Vatican Ambassador Read Free Page A

ungrateful bastards! How could they work so hard with Marc to rebuild this place, only to turn it over to that asshole?
    “Hey Father, how are ya? Happy Saint Patty’s Day, padre!” A heavy set older man deposits another pint of beer in front of BC.
    Damn... who? Stanzione! That’s it...
    “Why Mr. Stanzione! Thank you! Happy Saint Patrick’s Day to you, too!” BC greets his beery benefactor.
    “How you likin’ the new quarters, Father?” Stanzione asks him.
    “Just fine, Mr. Stanzione. Your men do good work!” BC smiles.
    “Only the best for you, Father. Glad you’re happy! Nice mass today, too.”
    “Thank you, Mr. Stanzione,” BC says.
    “Call me Frank, Father,” Stanzione says to BC.
    “Then thank you, Frank. And thanks for the beer, too,” BC says, still smiling.
    “You’re more than welcome, Father! Governor,” Stanzione says, as Edwards returns to the table.
    “Hey Frank!” Edwards greets Stanzione with a handshake, “Happy Saint Patrick’s Day!”
    “Happy Saint Patrick’s Day, Governor!” Stanzione says.
    “Stanzione!” someone yells. More voices join in, “Hey Stanzione!” calling Stanzione back to the bar.
    “Gotta go! Gentlemen,” he says with a small bow. He turns and melts back into the crowd at the bar.
    “Good contractor, that Frank Stanzione,” Edwards says. “Does good work with those fakewood interiors.”
    “Yeah, he handled our interiors at the embassy... You, uh, changing the subject?” BC prods him.
    “Yeah, I’d rather not think about it for now, you know?” Edwards says, rolling his eyes. “If you don’t mind...”
    “I understand,” BC tells him, “I don’t mind. Today, we drink!” BC toasts with his new brew. “To a punchy politician and a plastered priest!”
    “I resemble that remark... I’ll drink to that!” Edwards tilts back his glass and downs a good gulp. BC
    tries to match him, does an adequate job, draining about half of his pint. Ahhh... cold, though… my teeth hurt!
    What’s this?
    Somehow, another round has appeared upon their table. Edwards lets out a laugh as he sees the two new pints that have miraculously appeared on the table.
    “Leprechauns?” Edwards asks, and giggles.
    Edwards? Giggling? He must be getting drunk!
    BC fakes an Irish accent, “Sure an’ begorra, it’s the wee folk. We call ‘em that ‘cause they bring us beer, and the beer makes us wee...”
    Edwards, laughing, does his own bad Irish accent, “I’ll drink ta that!” and drink they do. Many more pints appear… and disappear. BC and Edwards stay until the bartender tells the crowd they don’t have to go home, but they can’t stay at McGrady’s ‘cause they’re closing. They leave with the rest of the well-oiled crowd, each going off on their own drunken way.
    BC only knows he made it back to his quarters because he wakes up there in the morning. Ouch. Ouch ouch ouch. Hangovers suck... shit... what can I take? At least it’s not as bad as those other headaches... hangover’s almost nothing compared to those fuckers… ouch ouch okay, so hangovers suck, too, don’t want you to feel neglected… I’m worrying about neglecting a headache, I must be hung-over…
    BC gets up out of bed. His surroundings are blurry. He’s a little dizzy. The new place does look nice. Stanzione and his crew make fakewood look like real wood. The walls of his stateroom are covered in a nice dark grain, making his stateroom look like a room in a log cabin back on earth. Ah, the warmth of wood. It’s strange how it looks so organic while it hides our state-of-the-art defense system. It really is everything I was hoping for when I designed it. Makes me proud, in a way... I may have been bragging about that at some point last night… wonder if that was wise…
    Ouch ouch ouch… seems like a fuzzy bad dream… I wonder how many other good Catholics are hurting this morning after Saint Patrick’s? I bet I’m not the only one... and it’s probably not just