Brother Juice wanted to stop smoking, after 30 years of it, it was time to look after himself. And one day he noticed Brother Gallon, puffing away in the chantry, a strange, fleeting aroma, pleasant and light, wisped away across the vestry, and was gone.


Brother Gallon had seen the light, and wanted to spread the word, the word was vapour, steam, fog; but not smoke, there was no tar, no smoke, no carbon monoxide and Brother Gallon looked more righteous than ever before. Gone was the hacking phlegmy cough that had dogged him for years. Gone was the sickening smell of fusty stale smoke that had been something Brother Juice, along with Sister Assumpta and the giggling young novices in her charge had had to grow used to over the years.

Brother Juice, for the first time in his life felt jealous of the aging monk.

And there began Brother Juice’s work, a painstaking work to create the perfect ejuice, something that would be an alternative to inhaling burnt plant matter, but would give him even more pleasure.  Pleasure? Shame on Brother Juice. To Vespers!


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