The Lord Works in Mysterious Ways
Greenville, Rhode Island is home to the company that practically has a monopoly on all Catholic Communion Wafers: Cavanagh Altar Bread. One day, two nuns were making bulk batches of these flimsy crackers. Their names were Poppy and Clove, respectively. Poppy was known for being a klutz but Clove usually let it slide, because Poppy knew how to have fun. Unfortunately, Poppy had wanted to do the cinnamon challenge, but the whole contents of the giant cinnamon container fell into the flour.
“Oh my,” said Poppy.
“Oh my,” said Clove.
“Oh my, oh me.” said God from the heavens, unable to be heard from either nun below.
Clove pressed her pointer finger to her lips and schemed up a way for both of them to get out of there before the next Sunday Mass. Rhode Island wasn’t going to get any bigger, after all.
By the time anyone would suspect the source of the spicy mishap, they’d be long gone. What neither of them knew was that the magnitude of their accident was going to be on a national scale.
Six days later, people were over enthusiastic upon receiving the Eucharist.
“The last time I felt this kind of raw power, it was from these special supplements I got over the counter at the bodega,” an NYC fuckboi muttered under his breath. “Talk about the body of Christ, He’s really powerful.”
An investigative reporter overheard his muttering and it aroused her suspicions about what had been happening in churches all around America for the past month. Eyeing the wafers, she noticed that they resembled bootleg Cinnamon Toast Crunch cereal. Was it whole wheat, or was it something more sinister?
Suddenly, a figure erected from the altar. It was GloZell. She pointed at the basket of wafers and exclaimed that she knew cinnamon when she tasted it. The audience jolted upright from their kneeling positions and made a beeline to riot in the streets. Some went and contacted people they knew in Greenville so that they could invade Cavanagh Altar Bread.
By this point, Clove and Poppy had transferred to a bakery that prepared communion for Orthodox Churches.
“Oh! Look, Clove, the Orthodox Christians don’t eat flimsy crackers, they eat actual bread!” Poppy held a baked loaf up to the sun streaming through the window, her mouth watering. “Just a little bit of everything bagel seasoning, and it’ll be perfect.”
“Uh-uh, that’s enough of adding spices where they’re not supposed to be,” Clove responded, putting the cork back onto the bottle of wine she had already drank half of as Poppy babbled. “Anyways,”
“Oh no, Clove!!!” Poppy gasped as Clove’s hand accidentally brushed against an open jug of cinnamon, whose contents fell right into a gargantuan mixer that was kneading dough for bread meant to be shipped all throughout the Northeast.
“Oh my,” said Poppy.
“Oh my,” said Clove. She was going to need to uncork that wine again.
“Oh my, oh me.” said God from the heavens.
Laura Ilioaei is a third-year english and communication studies major who was kicked off the dining hall staff for seasoning too much, You can reach them at email@example.com.