Night I made drunken pal think I was God
It was early in the morning so the petrol station was closed down and empty, I amused myself by playing with the forecourt's Tannoy...
Mikey Morrissey, a friend of mine from the town, was on his way home after a night out and he was clearly the worse for wear. Staggering through the forecourt, between the petrol pumps, Mikey was stunned to hear a voice calling to him quietly through the dead of the night.
"Mikey ... Mikey ... Mikey Morrissey. Yes, Mikey, I'm speaking to you," I intoned in a deep voice. Mikey, clearly four sheets to the wind, stopped staggering and peered up into the darkened.
"This is God, Mikey, and I need to talk to you about your drinking and about your wicked ways. I want to hear your confession, Mikey."
An awestruck Mikey, thankfully, was too drunk to realise he was talking to a rugby player and not God, so he dutifully dropped to his knees and, clasping his hands together, rapidly cried out to his God, praying and apologising for his wicked ways.
Spreading his arms heavenwards, Mikey cried out: "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, what can I can do?"
"Mikey, you must give up your aul' sins, and you must give up the drink. Then, Mikey, you will be forgiven," said the voice.
Beseeching God to give him a second chance, Mikey crawled on his knees across the forecourt where, according to the watching Lamb Chop O'Dwyer, who was now weeping tears of laughter, he made his confession and, "prayed for forgiveness from pump No 4".