THE POPE AND THE PAUPER
Once again we bumped into the same Wandering Monk, and he told us another story. Not that we asked him to.
One day the Pope was sitting in the Vatican, feeling bored. He'd taught everyone how to live, he'd apologized for all the church's misdeeds in the past, and he could not think of anything else to do. He wanted to live the life to the fullest, to roll in the morning dew, to fondle well-formed female buttocks, to make obscene phone calls, to use heavy drugs and explore the meaning of life.
Looking out of the window the Pope saw a pauper who was crossing the piazza. An idea suddenly crossed the Holy Father's weary mind. He invited the pauper inside and told him to take his clothes off. The poor guy was used to that kind of things, so he disrobed quickly. The Pope did the same, only it took him more time - he had more things on.
"I think we should agree on the fee first, Your Holiness," the pauper suggested, for he'd been burned before. Imagine his surprise when the Pope slipped into his rags and beckoned the pauper to put the papal vestment on. Before the lucky sod could say Eucharist, the Pope bolted out, jumped into a taxi and was gone.
A life full of adventures lay before him. Sex, drugs, rock'n'roll, soup kitchens… But soon he grew tired of it all. There was too much to do. Consider his typical daily routine:
9am: Breakfast at the Holy Virgin mission.
10am: Gang bang at Luigi's.
12pm: Lunch at the Holy Virgin.
1pm: Coke party at Francesca's.
4pm: Orgy at Claudia's.
7pm: Motörhead live show at the Coliseum.
10pm: Dope and s/m extravaganza at Decameron.
5am: Retiring to a bench in the park.
On top of that he was supposed to be raising funds by aggressive panhandling and picking pockets.
The Pope was not a young man and he could not endure this lifestyle for long. It was a full life, alright, but it was too much too late. He remembered his quiet life as the Holy Father, when there was hardly anything to do, with a warm fuzzy feeling. So he returned to the Vatican and ordered the acting Pope to switch back.
But the pauper-come-Pope wouldn't hear of it.
"I like it here," he said to the Pope. "I've never been happier before. And stop bugging me, or I'll unleash my cardinals on you."
The former Pope knew better than to risk that, so he quickly walked away, tears streaming down his cheeks. He would give anything to avoid seeing Francesca and Claudia again. He was so desperate that for a minute he even considered moving to Ireland and forming U2, but he dismissed the idea as utterly distasteful.
Little did he know that the Vatican hosted an interfaith conference that very week. As the ex-Pope was walking past the window of an exclusive suite where His Holiness the Dalai Lama was staying, he heard a voice speaking with a heavy Tibetan accent:
"Hey, poor pauper, come in for a minute, will you?"
One day the Pope was sitting in the Vatican, feeling bored. He'd taught everyone how to live, he'd apologized for all the church's misdeeds in the past, and he could not think of anything else to do. He wanted to live the life to the fullest, to roll in the morning dew, to fondle well-formed female buttocks, to make obscene phone calls, to use heavy drugs and explore the meaning of life.
Looking out of the window the Pope saw a pauper who was crossing the piazza. An idea suddenly crossed the Holy Father's weary mind. He invited the pauper inside and told him to take his clothes off. The poor guy was used to that kind of things, so he disrobed quickly. The Pope did the same, only it took him more time - he had more things on.
"I think we should agree on the fee first, Your Holiness," the pauper suggested, for he'd been burned before. Imagine his surprise when the Pope slipped into his rags and beckoned the pauper to put the papal vestment on. Before the lucky sod could say Eucharist, the Pope bolted out, jumped into a taxi and was gone.
A life full of adventures lay before him. Sex, drugs, rock'n'roll, soup kitchens… But soon he grew tired of it all. There was too much to do. Consider his typical daily routine:
9am: Breakfast at the Holy Virgin mission.
10am: Gang bang at Luigi's.
12pm: Lunch at the Holy Virgin.
1pm: Coke party at Francesca's.
4pm: Orgy at Claudia's.
7pm: Motörhead live show at the Coliseum.
10pm: Dope and s/m extravaganza at Decameron.
5am: Retiring to a bench in the park.
On top of that he was supposed to be raising funds by aggressive panhandling and picking pockets.
The Pope was not a young man and he could not endure this lifestyle for long. It was a full life, alright, but it was too much too late. He remembered his quiet life as the Holy Father, when there was hardly anything to do, with a warm fuzzy feeling. So he returned to the Vatican and ordered the acting Pope to switch back.
But the pauper-come-Pope wouldn't hear of it.
"I like it here," he said to the Pope. "I've never been happier before. And stop bugging me, or I'll unleash my cardinals on you."
The former Pope knew better than to risk that, so he quickly walked away, tears streaming down his cheeks. He would give anything to avoid seeing Francesca and Claudia again. He was so desperate that for a minute he even considered moving to Ireland and forming U2, but he dismissed the idea as utterly distasteful.
Little did he know that the Vatican hosted an interfaith conference that very week. As the ex-Pope was walking past the window of an exclusive suite where His Holiness the Dalai Lama was staying, he heard a voice speaking with a heavy Tibetan accent:
"Hey, poor pauper, come in for a minute, will you?"
posted by Surge Levene at 4:34 PM
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