The Badass Nuns: Sister Fredonia and Sister Missouri, #1

By Jade Ulatoski

The Badass Nuns got kicked out of the monastery by the Mother Superior for many reasons--the quest to change their calling to help the dearly departed meet Jesus, the pink hair, the fishnet stockings, the stiletto heels and their beloved special order pink Harleys. They love all people and the nuns view of life is not quite like those of other people. They adore Father Jack, the .357 Magnum whiskey carrying priest who really isn't, well, Father Jack. Sometimes you might find one of the nuns rocking the jail and you just might discover their quest to find out who put the dead people in the garden. First in series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jade Ulatoski
• Release date: Feb 21, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224560653

Book preview

This book is dedicated to the love of my life—Chad.

It is also dedicated to my beloved mother and to my precious sister.

And for the esteemed Randal J. and Kenneth– thank you both!

A note from the author—there is so much sadness and sorrow in the world and Lord knows, we all need to laugh!  This book is the first in the series about two very special nuns.  I do a lot of work to make sick people laugh so I would encourage you to purchase a copy of this book and give it to someone who is sick, whether it’s from the God-awful disease of cancer, chemotherapy, radiation, etc., dialysis or some other debilitating disease. I have given copies of my books to sick people, and it is amazing how it transforms their lives and takes them away from their troubles.

Enjoy the nuns!  You’re in for a ride!

JADE ULATOSKI

SHIT FLOWS DOWNHILL

FIRST THINGS FIRST—SHIT flows downhill and when it does, it becomes very difficult, if not almost impossible to push shit back uphill.

The nuns know this very well.

How so?

They are on the shit list of the monastery and as fast as news sometimes travels, it’s a wonder they aren’t already on the wrong side of the shit list with the Pope.

Time will tell.

PISSING OFF THE MOTHER SUPERIOR

Everything starts somewhere and with the nuns, nothing should catch them by surprise (or anyone for that matter!)

Sister Fredonia and Sister Missouri heard the Mother Superior, her scathing words like burning coals of fire on their foreheads, as if by some act of God, they would be punished by Almighty God for being, well, Sister Fredonia and Sister Missouri.

It went like this:

Mother Superior said rather unkindly, You are blaspheming our Lord! You cannot and you will not be a part of this monastery if you insist on living like you both do. Why, you are harlots, the both of you!

They feared she might faint any minute, but their response was nothing less than any good Catholic would expect. Sister Fredonia spoke on their behalf:

Mother Superior, with all due respect, we are not harlots. We love the Lord Jesus, we just believe we are called to our heavenly duties in a different manner. I promise you, we are The Badass Nuns.

"Harlots! Any nun that would dare dress in fishnet stockings, pink stiletto heels, put pink in their hair and buy special ordered damn pink Harley’s and then decide to become embalmers. Blasphemy!"

Well how in hell do you think you are leaving this good earth when you go, it was Sister Missouri.

Mother turned a little gray around the gills, or at least her collar. What?

"I said how in hell do you think you are leaving this good earth? Someone has to dress you right up to meet Jesus because let me tell you, dying ain’t pretty."

Mother fainted.

Damn, said Sister Fredonia, if it isn’t one thing it’s another. Instead of using smelling salts she ran and got a flask of Father Jack’s whiskey and put it under Mother’s nose. Whether it was a miraculous touch or simply the smell of whiskey, whichever, it worked.

You must leave, both of you, now, she said when she came to her version of her senses.

I guess this means we are high on the shit list with the monastery and headed for an even higher shit list with the pope, muttered Sister Missouri as they left Mother’s office and headed to get their already packed bags to toss onto their Harley’s.

This, of course, is how the story begins—the story of The Badass Nuns who have pissed off the Mother Superior, the monastery and eventually the Pope but nevertheless are happiest in their fishnet stockings, their pink stiletto heels, with pink in their hair, long pink fingernails and riding their special ordered Pink Harley’s.

And this, too, is how The Badass Nuns set about to change Divine—and the world at large.

THE BEGINNING

Sister Fredonia and Sister Missouri felt the call three years ago to leave the monastery so they could engage in, well, more heavenly pursuits.  They felt lead to become the first lady embalmers in Divine, and the first nuns to approach life, and Jesus, in a radically different way. They saw the saints in the pews dwindling and they decided someone had to prepare the dearly departed to meet The Master.

It might as well be them. It should also be noted that although they were thrown out of the monastery, they still clung steadfastly to their heavenly, sacred vows.

No matter how hard they tried, it was inevitable that they had pissed off the Mother Superior in their quest to serve Jesus as the town’s embalmers in their fishnet stockings, pink stiletto heels, pink hair, riding through town on their beloved pink Harley’s.

Both of the sisters felt it far more appropriate to dress like all of the regular folks as they affectionately referred to the townspeople and they were absolutely in love with their chosen attires. It was quite a departure from the dreary nun’s habits and boxer shorts that few people knew nuns wore as their underwear. They were happy in their beloved pink, the pink stiletto heels, pink tee-shirts, pink leggings and that splash of pink in their hair. No one in Divine could miss them when they arrived to fetch the dearly departed. How could they? And oh yes, the hearse?  Bold ass pink!

The name of their funeral parlor was an eye catcher, too. The Badass Nuns Funeral Parlor.

Father Jack sided with them but of course, he would. He wasn’t exactly your typical priest, either.  He really wasn’t Father Jack and rumor always had it that he was hiding behind the cloth because he was running from the law and an old drug deal.  One really never knew. Of course, his weapons of choice were his Holy Water, his .357 Magnum, a fifth of Vodka and his rosary beads. He slept