[SCENE: A Catholic church on Sunday, after the service. FATHER PETER has his back turned, leaning up against the altar, masturbating. Enter FRANK.]

FRANK: Excuse me, Father...

FATHER: [stops suddenly and turns around, beaming benevolently] Ah, Frank, what did you think of this week's sermon?

FRANK: Very enlightening, Father. It's high time people of decency and moral fortitute started to speak out against the evils of testicle-shaving. Do you have a few minutes to spare?

FATHER: [beaming more brightly still, placing a fatherly hand on Frank's shoulder] Of course, my son, of course. I look forward to these chats of ours all week. Few people take their faith as seriously as you.

FRANK: Father...All of my life, I've tried to be a good person. I've loved my neighbor and my god, and endured falseness and hypocrisy neither in word nor in deed. I became a teacher, and moved here to the City, because I wanted to make a difference in people's lives. I wanted to teach them right from wrong and truth from falsehood, fact from fiction and honourable from base. I want to show them that there is still good in the world: faith, hope and charity. Yet that same world seems to be set against me; nothing that I do turns out as it should. I want to stretch young minds, but I am forced to adhere to a syllabus fitted to the lowest common denominator, which will give my students nothing they do not already have. The Citizens have it in for me, though I wish them only well; why, just last week, my landlords s--

FATHER: [interrupting] Frank, have you been abusing yourself?

FRANK: Pardon, Father? What are you talking about?

FATHER: I'm talking about self-flagellation! Onanism, Frank, Onanism. Self-pleasuring of the most shameful sort.

FRANK: No, Father, I have not. With all due respect, I don't see how this relates to my issues.

FATHER: It is a sin and an abomination unto the Lord. God is watching you, Frank. In the shower. In your bed. In your dreams. He sees all. Every drop of seed you spill is another drop of acid in His eye!

FRANK: I know, Father, which is why I haven't--

FATHER: Not once?

FRANK: Not once.

FATHER: We live in dark times. The world is teetering under this plague of autoeroticism. Hardened sinners are unable to resist the lure of their own flesh, and their disease is spreading. Every stroke they take is a spear in Our Saviour's side. They teach it now in schools, polluting innocent young minds with their filth. It's like heroin, Frank, heroin; once they're hooked, they can't stop...

[Enter the BISHOP]

BISHOP: Tending to your flock, Father Peter?

FATHER: I was just cautioning Frank here against the creeping evil of masturbation.

BISHOP: It's what they call a 'gateway sin', you know. It looks and feels so harmless at first, but it is the Devil's tool to draw you away from the holy flock by your own engorged member and deliver it into the hands of Satan himself! [FATHER PETER thrusts his pelvis at Frank lewdly behind his back, pumping with his arms.] Soon, though, mere self-abuse is not enough. The hardened sinner can no longer get his kick from such harmless stuff. He develops a tolerance, and needs harder stuff to get his dark thrill. One day it's whacking the weasel, the next it's arson. Murder and theft are the least of it. Arson, my son!

FRANK: I had no idea the problem had grown so severe...

[FRANK turns to greet a fellow parishoner. The BISHOP and FATHER PETER stifle laughter and elbow each other in the ribs when his back is turned. They compose themselves when he turns back.]

FATHER: Are you sure you have not touched yourself?

BISHOP: Are you sure you have not been tempted? Be honest. God knows.

FRANK: Well...[blushes uncomfortably] There was a Bears game on the other night...

BISHOP: Aha!

FATHER: I knew it!

BISHOP: God knows, my son.

FATHER: You must relinquish these unclean habits of self-abuse, Frank. Only then can you find the happiness you seek. Is it any wonder that the world seems to be against you, when you habitually pollute your body and soul with these acts?

FRANK: I see, Father. Thank you. The fault is mine. I must seek to live a more worthy life...[exits, pensive]

VOICE: [offstage] Who's been ejaculating in the holy water again?

[FATHER PETER and the BISHOP chortle again, elbowing each other, before reaching for their groins exaggeratedly.]

[Lights down]

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©2000 Luke Gutzwiller. I really mean it.