Dear Pope What's-His-Knickers,
RE GLORY GODLY MAN UNITED PART II AND WHAT ABOUT CITY?!!!!
Further to my previous email, I have received a follow-up phone call from God on my special satellite hotline to heaven. It was worse than last time and whilst he thanks you for saying mass in the "Either you love United or you are wrong" T-Shirt the other day, the Lord Our God tells me he is less than happy with a second long-term development involving the fact that nothing has been heard from the Vatican about the Manchester City situation. This is important to God, not least because his son, Jesus Christ, is a Bertie hater of galactic proportions and feels that the Vatican has lifted not one fingernail on a pinkie to assist Saint Michel Platini to fetch down the Evil Empire that has risen before our horrified eyes in East Manchester. I don't mind telling you, I could hear Jesus ranting and raving in the background during the call.
"City are Champions twice in three years", I heard him say, and then he said. "The Pope is a stupid fucking bastard with the brains of a lobotomised gold fish. I swear to you, I am going downstairs right now to kill the twat. It is nothing short of fucking blasphemy".
I heard this clearly, by the way, and it was chilling. Then at one point, you could hear a scuffle (if not a veritable fight) and Jesus could be clearly heard attempting to wrestle the phone away from his dad and wow, it sounded less than pretty. There were unmistakable slapping noises and wailing. Then we got cut off and I thought maybe they had killed each other. Thankfully, though, God rang back a few hours later with further interim instructions as to what the Vatican must do now. These are as follows
|To be worn by the Pontiff at all times.|