They holed up in the shack as best they could,

They holed up in the shack as best they could, and listened fearfully for the sound of claws on the door & roof. Father Mike blessed their sole weapon, a t-shirt gun - the damned

clawed at the shack's door. Bang! Bang! Father Mike said, "On the door baby?" Sister Loo said sarcastically, "Knock a little louder sugar." The beast again, Bang! Bang! Sister Loo

wanted her private time with Father Mike, dammit, and no one was going to deprive her of her well-deserved pleasure. Sister Loo threw the door open to confront the beast, crucifix

for protection in her purse but could only find empty wrappers. "Oh, poo." she simpered. Father Mike Cialis groaned and looked down on Sister Loo. "This is the last time that you

Have that dangerous rubbish in your oversize bag". Sister Loo had a nervous breakdown a few weeks later and was institutionlised at the St. Viator Hospital. She never could work

out what was dangerous about the "rubbish" in her oversized bag. At the hospital the doctors told her to imagine her lost bag was filled with the most wonderful items. It contained

blow, meth & smack. The ward's staff was stoned come morning rounds. A wasted intern told Mrs. Fig, in for routine gall bladder surgery, that she had a week to live. Another doctor

(who was also high) gave her mouth-to-mouth resuscitation "French style" to revive her when she fainted at the stoned intern's prognosis. She died of shock. An hallucinating nurse

recounted to the Medical Review Board, "His tongue was three times the size of Gene Simmons' and shaped like a dreidel." The equally high panel of doctors laughed hysterically.