Marcus and Father Seamus loiter in the hall, lost in their own thoughts, waiting for Michele to come out. Finally, Marcus says, "Boy do I feel silly."
"You?" snorts Father Seamus. "I was dancin' around like a fecking flamenco dancer! Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, I'll never live this one down."
"You aren't going to tell anybody, are you?" asks Marcus.
"Have to confess it to some blabbermouth back in St. Paul. Don't believe everything you hear about the confidentiality of the confessional Marcus. It's the best part of being a priest. People come and tell you funny stories, and it's hard not to pass 'em around."
"Oh dear! Will I have to confess it, too?"
"You don't need to pretend any more, Marcus. I know you won't become a Catholic. That's okay."
"I'm sorry that I got you caught up in this, Father."
"I have nobody to blame but myself. I was so eager to take on Beelzebub again, one last time, that I forgot to scrutinize the case. It was a good lesson for the old priest."
Michele emerges from the restroom looking small on her heel-less shoes. Her dress is stained and it is still damp, as is her hair. She walks over to the two men unsteadily. "I've had an epiphany," she says. "If two, er, Godly men like you could be so wrong and think that I—Michele Bachmann—was possessed by Satan, well maybe I've been wrong about some things, too."
"Like what?" asks Marcus.
"Like thinking Jim Ramstad was possessed. And maybe thinking that the Pope is the antichrist. And I'm no longer sure that the sinfulness of gays is as black and white as I thought."
"Maybe some good has come out of this whole business, after all," says Father Seamus.
"Amen to that!" adds Marcus.
"If I get back to the airport, I can probably catch the first flight back to St. Paul." Father Seamus looks at his watch.
"I'll go with the two of you," says Michele.
They get Father Seamus' bag from the office—Michele musing how she is going to explain this all to the staff when it returns in a few hours—and make their way downstairs. The guard spots them, jumps to his feet, and draws his revolver. "Are you okay, Congresswoman Bachmann?"
"Oh, yes. I'm fine. You may put that away. I just plugged a toilet upstairs. Since I did it, I thought it was only fair that I fixed it!"
"Next time, please call down here and I'll get the maintenance staff. You look terrible."
The trio makes it out to the car; it is still raining so they all get wet, except Michele, who just gets wetter. They climb into the car and drive toward the airport. On the way, they chat amiably, telling Catholic and Lutheran jokes, and Father Seamus confides in them that he is a homosexual—not practicing, of course.
When the car pulls up to the curb at the airport, Father Seamus gets out, says goodbye, and waves to Michele and Marcus as they drive off.
When they're gone, the priest turns toward the entrance and says, "Fecking Prods!"
Meanwhile, back in the car, Marcus asks Michele, "Did you really mean that stuff about an epiphany?"
Michele looks at him and is pensive for a moment. Then a smile creeps across her face, matched by one on Marcus' face. "NAH!" they exclaim in unison.
A little farther down the road, Michele says, "Marcus, I have to admit that getting tied up in that strait jacket kinda turned me on. Where did you get it?"
"Elvira's House of Pain."
"Oooh, you think we could stop there on the way back to the office?"
Tags: Michele Bachmann, exorcism