Hyrum, a Mormon in Salina, Utah

Your parents have been pressuring you to go on a mission since the day you turned 18. You'd much rather go to college but without their support you don't know how you'll ever afford it. The truth is, you haven't believed for a long time, but your chances of getting a date in Salina, Utah his next to nil if a girl doesn't think you're planning on temple marriage.

And so you've been pretending to believe and counting the days until you were old enough to move to Salt Lake City with the rest of the heathens. But your parents won't hear it and have been handing you mission application papers every time you bring it up. It's enough to drive you to drink.

And now your mom caught you doing just that. You're lucky your dad is off on a hunting trip for a week. (You weren't invited since you hadn't turned in your mission papers yet.) Dad was not one to "spare the rod" but mom, a 7th grade English teacher, had her old standby punishment. That's how you found yourself in your room writing a 5000 word essay on the Word of Wisdom while your mom is in the kitchen pouring your secret vodka stash down the sink and then scraping of the label to make sure none of the neighbors see it in the trash.

You sigh and pull out the Triple Combination your weird Uncle Orson gave you for high school graduation. He had enthusiastically told you the antique was the first edition to publish The Book of Mormon, Doctrine & Covenants and Pearl of Great Price in a single volume. You had politely thanked him, wondering how much cash he hadwasted on it when he could have just given you that, and left it on your bookshelf until now.

But since you weren't getting dinner until you finished your essay, you turn to Section 89 of The Doctrine & Covenants and go to the verses on the evils of "strong drink". You drag your finger along to keep your place and the words disappear. Huh? That is so weird!

You smirk. Might as well replace it with something better. You don't believe, but the blasphemy makes your stomach tingle nervously as you write "A Word of Wisdom I give unto The Saints, that strong drink is given into you from The Lord as a blessing. Yeah, for I, The Lord, do know that The Saints do seriously need to chill out and thus have given the power of booze to loosen thy sphincters. Therefore I say unto you, drink up and think not for the morrow."

You giggle at your blasphemy. If mom sees what you've done, you'll end up writing a book, but wouldn't Utah be a different place had Joe Smith written this instead?

"Hyyyyyyruuuum!" Your mom calls out from downstairs. "Hyyyyyyruuuum, iss dindin tiiiime!"

She sounds odd...