“Go on, Sister, tell me what happened,” says Mother Superior.

.

.

“Well, I was playing golf last week, and must say without pride that I was having one of the best rounds of my life. After 16 holes, Mother, I was 3 under par and playing marvelously. However, on the 17th tee, a very long and treacherous par 5, the number one handicap hole on the course, I teed off and the shot was, at first, blessed. Its trajectory was flawless, travelling upwards into the heavens, and then the ball struck a telephone wire strung across the fairway.”

“Is that when you used foul language, Sister?”

“No, Mother, not yet. The ball fell straight down, but just before it landed in the fairway, a squirrel dashed from the rough and snatched the ball in mid-air. Upon landing, it looked at me briefly and began to ran perpendicularly across the fairway, heading towards the adjacent hole.”

“That is when you used the Lord’s name in vain?” asks Mother Superior.

“No Mother, I hadn’t sinned yet. As the squirrel ran with the ball, an eagle miraculously swept down from the heavens and grabbed the squirrel, taking flight with it down the fairway towards the green,” continued the repentant nun.

“This then, is when you cursed?”

“Still not yet, Mother. As the eagle flew, the squirrel let go of the ball, which landed on some rocks bordering the green. The ball bounced very high in the air, and landed on the green. It rolled approximately six feet from the pin, where it came to rest.”

Mother Superior looks sternly at the confessing nun and says, “You missed the fucking putt, didn’t you.”