OVER BLACK:

TITLE: CONFESSION

The loud RAPPING of footfalls can be heard ECHOING across a hard marble floor.

FADE IN:

CLOSE ON - A pair of black FORMAL SHOES as they CLIP, CLOP along a marble floor, past numerous rows of wooden benches.

The feet stop in front of the door of a confession box.

CUT TO:

CLOSE ON - The brass handle of the confession box door.

A hand rises up to grab hold of it.

The muscles of the hand spasm as they tightens around it.

CUT TO:

INT. CHURCH - MAIN HALL - DAY

A seventeen year old boy stands resolutely in front of the confession box door, his hand outstretched, gripping a hold of the door handle.

His name is JOHNNY SMITH.

Johnny turns, looking back nervously to the front of the church.

There kneeling at the front bench, his hands clasped together in mock prayer, is his best friend, SEAN CRILLY.

Sean is half turned, looking back over his shoulder at Johnny, as both teens share a nervous glance.

After a couple of beats Johnny breaks eye contact, turning towards the door.

Twisting the handle he enters the small, oak paneled room beyond.

INT. CHURCH - CONFESSION BOOTH - CONTINUOUS

Johnny steps into the confession box, half turning to pull the door closed behind himself.

He sits down on the seat, shifting about in an effort to get comfortable.

Reaching an arm up he grabs the sliding panel that leads into the Priest's section of the booth, hesitating a moment before thrusting it open.

A rather bored looking priest in his early fifties stirs,  looking through the gaps in the wooden lattice barrier.

He is the resident priest for the chapel, FATHER MULLIN.

JOHNNY SMITH
Bless me father for I have sinned.  I have been with a loose woman.

A spark of recognition blazes across Father Mullin's face as he looks into the neighboring booth.

FATHER MULLIN
Is that you Johnny Smith?

Johnny crumples up his mouth in honest shame.

JOHNNY SMITH
Yes Father, it is.

Father Mullin rises up in his chair, taking on a authoritative tone.

FATHER MULLIN
And who was this "woman" you were with?

JOHNNY SMITH
I can't be tellin' you Father.  I don't want to ruin her reputation.

FATHER MULLIN
Come on now Johnny, I'm sure to find out sooner or later, so you might as well tell me now.

Johnny continues to stare at Father Mullin in blank silence.

Father Mullin's eyes narrow in scrutiny.

FATHER MULLIN (CONT'D)
Was it Brenda O' Malley?

JOHNNY SMITH
(Pleadingly)
I can't say.

FATHER MULLIN
Patricia Kelly so?

JOHNNY SMITH
Father I can't tell you!

FATHER MULLIN
So was it Sheila O' Brien?

JOHNNY SMITH
(Guiltily)
I'm sorry father, but I just can't name her.

Father Mullin leans forward conspiratorially, seemingly excited by the scandal.

FATHER MULLIN
What about that Kathleen Morgan? Huh?

JOHNNY SMITH
My lips are sealed.

FATHER MULLIN
Not Fiona Grogan?

JOHNNY SMITH
Please Father, I’m not saying.

Father Mullin sighs in frustration.

FATHER MULLIN
Very well.
(Beat)
You're a steadfast lad Johnny, and I admire that in you.  But you've sinned, and for that you must atone Johnny.

Johnny swallows down a lump in his throat, a look of nervous eagerness entering his face as he looks at Father Mullin, slack jawed.

FATHER MULLIN (CONT'D)
(Commandingly)
Say a good act of contrition and ten “Hail Mary’s”, and you cannot attend mass for three months.

JOHNNY SMITH
What?

FATHER MULLIN
Now be off with you. God bless you my
child.

Looking disappointedly away from Father Mullin, Johnny rises sluggishly from his seat, stomping from the confession booth.

INT. CHURCH - FRONT BENCH - CONTINUOUS

Sean is deep in prayer, kneeling at the front bench with his eyes closed and his hands clasped tightly together.

Johnny walks in from the aisle, kneeling down beside Sean.

Sean peaks an eye across to look at Johnny, who raises his hands up in prayer.

Opening both his eyes, Sean turns to regard Johnny.

SEAN CRILLY
Well?

Johnny doesn't answer, staring ahead with a knowing look on his face, his hands clasped together and upraised on the rail in front of him.

SEAN CRILLY (CONT'D)
What did you get?

Opening his eyes and smiling, he turns to look at Sean.

JOHNNY SMITH
I got three month's vacation and five good leads.

CUT TO BLACK:
Handel's MESSIAH belts out as the CREDITS roll.

THE END