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i'm just a literary tease, my reputation's on its knees.

Not for the Faint of Heart (or Easily Offended)

September 17, 2004

I was thinking tonight about becoming a N.U.N. I mean, I’m going to a Catholic college University. How hard could it be to be a N.U.N.? I mean, there’s probably a test that would go something like this:

( Try to picture it if you can: I’ll probably be wearing an exceptionally short skirt and a pair of thigh high fishnets. I’m pretty sure they don’t let nuns wear that kind of stuff, you know, that whole Madonna / Whore Complex thing? So I figure I might as well get it out of my system while I can. )

H.B.I.C*. of N.U.N.S: So, Ms. Richardson, what made you decide to devote your life to God in order to become a Nifty Underwater Ninja?

Moira: Well, I like the hats.

H.B.I.C. of N.U.N.S.: Well, alrighty then! Welcome to N.U.N.hood! For your fabulous answer, You have just won an all-expenses paid trip to H.E.A.V.E.N!

Moira: Oh. Alright.

H.B.I.C. of N.U.N.S.: You have also won ten billion prayers a day, no sex ever for the rest of your life, and this way cool glow-in-the-dark crucifix!!!

Moira: (takes plastic jesus necklace) Um... Thanks!

H.B.I.C. of N.U.N.S.: You might think that with a reward like H.E.A.V.E.N. you wouldn’t need anything else! We-ellllll, we know better than that, don’t we audience?!? (roars of approval from the crowd. Moira looks around anxiously.)
Haha, damned straight we do! Moira, you also won a whopping fifty bucks!
(thrusts forward a thick contract and a pen.)

(The fine print: TO BE USED FOR YOUR FOOD RATIONS FOR THE NEXT FIVE YEARS. IF YOU STOP BEING A NUN YOU WILL GO STRAIGHT TO HELL AND BURN THERE FOR, LIKE, TEN YEARS AND THEN YOU WILL GO TO THE RICHARD SIMMONS’ ROOM FOR, OH, FIVE YEARS GIVE OR TAKE, AND THEN YOU WILL GO THE HIGH SCHOOL PROM, WALMART THE DAY AFTER THANKSGIVING, THE LICKED BY SENIOR CITIZENS ROOM FOR ABOUT SIX MONTHS EACH, A COUPLE MISCELLANEOUS HELLS BASED ON YOUR OWN PERSONAL FEARS AND MISDEEDS FOR ABOUT FIVE YEARS EACH UP TO A TOTAL OF FIFTY YEARS AND THEN FINALLY JUST WHEN YOU THINK YOU’D HAD ENOUGH YOU’LL GO RIGHT UP THERE TO THE BRITNEY SPEARS LOOKALIKE TALENT CONTEST FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE! MuHAHAHAHAHA!!!!

SIGN HERE

-------------------
(MOIRA)

LOVE YOU! JESUS
KISSES XOXOXO)

Moira: (takes the pen being offered her. It is a red feather pen and she tickles her nose with it and sneezes.) Um.

H.B.I.C. of N.U.N.S.: Just sign it! All the fabulous prizes can be yours. All you have to do is sign on the dotted line.

Moira: Um.

H.B.I.C. of N.U.N.S.: Oh, yes, how silly of me. You, of course, have to sign in blood.

Moira: …

H.B.I.C. of N.U.N.S.: Here, let me help you with that!” (Reachs forward, grabs the feather pen, and pokes it into the skin by Moira’s wrist, bringing blood to the surface.) There we go!

Moira: Ow! (Looks around her for an exit)

H.B.I.C. of N.U.N.S.: (reaches forward, placing the pen in Moira’s hand, squeezing her fingers, wiggling Moira’s hand about. Moira snatches away her hand, holds it to her chest and has a generally wounded expression on her face.)

Moira: (standing and backing away from H.B.I.C. of N.U.N.S. slowly.) I’m going to go now. Thanks about N.U.N.S. and all but, um, no thanks. I’ll just, uh, see myself out there alright?

H.B.I.C. of N.U.N.S.: (putting her head down on the desk.) mumbles, indiscipherable.

Moira: What?

H.B.I.C. of N.U.N.S.: (head still on desk) mumbles, indisciperable.

Moira: I still didn’t hear you.

H.B.I.C. of N.U.N.S.: (crying) You said you wanted to get jiggy with Jesus!

Moira: (taken aback) Yeah, but I meant, like, dancing!

H.B.I.C. of N.U.N.S.: (sniffles) Oh, no, honey! N.U.N.S. don’t dance!

Moira: Yeah, I kinda figured that out. Well, anyway, I better go. (moves towards the door)

H.B.I.C. of N.U.N.S.: (sighs theatrically). Oh, Lord, whatever are We going to do about these young women today? (pauses to look at Moira). What made you think N.U.N.S. like to dance?

Moira: (blushes) Well, I guess one day I thought, you know, how cool it would be if underneath those wool frocks th…

H.B.I.C. of N.U.N.S.: Habits.

Moira: (rolls her eyes) Underneath their habits were these glittery jumpsuits that, you know, they ripped off right in the middle of a service when, like, the spirit of God or something moved them and then you’d be all up there dancing and swaying and saying “Hey Jesus!” … and, I don’t know, I just thought it would be cool.

The End. MmmHmmm. Good-bye.

*Head Bitch In Charge

(recycled post from somewhere else... i'm feelin' spunky)

Moira at 01:50 AM :: Comments (2) :: « :: »
Comments:

LMAO. You have truly embraced the spirit of Seton Hill to a tee.

Posted by: Brian at September 19, 2004 08:03 PM

thank goddess someone thought it was funny!

hmm.. if i embraced the spirit of SHU, that's a little scary, isn't it? And how come more people aren't walking around laughing then? ;c)

Posted by: moira at September 21, 2004 10:55 AM
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