The Reverend John Flapps was the pastor of a small town church
in Ireland . One day he was walking down the High Street and he
noticed a young lady of his congregation sitting in a pub
drinking beer.
The Reverend wasn't happy. He walked through the open
door of the pub and sat down next to the woman. 'Mrs
Fitzgerald,' he said sternly. 'This is no place for a member
of my congregation. Why don't you let me take you home?' 'Sure,'
she said with a slur, obviously very drunk.
When Mrs Fitzgerald stood up from the bar, she began to weave
back and forth.
The Reverend realized that she'd had far too much to drink and
grabbed her arms to steady her. When he did, they both lost
their Balance and tumbled to the floor.
After rolling around for a few moments, the Reverend wound up
on top of Mrs. Fitzgerald, her skirt hiked up to her waist.
The pub landlord looked over and said, 'Oi Mate, we won't have
any of that carrying on in this pub.'
The Reverend looked up at the landlord and said, 'But you
don't understand, I'm Pastor Flapps.' The landlord nodded and
said,
'Oh well, if you're that far in, you might as well finish.'
