After getting his entire luggage loaded in the limo, and His Holiness doesn't travel light, the driver notices that the Pope is still standing on the curb.

"Hey, Mr. Pope" says the driver in accented English, "Why have you not seated yourself in this excellent limo?"

"Well, to tell you the truth," says the Pope, "They never let me drive at the Vatican, and I'd really like to drive."

"That is very much against the rules!" protests the driver, wishing he'd never left Calcutta.

"There might be something extra in it for you," says the Pope.

Reluctantly, the driver gets in the back as the Pope gets in behind the wheel. He quickly regrets his decision when, after clearing the airport, the Pope accelerates the limo to 105 mph.

"Please be driving not so rapidly, Mr. Pope," pleads the worried driver, but the Pope keeps the pedal to the metal.

Then they hear the siren. "Oh, my God, now I am surely losing my license," moans the driver.

The Pope pulls over and rolls down the window as the patrolman approaches, but the cop takes one look at him, goes back to his motorcycle, and gets on the radio.

"I need to talk to the Chief," he says to the dispatch.

The Chief gets on the radio and the cop tells him that he's stopped a limo going a hundred and five miles per hour.

"So bust him," said the Chief.

"I think the guy's a big shot," said the cop.

"All the more reason."

"No, I mean really a big shot," said the cop.

"What'd ya got there, . . . the Mayor?"

"Bigger."

"Governor."

"Bigger."

"Well," said the Chief, "Who is it?"

"I don't know," said the cop, "but he's got the Pope driving for him."