The former nun celebrated her new-found "freedom" by burning a large "funeral pyre" into which she threw all the trappings of her life in the abbey - clothes, rosaries, crucifixes, the lot.
After the fire had gone out and she began cleaning up the ashes, she was amazed to discover that, despite the prolonged heat of the flames, her clothing was still intact.
Determined to eradicate the last vestiges of her vestments, she ran over them with a lawn mower -- to no effect. Then she fed them to a paper shredder, only to have the shredder jam. Finally she managed to dissolve them in a vat of acid.
A group of sterile monks in white robes were circling a large urn containing flowers, chanting, raising their hands, bowing to the urn, and performing some kind of ritual on one young member of the group.
In the old days on the plains, cow patties were in great demand, since
they made great fuel for the cold winter evenings. Tribes bartered and
traded this form of manure.
One day some new faces showed up and
identified themselves as the Grood. The Grood must have been from the
East coast, because they were not hip to the ways of the plains, as the
locals found out one day.
A couple of women were gathering fuel when one
of the new guys showed up, placed some coins on the ground, gathered up
a sackful of manure, loaded it on his horse and rode away.
be one of the new guys,” said one of the women.
“How do you know?” asked the other.
“Easy, she replied,”Everyone knows that only the Grood buy dung.”