The Pope

A priest hooks a huge fish. Helping him reel it in, a sailor says "Whoa, look at the size of that *censored*!"

"Hey, mind your language!" says the priest.

Embarrassed, the sailor thinks quickly and blurts out, "sorry father, but that's what this fish is called - it's a *censored* fish"

Accepting the explanation, the priest forgives the sailor and takes the fish back to church.

"Look at this huge *censored*" says the priest, spotting the bishop.

"Language please! This is God's house," replies the bishop.

"No, no - that's what this fish is called,” says the priest.

"Oh," says the bishop, scratching his chin "I could clean that *censored* And we could have it for dinner"..

So the bishop takes the fish, cleans it, and brings it to the mother superior.

"Could you cook this *censored* for dinner tonight?" he asks her.

"My, what language!" she exclaims, clearly shocked.

"No, sister that's what the fish is called - a *censored*" says the bishop.

Satisfied with the explanation, the mother superior says, "wonderful, I'll cook that *censored* tonight, the Pope is coming for dinner!"

The fish tastes just great and the Pope asks where they got it.

"Well, I caught the *censored*!" says the priest.

"And I cleaned the *censored*!" says the bishop.

"And I cooked the *censored*!" says the mother superior.

The Pope stares at them for a minute with a steely glaze, leans back on his chair, takes off his cap, puts his feet up on the table, pours himself a whiskey and says "You know what? You *censored* are alright.