I pointed at the nun. “Is she really a nun?”
The couch let out another fart sound. The nun wrote something on a napkin.
“Interesting,” she said. “Reaction: flinch, but didn’t stand up. Thumbs up or thumbs down, Sister?”
I sat. The cushion immediately let out a long, wet fart sound. The woman in the bathrobe made a checkmark on her clipboard.
The subject line in the email was so vague it felt like a trap: “Unique Opportunity – Immediate Start – Discretion Required.”
She pulled her wimple aside to reveal a Bluetooth earpiece. “I’m a life coach. The habit is for ‘thematic consistency.’”
The nun cackled. “Oh, honey. We wish it was that simple. Just sit.”