When the Pope touched down in New York City, there were no roaring crowds or ceremonial choirs to greet him. Instead, a polished black limousine waited patiently by the runway. As he approached, a mischievous glimmer lit up the Pope’s eyes—an unexpected sparkle from such a revered figure.
With a grin, he turned to the chauffeur and asked, “Mind if I take the wheel for a bit?”
The driver stared, stunned. “Your Holiness… you want to drive the limo?”
“It’s been ages since I’ve driven,” the Pope chuckled. “It’d be quite the treat.”
Unwilling to refuse the Pope, the chauffeur reluctantly stepped aside. Moments later, the limousine was zipping through Manhattan like something out of a movie. The Pope was at the helm, his robe fluttering behind the wheel, foot pressed enthusiastically on the accelerator. Traffic lights flashed by in a blur as the limo hit 100 mph.
It wasn’t long before flashing lights appeared in the rearview mirror—a police cruiser giving chase. The siren wailed. The car pulled over. As the officer walked up to the window, he caught a glimpse of the driver and froze.
He picked up his radio and called his sergeant. “Uh… I’ve just pulled over a limo going way over the speed limit…”
“So what’s the issue?” the sergeant asked.
“Well… the driver’s someone very important.”
“Like the mayor?”
“Bigger.”
“The governor?”
“Still higher.”
“You’re telling me it’s the President?”
The officer hesitated. “Honestly, I don’t know who’s in the back seat… but the Pope is driving him.”
And if that wasn’t enough divine comedy for one day, consider the priest who got pulled over for speeding. As the officer approached the car, he caught a whiff of alcohol and noticed an empty wine bottle on the floor.“Have you been drinking, Father?” the officer asked, narrowing his eyes.
“Of course not, officer. Just water,” the priest replied calmly.
“Then why does it smell like wine?”
The priest looked down, gasped dramatically, and exclaimed, “Good heavens! He’s done it again!”
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