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God only answers the phones the satellites have forgotten. The nun, suffering from mysterious stomach pains and untrusting of her private practitioner, decided she could stand the pain no longer and proceeded to the thrift store to make a purchase, as her and her sisters had done since the early '90s.

As she walked back to the abbey, the nun made the call using the code between the words in Galatians 6:11, only to be put on hold. As she listened to the harp in the background, her stomach took a turn for the worse, and she buckled over in pain on the sidewalk, cursing at the phone loudly for leaving her alone with the seemingly eternal holy Muzak in a time of dire need.

After minutes of tearful almost patience, a voice came onto the other line, though it clearly was not God, probably only an intern working for wings. The nun screamed into the phone that her stomach was falling apart on the inside, and was once again put on hold, though only for moments this time.

-- Sister Sally Fielden?

-- Yes. Please, it feels like I'm dying inside.

-- Apparently you were supposed to bring on the Second Coming, but it says on here you're not due for eight months.

-- You mean I'm pregnant?

-- Yes ma'am.

-- Immaculate Conception?

-- Yes ma'am.

-- And nobody came down here to tell me?

-- No ma'am, we've decided to wait until the second trimester this time around, in case you were to get cold feet.

-- Well what's going on now? This is not morning sickness. Please! Do something!

-- You see, there was a meeting last night, and God changed his mind about the timing of all this, it's apparently too soon, and he's curious about the future of home entertainment; we're terribly sorry not to have warned you ahead of time. …

-- I'm having a miscarriage?

-- Yes ma'am, but we'll take care of it.

-- When?

-- Just a moment. …

The nun felt a fuzzy pink cloud envelop her from the inside and felt her stomach tense one last time and then relax. She quickly stood up, threw the phone to the sidewalk along with her habit and decided she ought to reconsider the virtues of Western medicine.

Perhaps hearing her thoughts, the phone decided she hadn't thrown it hard enough and began to ring again. The nun gave faith one more millimeter and answered the phone. An automated voice awaited her on the other end, "Congratulations, you've just won a free pass to the side of our Lord and Savior for all eternity and a free patron saint candle in your honor."

That wasn't fair, but she wasn't about to say no. How could she? The message was automated.



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