A shadowy figure enters St. Anne's cathedral and sits down in the confessional, and tells the priest it's been three months since his last confession. Three months? Multiply that by about a hundred and that's about how long it's been for me. I feel like I should have taken notes, because I'm sure there's some confession-requiring stuff that I've forgotten, should I ever decide that I'd like to go to heaven. He asks the priest if he believes God talks to people, and the priest pretty much has to hang up the robe or answer "yes." Well, then, how about the devil? "Do you have something to confess, my son?" asks the priest.
Buddy, getting a little verklempt, says he tries to be a good man, but he sees things. And we flash through what this guy sees. A man in a suit getting on a city bus. Sitting down, he looks at the other passengers, specifically at a woman with a backpack.
"It's happening again, and I'm scared," says Buddy, back in the confessional. Scared of what, asks the apparently bored priest. "Of what's going to happen on the bus!' says Buddy.
Which is this: as the bus enters a tunnel, the man opens up his briefcase, and calmly takes out a gas mask and straps it on. This does not fail to escape the notice of the other passengers, but before they have too much time to react, the man pulls out a shiny metal canister, pulls it open an inch or so, and rolls it down the aisle. It spews smoke, and as the other passengers start to freak out, the man calmly walks down the aisle and picks up the woman's backpack.
In the church, Buddy is getting more and more agitated, and the priest has asked if he's hurt someone. Buddy bolts from the confessional and runs off through the nave.
The man on the bus steps off, totally forgetting to get a transfer. He pulls off the mask and gets into a car waiting nearby. Fortunately the bus drove into an ENTIRELY DESERTED tunnel in the middle of RUSH HOUR.
Back at the church, the priest chases the confessor, who drops a piece of paper as he hurries out. "Roy, I know it's you!" yells the priest. So much for the privacy of the confessional. The priest picks up the crumpled piece of paper, on which is drawn a black-and-white picture of screaming bus passengers. Judging from the utter sense of despair, I'm guessing this is from a Monday-morning commute.
Back in the tunnel, one police car has shown up, with one cop all, "Come on, move it along," at least until he shines his flashlight into the bus to find the passengers frozen in some kind of plastic or gel filling the entire interior. That's no excuse for being late for work! You should have left a little earlier!