John Walsh: 'Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour's Kit Kat Caramel (£1.39 for 3)'

Tales of the City

I was at home last night, tucking into some Marks & Spencer sustainably sourced crispy cod fillet, pack of 20, £2.99, and enjoying some Gordon's Gin (Oddbins special offer £13.99) when the call came. It was my old friend Father Goodman of St Botolph's Church, Stockwell, and he was in trouble.

"What kind of trouble?" I asked, with a Quaver (cheese flavour 65p) in my voice.

"Falling attendances, John," he said mournfully. "Lack of funds. IOUs in the collection plate. The lead on the roof vanished years ago, and the rain drips into the lady chapel. The diocesan budget has been slashed. I'm at my wits' end. You're a lapsed Catholic, and must surely be crippled with guilt. Can't you help us?"

"I'll be there," I grated, "before you can say Paul Smith." (Autumn sale. Suits from £699. Everything must go.) I rushed to the garage.

As I gunned the Alfa Romeo 157 (in crimson, taupe and midnight blue, 32 mpg) through the streets of south London, reflecting that its road handling far outclasses my old Chrysler Cruiser PT (£13,259 at selected dealers). I thought about the role of religion in our busy lives. Once I believed in divine grace, the spiritual balm that washes the tainted soul like Mr Sheen Spray & Mop Floor Cleaner, £2.99, but in my teenage years I lost my faith. I began to Hobnob (plain or milk chocolate digestive, 75p) with a rough crowd. Fr Goodman warned that I was flirting with hell but I paid no heed. I see my folly now, of course. I should have listened. I should have trusted in the Lord. I should have gone to Specsavers (2 for 1 glasses from £75).

At St Botolph's, I was admitted by the housekeeper Mrs Higginbottom, a sturdy matron in no immediate need of a Stannah Stairlift (total comfort, safety and convenience guaranteed. Two-year warranty). "He's in a terrible state, Mr Walsh," said she. "I'm rushed off me feet bringing him cups of tea all day. Twinings English Breakfast, to be precise, the Cup that Cheers but Does Not Inebriate, £2.65. And he's developed an obsession with the new Rich Golden Caramel range of KitKat, an inexpensive treat at £1.39 for three."

"Not to be confused, Mrs Higginbottom," I laughed, "with Kitekat, the catfood which has inexplicably shed its hyphens over the years."

She brought me to Fr Goodman. It was tragic to see my old spiritual adviser slumped in gloom. "You look terrible," I said. "You need a holiday. Let me help you fix it up. I will not just book it. I will Thomas Cook it."

"Bills, bills, bills," he moaned, brandishing a handful of minatory documents. "And the place is falling apart. The baptismal font is cracked. The rood screen has mildew. There's death-watch beetle in the misericords. Would you like a drink?"

"A pint of John Smith's Extra Smooth, if you don't mind," I said, "now available in 500ml bottles. I am sorry to hear your church is experiencing difficulties. But surely no-one can blame you."

"I wish I could say that," said Goodman. "But at times I have been less than Prudential."

"You mean the investment and pensions company?" I enquired, "or are you using the word in its 'actual meaning' sense?"

"Why," he asked, "are you talking in that immensely irritating way?"

"Don't you know about product placement?" I asked. "The Government has ruled that, henceforth, they will allow product displays in UK-made TV shows. It used to be illegal, but it's all the rage in America. So I've started putting it in my column. It brings me a small fortune every time I mention, say, Nationwide Car Insurance, now with up to 75 per cent no-claim discount."

"I hoped you might be able to help me with the church's dilapidation," he said sadly, "and all you do is crow about this shameful commercialism."

"But there's the solution," I cried. "Your problems would be ended if you embraced product placement. Thousands would roll in if you were seen wearing an iPod during benediction."

He pondered. "Do you mean that, while delivering a sermon on the Garden of Eden, I could suddenly bring out an Apple laptop ... ?"

"You'd be looking at £50,000, easy, my friend."

"Oh my God," he said. "Or should that be 'O2 broadband is my God'?"