Everybody’s favourite Paedophile smuggler, The Pope, has been announced as the main headliner for the upcoming Mass Festival, due to be held this summer somewhere in the back arse of Ireland.
The Pope, perhaps better known for talking shite whilst dressed like a giant teabag, had planned to spend the last few months honing his DJ skills using a set of second-hand Gemini decks that Jesus had left him in his will.
“Me and Jesus were tight. We both had a love for mass, holy wine and of course, banging kids. So when he died for all our sins he left me a few bits. Nothing major. You know yourself, a set of decks, some DVD’s, a small gold-plated city smack bang in the middle of Rome.”
“I was delighted, to be honest.”
“I mean, suuuure, my mate had been tortured for days, then hammered to death on a giant wooden cross and stuck in a hole in the side of the mountains, but… I mean… I had my eye on those decks for a few months, you know?”
“But then, two days later the bastard… Sorry, two days later Jesus showed up at my gaff, nails hanging out of his hands and he looked like he had been sessioning for days.”
“He said he wanted his decks back.”
“I told him he would only scratch all the vinyl, what with the nails in his hands and all, but he was having none of it.”
“I’ll tell my da on you’ he said”
“So I gave him the decks back.”
“Now I’m absolutely shite. I feel bad for anybody in the crowd on the day. I’ll be praying for you all, that’s for sure. Stock up on the oul’ communion bread before you come down and you might be alright, but don’t go down sober.”
“I couldn’t mix my way out of a confession box for fuck sake.”