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The Reverend John Flapps is the pastor of a small town.
One day he notices a young lady from his congregation sitting in a pub, drinking beer and getting steadily sloshed.
"Excuse me, Mrs Fitzgerald," the Reverend says sternly. "This is no place for a member of my congregation. Why don't you let me take you home?"
"Sure," she slurs.
Mrs Fitzgerald puts her glass on the table and stands up, but begins to weave drunkenly back and forth.
As the Reverend grabs her arms to steady her, they both lose their balance and end up tumbling on the floor.
The Reverend falls on top of Mrs Fitzgerald, her skirt hiked up to her waist.
"Oi, mate!!" the landlord says, "we won't have that carry on in this establishment!"
The Reverend looks up at the landlord and declares: "But you don't understand! I'm Pastor Flapps."
"Well," the landlord says nodding, "if you're that far in you might as well finish."
One day he notices a young lady from his congregation sitting in a pub, drinking beer and getting steadily sloshed.
"Excuse me, Mrs Fitzgerald," the Reverend says sternly. "This is no place for a member of my congregation. Why don't you let me take you home?"
"Sure," she slurs.
Mrs Fitzgerald puts her glass on the table and stands up, but begins to weave drunkenly back and forth.
As the Reverend grabs her arms to steady her, they both lose their balance and end up tumbling on the floor.
The Reverend falls on top of Mrs Fitzgerald, her skirt hiked up to her waist.
"Oi, mate!!" the landlord says, "we won't have that carry on in this establishment!"
The Reverend looks up at the landlord and declares: "But you don't understand! I'm Pastor Flapps."
"Well," the landlord says nodding, "if you're that far in you might as well finish."
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