She Mars On Your Vicars

My friends, there are certain times in one's life when you come to realize that there are bigger things in this world than yourself. That there are greater forces at work — a higher power, perchaps — that guides our fates with a benevolent hand. We struggle on faith alone, but occasionally, an individual may be blessed with a moment where those forces reach out and touch our lives, and we receive the evidence which proves that our destinies are bound by a larger purpose.

Such a moment occurred for me earlier today as I received a sign — an instant message, if you will — from the Man himself, the Great One, God's mouthpiece here on Earth ... our new Pope ... Peabs I.

Duhvs, I was dumbstruck by this blessing from above, but the Pontiff quickly assured me that I was perfectly worthy to chat with his gorgeous self. (What a turkey!) He then informed me that this very day, Peabs and Dr. Coz were on their way to Rome to hit up the Conclave of Cardinals with a pocket full of kryptonite and a briefcase full of crystal meth. Schmobviously, after 48 Hrs. of drug-induced ass play with the likes of Cardinal Law, Brian Cardinal, and Ozzie Smith, there's a good chance we'll be answering to the Hole-y Roman Emperor Peabs The Plentiful by sundown on Sunday. Between Dizzie, Cosby, and Ozzie, your Pius XII ass will feel like the Cardinal of the Kremlin pickled and French tickled your fickle Basilica. In Latin, too boot.

Ozzle-bay you filthy little piggies.