The nunnery was only a block away from Jack’s Liquor Store. One day, in walked Sister Mary Katherine. “Hello, Jack. give me a pint o’ the brandy.” “Sister Mary Katherine,” exclaimed Jack, “I can no’ do that! I can’t sell alcohol to a nun!” “Oh, Jack,” she responded, “it’s for the Mother Superior.” Her voice dropped, “For her constipation, don’t you know?” So Jack sold her the brandy. That night, as Jack walked home, he passed the nunnery, and spied Sister Mary Katherine on the sidewalk, snookered out of her gourd, singing, dancing, whirling around, flapping her arms like a bird. Jack pushed through the gathering crowd. “Sister Mary Katherine! For shame! And you said it was for Mother Superior’s constipation!” Sister Mary Katherine didn’t miss a beat. “And so it is, me lad, so it is. When she sees me drunk-as-a-skunk, she’s gonna sh*t!”