Murphy goes into the confessional box after years of being away from the Church.

He pulls aside the curtain, enters, and sits himself down.

There’s a fully equipped bar with crystal glasses, the best vestry wine, Guinness on tap, cigars, and liqueur chocolates nearby, and on the wall, a fine photographic display of various women who appear to have misplaced their garments.

He hears a priest come in. “Father, forgive, I think it’s been a while since I’ve been to confession, and to be sure, I must say that the confessional box is much better than it used to be.”

The priest replies, “Get out, you idiot. You’re on my side!”