Dear God Page #7

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 was|Junior's idea to trash this place.

Dude! Are you boffing the cleaning|lady or something? Nice pad!

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

Food, dude!

Listen, man, there ain't gonna be|any beating. Junior's dead.

He's dead?

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

I knew he needed|to 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 me|are 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 buddies|have been doing some good deeds.

You are kidding, right?

This is my greatest hustle|of all time, Webster.

Eventually, people will send money|through the mail,

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

and you can get your boots|off of Lucille's blanket.

Tom!

I brought in a horn.

Don't tell me. We're gonna start|the 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 Maine|at the Central Post Office

as crowds gather for some sign|of a miracle in their lives.

Doug Diamond at LA Post Office|with people in search of miracles.

People of all shapes and sizes.

Police feel it could turn into|a logistical nightmare.

Can we go again? I have a hair issue.

As a retired juggling motorbike|hoodlum, what are you praying for?

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

This one is from a homeless guy|living 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 hunk|opposite 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 restored|these last few weeks."

"In honour of my patron saint, Paul,

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

Cash?

$5,000? That could do|somebody a lot of good.

5,000?|Nobody ever sent that before!

Let's add it to the 82 cents|in 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 time|I've seen him return money.

Tom Turner cannot be bought!

It's a setup. They want to charge us|with stealing cash from the mail.

- A Federal offence.|- Of course!

You're an extraordinarily|paranoid 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 all|the bins organised and everything.

OK, so we're clear? Low profile.

Try not to do anything nice|for 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 have|to dress in black

and pine away|in front of the prison?

No, I just don't know how|to bake a file into a bran muffin.

I see. But it's safe to say

that you were|maybe 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 miracles|since Friday.

We're getting credit|for 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 miracles|all 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 left|to his pension and he screws up.

He forged a notice-of-delivery slip|and we nailed him.

Everybody, come, go back to work.|Back!

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

You're the beeper man. You walked|out 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 sermon|on Doubting Thomas end?

Well, you know,|Thomas found his belief again.

Then, according to the version|I 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 of|the king's fortune feeding the poor.

- When the king found out...|- He killed him. Sent his goons in.

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

I've built you a palace in heaven."

And then he killed him.|I got it. Thank you.

Can you hold this, please?

Well, look, the king let Thomas go

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