- Lunge.
- Fistbump.
- Invite him for Netflix and Chill.
- Popes do not Netflix and Chill.
- Ask him how he thinks the Colts will do this year.
- Reach furtively into your jacket.
- Americans are a casual people, but greeting the Pope by saying, “Frank, you cocksucker! Been a while! How’s your bird?” would be inappropriate.
- Do not drink red wine around the Pope.
- Nor eat spaghetti.
- Scratch your balls.
- Scratch your lady-balls.
- Mention the Falkland Islands.
- If you absolutely must, call them the Malvinas, at least.
- Speaking of Argentina, let’s not mention their policy towards Nazis after the war, either.
- (It was an open door policy.)
- Poop your pants.
- Poop your habit.
- Poop your choir robes.
- Let’s just say that there will be no pooping in the Pope’s presence.
- I suppose it would be polite to inquire about Francis’ predecessor, Pope Benedict XVI, but try not to use the words “creepy-ass fuckwad,” “Emperor Palpatine,” or “the clearly, obviously, blatantly homosexual one.”
- If there were ever a good time to use babies as weapons, this would be the opposite.
- Please do not grab your baby by the fat little ankles and swing it into the Pope.
- That would be wrong.
- Do not bring up CrossFit around Pop Francis: he will not shut the fuck up about it.
- We get it: you’re down two cassock sizes and your miter needed to be hemmed; good for you, Francis.
- Do not call him Francis.
- He prefers Chainsaw.
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Mention the fact that the Catholic Church is a force of pure evil in the world and he’s the nice, happy marketing face on it.
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If you just stay away, you’ll have no trouble not doing things.
Have a dissenting opinion in Cuba.
I’ve heard the Crossfit has him considering a gluten-free almond flour Host.