I ask, in your infinite wisdom, that you allow Willy to get this job. If he does, in fact, get this job, it will mean very good things.
First of all, I'll be able to finally buy a house. Second of all, I will be able to decorate it as garishly and insanely as I want. Picture PeeWee's Playhouse, but with more weapons. Now, that doesn't mean I'll be leaving YOU out, of course. The house I'm looking at sits on half an acre. That means I'll be able to have a garden, and in that garden, I will have a statue of St. Francis. I will also, somewhere, have a statue of your girl, Mary. I plan on surrounding these statue with roses, which I will tend like an old lady, to encourage blooming.
I will fill one of those five bedrooms with a kid. The other four will be reserved for Willy and I, a computer room, a guest room, and my evil Blood Stud--, I mean, a cute little library.
I will cook in that enormous kitchen for my husband, kid, and our drunken (go sacrificial wine!) guests. I will scrub, and sweep, and wipe, and everything else to keep my home as clean and beautiful as possible. I will tend to my lawn, wash my cars, and yes Lord, I will attend church every Sunday to remind myself that without you, I'd have no beautiful house.
So please, God. Help me to do your good work, and let Willy have this job.
Besides, with two paychecks, I can finally afford these really adorable shoes I've been eyeing. For church going, of course.