Tell me a joke. Earn +ve rep

The Pope is on a trip and word gets round he wants to make a low-key visit to a normal, even humble, parish for Sunday lunch with the priest. The priest in question gets word from the Archbishop that the Pope will be visiting his rectory around 1pm. The priest is excused his mass duties and the Archbishop asks him and his housekeeper to make sure they prepare a nice meal. Other than the archbishop, though, noone else will be invited.

So the priest of course is very excited and talks over ideas for a meal with the housekeeper. In the end they decide that the priest, who's a keen fisherman, should go out fishing on the Sunday morning and catch something to cook for the lunch, so that it's as fresh and tasty as possible.

The priest goes out way before dawn on the Sunday morning and fishes for eight hours straight. He finally lands what he was waiting for and rushes back to the rectory. The housekeeper greets him and asks him what he's caught.

"I've caught the tastiest fish I've ever tasted, Mary!" the priest says. "It's a superb example too."
He slaps the fish down onto the kitchen counter and the housekeeper looks it over. "What's this kind of fish called then, father?"

"Mary - it's a Phuckar", says the priest. Mary grips the counter to steady herself. "A..a what?" she says. "A Phuckar", says the priest, happily. "They're a very rare fish round here, it'll be a great dish for the pope. We need to fillet it properly and season it, then we need to baste it, and it'll taste just right."

So the priest fillets the fish and Mary starts to prepare it carefully with the seasoning the priest advises. She's just finished doing this when the archbishop arrives.

"Need any help?" the Archbish says. Then he sees the fish. "Wow, that's a fantastic looking fish."

"It certainly is, your grace" says Mary. "It's a really nice phuckar. Father caught it, and I've just seasoned it." The Archbishop has blanched and small beads of sweat are forming on his brow. "Errr.. what's that you say Mary..?" he stutters.

"Oh, no, don't worry your Grace," Mary says happily, "this fish is called a Phuckar, very rare round here and the tastiest fish Father has ever tasted. And all it needs now is to be basted in a dish, nice and slowly - would you like to help your Grace?"

So the Archbishop helps getting the fish into a nice big dish and then prepares it for basting.

The whole dinner is cooked and ready. The Pope arrives with minimum security and is ushered into the small dining room. The Pope, The Archbishop, The Priest and Mary the Housekeeper all sit down to the soup starter, and it's eaten with a nice red and polite parish talk. Then Mary brings in the fish.

"Ooh," says the Pope, interested. "That looks nice - how's it been prepared?"

The priest says modestly, "Well your Holiness - at dawn I went to the river and I caught this phuckar".

"And you filleted it too," says Mary, proudly. "You filleted the phuckar and I seasoned the phuckar".

The Archbishop says, "And finally I arrived your Holiness, and I basted the phuckar."

And the Pope leans back in his chair, takes a long slug on his red wine and says, "You know what? YOU CUNTS ARE ALRIGHT."