January 12, 2010
I am decidedly not myself; I am Sister Mary Patrick, the ebullient singing nun played by Kathy Najimy in "Sister Act." But I'm not just a singing nun. It seems I have some real power, as I am also a judge; a nun and a judge, and my courtroom is the street.
Four dew rag wearing thugs appear in the street in front of me. They are accompanied by Whoopi Goldberg, standing beside a white van, which apparently they have stolen.
"Well, well, well, what have we got here?" I ask.
"Sister, may I say something?" of the the thugs inquires.
"No, you may not." I know the van is stolen, but I pretend to think it is a donation.
"The Children will be so grateful for this gift. Now we can take them on trips. "
"The Children?" another thug asks incredulously.
"Yes, the children," I snap, "they're very grateful."
Whoopi and the thugs shake their heads in disbelief, but they submit to my will and relinquish the vehicle.
I am once again myself, but Whoopi is still with me. She joins my family in the tiny kitchen of my old 5th floor walk up apartment. We are just sitting down for Thanksgiving dinner as the afternoon sun streams through the living room window and drenches the crowded dining area.
Whoopi and I, joined by my middle brother, excuse ourselves from the table and suddenly find ourselves in the back seat of a black limousine.
The car winds its way through the snow covered hills of a local cemetery.
We're in search of my mother's tombstone, and after a few minutes we spot it at the bottom of a hill, but are unable to stop due of the pickup truck full of mafia types that is now chasing us. It is clearly unsafe to stop, and so we exit the grounds of the cemetery and head onto the highway as the sun starts to fade.
