Sister Mary Olga:
“Just wait one minute while I have a deliciously holy snort of bourbon and light up a Marlboro. Oh? What's that?... I'm on the radio!... Goodness Gravy! Forgive me, my dears. This is Sister
Mary Olga Fortitude coming to you. Now! I've heard that some of you are interested in hearing about my misadventures. That's all well and good as long as you don't spread any malicious gossip. After all, there's nothing very holy about that!
Suffice it to say that life is happening in the sleepy little hamlet of
Bucksnort, Wisconsin in just the same manner as everywhere else. It's just that most of you tend to keep your untidy little secrets to yourself. Ahem! Excuse me for just a moment while I have another refreshing drink of what I prefer to call heavenly spirits. Ah! That's much better!
Well! Thanks to a busybody named
Priscilla Bunhead, nobody's business in the
Snortlands of Wisconsin remains their own for very long.
Priscilla is the president of an organization called
BUN. That stands for
Bunheads Unite Now. Why, she's recruited the most vulnerable female souls of Bucksnort who prefer to have someone else do their thinking for them. Just like
Priscilla, her fellow bunheads all wear their hair in little buns at the back of their heads. This only serves to squeeze their little brains so tightly that they couldn't think for themselves even if they wanted to.”
(Suddenly there is a shrill voice in the background.)
Priscilla Bunhead:
“Just wait one damn moment, you sanctimonious sister! We
bunheads happen to practice human decency, contrary to the likes of you and that former whore of your reverend mother, not to mention the perverts on
Dinkledorf Drive. How would you like to live next to a half-Negro bastard like Jules Jesslike Pappas and his fat floozy,
Lula Mae Bunsaplenty, while I have a couple of lesbos living on the other side of my unhappy home?
To make matters even worse, I think there's a homo or two on the block! Then there's that 105 year-old peeping Tom,
Poopsy Dinkledorf, who lives across the street! The only comfort I have about this revolting situation is that I know they're all going straight to hell when they die. In the meantime, I'll get my satisfaction by doing everything in my power to make their lives as miserable as possible! Maybe that will convince them to get the hell out of
Bucksnort!”
Sister Mary Olga:
“Ahem! (followed by a whisper to the audience) - Hang on folks while I just have another little snort to calm my nerves. - It seems to me that you could benefit from one of my classes in Advanced Holiness. After all, as the good book says, 'Judge not, lest ye be judged.'”
Priscilla Bunhead:
“I'll be damned if I'll ever set my foot on the grounds of a Catholic convent! I happen to be a good Baptist so don't think that you're going to preach to me! After all, since you're always siding with the perverts, you'll also be going straight to hell. I just hope the readers of your books don't get suckered in by your so-called lessons in holiness. As the saying goes, 'Beware of wolves in sheep's clothing!'”
Sister Mary Olga:
“Now, now, my dear! Just be careful when you cast a judgment. After all, we're all only looking into a mirror at ourselves whenever we do that.”
Priscilla Bunhead:
“Poppycock,
Mary Olga! I'm just here to let your listeners know that, if they read your books, they'll probably go straight to hell too. Quite frankly, I don't give a damn! They'll only have themselves to blame. At least I've done them the favor of warning them.”
Sister Mary Olga:
“Ahem! I'm sure you think you're doing them a kindness. Perhaps it would be better if you let them judge that for themselves. After all, all of God's children deserve a chance to have a good laugh and, (as
Sister Mary Olga lets go of a belly laugh) God forgive me, you've just done that for me. Bless you, my dear.”
Priscilla Bunhead:
“You'd better wake up and smell the coffee before it's too late! As for me, I'm getting the hell out of here because your homo cowboy chef is coming this way with a tray of cookies. If you know what's good for you, I wouldn't eat one of those. After all, you never know where his hands might have been!” (sound of running footsteps)
Sister Mary Olga:
“Sigh! Hi
Randy!”
Randy Cowboy:
“Hey, Sister, who was that?”
Sister Mary Olga:
“Honey, you don't want to know! When I used to believe in them, I might have called her a demon. Instead I realize she's just a scared little girl. Now! Let's change to a gayer note and let me have one of those cookies! They look scrumptious!”
Author Davis Auhourd'hui 
