Late one night
As I sat reading
I thought I heard
The sound of feeding.

Through the Abbey door
I crept,
Barely watching
Where I stepped.

A crash, a bang,
A shout, a yell-
I slipped on something,
Then I fell.

I landed on
A pile of wimples--
Nuns with Pitch-tacs,
From wimple to dimples.

In the closets,
On the floor-
Nuns aplenty,
Nuns galore!

Prancing nuns,
Nuns with guns,
Hallucinating-Camouflaged,
Tracking-Demons-In-New-Jersey nuns.

Nuns in tutus,
Nuns in kilts,
Nuns on skateboards,
Nuns on stilts.

Nuns from Denver,
Nuns from France,
Nuns in just
Their underpants.

She came from Maui,
The Trout Nun Queen-
The Demurest Nun
I've ever seen.

More nuns arrive
By boat, by plane.
A bus pulls up
And then a train.

A band strikes up.
A boa'd nun sings.
Then, at ten
The doorbell rings.

Someone yells:
"More Pitch-Tacs are here!"
And all the nuns
Begin to cheer.

Flying Pitch-Tacs
Fill the air.
One goes SPLAT!
Against my chair.

The merry all nuns
Eat their fill.
I get nothing,
Just the bill.

"This isn't happening!"
I scream and shout
"It's all an illusion,
I have no doubt!"

"We're in New Jersey!,"
The nuns all cry.
"Paula's got horns,
"that blink at night."

"Sure, fine, whatever!,"
I tell them all.
"But scrub the Arby sauce--
Off the wall."

I give them brooms,
A pail, a mop.
"Now sweep and scrub
'Til I the drugs wear off."

The nuns all work
And when they're done,
Upstairs they stagger
One by One.

They iron their wimples
And blend their Ritas,
Then wash their floaties
And drink Tequilas.

They say their prayers
And return to bed
I plump my pillow,
Plop my head.

I close my eyes
And try to sleep.
Before too long
I'm dreaming deep-

Of nuns and nuns
And nuns some more-
Of nuns aplenty,
Nuns galore!

Author: Scooby

| Back to Filks |