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Concerns were raised when Pope Francis headlined at last year’s ‘Burning Man’ festival, appearing in a Che Guevara t-shirt and Thai fisherman trousers. A Church spokesman refused to be drawn on God’s political leanings but did admit that the Vatican would soon be turned into an organic farm, with an endorsement from Jeremy Corbyn.


Reeking of Nag Champa, God explained he had learnt to play the didgeridoo and had discovered yoga for the first time. He announced his intention to perform on the alternative-comedy circuit with his own brand of left-wing gospels and observational quips on why Michael Mcintyre is going to hell. Although one hard-line priest complained: ‘The power has clearly gone to God’s head, he’s suffering from a Russel Brand-complex’.







In the small galley kitchen of Elsie and Percy Holdsworth, which is painted orange and has cabinets with sliding frosted glass doors and solid wooden cupboards, with a tin of Andrews liver salts and some Brooke Bond tea cards lurking at the back, accompanied by a Chivers Fruit Cocktail Jelly so out of date it thinks Harold Wilson is still the Prime Minister, the last chip pan in use has now retired.


Before having its fatty liquid innards poured into a bottle to be put out for the waste collection, the chip pan reflected that people want their chips much less fire risky and heart diseasy nowadays. When the chip pan was empty of its long held sunflower oil and laying on the draining board it cast a glance at the new kid on the block, the air fryer, who gloated about being for the statins generation, for the people who are uneasy about a lot of grease, and for the modern world in which sunflower oil is not as cheap as chips and even chips are no longer as cheap as chips.


A nearby bag of potatoes sighed and said it was the end of an era.



image from pixabay


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