You're at your interview with the monastery and it seems to be going well. You mention how excited you are to join an order of obsessive-compulsive detectives like the Monk you've seen on TV. It's a joke, but they don't call you back. Oh, well. On to the next one.

While out buying cleaning supplies and a loaf of bread, you spot a magazine announcing the release of a new album by your favorite childhood band. Suddenly, you can't stop thinking about that song you were always singing. Now you can't get it out of your head. You start saying The Hail Mary just to get it out of there.

After suggesting your abbey create a presence on the internet, you're put in charge of the social networking. You head down to the library to access their service. Once there, you learn about Wikipedia. Six hours later, you realize it's closing time and you've forgotten why you went there in the first place.

Your good deeds have reached some very powerful ears, and now every major talk show wants you on their set. It seems that your crazy notions about kindness and love are really catching on. Even movie stars are awed by your message, and suddenly all the tabloids are filled with stories about celebs being good to each other. Everyone stops buying them.

You've gone to meet your maker. Due to your contributions (as well as two miracles claimed in your name) you were immediately canonized by the church and people pray to you all the time. Totally worth that lifetime-of-service thing.