If you missed it in the last issue, be sure to read part one of this thrilling tale. When we last saw him, the Pope was on the move, and headed for a collision, with The Crab...

CHAPTER FOUR
As the Pope stepped out of his car, he felt a peculiar warm breeze on the back of his neck. He gripped his .45 and spun around on his heel.

He was facing the chest of a woman who must have been at least seven feet tall.

"Are you...I mean...gosh I feel silly asking you..." She blushed.

She wore a tight fitting spandex dress that would have made a stripper look twice. Her legs started at the ground and went all the way up to her ass; which was a textbook piece of cheesecake. Her lips were wetter than the noses of 10,000 cocker spaniels and twice as red. Her body said "POW!" and meant it.

"Y...Yes, I'm the Pope."

She giggled. "Hey, girls...It is him." She yelled over her shoulder.

Suddenly, twenty-five screaming teenage girls ran up to the Pope and encircled him like sharks ready for the kill. They screamed hysterically every time he moved.

"Popie...Popie, do the blessing thing...do the blessing thing."

The Pope smiled. "I really shouldn't"

"PLEEEASE!!!" A high pitched chorus whined.

"Well, okay..." He made the sign of the cross. "Bless you."

"HOORAY!!!" They screamed and tugged at his robe.

"Girls, I really have to go." he said.

"No!...don't go!..."

"Girls...Girls...I'll see you in church." He backed off throwing kisses and waving. "I love you all...thank you Rome, goodnight!...thank you my children."

The girls bounced down the street, giggling and blushing.

"You old dog you." he said to himself as he straightened his robe.