What tha fuck was that?
Woke up last nite in the pontifical scratcher, baby, you know what I'm sayin'. Hear this clinky clankin' downstairs, so I pick up one of those big-ass pope metal things with Jesus on them and shit and creep down tha stairs.
I took the metal Jesus thing cos it could beat the fuck out of someone if they were tryin to fuck with tha Pope. No one does that. The Jesus stick was real heavy in my hand, you know?
I looks out the window and see this fuckin guy on a BMX and his friend has found an altar we were throwing out. It was in a skip outside. It just didn't cut it in Pope-terms anymore. It was slowing down mass. I can show you the figures and diagrams if you want, YOU FUCK! It was all on the up- and-up, for sure.
Anyway, this other guy, a kid, snotnose little bastard, was crouched down and was trying to fuck my fuckin' altar! Do you know the kind of disrespect this shows for tha Pope? A FUCKIN LOT! I been laid up in tha hopsital for weeks after tha spill I took off tha roof of the Vat, now some clown's having intercourse with my furniture!
Needless to say that chubby fuck Cardinal Tomas O'Shea was nowhere to be seen.
I grabbed the punk and slung him across the yard into the inflatable paddling pool, then beat him to within an inch of his life with the Jesus stick, then stuck his shoes in his mouth and kicked him out the gate after givin him a wedgie. That's him learned!
The Skatepope is available for after-dinner talks and bar mitzvahs.
