I always wondered what would happen if someone fed the Pope L.S.D......
The possibilities of Catholicism taking some weird turns because of his delusions of grandeur coupled with the emotional and physical effects of L.S.D. are through the roof. Who knows what "God" would tell him. And how he would interpret it back to the masses.
I could see him prancing room to room in his sweet papal hat, wrapped in his 4000 count Egyptian sheets, proclaiming the Banana as the HOLY FRUIT. Blessing every little bug that he spots in the window sill or on the walls. Dubbing them Saint Spider, and Saint Fly.
And then he peaks. One of those crippling peaks too. Where you don't want to move and you can feel your pores squeezing each individual bead of sweat from your brow. He'll stammer something about "fuck the ecclesiastical functions, I am the lord. I am the lord! Fuck yo' couch nigga!" And WHAMMO! He's paralyzed by fear and adrenaline when he realizes the crucified Jesus on his wall is trying to gnaw his own fucking arms off so that he can escape. And because of the fear, and how his own fight or flight response makes him react. He screams for a hammer and nails. And the already frightened and confused guards rush him the requested tools. And that crazy bastard re-nails Jesus back onto that cross.
And that metaphoric street performance alone.... physically acted out in that manner, would send him in to such a self reflective tailspin that the following epiphany would be glorious in nature and full of dangerous religious implications.
Someone dose the pope...A.S.A.P!!!
