There was an old
woman on a plane,
sitting next to
the Pope. It was stormy outside, and the plane
was
being rocked by some severe turbulence. So this
kindly old lady
looked upon Death’s door, and said
to her papal neighbour. ‘Father,
surely you can
do something about this…’
To which the Pope
replied, ‘Sorry lady, I’m in
sales, not management.’