As some of you might know, I'm a Roman Catholic, and my brother happens to be a cardinal (and he entered his 30th year of service this year).
As is traditional, after long service a cardinal is invited, along with his immediate family and siblings (no children or wife, obviously) to the Vatican City for an audience with the Pope.
Now I'm not the religious type (hell, I lost my religion back in 'Nam. Sleeping in a tent made from ten skinned Viet-Cong, and feeding on the eyeballs of your superiors for threee years will do that).
Anyways, we arrive in the Vatican, me in my ol' service dress, still bloodstained where my legs got blown off, but stuck back on with a bit of good old United States Chewing Gum, my bro in his cardinal skirt, and ma ma and pops teary at the eyes and proud.
Anyways, we enter this big ol' church thing, and lo and behold, there is the Pope.
Now I don't speak too good Italian, or Latin, so my bro had to translate.
Anyways, this old Pope starts talking, and my bro fills us in;
"Welcome my Children, I pray you are always safe. Now let us pray, to ward away Satan".
So my bro gets down to his knees, my pops and ma too, and this old Pope starts chanting away in Latin.
This goes on for what, ten, fifteen minutes?
At that point, I walk up to this Pope, lamp him in the face, and watch him crumble.
When he finally comes to he asks, in Latin "why?"
And I answer "Satan's busy, he sent me".