The Pope had just arrived in New York on a special papal visit. While his luggage was being loaded into the limo, he waited hesitantly on the pavement.

'Excuse me, your holiness,' said his driver. 'Would you please take your seat so that we can leave?'

The Pope looked wistfully at the car. 'They never let me drive at the Vatican, and to tell you the truth, I'd really like to drive today.'

'I'm afraid I can't let you do that,' said the chauffeur. 'I'll lose my job! And what if you had an accident?'

But the Pope was becoming insistent. 'I'll make sure you are handsomely rewarded if you let me drive. Please. Just for this one day.'

Reluctantly, the chauffeur climbed into the back while the Pope positioned himself behind the wheel. No sooner had they left the airport than the Pope put his foot down and soon had the Popemobile doing a hundred and ten miles per hour.

'Slow down, please, your holiness!' begged the driver, but the Pope kept the pedal to the metal until he heard the sound of police car sirens.

'Oh great!' wailed the suffering chauffeur. 'Now I really will lose my licence!'

As the patrolman approached, the Pope pulled over and rolled down the window. Taking one look at him, the patrolman beat a hasty retreat back to his motorcycle and got straight on the radio. 'I need to talk to the chief,' he said urgently.

The chief of police got on the radio and the patrolman told him that he had stopped a limo that was doing over a hundred and ten miles per hour.

'So bust him,' said the chief.

'I don't think we want to do that,' said the cop. 'He's really important.'

'All the more reason.'

'No, I mean really important,' repeated the cop.

'Who've you got there, the mayor?'

'Bigger.'

'The governor?'

'Bigger.'

'Well,' said the chief, 'who is it?'

'I think it must be God,' replied the flustered cop.

'What on earth makes you think it's God?'

'Well, he's got the Pope driving for him!'