A Nightmare in Newport

When Pope John Paul came to Cardiff in the early eighties he presented one of the rings of Rome to the people of Wales. It ended up in a pawn shop in Pillgwenlly 

It was grab a granny night at the Plotters and Ken Frane would rather be looking out at the Newport Transporter Bridge from his vantage point of Newport Cathedral on Stow Hill, but Terry Heston had insisted, and who was Frane to turn his old mate down after everything that he’d done for him. The smell from the mudbanks of the River Usk this night were overpowering. There was a game on at Rodney Parade, Newport County were winning again but Terry Heston like the overgrown caveman that he was, had his sights set on the female of the species. He would not listen to Frane when he told him that “they were more deadly than the male”.

"Baptism, the rite of becoming a Christian, is necessary for salvation — whether the Baptism occurs by water, blood, or desire."

But what the fuck does that mean Father Eammon? Baptism by desire?

A woman in a shimmering blue snakeskin dress is stood at the font and she loosens her top slowly to reveal first one and then the second huge breast.

She tickles her fingers in the holy water and then cups some and lets it trickle down one pink fleshy bosom to the teat where she flicks at it and looks up coquettishly and then the same with the other but slower and more lascivious this time.

Father Eammon crosses himself and then undoes his cassock.