THE
YOCCOT HOTS
A Fictional Saga of Hanky Panky
Mostly in Iambics
By
Izzy Ess of Silliness
At morning prayers, the chapel was
not quite half full of nuns and monks who did reside there in The Fortieth Fowl
Monastery and Devine Four Sisters Convent, altogether known as Yonkers Corner
Cloisters of the Holy Order of the Sepulchre, or YOCCOT HOTS, for short. Those present prayed for guidance as the
youngest Sister, Sister Mary Mental, eh? appeared to be somnambulating as she
made her way down centre aisle to Father Flustered Fen, He welcomed her upon the altar platform with
his open hands upon her breasts to cover her from shame as she was so completely
naked. Mother Most Superior rushed to
the naked sister’s aid by lifting high her habit to attempt to cover up the
sinning going on, that Monday morning.
Though Mother’s bloomers were exposed, the Sister’s breasts and derriere
were no longer visible. Sister Martha
Maple slipped her bloomers off so surreptitiously woke up her Sister, Sister
Mary Mental, and stepped her into bloomers that were big and loose enough to
cover up her tiny bush. Startled harshly
from her sleepy walk, the Sister, Sister Mary Mental screamed primordially and
she ran past our Father, Father Flustered Fen to get her to the exit at the
Altar and escape back to her cloistered room.
She locked her door but was surprised to find a naked monk in her own
bed, just snoring happily. She then
remembered that the naked monk was her own brother who had slipped into her
room at midnight and engaged her in some hanky panky. Terrorized, she screamed and woke up Brother
Manuel Mental who shot out of bed and ran for his own room. His nakedness aroused the Mother of them All
and she did tackle Brother Manny Mental to engage him in some hanky panky, in
the hall of Holy Holies underneath the photograph of Old Saint Paul’s Cathedral
in the Vatican. Brother Manny felt he
had no choice and laid the Mother of
them All in Royal Fashion. Upon
completion of the hanky panky, Brother Manny and the Mother of them All, arose
and ran for cover in the bedrooms of the second floor. Whispers at the Vespers, later on, were not
re-acted on and actually in the weeks that followed, all the stories had but
faded from the memories of everyone except the principals of hanky panky,
Sister Mental, Brother Mental and the Mother of them all.
The Principals decided to approach
each other and discuss the sexy things that they had secretly sequestered in a
rather hum-drum life around the Cloisters of the YOCCOT HOTS. If truth be told, the principals were HOT TO
TROT, but were aware of the dire consequences if the under-sanctimonious bold
trio were exposed. They made a plan to
take odd jobs which were often shunned by everyone. They started volunteering for the cleaning of
the bathrooms and the toilets, showers and bidets. Often they were left alone to do their duties
and found ample opportunities to do their happy hanky panky. Sister Mental liked to play with her own self
before her Brother Mental found her in a booth, completely naked. Then he called the Mother of them All to help
him satisfy his sister. Mother of them
all was only glad to help him, and of course, herself, to nice messages of her
private parts. Sister Mental also liked
to use a rubber hose to please herself and also Brother Mental with her cleaver
ministrations. The Mother of them All
would take the siblings on her breasts and suckle them. She liked to grab them tightly and to hold
their heads on top of her both nipples.
Lust and greed and gluttony were
ever present with the Siblings Mental. Incest,
fornication and some homosexuality abounded.
Sister Mental was hard-struck by lightning but recovered quickly, and
returned to hanky panky with alacrity.
Our Brother Mental was besieged by fleas which occupied his armpits and
required some pesticide which took off all his axillary hair, but finally, he
came back to hanky panky, too. The
Mother of them All was flooded out of her apartment chambers by a sudden
bursting of the drainage pipes. She swam
so swiftly she created a great whirly pool and almost lost her buoyancy and
almost was sucked down into the sewers of the underground, but she recovered just
enough to swim to her front door and out into the hall. She took her wet clothes off in front of
everyone and dried herself with Mental’s underwear which they supplied
immediately with the risk of showing everyone their genitals. The Mother of them All dried off and had to
run and get a new dry habit from the laundry room. The show was over for the monks and nuns and
they receded to their rooms for meditation and recovery from all the nakedness
that they had seen. Some were
overstimulated and requested help from Sister and her Brother, Mental, and
engaged in briefly doing hanky panky.
Father Flustered Fen was one of those and got it on with Mother of them
All for several days before he asked forgiveness from his Saviour and went back
to ogling little boys and girls.
As time, went on the hanky panky
was contagious and it spread like flu amongst the nuns and monks who noticed
that the cloisters was in sad need of repairs.
A plan was made by Mother of them All and checked with Father Flustered
Fen. The word went out to all
parishioners that their confessions would be monitored by Jesus and given extra
credence in the Holy Roman See for bonuses to get to Heaven expeditiously. He said that Mother of them All would be with
them inside the booth, while they confessed, to give some special ministrations
to experience the Holy Ghost. Of course,
between herself and Father Fen, they felt the people up with warm, exciting
hands which knew which private parts to stimulate for extra stimulation while
confessions were so fervently presented to the tape recorder blessed with icons
of the Roman Catholics from Rome. The
coffers of the Cloisters rose logrhythmically to outstanding totals. The money was sequestered for the local folks
and not sent in to Rome, except for paltry sums. Interior Designers from the village were
called in and given bonuses to make the Cloisters over in bright colours and
mosaics, fountains and new shiny walnut pews for everyone. This brought in more parishioners to “Ooh”
and “Aah.” They made so many great
confessions with the Father Fen and Mother of them All sweet fondlings that the
coffers overflowed with gold and frankincense and myrrh.
The Tidings that a special aura
could be had in these old renovated Cloisters were just spreading everywhere,
by word of mouth. Folks were now
attending services and paying lots of cash to come to see the Miracle of YOCCOT
HOTS. The Pope in Rome was notified and
sent some Cardinals to see if they should advertise the Miracle of YOCCOT HOTS. The cardinals, the mourning doves and
starlings flocked to them and Cardinals partook in special hot confessions led
by Father Flustered Fen and Mother of them All.
Impressed immensely by the thrill of it, the Cardinals reported back to
Rome that they should advertise the MIRACLE OF YOCCOT HOTS as genuine. The nuns and sisters of the Cloisters were
enjoying Heaven here on Earth with widespread Catholic Hanky Panky glorified by
Rome, itself.
And what of Sister and her Brother,
Mental. Were they so satisfied by all
the hoopla? Why, of course! They charged exorbitant confession fees for
special sessions with the wealthy patrons, while insisting that the rich would
enter Heaven with alacrity and special honours.
They preached that they could enter just as easily as camels through the
Needle’s Eye. Their coffers overflowed
again and they could decorate their Icons with gold leaf and anoint them with
much myrrh and cover them with very aromatic frankincense.
The Holy Trinity was not so pleased
and caused a flood of great proportions to wipe out the Cloisters of the YOCCOT
HOTS. Much Fire and Brimstone burned all
night to kill the nuns and monks who’d participated in the hanky panky. Sister and her Brother Mental swam to Bethlehem,
New York, along with Mother of them All and Father Flustered Fen. They changed their clothes to all the newest
Paris fashions and they bought a huge old house in which to live their
lives. The house was decorated in Art
Deco and the gardens were magnificent, with statues of Saint Mary, Joseph and
Our Saviour, Jesus. Sister Mental and
the Mother of them All had many children who enjoyed an opulence of all that
Bethlehem could offer. No one in the
town could guess the source of gold that they possessed and flaunted. At the next election, Father Fen and Brother
Mental ran for Mayor and Governor and were successful. At the inaugurations, both the men were
thankful to the voters and could offer them some special ministrations if they
came around and paid the highest level fees for services. The Governor was slated to a candidate for
President and could have been the President, if he had not just died with
unexpected apoplexy. The grieving Hanky
Panky Team withdrew from politics and lived a happy life with all the children
that they had produced. They re-created
a huge Garden, Eden, and converted it to summer camps for boys and girls of
wealthy folks. They lived completely,
happily and quite fulfilled until they died of natural events. Sister Mental and her life-time friend, the
Mother of them All, lived into their nineties.
Brother Mental died in pain just after he was struck by runaway school
buses when he was just 69.
THE
DANCE OF HANKY PANKY
A Silliest of Silly Sonnettes
By a Sonneteer of Silliness
By
Izzy Ess of Inverness
Methinks
the Hanky Panky was a dance
That
wealthy people did in Paris, France;
Methinks
that Sister Mental was Une Sainte
Who
could have been so quiet and so quaint.
Our
Father Flustered Fen was wont to pen
Some
prose and poetry of note, but then
He
died of apoplexy in his clothes
Which
should include some fancy pantyhose.
The
Cloisters of the YOCCOT HOTS was not
So
Kosher as it should have been begot.
The
fiction that this story is, is all
That saves us all from letting water fall
Upon the flowers of the Eden camp
And all the wonders of Aladdin’s Lamp.
Some
Happy Birthdays to my Children, eh?
It
is that time of year, to say:
I
hope that my genetics aren’t as bad
As
here in Old Islamabad.
THE
END
© izzy sommers, md
Welland, Canada
September 1, 2013
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