Welcome one, welcome all, to the First Church of Philbin! Step inside, if you will, and, for the small fee of three credits and sixty-nine points, the great Regis Philbin himself will hear your--yes, YOUR--confession! Tell him your sins! Reveal your friends' blasphemies! And remember: a loyal acolyte is always watchful of his neighbors!
 

Opening the intricately carved mahogany door, Lonnie sank into the plush crimson seat of the confessional booth.

    “What can I do for you today, my son?” said a quick, gravelly voice.

    Looking up at the ornately framed film-screen above his head, Lonnie said, “Bless me, Regis, for I have sinned.  It has been two weeks since my last confession.”

     Regis Philbin’s round, cracked face grinned down on Lonnie, his majestic whiskey-lined aura the essence of all things magnificent about prime-time TV.  

    “What do you wish to tell me, my son?” Regis asked.