Tom Cruise: Most Embarrassing Moment

Tom Cruise and the Starving Catfish Confession
East Vancouver, 1985

It was a foggy Thursday evening when Joe Jukic found Tom Cruise sitting cross-legged behind Our Lady of Sorrows Church, right next to a cracked birdbath and an overturned statue of St. Francis. Tom was wearing a simple brown robe, sandals made of old belt straps, and a rope belt tied in a humble monk's knot. A pigeon sat on his shoulder. A squirrel inched closer to his palm. He looked peaceful.

“Tom,” Joe said, “are you… studying to be a monk?”

Tom nodded solemnly.

“Franciscan. No possessions, no lies, no gluten. Just animals and soul work.”

Joe looked down and noticed a plastic kiddie pool with two catfish swimming in it. They looked tired. Hungry. Maybe even ashamed.

“Why catfish?”

Tom sighed. “Because they never judge you. And they thrive in murky water.”

Joe squatted beside him. “So why did Fox Studios—why did the CIA—humiliate you on The Simpsons? That episode A Fish Called Selma? You know. The whole Troy McClure and fish thing. Feels like… a coded hit.”

Tom didn't look up. He sprinkled cornmeal into the kiddie pool. The catfish twitched. One snapped lazily at a bubble.

“They were starving, Joe,” Tom whispered.

“The fish?”

“The people. Hollywood. Their spirits. They starved for something real. So I came… to feed the fish.”

Joe tilted his head. “So the fish thing on The Simpsons—that wasn’t about you?”

Tom finally looked up. His eyes were haunted but clear.

“I confessed,” he said. “I confessed to Russell Brand, who was pretending to be a priest. Then I confessed again… to Bruce Springsteen, who wouldn’t stop playing acoustic guitar during the absolution.”

Joe stared.

“It was my most embarrassing moment in East Van,” Tom said. “I was in a wetsuit at Trout Lake trying to baptize myself with a catfish when someone thought I was stealing koi from the community pond. Police came. I was speaking in Aramaic.”

He sighed deeply.

“So sue me.”

Joe sat beside him in silence. For a while, they just listened to the hum of Commercial drive traffic and the low gurgle of the kiddie pool filter.

“Tom,” Joe said quietly, “you okay?”

Tom turned to him, all monk and movie star.

“Better than okay,” he said. “I’m free. You know what St. Francis said?”

Joe shrugged.

“‘Preach always. Use words if necessary.’”

He pointed at the catfish.

“They know what I mean.”

And in that quiet East Van moment, it almost made sense.