When Father Ted heard the news, he felt a wave of panic wash over him. He was sitting in the living room, on the sofa, edged forward in his seat, hanging on the President's every word. There was a virus, he had said, a virus forcing him to stay inside. For goodness knows how long? With Father Jack and Mrs Doyle? That was likely to kill him quicker than any virus ever could. Ted's heart plummeted. No church, no Mass, obviously there would be downsides as well, but he did feel a sense of duty towards his parishioners. Particularly those more vulnerable and needy. Still, he had to do what must be done. If staying inside was going to keep his congregations safe, then that's what he must do. Besides, the President had said it was important.
Ted switched off the TV and got up, walking to the front door to call in Dougal. He couldn't have him out there socialising with Father Damo any longer, not with news of the virus. He didn't know where Father Damo had been. It certainly looked like he spent most of his time in a skip. Ted opened the door and stuck his head out, searching the space outside for Father Dougal and Father Damo.
"Dougal!" he called. "Dougal!"
At first, there was nothing, but eventually, like a Labrador running to its owner, Dougal appeared over the horizon, kicking a ball as he ran. He was young and fit, and Ted wished for the younger lad's spirit. He had envied Dougal's physique many times as the lad undressed for bed.
"What is it, Ted?" Dougal asked as he slowed to a stop at the front door.
"You've got to come inside now," said Ted, thumbing into the house.
"But it's not even six o'clock yet."
"You need to come inside."
"Is tea ready?" asked Dougal, looking over Ted's shoulder.
"No, Dougal. But you need to come in now," insisted Ted. Dougal sighed and stepped into the house.
"But Te-ed," whined Dougal, as Ted closed the door behind him.
"Go on, in," said Ted, ushering Dougal into the sitting room, despite the young curate dragging his feet. "There's something very important I need to talk to you about."
"No, Father Damo did not try and touch my willy," sighed Dougal, as he sat down on the sofa.
Ted stopped in front of the fireplace with his arms folded. "I'm sorry – what?" he asked, jerking his head forward.
"Father Damo didn't try and touch my willy. Not this time. Sometimes I let him because it feels nice but today, he didn't," explained Dougal.
"FECK!" cried Jack from his seat in the corner.
Ted paused for a second and let the words wash over him. "We're going to put a pin in that for now, Dougal, and come back to that later."
"Okay, Ted."
"I need to talk to you because something terrible has happened," said Ted.
"Is it that Mrs Doyle has run out of tea?"
"No."
"Is it that Father Jack has run out of alcohol?"
"DRINK!" Jack bellowed.
"No."
"Is it –,"
"Dougal," Ted warned. "Can I just tell you what it is, or we'll be here all night."
"Alright, Ted," smiled Dougal. "What is it?"
"There's a virus that is spreading all over the world at the moment," explained Ted. "The President has told us that we must stay inside –,"
"GOBSHITE!" screeched Jack.
"He said we have to stay inside to stop it spreading. It's very important," said Ted.
"Oh, well, it's a good thing you brought me in for my tea then, Ted," grinned Dougal. "Don't want to be outside if there's a virus going around."
"No, you're right, Dougal."
"I had such a nice day today," said Dougal.
"That's good to hear."
"Lots of fun. So, what are we doing tomorrow then, Ted?"
"Dougal," Ted sighed. "We can't do anything tomorrow. Anything we do has to be inside."
"What about the next day?"
"Dougal – we're not allowed to go out at all. The President has said we need to stay inside for a while yet, so they can get the virus under control."
"Right so," agreed Dougal.
"So, you understand?" Ted asked. "We can't go out."
"Not for a while," agreed Dougal, grinning. "So, Ted, how long is a while?"
Ted covered his face and composed himself.
"And what is a virus?" Dougal went on. "And does this mean Father Damo can't touch my willy anymore?"