It is a dark and stormy day at the Vatican. The bells are tolling ominously, as inside, on his deathbed, lies Pope the Polack, breathing his last.
At the bedside there is a crowd of bishops, cardinals, priests and other homosexuals, moaning and chanting. Cardinal Cats-ass is crying his eyes out, as he is bent over the pope’s face.
“Ah! Don’t be upset,” gasps Pope the Polack. “Don’t cry. The Vatican council will surely find a great man to take my place. As a matter of fact, I am sure he will do much better than me.” “But,” whimpers Catsass, “that is just what they promised us last time!”