So maybe I missed something, but I’m pretty sure that one genre the Saints haven’t touched is black comedy. I’m not much of a narrative writer, though, so think of the following as sitting on little scraps of paper on a rickety table in my front yard with a hand-lettered cardboard sign next to them reading ‘Free to a Good Home.’
(1) Sister Jones hates her new calling as First Counselor in the ward Relief Society presidency. She wants out. But, being the sweet spirit that she is, she won’t ask to be released. Instead, she’s going to commit every act of flaccidity, vapidity, turgidity, stupitidy, cupidity, et al., for which she can summon plausible deniability in the hopes that the RS President will release her.
(2) Sister Heath is your standard-issue Molly Mormon with one difference: her children keep dying. Tragically. For a variety of reasons. Before they turn eight. It takes an intrepid visiting teacher to pick up on the clues that lead to unraveling Sister Heath’s warped theology: she thinks she is guaranteeing her kids a spot in the CK by offing them before they are accountable.
(3) Ward Primary President Sister West has had it with irreverent, wiggling children. One night, in the quiet of the wee hours, she makes a bargain with a mysterious stranger that results in the children behaving perfectly. You know, like, a Faustian bargain.
(4) Bishop Brown figures that the one place in the ward where Sister Ellmsworth, the ward ‘intellectual,’ can’t do any damage is in the nursery. Boy, was he wrong. Imagine the reaction when prim Sister Young walks by the nursery door to hear a high-pitched, engaging voice saying, “Repeat after me, children: PAHL-ee-an-dree. That’s good. Let’s try it one more time in your big, big voices: PAHL-ee-an-dree.”