And after all that hard work, all she said

And after all that hard work, all she said was "Bravo, and now go mow the lawn, we will have guests tonight." Guests. The last time we had guests was in 1979, and all that happened

we bought a tin of cheesy popcorn. Maybe it was the widow's tower or the sharpened spikes that made neighbors leery of our Victorian home. I fed our plants and opened the door. Hi!

"Hello. I'm Dan Jones & this is my wife Janice. Have you ever thought about saving yourself from the eternal fire?." I invited in the Jehovah Witnesses. My plants needed fertilizer

. But before any hate crime could ensue the house caught fire and we all burned to death. The funny thing was, when I came to on the other side, they weren't there. I asked about

my relatives, but they had all gone to another afterlife. I looked around and all I saw where what looked like dead terrorists. I wish I'd lost my virginity before I died.

But because I told one lie in highschool, I was never able to lose my virginity. I don't know why I said it. I guess to seem like a big shot. Is that really so bad. Is that

a good reason for permanent virginhood? "What was the lie honey?" Chantelle asked in an understanding manner. I propped myself up against the bar."I told them I didn't have a

hymen." Chantelle nodded, but I saw clouds of doubt in her eyes. I certainly appeared virginal enough, what with my wimple pinned securely on my head. What no one understood was

my secret need to dress like the Flying Nun. I can't explain it myself. Ever since that fated night that I saw Sally Field take flight, I longed to wear a wimple. Virginity was

unattainable again (dammit, dammit, dammit), but the gravity of that problem was lifted as I discovered that dressing like Superman couldn't make you fly, & neither the Flying Nun.