Nothing and no one here is sacred, safe, or sane.

Which is weird, since this is a Nunnery. Of course, I could understand such a place not being safe or sane, you know, with all the active religious trauma going on. Of any place, like, ever, shouldn't the home of nuns be the most sacred place???

So anyway, there I was, a humble pizza boy, at the front door of Saint Mary's of Matriarch Catholic Society. Or as my buddies always said "The Catholic School for your Aspiring Leabian". Half of us had went there at some point. And all of us ended up with an appreciation for the finer gender.

Not me though. Well, no to the Catholic School trauma. Yes to my girlfriend, who was at our apartment waiting for me to come back from this DoorDash so we could watch Blade.

I stared up at the looming stature of Mother Mary. She wept, on her kness, hands pressed in front of her in a silent prayer for her dead son. Or maybe she wept for the noises that leak out from the old oak door behind her. They were quite ... Different.

I could feel the grease from the pile of pizza boxes in my hand seep through the carry bag but I didn't care. All I had to do was open the door, hand them their food, and get my cash tip.

So I knocked. And the, very-much-orgy sounding noises died away. I guess I interrupted the party. Footsteps approached the door, followed by shuffling and hushed whispers. Maybe I should've said something before knocking.

"Pizza delivery."

Nope. That only made the whispers grow louder. I shifted the pizzas from one hand to another in an attempt to wipe the grease from my hands onto my riding suit. If they didn't answer the door soon I was gonna keep the pizzas and report them to Door Dash.

But, much to my surprise, the door creaked open and an alabaster arm reached out for the food.

"Hey, you still need to pay for this."

"Oh."

"Ten fifty."

I took a half step to the side to get a better look at the customer. I fought the urge to roll my eyes. She wasn't a nun, or at least she wasn't in nun clothes. A habit? Do nuns wear habits?

It was just a college girl somewhere around her twenties. Red paint splattered across her white dress in ways I knew had ruined the fabric. She winked at me.

"So how can I pay you?"

"With money?"

"No other way?" She raised an eyebrow at me.

"I mean I also do Cash App but if we're doing that then I'd rather Venmo."

"Oh."

She sighed and tossed her blonde hair over ber shoulder and stuffed a hand down the front of her dress. Considering she was skinny as a stick, I wasn't sure how she was holding anything down there but I wasn't going to judge. Eventually she pulled out a crumpled twenty and snapped it at me.

"If I pay you extra, will you... Come inside and have fun with us?"

"No?"

"What about triple?"

I sighed. Honestly I felt bad for them. They really think they stood a chance against Sam.

"No thanks I'm not an orgy kinda gal."

Gasps shot through the air, and soon multiple mini dress clad girls crowded the door way. The lead blonde eyed me up and down.

"You're a girl!?"

"Uh... Yeah??

" We ordered a pizza deliver BOY."

"The bike suit does tend to flatten me out."

The blonde huffed, and other background girls also shook their heads. I shrugged.

"Sooo about the money?"

The girl shoved a wad of cash into my chest and snatched the pizza.

At least I got paid.