Getting mogged at confession

"father, i have been drinking," the father's robe was unusually dirty. "and that's a problem, bro?" he said. "it's destroying my life. i drink and i drink and i drink and i rage and i can't fuck my wife, and my children are afraid of me." "that's terrible," the priest says, "but God loves you." "i know, and that's why I'm ashamed." "it's okay. say 50 hail maries, and this afternoon come with me to the bar." "what" "yeah. beer before liquor, never been sicker, bro. you have to drink correctly and then you'll be fine and you'll be drowning in pusssy." "i don't want to be drowning in pussy, i love my wife." "well i'm different ig." the priest said. he fidgeted. his robes rustled. his muscles exploded out of them. "excuse me," he said, "i am very thirsty." he retrieved a fuzzy thermos bottle and takes a long drink. then another drink. then another drink. his adams apple bobs. he lets go and sighs, taking pride in his long chugging tradition. "father, are you okay." "yes of course I am okay, god loves us. now we have to schedule going to the bar." later that day we went to the bar and he pissmo