Mr. Pothead

A pickled Mr. Pothead poked a pre-pubescent pupil past the praying pew to peek at the priest popping pills into the pure, prayed upon wine. Peering round at peers and properly praying people – preoccupied with pious practice – Pothead pondered its unholy purpose. The pretentious priest, who remained prim and proper ‘mongst the preached-to parent populace, had a putrid practice with prayer-choir pupils and their petrified penises (pun purely by haps). At mass he’d pray, piping psalms pro piety and preached from Peter and Paul. But the Pontius Pilot prick played putrid games the pure pope would admire or abhor.