109- The Man Who Stole the Bible -Ben Wright

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Tonight, we escaped to New Orleans during Mardi Gras, behind the gady of which lies a nightmare world of terror and death, as John and Gwenbagnie tell it in The Man Who Stole the Bible. I didn't mean to steal a Bible. That wasn't my intention.

Why I'd never taken as much as a towel or an ashtray out of a hotel. And if I'd known the night of terror it would lead me into, I'd never have taken it at all.

Mardi Gras, New Orleans, a gay time, a lot of laughs, if you're in on it. But me, I was stuck in a stuffy hotel room waiting for a call from the boss. And the sound of all those people out on the street having fun got on my nerves.

Operator. This Mr. Cummings, room 302. Whatever happened to that bellhop I sent for? Would you speak there? I said... Just a minute. A... Operator. A... Operator. What was it you wanted? Look, I want a bellhop.

I want him to bring me something to read. Anything. You said half an hour ago he was on his way up. But he has the answer to your call yet, Mr. Cummings. He has not.