Freewrite weekend: The only way John could pass the exam was by cheating

The only way John could pass the exam was by cheating; he had exhausted all other avenues. After studying Calvinist metaphysics day and night for weeks, he still could not understand it. Why did they insist on building grain silos when there was a grain shortage? Christ, he thought, if I don't understand this, how am I going to get in to theology school? All John's friends had already passed the exam last year, and he was behind. He came from a long line of theologists: his father, Mark, was a theologist; his mother, Sarah, was an amateur theologist, and although she wasn't allowed in the vestry proper, John knew that all of his father's good theories really came from his mother. Even going back further, he could trace his lineage from John to Mark to some other people, all the way back to Aaron with his rod.

"Golly, I'm really in a pickle", thought John. He started daydreaming about what it would be like to give up theology altogether. Maybe he could get a normal job, as a checkout person at the local Fencemart.

"There you go, making up lies again." That is what they told me. They, in this case, being John's inner monologue. He knew he could never get a normal job, and he could never live a normal life. His father had prepared him for martyrdom since birth, and these sort of ingrained anxieties and mental instabilities don't iron out. He was cotton, not rayon.

The bell rang. He walked to the exam cubicle and sat down. The paper was thin, and there were many pages. A good thick sheaf. They'd make good spliff paper, he thought. He started reading. Transubstantiation. The will of man asserts dominion over God's will. What do you do with the used wine after it's gone bad? You pour it down the sink. That's at least one he knew. The rest was fucked. He was sweating, and his cassock was soaking wet.

He had to perspire. No, that wasn't right. He had to persevere. He kept reading. There, on the last page. Bonus question, for full marks. What is the worst sin of them all? He had to think about that one. Was it a trick question? He could think of a lot of bad sins, but they were all ones committed by the Church itself. What is the worst? Come on, man. If you can just think of this one worst sin, he could his masters of divinity and get out of here. He remembered an episode of The Friends, a television show about a group of friends who live in New York City, in a secret hideout. One of the ladies on the show was a real bad-ass, always doing naughty things. What did she do last week? There was something. The thing she did to the brakes of the Honda. Wow. It wasn't just an ordinary Honda either, because it was a clown car carrying thirty people. And she smeared the brakes in vegemite, a kind of sick lubricant for the throat. That was pretty bad. It would have to do.

This is a fifteen-minute freewrite, based on the amazing prompts by @mariannewest. https://steemit.com/freewrite/@mariannewest/weekend-freewrite-jan-13-2018-part-1-the-first-sentence

The blossoming of Aaron's rod