INT. HOTEL BAR — LATE
BARTENDER: Last call in 10 minutes. What’s your poison?
PATRON: Good choice of words. Help me out here.
The bartender takes a long look at his last customer. Expensive suit with air of sadness.
BARTENDER: Therapist, priest or silent friend. Pick one.
PATRON: Priest. Tonight it’s definitely a priest.
BARTENDER: Lay it on me.
PATRON: I will never be a burden to anyone.
BARTENDER: Doesn’t sound like a confession to me.
PATRON: I won’t disappoint. Let’s get my Hail Mary’s lined up.
BARTENDER: Three Hail Mary’s. Penance of choice?
PATRON: You decide.
BARTENDER: 252’s should make things right.
Lines up three shot glasses. Wild Turkey with Barcadi splashes.
PATRON: Birthday parties, swim meets, dance recitals, parent teacher conferences. I missed them all in the name of the Deal.
Man quickly swigs first shot.
PATRON: Running over my grandkid’s cat.
PATRON (continuous): While talking on the phone.
BARTENDER: In the name of the Deal?
PATRON: Amen, now you’re with me.
Man pulls family photo out of his wallet. Lays it on counter.
PATRON: Not telling anyone I’ve got terminal cancer. Just found out yesterday.
BARTENDER: Sorry to hear that (beat) but you got to tell them.
Man downs last shot.
PATRON: Yep, in the name of the Deal. I won’t be a burden.
Man pushes back stool to leave. Lays fifty dollar bill on counter.
BARTENDER: Hang, we can chat more while I clean up.
Man turns away, waves farewell as he heads toward the hotel elevator.