Dear God (1996)

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Dear God (1996)

Post by bunniefuu »

I've got a foggy, smoggy morning.

no riots, no mudslides.

On the other hand, it's still early.

Steve Tatum here.

Christmas Parade tonight.

just before Thanksgiving

Of course...

Found your hat.

- Is Daddy flying that airplane?- No, sweetie. Sorry.

Come along.Up the stairs, up you go.

I miss my friends in New Jersey.

I know, but you'll make new friends.

Fasten your seat belt.

It's a whole new world out here.

We have a new place at the beach,a new school for you.

Are you gonna makenew friends, too, Mom?

Of course. There are plentyof nice, normal people here.

Morning, Tom. Hear the resultsof New York's Aqueduct today?

Otis, my man, I already lost.

Can you get this off my car?It scratches easy.

Who you gonna bet on at Del Mar?

Nobody, I'm broke. I'm going to work.

departs on track four.

All aboard.

Relax, Julie.

I've lost my purse!

Your purse is on your shoulder.I swear...

No-Ioading zone, pal. Keep it moving.

I'll check on Carmel for you.

Ladies. I hopped into the cab afteryou and found this on the floor.

The driver said he'd mail it to you.

For heaven's sakes!We do not know the cab driver.

We certainly do not.We are from Memphis.

We do not socialisewith foreign drivers.

That's the thing. He seemed verysuspicious. He said it was yours.

You ran all this wayto return that little bitty bracelet?

Ma'am, even an amateur gemologistlike myself

knows the black sapphireis extremely valuable.

- But that's not our...- What she means is,

it's a gift for a friend,Sally-Lou, back home.

- Thank you.- Glad I could help.

He's so sweet.

Well, I guess I should give youa reward.

- God bless you.- God bless you. OK.

You're not old enough

for your own PIN number.

But Laura saysI can get one in your name.

Bravo, bravo.

There was a fire at San Diego YouthCentre. I had to pull two kids out.

They're fine, but nowI can't push the damn buttons.

- Help him, Papa.- Would you?

- You'd trust me with your number?- A fellow Greek?

What's the number?

Seven-eleven-four.

Don't flirt. She's a virgin.

Congratulations.

Damn it!

Now how do I catch a cabto the burns centre?

- How far is the hospital?- Beverly Hills. Is that far?

- We can give him a ride.- No, we don't have time.

You gotta have the cab fare.I insist. Yeah.

"Efharisto." It's, like, 30 miles.

Sure.

- He's kinda cute.- Never mind.

- A trip, Madame Zema?- Would you like to know where?

I need a little more money...

Smile, Mrs Alcot,your favourite customer's here.

OK, 20, 40, 50,

51, 52,

pog-slammer,

57, 58, bus ticket to Fresno...

I don't want no bus ticketto Fresno, man.

...59, 60, 65. That's it, for now.I'm a little short.

You gotta grow, Tommy.As of today, you're short a grand.

I could sell my car.

It ain't worth that gumball machine.

It's over. Junior's cranky,dudes are moving in on his turf.

Tommy, you gotta quitplaying the ponies.

Gloria. Come here.

- What?- Those guys are bottom feeders.

They got small-timewritten on their pants.

The guy in black, Webster?He's a loan shark.

- What's the other called?- Tom.

You do what you gotta do. Tonight,you meet us in the back of Zema's.

You don't have 1,000 bucks,get out of town.

Webster, where am I going to go?

You got a bus ticket to Fresno.

Help me out here.I'm a little stressed.

We've been tight a lot of years,but I can't keep covering for you.

Forget it, Webster.I got the skills to pay the bills.

That's my man talking, yeah.At Madame Zema's.

Tonight.

Tony Danza!

I'm doing last-minute fundraising.I'm almost there.

Junior's coming. I can hear him.He wants to see you now.

- "We're waiting for you at Zema's."- I'm not well yet.

Better to show up lightthan not at all. Get the lead out.

Don't be a kid-hater.Santa's kids. Thank you.

- Who are Santa's kids?- Santa's kids are everywhere!

Mr Baywatch!

And the mistress of the dark, Elvira.

There's an experimental treatmentthat Medicare will cover,

but I have no way of knowing...

Sister. Give me your address.I swear, I'll send you a cheque.

- No.- Please.

No. When little Junior'sback on his feet,

I hope you'll do a loving actof kindness for someone in need.

A loving act of kindness?

Sister Charlotte, what are you doing?

Happy Days' Erin Moran

and Princess Elinor Donahue...

A round trip to New York.They were for our honeymoon.

She got this nasal disease.I don't even know what you call it.

They're worth, like, $1,200 each.

But we don't have 1,200!

I'd take less. Like, two?

20, 30...

- Not now, I'm doing a transaction.- How would you like to spread 'em?

LAPD. Merry Christmas, pal.

Of all the crappy deals...

Joanie!

Shouldn't you be arrestinga drug dealer or a movie star?

waiting for. Let's hear it, folks!

Case number 96-M 1-31-25.

You're next!

Mr Greek burn victim? Let's go.

The scars have almost healed.So, how's your daughter?

She's... Never mind! Do you swearto tell the truth, the whole truth

and nothing but the truth? If you getlet off, I'll splatter your nose.

So help me God?

Yeah, sure.

Would you like useof the public defender?

I can handle this without a lawyer.I have a lot of courtroom experience.

- As a matter of fact...- Not with me. So settle down.

Don't make me get the hot brick.Proceed.

Your Honour, the DA's officewishes to file one charge of fraud,

but we believe this fraudmay be just one of many.

It's hardly worth tying upthis overburdened court system,

a system which though flawed, yes,it has flaws, is the best damn system

in the United States of Americaand maybe the world!

You can put an exclamation pointby that, Miss. Hallelujah!

So, I'd like to be released nowon my own recognisance, thank you.

Stop, turn, stay.

Now, Mr Turner,I don't see anything here

about past or present employmenton your sheet.

I don't want to bragabout my stupid accomplishments.

"I did this, I did that." It's...

Your Honour, enough is enough.If he won't accept a plea...

- I suggest all charges be dropped.- Substantial jail time...!

One moment, Bob.Did you say, "Drop the charges"?

I think that was me, yeah.

"Drop the charges."

Approach the bench. Please.

Do you get your pantscustom tailored?

You probably have to,with a set of balls that big.

Drop the charges?What a set they must be!

Huge and shiny, I'll wager.I've always wanted balls like that.

Where did you get yours?We'll talk more later.

For now, get back to that spot!

Now, you can demand a trial

or in lieu of a plea, you can acceptthe recommendation of this court.

What this court recommendsis that you, the defendant,

Tom Turner, AKA, Tom the Preacher,

Tom the Con and Tom the Worm,

you, sir, have one weekto find a job.

A real job. Nine to five,five days a week, for a year.

Nine to five?That seems a bit excessive.

If this record showedyou were selling dr*gs as well...

- His punishment is to get a job?- In my opinion, we should cane him!

Do you have any idea how hard honest,working people break their backs

to earn the dollars out of whichyou so blithely con them?

I implore you, take this opportunityto use the innocent apple-pie face

and the fine mindGod has obviously given you,

for something better,for something decent,

for all the peoplewhose trust you've crushed.

By the way, if you choosenot to work, you will go to jail.

So, which will it be?

OK, so, it's jail or...What was the other one?

I hate the Post Officeduring the holidays. It's a zoo!

I've been here an hourto buy three stamps!

- I'm looking for Guy Turner.- Behind the yellow line. Got to go.

I just have a question. I've walkedaround here for 30 minutes...

You have to stand behind the line!

No, I'm not a yellow-liner.I'm here...

I cannot help you till you standbehind the yellow line!

- Next.- I've dealt with your type before!

- I will speak to your supervisor!- I almost had to help a customer!

I'm in Sorting. This is Monica. Bye.

- Hello, Monica.- Hi.

I'm having an extraordinarilycrazy day. I need to find...

Behind the yellow line, please.

You're kidding, right?

- Listen to me!- God! Postal police!

No. We don't need... Cousin Guy.

How much postage for this bike?

Cousin Guy, I really appreciateyou getting me this job.

The only reason I'm doing thisis cos of your mom, you know.

Before she went away,

I promised her I'd look after you.So I got you in.

But if you screw up,I don't know you. You got me?

- I got you.- Meet your boss, Vladek Vidov.

Your cousin is very great man.

This is Barney machine.

Main conveyor beltfor sorting all mail.

Salute to modern technology.

You know why they call it Barney?

- Cos it's purple?- You been here before?

- No.- Yes, purple, like dinosaur,

but bigger than dinosaur.

Ramon! No, no, please!

Safety first. No, no. Don't.

Don't do this. Please.

Sit. Sit. "Descanso." Rest.

His first day as casual.The guys told him that "fragile"

is postal for "throw hardagainst wall and bounce into bin".

Mary, please, explain to Ramonwhat means fragile.

OK. Who's that?

Tom. Mary and Wendy,two of our best sorters.

- Right, we met upstairs.- They read difficult handwriting.

- What did you mean by casual?- A temp. Like you.

Which is whyyou did not have to take exam,

which is a ball-buster,pardon the expression.

We hire you for Christmasthen let you go.

I'm sure the posh environment herehas stimulated many a casual to ask,

"What if I wanted to stay longer?Maybe a year?"

A year? We'll see.

This is your new home.

- The DLO.- No way.

Yeah.

Everyone, this is Tom.

He's playing with channel changer,not g*n.

That's Claudio Gomez,they call him Handsome.

And that's Dooly.Don't call him anything.

Idris.

Rebecca.

Lucille.

So, please, let's give him warmDead Letter Office welcome. Come.

You know, I actually might...

Might be better off...

Vladek?

Coffee break!New guy gotta watch the office.

- It's tradition.- But I don't know how...

I'm on my break, sugar.

Come. This is your desk.

Idris, right?I'm not really up on religion.

Is this purgatory or did I dieand go straight to hell?

Getting warm. This is the DLO,the Dead Letter Office.

All these letters are hopeless, lost,undeliverable, unreturnable.

We gather the dead, put themin boxes, put the boxes in bins.

- Are you just on for the holidays?- I'm two months from my 20th year.

Then I'm outta here, gone.

- 20 years?- Yep.

I couldn't raise my familyas a musician.

Couldn't raise myself as a musician.

OK.

One year.

Piece of cake.

Bin A, if it's returnable,

which it never is, cos if WhisperingWendy can't decipher the writing...

No one can. Bin B. Blurred. Smudged.

Torn or, excuse me,just too cruddy.

Bin D, wrong address.

No return, wrong return. People whodon't know where they live. Pathetic.

Bin E. No state.

No clue, no hope for you.

Ready to try, new guy?

Yeah, sure. No problem.

Let's see... Bin D. Wrong address.

Negatory. Not just wrong, but Bin B.

Smudged and torn.

- God!- Sugar, it's not that hard.

No. This is addressed to a Mr God.

Easy. He gets a lot. We putall the "Dear God" mail over here.

In the loony bin.

Bin C.

Subdivided into loony bin boxes.We got one for Superman, Elvis,

the Tooth Fairy,the Easter Bunny and God.

And any kind of Martian.

All yours, new guy!

Now don't forget, Santa Claushas his own bin over here.

Don't nod at me on your first day.

I gotta get to know you.

OK...

Just cos you live across the streetdoesn't mean you can come and ogle.

- What's the new manager's name?- Gloria McKinney.

She created great new recipesfor me.

Don't even think about it. You're notimposing yourself on that girl.

One Banana Karenina coming up.

Morning, all.Theo, one Colombian to go.

- Who's that?- Joey's mine and Josh is his friend.

Joey, nice-Iooking... turkey,Santa Claus-thing you got there.

- He hates Christmas in California.- Why's that?

Well, Jersey has snow and everything.

OK, time to go. It's late. Joey, I'llwalk you to school. Get your coat.

Heard you got busted.

What? No.That was this acting thing I did.

A crime re-enactment for TV.A cable syndication thing.

I'm just a little curious.Does anybody buy your BS?

Lately? No. But I did geta job with the US Post Office.

Honest, I've been there a week.Even bought new shoes. Look.

- Nice.- Aren't those great?

I heard it wasthe Post Office or jail.

- How does everybody know my life?- Well, I knew about it.

- You know I work at the Post Office?- Yeah. We heard.

All our friends in Indianaknow you work here.

Junior is afraidyou won't make enough to pay him.

Tell him to take a Prozac.He can have my first paycheque.

Well, buddy,we know where to find you.

- "Kirkland asleep?"- "Out like a light."

I'm a much better actorthan those guys.

This guy can't act.

You ever readthese Dear God letters?

No. Me and God have an agreement.

I leave His mail,He leaves my "Soap Opera Digest."

- Are you a postal cop?- No.

"Dear God, we've gone onrent strike at the Normandy Arms

but we still don't have running wateror hallway lights."

"Before the winter rains come,

I'd like to cover the broken windowin my boy's room with plastic

and somehow get hot water.Thank you, Lord, for your help."

"Yours sincerely, Marguerite. 2F."

The eagle has landed!

- What've you got there?- Nothing.

What the hell's going on here?Is this a fire drill?

Excuse me. Hi. You mentionedthe eagle. Is that important?

It is to me. After I crashedand burned as a lawyer,

I had to findsomething less stressful.

What we workaholics, yes, my nameis Rebecca and I am a workaholic,

call a recovery job. I havemy serenity and I'm still able...

I'm still able to do pro bono work.

Excuse me. But what does it mean,"The eagle has landed"?

That means it's pay day.

Whispering Wendy Smith.

Wendy Smith? No? We lost cheque.

You know, Whispering Wendy.

Hold on. Can't locate Smith? OK.

Dooly. Herman Dooly. Thank you.

Smith? OK, good.

What is with that guy?

Dooly's our other burnout.

Behind this one?

Dooly was a carrier. Memorisedthe entire Los Angeles phone book.

Then one day, he snapped. Bit a dog.

Ramon. Can I get tothe Dead Parcel Room this way?

- Dead Parcel?- Dead Parcel. Where's Vladek?

Vladek is smoking!

Vladek?

Tom. Did you cash your cheque?

Yeah, I actually thoughtthis would be a little more.

Gross. People thinkwe swim in sea of gross

but we are caught in net of net.

Taxes. That's whateverybody complains about.

- What?- That's what every... Never mind.

Come. I take you toDead Parcel Room. Getting off.

Dead bracelets, dead Rolex...

And why is all this here?

All of this gets auctioned offbut we cannot go. Why? Postal rules.

After all, if employeescould bid on lost parcels,

there would be dramatic increasein undeliverable packages. You agree?

That is why Big Brotheris always watching.

They deliver us from temptation.

- There's people scoping us out?- Sometimes.

Why sometimes?Am I asking too much?

No. This is Mr Addison's shift.

He's old, he naps.

- It's a problem.- It's not easy for old people.

You're good boy, Tom. Slow but good.

I want you to memorise and learnall inventory for tracing purposes.

Terrific! I was gonna ask, should Istart in the back here or just...

Vladek?

Thank you, God.

That's not too gaudy.

- Tom?- Guys, where you been?

What are you doing?

I was just runninga trace on something.

Well, hurry. Idris has to lock up.Tracing? What tracing?

I found this package in there.

A bunch of junk, really.

Some of it's kind of nice.It's going to Normandy.

Normandy Arms. 2... 2F.

I thought if could find the right...

I learned all this here, you know.Just find... There it is.

Nine-zero-zero-six.

"Tom, how did you learn all that?"I looked it up earlier.

Probably one of those stupid thingskids are doing these days.

What are they called? Care packages.I'll send it out later.

Ramon is making his rounds now.

Perfect. That guy's like clockwork.

- Morning pick-ups.- That's very good, Tom.

Bring the dead back to life,like postal resurrection.

- Yes!- It's not that funny.

- No. Sucking up to the boss.- That's funny.

Come, we take coffee break.I buy you "varushka."

Is Russian pastry, very delicious.

- Make your teeth sticky.- I'll buy, Vladek.

Let me get my cash.I'll see you down there.

Alright. Yes. I see youin eating place. Cafeteria.

Ramon?

What?

- You picked up mail from the DLO?- Yeah,

I fed it to Barney just a second ago.Right over there.

Get away! Get out of here.

Get off!

Wait!

Marvellous catch! Listen.

Let's say somebody accidentally mailsa letter but it's in the building...

Once it's mailed, it's gone.Overnight!

OK!

Hold the truck, please.No! Mail mistake.

And now, our last Normandy Armsrent striker, Marguerite.

My name is Marguerite Duvalier.I live in 2F.

There are many, many problems here.

The worst thing is the security door.

There is no lock. It just swingsopen and closed, open and closed.

Please, come upand sign the petition.

Your signature counts.

Normandy Arms people unite.

It's our money now,not yours, copper.

So get lost, Five-0!

Do I know you?

- Mother!- No.

- Mother!- Yes, my baby, what is it?

Hi. We may havea slight postal problem.

A small investigationmay be necessary.

No, don't worry, honey.We don't have to give back the money.

It was delivered already?I mean, money?

My mama needs the money,now get lost!

- It's official business, kid.- Quiet.

God is looking out for us.

Isn't he?

Right?

Yes. I mean, you know, I thinkactually I got the wrong building.

- Correct!- Correct. OK.

Cute. He's very cute. Adorable.

Very talkative. Thank you. Your sonought to run the rent strike meeting.

Kid buried me. Stupid hat buried me.Now Junior's gonna bury me.

- Marguerite.- What is it, Rebecca?

- You know that guy?- Who, him?

After Marguerite told me about you,

some God letters myself.

with your mission of mercy.

What's the best way for meto put this?

You are seriously deranged. I was notthere on a mission of mercy.

I wasn't delivering money.

I was trying to get it backand screw over those poor people.

I saw how happy you werewhen that little boy looked at you.

You seriously don't understand.

I didn't want the money to go tothat obnoxious, pushy little kid.

It was supposed to go tomy obnoxious, pushy loan shark.

Sure. You mailed itby accident. That's right.

Complete coincidence that I'madvising tenants on a rent strike

and you just happen to be deliveringMarguerite her money.

There are no accidents.

You did something good and selfless.

Together,we can make that happen again.

I wanna show you something.

It's a letter.

- It's in Spanish so I'll translate.- Is this long?

"Dear God, my little girlwill be nine next week."

"Doctors sayit may be her last birthday."

"All she wants for her birthdayis to ride a horse."

"I live in East LA.We don't have many horses here."

"Angela doesn't ask for muchand she is very brave."

"Please give her this wish. Here isher drawing. Thank you, Juanita."

She doesn't draw very well.

- Three eyes.- That's a nose.

- Isn't she sad?- No.

OK, she's sad.What do you want me to do about it?

Some poor soulasks God for a hand-out,

so I'm meant to produce a miracle?No, that's not in my job description.

OK. So, where do we start?

You wanna do this kid a favour?

I say we write her a letter backfrom God and say,

"Life sucks and it's probably notgoing to get any better."

Maybe I misjudged you.

That's exactly what you've done.

No offence, Rebecca, but I gotmy own sad, serious problems.

No, that's fine.I'll take care of her myself.

Who said I needed your help anyway?

Dooly! Did you ever deliver East LA?

Course I did. Till that toaddemoted me down to this pit.

Said I had an attitude problem.What's that supposed to mean?

Let it go. Do you remember anyschools with the zip code 90022?

I remember more schools than thatnumb-nuts that took over my route.

I'll give you schools. Public.First Street Elementary,

Fourth Street Elementary,Hollenback Junior.

OK, Dooly, we'll get that on paperand I can find her myself.

Look, the sign says "Ride the pony".It does not say "Pose with the pony"!

It's a figure of speech!It's just a sign!

Look, Mr Eduardo is very tired.He's resting. He's very famous.

He was in "Treasure of Sierra Madre."He worked with Humphrey Bogart.

You have to let her ride it!I paid you!

Look how happy she is sitting.Let her sit! This isn't a dude ranch!

Que burro!She doesn't want to ride that.

It's a donkey, not a horse.

I know. It's an awful, awful donkey!

- I got a watch looking for a wrist.- I got seven watches. Look!

Your wrist needs a security alarm.

You can't take my moneyand not give me anything.

I'm giving you a passportto the wondrous world

of Ziggy's Petting Zoo.Now go pet Goosey Gander!

Alright, sweetheart,let's pet the goose.

Mister, your duck is dead.

- Dead? Gimme my money back.- She can still pet it.

- You don't understand.- Excuse me. Can I have your name?

- I beg your pardon?- Your name, please.

My name is Zigmond Decker.

As I thought. I'm Inspector Anderson,from the US Petting Zoo Bureau.

- We have a Bureau?- Yes, we do.

The rumour about the duck?It's alive.

Yeah? Look at that, pal. We've beeninvestigating you, sleazebag.

- You were hustling this lady.- Thank God you came, Officer!

- Please! Step away.- Step over here. Hustling?

Does this look like hustling?

Here's your money.Is that hustling? Happy?

Listen, Zeitgeist, next time, I bustyou and your pets. Dead or alive.

I know the badge is fake but I'll doanything to get rid of her mouth.

- Fair enough.- Kid, wanna pet a chicken?

- The duck moved! It's alive!- Come on.

- Olvera Street for horses?- She lives down the block.

I was going to take themto Griffith Park.

Forget Griffith Park.

I'll take you to a place with horses.

It's nice out here, right?

Trees, grass, stables.

I paid for most of it.

Good girl. Yeah.

I was right about you!

No, you weren't.

Good boy.

Yeah.

Well, I gotta gomeet some associates.

Mr Tom.

I can't thank you enough.You are a very nice man.

- Hello, Tom!- Junior! This is all I got.

You won't believe what happenedto my paycheque. Amazing.

- This won't buy my dinner!- That's for sure.

You're soft. If you're gonna welchon people, you should stay in shape.

Haven't seen you at the gym lately.

- Show time!- Tommy.

OK, here comes Mommy. There she is.

She's gonna take careof her little baby.

- Is that a racehorse?- No, honey.

That mother is an exercise horse.

- He owes me money!- He'll have it by Saturday.

I know him. He's trustworthy.He's from Indiana, bro.

We are so luckyto have seen that, aren't we?

Let's go find Tom. You got to ridea horse. We made that happen for you.

Didn't we? There you are!How'd the meeting go?

We wrestled witha few really bad ideas.

You missed the whole thing.She got to ride all around the track,

we saw the cutest baby horse,and the trainer gave her a souvenir.

OK, that's where Tom took usafter the petting zoo.

- What's a petting zoo?- My apartment, every night.

That's the happy little girl.That's Angela.

That's the little baby that was bornwhen we were there.

It's amazing how nature works.

Yeah, many animals stand upminutes after they're born.

- I don't think he's gonna make it.- It's a little girl.

I've done that before!

It's not easy getting off the ground.

But the momma's helping. It's a loteasier when you have a family.

- Happy Thanksgiving.- Happy Thanksgiving.

There he is. Tom.

Tom, we were talking, and we thought

that maybe there were more thingswe could do with the God letters.

- Why?- Cos I been here 12 years,

and all I ever thought aboutis lunch and clockin' out.

- So we want to help, Tom.- I really don't think so.

See, the haves help the have-nots,

and I hate to disappoint you,but we're the have-nots.

So what? There area lot of reasons to do things.

And the best one is do it for God.He could use a little help.

Postal workerscould use a better image!

Yeah. Everybody thinks I'll lose itand take 'em out with an AK47. Crazy!

They do it for God,we do it for the postal worker.

What do you say, Tom? Are you in?

Out.

- Did you really bite a dog?- Just in the knee.

finishing up work now,

who will have punched out early,

and a weekend of reflection

to be thankful for.

You know I'm nuts?

I'm alright till I startthinking about these people.

Depending on me for their cheques,

hoping I don't deliver thema bill from the IRS,

or a kiss-off from a girlfriend,or a jury-duty notice.

Dooly, you're not nuts.

You know why?I don't care, that's why.

I used to care. I start to carea little, though, and I can't stop.

It's like with those addresses.

Or with catalogues. You ever triedto deliver all them catalogues

in them tiny mail slots they gotin them apartment mail boxes?

You gotta fold 'em,put 'em in there nice for people.

For some people,that's the only mail they ever get.

Nobody ever said thank you, though.

Boy, you bite one dogand they don't let you up.

"Here comes Dooly. Woof, woof."

You just can't care, that's all.

I care about myself.Everything else is just an act.

You come to the right place.

You know something?

Sometimes, I go for monthsand I don't look in a mirror,

and then I glance in oneand I don't even recognise myself.

When I had my route, I'd used tolook in this mirror every morning,

straighten my uniform,make sure I was sharp.

I knew everybody on my route.

I loved that route.

Don't get me wrong.

This don't meanwe're like friends or nothin'.

No, of course not.

Yeah, well.

I'm gonna punch out.

They said you wouldn't use theseeing-eye dog, or even meet him.

Sorry I haven't been more often.

It's not the first time this year,is it?

It's just I've been busy.I'm doing some consulting.

Freelance. I havemore work than I can handle.

Had to bring in a staff of 37for the holidays. You believe that?

- Would you cut the shit, Tom?- Can't get anything by you, can I?

Never stops you from trying.

- Ma...- Like father, like son.

I want you to be proud of me. I do.

It's just, what are the oddson that happening?

Still gambling?Still playing the horses?

You know, I do actuallyhave a job at the Post Office.

Cousin Guy set it up.

- I had a dream you were coming.- Please, Mom, no dreams.

You were with this woman.

She was not from the Midwestbut she was nice. She could cook.

There was a kid, too. Who's that?

I have no idea, Ma.

Gerard.

This is my no-good son.Gettin' married.

Yeah, we've met. Congratulations.

Gonna take me to meet his wifeat Christmas, right, Tom?

Yeah, Mom, that's right. I promise.

Ma, you haven't seen me in a while.

Check me out.Touch my face, the way you used to.

- Try it. I love when you do that.- No.

Come on, lighten up,it's the holidays.

Alright. Bend over here.

Yeah, you've changed... Tom!What have you done to yourself?

It's Gerard, Ma.

It was your son's idea.

- It was his idea.- Come here, you.

- It was his.- You got me, didn't you?

I gotcha.

Mom wouldn't let me wait any longer. "

in Santa Monica,

like you always do. Love, Joey. "

"Gloria, why are you here?"

"Me? I'm in the miniature golftournament."

God, that sounds bad.

"I saw you from the freeway."No wonder I'm single.

- Hi.- Tom!

- Yeah. Happy Thanksgiving.- Happy Thanksgiving.

I went by the store

and I just saw Joey's noteto his dad.

I didn't know he was back in town.

Just... I'm kind of in the moodto see a family playing together.

God, does that sound stupid?

Well, look, Joey's dad,

my ex, isn't coming.

Then why did...?

He showed up Thanksgivinga couple of years ago

and took us to play golf and so,

now Joey thinks every yearhe's gonna show up. But he isn't.

Well, do you mind if I join you?

I'll keep score.

Why don't you ask Joey?

- Hello.- Are you a stranger?

I'm that forgettable?You remember me!

- Tom?- Yes. Shall we make it a threesome?

You know how to play?

I used to. Kind of.I took it up on the weekends

when I got the urgeto wear ridiculous clothing.

To tell the truth, I like baseballand basketball better.

But with baseball and basketball,if you gamble, you get big trouble.

So, that's why they invented golf.

Like most miniature golf courses onThanksgiving, it's virtually empty.

OK. I'll hold your cotton candy.

- Definitely off his game today.- He's nervous. Or something.

I think it's too much cotton candy.

There it is! Good job!

Now?

OK. Ready?

OK. Do your thing.

I don't know whyhe's playing so badly tonight.

- Get in your proper stance.- Mom, I'm OK.

- I know.- Mom, I'm gonna do great this hole.

Mom, I am. I'm going to do so good,I bet you 50 cents I make it.

- Joe, we don't gamble.- Come on, Mom!

OK. 50 cents. And that's it.

Get in there! Get in there!

- I did it!- That is improvement.

Yes!

Great shot.

Probably just kid's luck.Wanna bet a dollar next hole?

Go get your ball, Joey.

You taught my kid to hustle.

Hustle! Miniature golf.

Miniature golf.What's next, tether ball?

I don't get it.Why else would you play the game?

For fun! You know, no salary,no bets, no angles.

You just play for the pure joyof playing the game.

- You mean like the Olympics?- Yes. Didn't you ever do that?

Not that I remember.

Olympic people end up sellingtheir medals to pawn shops.

You are something else. Alwaysworking something. Like tonight.

- What about tonight?- You saw Joey's note to his dad.

You decided to come play the hero.Wasn't that your angle?

- There's no angle.- Come on.

There was no angle.

It's just not the easiest thingto be alone on Thanksgiving.

I'm not alone. I have my son, OK?

I wasn't talking about you.

Thanks for joining us tonight.

Why don't you come down the shopand have a latte? On me.

Thanks again and happy Thanksgiving.

So we're gonna try again, Tom.

- No.- Nine for God.

I am not in chargeof the loony bin, alright? I'm not!

"I'm not." He's not in chargeof the loony bin!

OK, fine.Just so I'm absolutely clear,

this is about everybodywanting to be a hero, right?

Better than sorting.

When I get my audition, I'm gone.Till then...

The have-nots have got to do it.

The haves haven't helped anybodybut themselves since the '70s!

And you all realisewe can get in trouble for this.

How many laws does this violate,Rebecca?

- A lot.- Hear that? A lot. Correct.

- Tom...- What?

- More volunteers for God's work.- You've got to be kidding me!

Alright, we do one.But we've got to keep this quiet.

It would be really badif I lost my job.

- Who's this?- She's Jane. She's hearing impaired.

Tom!

Hi. OK.

Mary, can you distract today's spy?

Distract?I am good distraction! OK.

Has anyone ever actually metthe spies?

Hope we never do.

Idris, you pray the most.You pick one.

No. I'm one month awayfrom the Promised Land,

and I'm taking no chances,thank you.

Let me do it, Captain.

My mother was a bingo callerat church. It's in my genes.

Our first miracle!

Let Lucille read it.She is the closest to God.

Lucille?

Out loud.

"Dear God, living alonethis past year has been hell

and that's probably where I'll end upif you don't forgive me

for what I'm about to do."

"I know it's a sin to takeyour own life." Yes, it is.

"But honest, God, I feel my lifeis meaningless to everyone."

"So on Sunday, I shall goto your place of worship

and then a final plunge at noon."

Signed...

Jammy? Janey? Jean?

Let me see it. Let me see.Look how shaky the handwriting is.

It could be Jimmy, Jenny...

- Juanita.- Jose.

- Hymie.- Hymie?

So, we know it's eithera man or a woman.

That's good. At leastwe know it's not a giraffe.

This one's too hard. Get an easy one.

Great.

The deaf girl wants quiet.

She's right. She said you tell uswhat to do, Tom,

- since you did it before.- No, I didn't do it.

Here, Tom.

I can't even... Wendy, can you...?

Can you decipher this?

It's a man. Jemi. He's older.

I think she said older man.Check the postmark.

Yep. 90401.That's Santa Monica district.

There's a cemetery there.There should be a place of worship.

- Good. We show this to the clergy...- Could be a mosque, synagogue.

- Right. Mosque, synagogue.- Write it down. Write it down!

You got your Baptist, Our Ladyof Grace, Christian Science...

- Dooly, you were in the military.- Right.

Get one of those Santa Monica maps,coordinate everybody.

Reconnaissance.

An assignment. Right.

Temples and mosques on Saturday,then we do churches Sunday morning.

- I think I care again.- Are you gonna be alright?

One of our postal customersis in danger.

Thanks, Mrs Alcot, for letting ususe your coffee shop.

Listen up, everybody. Alright. OK.

807,

Santa Monica, 9:30am.

At 9:40am, 672,

Wilshire.

are we not, in truth,

in the highest sense,serving ourselves?

Jemi. Is there a Jemi something orsomeone Jemi in your congregation?

There'll be a day you need a saviour.

You think you don't need a masterbut you do!

And yet we don't need to see oureyebrows to know that they are there.

And we don't need to see the lightto know that it is there.

And as we approach the holidays,we come closer to our families...

- Hang on! What?- People here want to contemplate.

You got it, Mrs Alcot.

Handsome, listen, I can't talk loud.People here wanna contemplate.

Contemplate!

Yeah! They buy one of themlatte things and stare at each other.

When you go to sleep at night,

you believe you'll wake upin the morning.

What if you went to sleep and beganto wonder whether you'd wake up?

Which brings me to Doubting Thomas.Our old friend Doubting Thomas.

He was lost...

Tom, listen. Wendy's got something.

Tom, you gotta hurry back here.

so speak up.

- What did you find here?- The letter has an S I didn't see.

- What did she say?- She found Jemi's ass.

He did a unique thing on the tailon "place". It's places of worship.

I didn't see the S because I didn'thave my glass. Not place, places.

Several religious places inone compact area. Like the Vatican.

Does it even make any difference?We got 45 minutes.

Then somebody's just gonna diebecause we lost him.

I got it. But I'm not helping,I'm just hanging out.

three-dimensional tableaux

in Santa Monica. Religious places.

They're right there.

Alright, Wendy, Rebecca, we'll checkit out. You guys watch the phones.

Stop the car! Behind the manger,that's Look Out Point.

- We've no time to sightsee.- That's where people jump from!

- How do you know that?- Cos I dated a guy that jumped.

- What time is it?- Is it noon yet?

We blew it.

We blew our first miracle.

Is there a splattered body anywhereor has a car flattened the sucker?

I can't look.

No, I will look.I am good enough to look.

It could be Jemiheaded into the water!

- Wendy, I actually heard you!- A plunge in the water!

That's him! That's gotta be!

Jemi!

Don't do it! Jemi!

He's gonna drown!

This guy has officially becomea pain in the ass.

They're both gonna drown!

- What do you want?- We got your letter.

- What letter?- To God.

- You're not God!- Not even close.

Not much of a swimmereither, really.

I'll go. Be brave.

I'll go find towels.

We need to borrow towels!There's someone in the water!

I got you. Maybe not.

More towels! Sir, please! Sir!

Two more. There.

I gotcha.

Napkins. Great. Coming!

Jemi...!

It's so dangerous.I was gonna go in there

and then I had to get the towels.

There were three.Wendy, you're really wet.

There you go.

You poor thing.

Why did you do that?

It's my job at the Post Office.

We don't like citizens in the water.Makes it hard to deliver mail.

Why did you do that?

OK.

My wife died last Christmas.

All my friends are dead.

Anybody I can talk to is dead.

I wanted to be with my Annand my friends. You stopped me.

- Why?- Maybe the reward is in the caring.

- You don't even know me!- So you'll do this again tomorrow?

- Probably, yeah.- We only do rescues on our day off.

He's kidding.Of course we'll rescue you.

But could you give us an ideaof the time?

No! That's good.You can spend the rest of the day

not butting intoother people's business.

He lost his wife and friends.That's so depressing.

Did I tell youI was a recovering workaholic?

- Rebecca, more towels.- OK.

If you were going to k*ll yourself,why write to God? Why not just do it?

There is nothing wrong

with people choreographingtheir own ending.

A lot of people do it.Even more people think about it.

Didn't you ever think about it?

Well, I guess I'm just curiousto see how the hand plays out.

I'm 74 years old!

I don't have timefor another hand to be dealt.

- Maybe you need to meet someone.- Sure. Who would date me?

I got brown spots all over.

I got a voice like a loud snore.

I got a lot of hair in my ears.

Sure, who's gonna date me?

Maybe a blind woman.

If we're gonna keep the ball rolling,

up with a system. Mr Dooly?

- Hats?- I get headaches. I can't wear hats.

To people coming in, it looks likehats, but wait till you see this.

Got 'em all categorised, people.

Bin A, these are people's needs.Things, someone, food, love, a break.

Bin B, places and what they need...

"Dear God,

my sister and I are nursesat a retirement home."

"We read an article that saidsingle people live longer

when they have a pet to loveand care for." Dooly, listen!

"We've got the senior single people."

Thank you, Lori and Terri Nathan. "

Hi, how are you?

Darwin! He needs a home.

This is Darwin. Best dog of the lot.

Here, how about a nice kitty?

No, Mr Raskin is allergic to cats.He can't have cats.

- He ought to have a medical sign.- Forget that, go get Mr Raskin!

- Tom.- Excuse me.

Dooly! Dooly,are you completely psychotic?

"Dear God..."

and Charlotte. I thank you for them. "

such a job raising them!"

It's day and night, 24 hours. "

my in-laws live in Alaska

since I married Kenny. "

Just one night to relax. "

"Thank you, Crystal Fricker."

"Dear God, I've tried to maintain

since Alex died. "

Thank you. "

and happy, healthy kids. "

from cleaning at the hotel

to do it again in my own home. "

and patience with the kids

and cause more work for me at home. "

So, this the big date?

There's no date.Sarah gave me the afternoon off,

so I figured I'd test outsome new recipes on him.

If Sylvia Plath were alive today

in a microwave oven

- I'll do that one tonight.- OK.

Tom and I are going outbut Rebecca will take you next door.

You can play as many video games asyou like then she'll take you home.

- We'll have a good time, won't we?- Yes.

- OK.- This isn't a...

I know.

Well, it's a beautiful day today,so you two have a lot of fun.

Is she gonna do that all day?

OK, here come the videos.Let's go.

Charles, I owe you.

Yeah. It's OK, Tommy.

Just clean up after yourselves.

You got about an hour.

- How do you know that guy?- Gave him a tip on a horse.

And he still let us in.

- You're confusing me.- Why?

We both knowthat you're a screw-up, but lately...

Gloria, trust me, you can't trust me.

That's what I thought.I believe you.

Thank you very much.

What did I promise you?A concert, a picnic and a dance.

And that, my dear,is exactly what you shall have.

So what about your father? I'veonly heard you talk about your mom.

My dad couldn't cut it as a golferso he became a golf hustler, I guess.

This is my place.

- Celebrity Apartments?- Yeah.

- Do celebrities live here?- Yeah.

None that you'd actually know,but a lot of international stars.

Huge Honduran contingent.You're not coming, are you?

- Tell me more about your father.- We've done this. He's a golfer.

You told me your dad's a mortician.I didn't laugh.

We talked about Indiana,New Jersey.

I believe we're tothe awkward groping part.

Yeah, but you said, "I guess".

So where's your dad?

I don't know.

Where is he?

Well, when I was a kid,one morning, very early,

I heard a noise downstairs.

It was my dad. He was standing there,

and he told me to close my eyes.

I thought he hadsome sort of a surprise for me.

When I opened them...

...he was gone.

I never closed my eyes again.

Sorry you asked, right?

- And you never heard from him?- No, I never did.

It's still early.You should check the place out.

You'll feel so much betterabout your own place.

I think I'd like to feel awkwardin private.

Just for a few minutes, though.

It's right here.It might be on the messy side.

- I'm sure it's fine.- More company, Tom?

- I won't tell "The Enquirer."- Thanks, Otis.

I won't tell "Unsolved Mysteries"about you.

Tom!

Somebody really trashed the place.

The fish are OK.

Who's Junior?

Someone determinedto ruin our evening.

I'm sorry.

It's just stuff.

Yeah, well,it's the only stuff I own.

Possessions are chains.

A free man owns nothing.

You don't really believe that.

You want me to sayyou don't have a pot to piss in?

Like they say,no good deed goes unpunished.

Would you mail this for me? Word is,you have a lot of pull with the man.

"God, the big guy in the sky."

- Would you?- We'll take care of it.

- Thank you.- I gotta get some breakfast.

Why would they break my eggs?It makes no sense.

- Don't we know each other?- I don't think so. I'm here a lot.

I love this neighbourhood.I love the ambience, the milieu.

"Dear God, my horn is in hock."

will only hold it a few more days. "

"I'm desperate for a horn."

Randy Sky Tyler. "

All the clerks selling Elvis stamps

are not permitted to dress like him.

No, not there!Throw it here. Like me.

You? Like that?

No, not at me! Like me.

- You like me?- No. Get away!

No, no. Like me.

I don't see why you can'tdo your nails at the end of the day.

Tom, you just don't understand nails.

Changing shift.

You had some visitors again.

Alright, everybody, let's Macarena.

Come on up, I'm having a party.

was burglarised last night. "

but what the hell, it's Christmas. "

has to be better

which he is better off without. "

"Signed, everyone but Tom."

Our letters are getting to God

and, for that, I am very grateful.

than they're getting to my sister.

in today's "El Periodico"

and her letter to God,

The Case of the Postal Miracles.

This is Andre James signing off.

Yo, cowboy, take it easy! It wasJunior's idea to trash this place.

Dude! Are you boffing the cleaninglady or something? Nice pad!

Hurry up and beat me up, Webster.I gotta get some sleep.

Food, dude!

Listen, man, there ain't gonna beany beating. Junior's dead.

He's dead?

I can't believe it.Heart attack, right?

I knew he neededto lose a few pounds.

Nope. Got hit by a bus.Did a lot of damage to the front end.

So, happy holidays!

Don't mess with my head.

So, what? I'm off the hook now?I'm officially debt-free?

Right. But first things first.

Tonight, you and meare gonna make party like old times!

Wait. Get your own.This is my chaser.

That is, if you can still party.

I heard you and some postal buddieshave been doing some good deeds.

You are kidding, right?

This is my greatest hustleof all time, Webster.

Eventually, people will send moneythrough the mail,

I'll take the money out,pay off whoever you work for,

and you can get your bootsoff of Lucille's blanket.

Tom!

I brought in a horn.

Don't tell me. We're gonna startthe DLO marching band?

No, it's for Randy, the homeless guy.

where it came from. He's too proud.

He can pick it up himself.

- "Pertect."- "You're starting to participate."

No, just helping a fellow musician.

I'm Emanda Maineat the Central Post Office

as crowds gather for some signof a miracle in their lives.

Doug Diamond at LA Post Officewith people in search of miracles.

People of all shapes and sizes.

Police feel it could turn intoa logistical nightmare.

Can we go again? I have a hair issue.

As a retired juggling motorbikehoodlum, what are you praying for?

- I need a new hog.- Stories of hope.

This one is from a homeless guyliving on Ocean Avenue.

He says they really need food,boxes and cans this Christmas.

the holiday spirit is engulfing LA.

Emanda Maine has the update.

Emanda?

a wave of kindness is going on.

post was robbed.

from the Post Office

to make up for the stolen ones.

homeless people

Santa Claus would bring canned food.

would be coming but...

He is coming!

I'm Barbara Beck. Good evening.

"Dear God,I am young, gifted and Latino,

but the people on the soap operas,

don't think I could play a WASP hunkopposite Susan Lucci."

"Dear God,I need a jet-black turbo Saab 900."

Of course you do, sir! Poor guy.Put him at the top of the list.

Rebecca's rocking.

"Dear God, I am sorry for my sins."

"I have had my faith restoredthese last few weeks."

"In honour of my patron saint, Paul,

please accept this $5,000to use as you please."

Cash?

$5,000? That could dosomebody a lot of good.

5,000?Nobody ever sent that before!

Let's add it to the 82 centsin the DLO fund.

- Tom, tell us what we do with it.- You be in charge of the money.

So?

Let me think about this.

Attention, everybody. Be careful.

our postal people on the head.

Put it back. All of it.

- Turn it in to the Financial Office?- If that's what you do.

The man's an angel.

This is the second timeI've seen him return money.

Tom Turner cannot be bought!

It's a setup. They want to charge uswith stealing cash from the mail.

- A Federal offence.- Of course!

You're an extraordinarilyparanoid guy. I like that!

It's a madhouse out there!

Pushing, shoving, squeezing!I had a little fun!

"Mucho mas" mail for Dear God.

- Tom, what do we do now?- Now?

Now we hang low for a while.See what they do if all this stops.

You think if you guys stop,the letters will stop?

We just got started here. We got allthe bins organised and everything.

OK, so we're clear? Low profile.

Try not to do anything nicefor a few days.

I was beginning to care.

You know, when you care,you're kind of rewarded for that.

US Postmaster General.

very upset.

is really answering these letters?

I don't think so.

in the postal business.

But we have one ironclad rule.

You cannot open someone else's mail.

Elvis, God, the Easter Bunny.

other people's mail. That's the rule.

and we will put them in jail!

Barbara Beck saying goodnight.

Thanks for helping with his homework.

He's better at math than I am.It's frightening.

OK, so clue me in.Are you going to jail?

You afraid you'll haveto dress in black

and pine awayin front of the prison?

No, I just don't know howto bake a file into a bran muffin.

I see. But it's safe to say

that you weremaybe thinking about it.

- You can never tell.- You were considering it.

- I saw that!- Yes.

OK, say goodbye.

Bye.

- Thanks for doing my homework.- See you, buddy.

- Good luck tomorrow.- Yeah.

I saw that, too!

a frenzied make-me-a-miracle crowd

holiday heat wave in Los Angeles.

It was not me. I swear on the Bible.

Did you guys know we was on TV?

They said we did 14 postal miraclessince Friday.

We're getting creditfor miracles we didn't do.

What is going on?

- Don't you get it?- No.

Well, they do. Faith, Thomas. Faith.People are helping people.

Regular people are doing miraclesall by themselves.

And you started it.You should be proud.

Congratulations.

- Let's get to work.- Nice job, guys!

Way to go! Thanks, Tom!

Postal Police! Everybody, freeze!

I am not illegal. I am Puerto Rican.

That's him.But there must be a mistake.

No, that's the guy.

- Eye-dris Abraham?- Idris.

Idris Abraham, you're under arrest.Cuff him good. Put him in the car.

This is big mistake. We fix.

Guy, what...?

- This is great. Like being on "Cops."- Why are you...?

How about that guy? Ten days leftto his pension and he screws up.

He forged a notice-of-delivery slipand we nailed him.

Everybody, come, go back to work.Back!

- "Father?"- "Wait, I remember you."

You're the beeper man. You walkedout on my sermon about Thomas.

- You remember that?- Yeah.

Comedians and priests,we never forget a walkout.

While I'm here, out of curiosity,

how did that sermonon Doubting Thomas end?

Well, you know,Thomas found his belief again.

Then, according to the versionI like,

Thomas became a wealthy architect.He moves to India,

he meets this king,who gives him a ton of cash and says,

"Build me a grand palace."

That's it? The end?

He spent every rupee ofthe king's fortune feeding the poor.

- When the king found out...- He k*lled him. Sent his g*ons in.

No. Thomas told him,"Instead of a palace on Earth,

I've built you a palace in heaven."

And then he k*lled him.I got it. Thank you.

Can you hold this, please?

Well, look, the king let Thomas go

and Thomas spent the rest of hishappy life sacrificing for others.

- So Thomas conned the king, right?- No.

No, the king was not conned.

The king had faith. He believed.

See, that's where I get confused.

That's good. Confusion is good.Faith isn't arrived at easily.

It's the struggle that gives itits power and its meaning.

You still struggling?

Every day. Yeah.

When times are particularly trying,

I try to act as if everything is asit should be, the way God intends it.

And then, eventually,I get my faith back.

What if you never had itto begin with?

That's a big one, isn't it?

I can't believe I'm doing this.My name is Rebecca.

I'm pretending I rememberhow to be a lawyer, which I don't.

Do they have anything on us?I mean, him?

A trumpet. Some homeless musiciangot a horn from God.

They traced it back to Idris, who'scharged with tampering with the mail.

He'll probably plea-bargain and throwour bodies on the spears! Ratfink!

No. You didn't hear?No, he confessed.

Confessed to what?He didn't do anything.

They told him if he pleaded guilty,they'd drop the whole investigation.

- But he's the only one not guilty.- I should not be saying this,

but it doesn't exactly feel rightto let him take the rap alone.

I feel OK.

I don't know what good it'd dofor us to turn ourselves in.

Now, Tom, what do you think?

I think...

...I should have gone to jailin the first place.

I'd have meta better class of people there.

that approximately 55 percent

in a thing called miracles.

It is cynicism we learn.

Let's go to the LA Post Office.

This is Tom Turner, a postal worker,

with some new information onthe God Squad Case. Mr Turner?

Yeah, they arrested the wrong man.Idris Abraham was a scapegoat.

- "Really?"- "He wasn't involved in any of this."

- "And how do you know this?"- "Because I did it all."

Excuse me?

I did it all. It was me.

I did everything.

I've got another client.

As we approach Christmas, the case

takes another strange turn.

been set free and given his pension,

has confessed

God's mail without authorisation.

The Postal Miracle trial has takena holiday high-speed lane

through the overloaded court docket.

Having dispensed with thearraignment, we are ready for trial.

And the whole country is watchingas the Post Office miracle workers

take on the US Governmentin a modern-day David versus Goliath.

Legal experts predict that,in this case, Goliath will win.

I agreed to let youbroadcast from here

but you gotta work or I'll get fired.Pick up a brush. Grab the putty!

I'm here for you.

I meant to keep you guys outta here,so you could continue your work.

I'm sorry.

Mr Bacon?

This court is now in session.Judge Kits Van Heynigan presiding.

Stuart Banks, for the prosecution.For the defence, Rebecca Frazen.

Excuse me.

Pardon me.

Excuse me. Stuart!

Hi. When did you get out ofthe rubber bungalow?

Good to see you. Gentlemen.

- He knows you?- I used to live with him,

in another life. A total sociopath.

Not a problem.

Your Honour, we are prepared todayto charge one Mr Tom Turner

with several counts of tampering,

impersonating a Federal employeeand theft of government property.

Does the defencehave an opening statement?

Not at this time.

I guess we never thought aboutwho Tom was,

or his people,or how God had contacted them.

I thought he was a nice man,that Tom Turner.

So you turned to Tom Turner?

Well, no. I turned to God.

What he did was very nice,

but I don't knowif what he did was right.

Thank you.No more questions, Your Honour.

The prosecution rests.

OK, give it to me straight.Worst-case scenario.

One to five years for every count,or every miracle.

12 miracles. You could get 60 years.

We'll adjourn until 1 pm.

Lunch. I gotta go.

Can I have my son back now?

where lawyers for the prosecution

in contentious legal debate

over the origins, motivesand parties responsible

in the so-calledPostal Miracle trial.

I've dealt withsome of these attorneys.

People, I've been to boxing matchesthat are more civilised.

- You may be seated.- Mr Turner.

Are there any witnessesfor the defence?

Witnesses? I don't even knowwhere my lawyer is.

We're here.

We're here, Your Honour.

We're all here.

El numero uno.

El hombre con los manos de piedra.I'm the one you're looking for.

He was a pawnin the chess game of life.

Why would a con like Tom Turnerdo good deeds?

Think about it.

- Did you talk them into this?- No. They all wanted to do it.

Do you have to typewhile I'm talking?

It was! It was Thursday.I threatened Tom.

I said, "Either get in on thisor I'll bite out your spleen!"

Mr Dooly, do you really expect usto believe you're the enforcer type?

Yeah. You got a problem with that,bobbing head?

Wanna see?Wanna see me enforce something?

I'd like to enforce you. Let's takeit outside! Come on, let's go!

I want this manremoved from my courtroom.

Take him out.

I'll get you, you legal lump of lard!

Lighten up here.

You come down to the Post Officefor stamps, you'll be in line a week.

Now, Mr Vidov, if you would give usyour impression of the defendant...

I've lost the witness, Your Honour.

No, right here. I lost pipe. I'mtrying to stop smoking. I'm nervous.

There's no smoking in the courtroom.

No? OK.

Now, if you would give usyour impression of Mr Tom Turner.

See, I do believe that Godmay or may not live in heaven...

And you're going to heaven?

I believe in Russian proverb.

It says, you go to heaven for weatherand hell for the company.

- May I finish, please?- Knock yourself out.

I do believe that God also liveswithin each of us.

Is this going somewhere?

Perhaps He does not livewithin lawyers.

But I believe that Godwas speaking through Tom.

Tom Turner made ordinary peopledo extraordinary things.

We need this.

As his supervisor,I covered up for him.

Therefore, I am as guilty as him.

OK.

Enough. Fine.

Is there anybody else herewho would like to confess?

Is there anybody else here thatthe defence would like to blame?

Maybe society at large?

Maybe the media?

Maybe, I don't know, Lex Luthor.

Maybe Sacco and Vanzetti.Maybe Hannibal Lecter.

Maybe the one-armed man.What the hell is going on?

Now that I have your attention,Mr Banks,

please proceedwith a little more decorum,

rather than this childish displayof histrionics.

Yes, Judge Kits Van Heynigan.

The prosecution is finishedwith its cross-examination.

It is so obvious this wholeperformance is just to impress me.

Put your arm around me.

- What?- Put your arm around me.

Does the defence rest?

Rebecca?

Yes. Defence rests.

In that case, Your Honour,

the prosecution is ready to beginits summation.

After a five-minute recess.

a serial k*ller

cereal. No one knows the motive.

the Who's Answering God's Mail case.

That's right, Barbara.

Experts are even more certain thatthe prosecution's case will prevail.

It's defence attorney RebeccaFrazen's first time in the courtroom

since leaving the legal professiontwo years ago for unknown reasons.

Rumour has itshe appeared at a deposition

for an animal-rights casetotally nude.

Will you stop the shaking?I'm trying to listen!

The Government wishes to keepits focus on Mr Tom Turner,

despite the multitude of sinsconfessed to by his co-workers.

Now, what do these co-workershave in common?

All of them have workedat the Post Office for years

without ever committing a crime.

- That's a good point.- Shut up!

The defendant, however,a man with a dubious character,

arrived a month and a half ago,

at precisely the same time that theseso-called miracles began to occur.

He broke the law

and he directed othersto break the law.

But worst of all,he literally chose to play God,

to who knows how many hundredsof good and faithful people.

And what of the countless otherswho write to God every day?

There must be accountability here.

There must be a reckoning.

This is no petty misdemeanour,Your Honour.

This is hurtful and cruel fraud.

The Government demandsthe maximum fine and imprisonment.

I know, Tom.I was the one that got you into this

and I'm gonna figure outsomething tonight.

- And I'm gonna get you out.- Thanks.

We'll adjournuntil nine tomorrow morning.

"I just want you to know

thing and we're proud of you. "

to make you smile. "

Here we are.

I didn't know Rebecca had dogs.

Dogs?

Your Honour, these are my witnessesfor my closing argument.

- Alright, proceed.- Thank you, Your Honour.

Let me take you back,back millions of years ago,

when the Earth spewed forthmany different species

from its molten loins.

Some species stayed in theirmicroscopic state, others moved on.

No matter how far they developed,

they all retainedone common characteristic

which I will demonstrate for you now.

Your Honour,

this is Rocky.

And Rocky is a healthylittle doggie, aren't you, sugars?

And that is his friend, Taffy. AndTaffy's been a sick puppy all week.

Now, Taffy needs some nourishment,

and in my pocketI have a little doggie treat,

which I am going to set betweenthese two old friends.

Now, healthy doggy Rocky caresabout his poor sick friend Taffy,

but he still quickly gobbled upthe treat.

Gobbled it up!

Because Rocky acted only on instinctand not feelings.

Because that is what animals do,Your Honour.

You big thing, you!

But human beings,

human beings are ableto help their friends,

because human beings can recognisewhen their friends are sick,

or our friends are happy,

or our friends are... sad.

Now, yes, maybe Tom Turner did do

some of those thingsthat the learned prosecutor,

who sucks his thumb in his sleep,says that he did.

But Tom Turnerdidn't do these things for himself.

Tom Turner did these thingsfor other people.

Can the dogs leave now,before there's an accident?

- OK, everybody up.- Rocky and Taffy may step down.

Mayday! Mayday!

We all know what Tom Turner did.What we don't know is why he did it.

Things aren't going well.I need all the help I can get.

- Would you like to know why?- I'd like to know.

I need sorters, carriers, drivers.

Speaking on his own behalf,

may Tom Turner finishmy closing argument?

Roll the trucks.

You didn't prep me on this.

Just tell them the truth,or... make something up.

Proceed. I want to celebrateChristmas before it's New Year's.

- She's making Tom speak?- Yeah.

Thank you,Judge Kits Van... Heineken.

- I can't pronounce your name.- Then call me Shirley.

But let's get this thingmoving along.

I don't have any dogs with meand I'm not a very good dancer.

I can only tell you my thoughts.

I lay awake most of last night,wondering how I ended up here.

About how I've spent my lifeplaying people for fools.

And these losers' letters to Godgave you a sudden change of heart?

They didn't. When I first saw them,I thought these people were saps.

If I could have taken advantageof them, I would have.

But they didn't have anythingto take, except their faith.

And I didn't even know what that was.

I mean, how could people,

especially people dealtsuch crummy, pathetic hands,

have faith in anything or anyone?

I don't know how things got going,

but it's not because I hadsome sort of noble intention.

If anything, it's because I metsomebody who saw right through me.

I wanted her to think I was a betterperson than we both knew me to be.

She's not here right now.

Her name is Gloria.

She had to work.As many do, I've discovered.

Window.Mr Bacon, will you please see to it

that all of the windowsare tightly closed?

Yeah, Tom!

- Proceed, young man.- Well, that's pretty much it.

I mean, the letters kept pouring inand I began to believe.

To believethat I could really help people

and that that was more rewardingthan any con that I could pull.

And then I found,this is the really bizarre thing,

the less I tried to take advantageof people, the more I got back.

Your Honour,I lost my programme notes.

Is this where we all clapfor Tinker Bell?

You're blessedwith a con artist's gift

of talking his way out of trouble.

That didn't sound like a compliment.

So how do I knowif your words are sincere

or if they're some cynical attemptto talk your way out of trouble?

I don't know.

I appreciate your candour,Mr Turner.

And I hope that you can appreciate...

Would somebody please tell mewhat is going on out there?

The Federal courthouse is surrounded

by what appears to beevery mail truck in the Southland.

traffic is at a standstill.

Tom in jail, no mail.

Your Honour, you're gonna have tosee it to believe it.

There must be 1,000 postal trucksout there.

That's a damn miracle.

Let go of me.

I am Postmaster GeneralPreston Sweeny.

Sure! I'm Shaquille O'Neal,this is Michael Jordan,

but you still can't go in.

I flew in from Washington.I left a party to come here.

He is the Postmaster General! Sorry.

Thank you very much.I'll remember you. Let go of me!

Mr Sweeny, let's have a photograph!

- We met at your daughter's wedding.- She's divorced.

It's the day before Christmas, I got30 million pieces of mail backed up.

Fruitcakes are rotting all overthis country. Do something.

- Don't tell me what to do.- Tom Turner, the defendant.

My client might plead no contestto one count of unauthorised...

- Miracle doings.- Are you nuts? Forget it!

Since he passed his postal exam,

I move that all chargesbe now erased from his record.

Free Tom T!

They seem to like Tom, Your Honour.

The mail must be delivered. Please.

With the proviso that the defendantcomplete a year of employment,

as was previously orderedby the lower court,

this court finds the defendant,Tom Turner,

not guilty.

Tom Turner, the Rocky Balboaof the judicial system,

has scored a knockout. Acquittal.

Tom Turner, not guilty,as in innocent.

As in, he needed a miracleand he got one.

I was wrong about you.

- Yes, you were.- Thanks, Rebecca.

I'll see you at work.

You missed my speech.

Way to go. I gotta see my buddy,the Postmaster General.

It was a piece of cake.I think I might go to law school.

The verdict is in. Not guilty.

You didn't even writea Dear God letter!

Mr Turner, if you don't come out hereand wave, there'll be a riot.

By the way, you won the bet.Steep odds.

- You bet the bailiff on the verdict?- Just a silly side bet.

There's Joey.

- Hi, Mom.- There's my mom.

Where?

He's got a girl with him.

- Really?- Yeah.

Close your eyes.

Take a chance, Tom.

See?

the effects of the God Squad linger

and, hopefully, even longer.

Herman Dooly got his old route back

which had cost him his job.

Hi, everybody, I'm back.I got my route back. I'm back.

- Mr Roscoe, how are you?- Herman, how are you doing?

Good to see you.Merry Christmas. Take care.

Have a happy New Year.

Hi, Mrs Cooper.Hi, Dee-Dee! How are you?

- Welcome back.- Good to see you.

Stay calm, Mr Dooly.

Hi, Wallace.

I'm sorry that I bit you in the knee.

I was just under a lot of pressureat the time.

It seemed like the thing to do.

You were barking, too.So it was kind of...

I don't want tolay no blame or nothing.

Anyway, I'm sorry.

See you around, pal.

Happy holidays, Wallace!

Mrs Morgan,got those cookies with the raisins?
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