“I cannot say.”
“Was it Teresa Mazzarelli?”
“I’ll never tell.”
“Was it Nina Capelli?”
“I’m sorry, but I cannot name her.”
“Was it Cathy Piriano?”
“My lips are sealed.”
“Was it Rosa DiAngelo, then?”
“Please, Father, I cannot tell you.”
The priest sighs in frustration
“You’re very tight lipped, and I admire that
But you’ve sinned and have to atone
You cannot be an altar boy now for 4 months
Now you go and behave yourself.”
Joey walks back to his pew, and his friend Franco slides over and whispers, “What’d you get?”
“Four months vacation and five good leads.”
