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Wednesday, April 20, 2005

Pope Boof I

And after a while, you can work on points for style
Like the club tie, and the firm handshake
A certain look in the eye, and an easy smile
You have to be trusted by the people that you lie to
So that when they turn their backs on you
You'll get the chance to put the knife in.

July 2048 Sistine Chapel, Vatican City

After forty years of spiting my mother by climbing up the ladder of Catholicism, I am now ever so close to being the next pope. For forty years I have clawed my way up the Catholic ladder using tradition as the center of all my teachings. I have had my share of lucky breaks I call personal miracles and I even performed a miracle along the way.
I am now one miracle short of being a full-fledged saint. My other fellow cardinals have chosen me number one in the fantasy cardinal-to-saint draft held each year before Christmas.

I started out despising the religion for the first 26 years of my life after my mother insisted that I attend church regularly and participate in year after year of religion class. As hard as teachers tried, they couldn’t make me sit still and keep me quiet.

After I was confirmed I would never to return to church again until I saw the light in February 6 of 2006. It wasn’t until about 9:42pm when I saw the unbelievable 85 yard pass from Daunte Culpepper and the even more incredible catch in the end zone by Kelly Campbell, which clinched Superbowl XL for the Vikings. The game was the miracle of miracles because the Vikings were down 54-0 heading into the forth quarter when somehow God shed his light into the domed Ford Field and onto the Vikings as they came back for the 55-54 triumph over the Patriots.

From that day on, I rediscovered a supreme faith that had been misplaced for some time. I immediately went into theological study with my newly found mentor, father Hershel. I remember the first time I met Father Hershel when he stepped in the library as I was reading the Bible and asked,
“My son, I have never seen anyone reading the Bible in this library before. What’s the occasion?”
“I am studying to become a priest like yourself. Would you have any advice?” and the friendship started from there.

My mental strength and potential in my newly found faith was very strong and I figured since I was already celibate (not by choice), the battle was halfway won.

I remember the oneday I asked him about his name,
“Say, isn’t Hershel a Jewish name?” He was surprised by the odd—but honest--question. His eyes frantically looked around the room and he calmly said,

”No it isn’t.”
I never asked again.

I made my final vows and was finally a priest, and quite a successful one at that. My congregation was the only one to be taught by the music of Pink Floyd and I was the only priest to ever use the word ‘sucks’ during ash Wednesday service.

My congregation was a wild success and I raised well over 20 million dollars in the nine years I was at the helm.

Eventually I was appointed bishop by Pope Pius XIV.

My crowning moment as a bishop was promoting my “slap a queer” movement that dramatically decreased confused youths of “coming out”.

I was then appointed a cardinal by the same Pope Pius XIV in 2039. As I new cardinal I was quickly compared to the new Canadian cardinal Lycradog (who was appointed the same day as I). Everywhere I went, cardinal Lycradog would watch and try to one up me. When I was chief of the censorship committee, he would then beg to be on the cardinal committee of condemnation. It all was for the Catholic grand prize, to be the head of the faith.

It was competitive for about four years until cardinal lycradog was, hands down, the more supreme cardinal.

I was as down and out as a cardinal could be. I thought it was hopeless until I met one little boy in the small town of Laculo just outside of Rome. The little boy was very sick and the townspeople asked me to pray for the little boy with a noticeable bulge on his head. It was believed to be a cancerous tumor and as I approached the boy I didn’t know what to do except pray and flick his forehead…because—hey, why not?

The next day the bulge was gone and the child was playing in the streets of Laculo. The townspeople started shouting, “A miracle has been achieved!”
Soon the word spread like wildfire and with it I became a wild celebrity in the cardinal circle. I even made it onto the front page of 'Cardinal Weekly'!

Cardinal Lycradog wasn’t fazed though, he already had his huge success heading the committee of condemnation.

Unfortunately Pope Pius XIV passed away a short time later in 2048, just about a week ago and now all 214 cardinals are filing into the Sistine Chapel to elect the new leader.

Cardinal Lycradog is the favorite with all the popularity he’s had over the years and I am nowhere near the top 20 on the list.

Before the official conclave, cardinal Lycradog is prancing around the Chapel like he’s already the new Pope. He’s already been fitted for the gown and it’s almost a done deal.
A done deal that is, until the actual election.

As the cardinals sit in their thrones underneath the famous work of art the ballots are placed in front of us.

“Eligo in summum Pontificem Rev. mum D. Meum D. Card [Berg]” I write on the ballot because—hey, I wanna be Pope!

Little did I know that 134 fellow cardinals would share that sentiment and I would be crowned the next Pope.

As the canopies over the thrones are lowered, I figured my canopy was broken since it wouldn’t’ go down. Then the Dean came over and asked if I wanted to be pope.
I reply with a “Good Lord YES!” and I’m immediately escorted into the room of tears where I am pumping my 68-year-old fists and using numerous hockey celebrations that I remembered from 2004—the final year of the NHL. Cardinal Lycradog is now all red in the face and is fuming over losing this election.

After I dress in my new attire, I immediately sent to the window overlooking St. Peter’s square where a couple billion people are anticipating the new Pope.

I choose the name: Pope Boof I which is already receiving major criticism but I don’t care, I’m the damn pope!

I step outside the window with the weight of seven continents and a couple billion Catholics cheering on their new Pope Boof I.

Hey, it could happen!

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