This is not humorous. Trust me. I don't even know what kind of sick person you are if you thought this story was funny. This is an account of a man confessing his sins.
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This one time Father, I went to mass, you know, like you've told us to. Only, there was this girl there. She was so pretty, with this blue wool coat on so you couldn't see too much, but she had a very pretty face. And I started staring at her, just hoping she would look back at me. She didn't, though, and you kept on with your sermon about the evils of a covetous nature, and I just thought it was the funniest thing. Right in the middle of church I laughed.
Really loud, but every one pretended like it didn't happen, so I titterred a little and quieted down. Anyway, I just stared at her until the end of the sermon, like my eyes were a pair of torches. But the bitch! . . . Excuse me, Father. But the girl didn't notice me at all! Can you believe it? Well, I knew she was just a snob that needed to come down off her pedestal, so I followed her out of the church.
Then, when she got near this one dark street, I looked around, right, all shifty-like, but no one was watching. Get this. I slapped her right across the face, then dragged her by her hair into an alley. I just started hitting her, and I couldn't stop, until I thought about how pretty her face had looked before, you know? So I stopped, and even though her arms were bruised and stuff, the coat had stopped a lot of the force, so she was still pretty all over her body. I know, 'cuz I took it off. The coat. Just peeled it right off her. Then I started feeling her, and I'm afraid to say it, Father, but I raped her. My hands felt of her and knew her in a way I know I shouldn't know. And she kept crying. Hm, I wish she would've stopped.
She really deserved it, though, I swear!
Whassat? Yes, as a matter of fact, she was sitting in front of me . . . Couldn'tve seen me? . . . Well, yeah, I guess you're right, Father. Boy, it's no wonder you do this shit . . . Excuse me, Father. It's no wonder you do this for a living. Thanks a ton. Police? Oh, no, I didn't invite them over for dinner. You're a riot, Father Ferrarone. G'bye.
Again, if you laughed, you're going to Hell. Seriously, I don'tt even know why I submitted this.