"You threw it away. If you hadn't bribed all the judges...and the cocaine and teenage prostitution rings to finance your army of thugs. You nearly beat up the entire diocese. Not behavior much befitting a Pope."

"Save the holier than thou attitude, Popie. I've got the hat and I'm keeping it...Knuckles...Lefty!"

The Crab shouted through the intercom and two meaty thugs plodded in.

"Yes...uh...boss." they said in listless unison.

"Hey, you boys don't look so good" the Pope said.

"We just got from the all-you-can-eat catfish joint and we ate too much...don't feel so good." lefty said and wiped his sweaty neck with his right stump. It quivered with nauseated angst.

"You FOOLS!!!" the Crab yelled. "I told you to take it easy at the buffet. You always do this. Next time I'm going with you."

"Sorry boss." they said.

"Get him!" the Crab pointed at the place were the Pope was standing.

"Where is he?"

The Pope had disappeared.

"DAMN!" the Crab shouted.

"Well, at least you still got the hat, boss" knuckles said.

"Yes, you're right." The Crab laughed maniacally. "I've got the hat. Hatty hatty bo-batty banana fanna fo-fatty..."

Suddenly, the Pope swung down from the rafter and knocked the hat out of the Crab's hand. He rolled over the desk and flipped the hat with his feet up onto his grey balding head. He firmly planted his hands on his hips and stood triumphantly; a breeze blowing his cape behind him.

Knuckles and lefty stood dumbfounded. Knuckles swore he heard the Italian national anthem playing as a glint shone from the Pope's white teeth.

"Damn you!" the crab yelled.

Knuckles and Lefty lunged for the Pope but crashed into each other in a wet, vomit-soaked heap.