A priest hooks a huge fish. Helping him reel it in, a sailor says, “Whoa, look at the size of that fucker!”
“Hey, mind your language!” says the priest.
Embarrassed, the sailor says, “Sorry, Father, but that’s what this fish is called. It’s a Fucker fish.” Accepting the explanation, the priest takes the fish back to church.
“Look at this huge fucker,” says the priest, spotting the bishop.
The bishop cleans the fish and brings it to the mother superior. “Could you cook this fucker for dinner tonight?”
The mother superior says, “Wonderful, I’ll cook that fucker tonight. The Pope is coming for dinner!”
The fish tastes great, and the Pope asks where they got it.
“Well, I caught the fucker!” says the priest.
“And I cleaned the fucker!” says the bishop.
“And I cooked the fucker!” says the mother superior.
The Pope stares at them, leans back, takes off his cap, puts his feet up on the table, pours himself a whiskey, and says, “You know what? You cunts are alright.”
