After getting all of the Pope’s luggage loaded into the limo – and he doesn’t travel light – the chauffeur notices that the Pope is still standing on the curb.
“Excuse me, Your Holiness,” says the chauffeur, “Would you please take your seat so we can leave?”
“Well, to tell you the truth,” says the Pope, “they never let me drive at the Vatican, and I’d really like to drive today.”
“I’m sorry but I cannot let you do that. I’d lose my job! And what if something should happen?” protests the chauffeur.
“There might be something extra in it for you,” says the Pope.
Reluctantly, the chauffeur gets in the back as the Pope climbs in behind the wheel. The driver quickly regrets his decision when, after exiting the airport, the Pontiff floors it, accelerating the limo to 105 mph.
“Please slow down, Your Holiness!!!” pleads the worried chauffeur, but the Pope keeps the pedal to the metal until they hear sirens.
“Oh, dear God, I’m gonna lose my license,” moans the chauffeur.
The Pope pulls over and rolls down the window as the cop approaches, but the cop takes one look at him, goes back to his motorcycle, and gets on the radio.
“I need to talk to the Chief,” he says to the dispatcher. The Chief gets on the radio and the cop tells him that he’s stopped a limo going a hundred and five.
“So bust him,” says the Chief.
“I don’t think we want to do that, he’s really important,” said the cop.
The Chief exclaimed,” All the more reason!”
“No, I mean really important,” said the cop.
The Chief then asked, “Who ya got there, the Mayor?”
“Bigger.”
“Governor?” The Chief asked.
“Bigger.”
“Well,” said the Chief, “Who is it?”
“I think it’s God!” the cop exclaimed.
“What makes you think that?”
“Well for one thing, he’s got the Pope as a chauffeur.”
