Aderyn, the clueless newbie's adventures in Abbeyland:

My covert investigations into Abbey life continue unabated. I have
relocated to the library so that I can studiously research the use of
acronyms and in-jokes amongst sibleren. While in the process of
understanding the true shocking meaning of 'non-movieword' I happened
upon a stooped figure in an ill-fitting wimple.

A swirling, pungent puff of smoke curled from the lips of this strange
sister. It wasn't until a cheesy grin had formed upon her haggard
features that recognition hit me, I felt like I'd been smacked by the
largest of trouts. It was CSM (note to self: when I next meet that SOB
remember to ask for the antedote so that I may survive colonization).

You might be wondering why I didn't just blow out his brains with the
AK-47 I keep hidden in my cumbersome but discreet holster.
Unfortunately I came over all punkish and couldn't do it. Instead I
thwapped him silly with my punctured pool floatie until he offered an
explanation for his presence. He shakingly handed me an Abbey prayer
book into which he'd been scribbling, and I shall quote from it now:

Saint Scully you're my destiny,
A morbid, barren abductee.
Come to my arms sweet nemesis
I'll suck on breath mints 'fore we kiss.

Come on baby light my Morley
Come on baby light my Morley
I'm a black-lunged SOB but don't deplore me.

Saint Scully you're the one for me,
A short, thirtysomething who aint gettin' any.
Together, away from the mytharc
'Til colonization do us part.

Come on baby light my Morley
Come on baby light my Morley
I'm a black-lunged SOB but don't deplore me.

Who knew that CSM could emote so eloquently? OK, so he'd shamelessly
ripped-off 'light my fire' by The Doors, but the sweet sincerity of it
all melted my usually glacial heart.