I never should have fooled around with an inebriated nun. At least not one with a gun. I thought we were having fun running nekkid in the sun. And I was sure she was out of bullets. But she still had one.

Nun.
Gun.
Inebriation.
Bullets.

These are not words that work well together.
And neither does nekkid.

Nun nun nun nun...(a bunch of times)

She told me she was a Buddhist, but I thought she said a nudist. So I started to disrobe, and she grabbed me by the earlobe. I thought that she'd be sore, but then her habit hit the floor. And as I stood there in the buff then I began to see the score.

We sipped a little whiskey, and she started feeling frisky. She asked for my revolver, but I knew that could be risky. She would not pull the trigger, yes she promised, yes she swore. And so I let her hold it, then she said "Let's go outdoors!"

As we were running bare she shot me in the hair. I try to dodge the bullet but I never had a prayer. And just as I had feared, I looked like I'd been sheared. And then, without a word, Mother Superior appeared.

Whiskey.
Frisky.
Nudist.
Buddhist. 

These are not words that work well together. 

(And the word revolver didn't help much, either.)

I never should have fooled around with an inebriated nun.
At least not that one. I thought we were having fun running nekkid In the sun. But it all fell apart when her habit started coming undone.

This is story has a moral: Never fool around with inebriated nuns. Particularly ones wielding weapons. Now my job here is done, so I guess I'll run along. But I hope you've learned your lesson and that you will heed this song.

Nun.
Gun.
Inebriation.
Bullets.

Whiskey.
Frisky.
Nudist.
Buddhist. 

Hell.
Impale.
Nekkid.
Porcupine.

These are not words that work well together.(A bunch more nun-nu-nu-nu-nuns)