The pope left America just in the nick of time

The pope has finally returned to the Vatican and boy is he lucky: If he’d stayed in America another day he would have:

(A) had to pay taxes;

(B) been asked to appear on “Star Search”;

(C) been shot at on the freeway;

(D) been asked to make a TV commercial for motor oil;

(E) been sued for palimony.

(IMPORTANT NOTE TO READERS WHO ARE ABOUT TO STOP READING AND WRITE ME A REALLY NASTY LETTER ACCUSING ME OF RIDICULING THE POPE: Do not write me a really nasty letter accusing me of ridiculing the pope. I am not ridiculing the pope. I am ridiculing the people who hoped to capitalize on the pope’s visit. People like you and me.)

The pope came to America to touch base with American Catholics who, depending on whom you ask, are either “rebellious” or about to convert to Satanism. Through no fault of the pope, the visit became a seething, roiling, bubbling, churning, nauseating digestive tract of money-grabbing and complaining the likes of which you see only when somebody REALLY famous comes to town, like Madonna or the Care Bears.

The pope began his visit in Miami, which was recently declared dead by New York City, home of the famous garbage barge and the first city to open a pistol range on its subways.

As the pope and President Reagan spoke to the crowds of Miami drug dealers, lightning crackled overhead, which could be interpreted many different ways:

(A) the Lord was applauding;

(B) the lightning was meant for President Reagan;

(C) doctors were unhappy with the growing malpractice insurance crisis.

The pope then traveled to New Orleans, an industrial town engaged in the manufacture of extremely rugged units of industrial-strength pornography.

There, tourists could avail themselves of quaint, hand-carved souvenirs, such as “Pope Scopes,” which are little cardboard boxes with mirrors at each end like you used as a child to look up girls’ dresses. Or, they could purchase “Pope-on-a-Rope” soap, though I am not sure I would want the pope seeing me naked in the shower.

From there it was on to some unimportant states like Texas, and then the pope landed in Los Angeles, where I assume he managed to find his way through the airport and retrieve his luggage all in the same week.

After dodging crowds of music-video manufacturers, the pope spoke to representatives of the entertainment industry, where he likely had to fend off marriage proposals from Joan Collins.

The money-grabbers were there, too, with their papal lawn sprinklers, which is ironic because grass has ceased to exist in Los Angeles unless it is rolled into little papers and smoked.

The pope, before returning to America, may require that we all submit to urine tests.

This column was published in a 1987 edition of the Playground Daily News and is used with permission.

About the author:

Del Stone Jr. is a professional fiction writer. He is known primarily for his work in the contemporary dark fiction field, but has also published science fiction and contemporary fantasy. Stone’s stories, poetry and scripts have appeared in publications such as Amazing Stories, Eldritch Tales, and Bantam-Spectra’s Full Spectrum. His short fiction has been published in The Year’s Best Horror Stories XXII; Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine; the Pocket Books anthology More Phobias; the Barnes & Noble anthologies 100 Wicked Little Witch Stories, Horrors! 365 Scary Stories, and 100 Astounding Little Alien Stories; the HWA anthology Psychos; and other short fiction venues, like Blood Muse, Live Without a Net, Zombiesque and Sex Macabre. Stone’s comic book debut was in the Clive Barker series of books, Hellraiser, published by Marvel/Epic and reprinted in The Best of Hellraiser anthology. He has also published stories in Penthouse Comix, and worked with artist Dave Dorman on many projects, including the illustrated novella “Roadkill,” a short story for the Andrew Vachss anthology Underground from Dark Horse, an ashcan titled “December” for Hero Illustrated, and several of Dorman’s Wasted Lands novellas and comics, such as Rail from Image and “The Uninvited.” Stone’s novel, Dead Heat, won the 1996 International Horror Guild’s award for best first novel and was a runner-up for the Bram Stoker Award. Stone has also been a finalist for the IHG award for short fiction, the British Fantasy Award for best novella, and a semifinalist for the Nebula and Writers of the Future awards. His stories have appeared in anthologies that have won the Bram Stoker Award and the World Fantasy Award. Two of his works were optioned for film, the novella “Black Tide” and short story “Crisis Line.”

Stone recently retired after a 41-year career in journalism. He won numerous awards for his work, and in 1986 was named Florida’s best columnist in his circulation division by the Florida Society of Newspaper Editors. In 2001 he received an honorable mention from the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association for his essay “When Freedom of Speech Ends” and in 2003 he was voted Best of the Best in the category of columnists by Emerald Coast Magazine. He participated in book signings and awareness campaigns, and was a guest on local television and radio programs.

As an addendum, Stone is single, kills tomatoes and morning glories with ruthless efficiency, once tied the stem of a cocktail cherry in a knot with his tongue, and carries a permanent scar on his chest after having been shot with a paintball gun. He’s in his 60s as of this writing but doesn’t look a day over 94.

Contact Del at [email protected]. He is also on Facebook, twitter, Pinterest, tumblr, TikTok, and Instagram. Visit his website at delstonejr.com .