In Paris, France, Hya Loid (name at birth Hyman Lloyd, on account of his father's forefathers having been Welsh) was on his third bourbon since the live broadcast of the show ended, when Ernie Bagatelle, the Floor Manager came across the bar to him and said: "you really fucked up there, Hymie," which as an opener felt kind of over the top to the comic: "what I done now, Ernie?" he asked, putting a soulful look into his Eddie Cantor eyes, but the Floor Manager wasn't going to be deflected so easily: "the story about the flags, with the color-blind private putting up the Green one instead of the red, ordering the Attack instead of Retreat, was the wrong way round, is what," but Hymie shrugged: "it worked better," he said, "but what's the diff?" and Ernie whispered: "it came from the Government," he hissed, "a coded message to Agents in the field somewhere, you've ordered them to do somethin' they ain't spose to,", but Hymie rolled his eyes: "guess I musta be color-blind myself," he chuckled, "c'mon, no harm done – look, I'll even go into Notre Dame with you and put a $5 donation in the Mariolatry Collection Box, ain't that enough atonement?" but Ernie – a devout Catholic – was stung by the remark: "you can't buy absolution, Hymie, when I make a Confession, it has to be honest and sincere, Faith ain't for gym bunnies," at which Hymie signalled to the bartender for a refill, and one for Ernie, then turned to his friend: "apologies, Ernie, I didn't meant to offend, but you gotta realise, my religion ain't so circumscribed as yours – okay, we got dietary laws that would probably give you a heart attack, but while your Pope is Infallible, our Rabbis will argue all day and night about their different interpretations of something in the Torah or Talmud, cause everythin's relative; look, you want me to record the right ending for the repeat? when's it goin out?" and "couple hours," said Ernie, "yeah, let's do it an just hope they didn't hear the show first time round."