Then it was snack time, right in the middle of mass. Right out of nowhere, the priest would look down and say, 'Let's have some yum yums!' You would get in line - you would jump in the line - and you would go up and get the crouton O'Christ.
Is there anything more useless than a crouton? I sometimes wake up in the small hours with a start and realise that what's roused me is an overpowering urge to visit violence on its originator.