This morning the Son of God descended to Earth in all his heavenly glory, shafts of light shining on his countenance, where beads of sweat glittered as he spake “Yeah, yeah, blessings and all that, do you have some of that money you’ve been collecting?” Choirs of angels sang his praises, but didn’t quite cover the sound of thunderous knocking on the clouds above, and shouts of “The Odinbank dost demand its gold!”
The Way and the Light landed in Saint Peter’s square, where Pope Francis insisted that none of the Catholic Church’s hundreds of billions of dollars in yearly income was currently stored in his vestments.
“There are many homes where my father lives”, explained the One True Savior, “And when you don’t flip them in time the interest gets pretty savage. And their debt collector carries a hammer. A hammer! Sweet me but he’s scary.”
“It turns out moneylenders are way harder to deal with when you can’t just violently smash up their stuff” added the Lord of Hosts, rubbing his most holy jaw and limping a little. “Honestly, as an unarmed pacifist I’m not sure how I got away with that the first time”
The Lamb of God whistled as entered St Paul’s basilica. “You guys have done alright for yourselves. No moneylenders in here, they couldn’t afford it. Any tax collectors? They owe me a favor.”
As storm clouds gathered over the Vatican it was explained that despite literally incalculable wealth, the Catholic Church doesn’t actually pay taxes. The King of Kings winced, sucking his teeth and explaining that while he would normally have a problem with that, now was a brilliant time for any rich men or even wealthy camels who wanted to work out entry into the Kingdom of Heaven. Christ the Lamb then winked, rubbing his thumb and fingertips together as lightning boomed above the dome.
At time of publication the Son of God is standing in St Peter’s square offering to turn bottled water into Romanée-Conti Burgundy at five euro a pop, but sales are poor owing to torrential rain.
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