Granted audience by a mere [ahem] clerical error, a Catholic-basher had the Pope’s ear and undivided attention. Trying not to roll his eyes, the pontifical gaze focused on the man’s forehead as the litany of Church ills progressed, both in volume and sheer number of contemporary criticisms.
Afterward, in the hallway leading to his apartment, the Pope started a chuckle that inflated to full-blown hysterical laughter, doubling him over and forcing his hand to a wall for steadiness. His clerical entourage rushed up, assisting the Pontiff to steady himself and pick up his mitre.
Tears of laughter still in his eyes, he told the priests, “That poor fool thought his suggestions would help us change a church that’s been evolving for over two thousand years.
“So I told him I’d pray for him, issue a Papal decree granting him 2000 years to found or find a church of his liking, which is when it suddenly struck me he may not ever have been a Roman Catholic; and that, dear brothers in Christ, is what caused me to--how do they say on the internet—'L-M-A-O' and nearly go ass-over-elbows.”
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