Shroud of Turin confirmed to be British man’s bath towel

Scientists have authenticated the religious relic proposed to be the burial shroud of Christ to be a British man’s threadbare bath towel.

The Roman Catholic Church are keeping a low profile concerning reports that the cloth possessing a haunting image ingrained in the fabric, and revered to be the covering placed over Jesus’s body, is actually a minging ancient bath towel once belonging to a grotty bloke from Barnsley.

Confirmed owner, Eric Booth commented: 'Museums are giving back all the stuff they’ve looted from other countries and I want mine. My towel was nicked off us washing line donkey’s years ago and i’ve been using a tea towel ever since it disappeared. It takes bloody ages to get dry.'

While acknowledging the Barnsley bather’s ownership, authorities at the Chapel of the Holy Shroud where the relic is drying are reluctant to part with the artefact.

Head of Sacred Laundry, Cardinal Vespa explained: 'It’s not just about the millions we rake in year after year from visitors and tourists, followers of Christ believe this to be burial covering bearing the actual image of the Son of Gad. If it returns to Yorkshire, Mr Booth will be inundated with pilgrims to watch him use the sacred towel to… well, I shudder to think!'

Booth replied: 'Bloody hell! On second thoughts, they can just buy me a new one from Home Bargains.'

Photo by Sven Mieke on Unsplash

Bible authors ‘must have been on drugs’ say experts

Recent scholarship has confirmed that whoever wrote the Bible ‘must have been off their tits, or something’.

Doctor Pete Lawton of the University of Padgate has been researching the Bible for twenty years. His PhD thesis “Biblical Exegesis: Is It A Waste of Everybody’s Time?” was less an academic paper than a cry for help.

‘I’ve spent the best years of my life studying this book’, he told journalists. ‘I’ve read it in Greek, in Hebrew, I even learned Aramaic for that bit at the end where Jesus gets really pissed off. All around me the literature and art students were getting laid, getting wasted, going to music festivals. I actually pitied them their shallow lives. Can you believe that?

‘And then it dawned on me: it’s totally batshit crazy. Plague of boils? Frogs? People getting turned into pillars of salt? It’s like Game of Thrones on acid. Might as well study the Tooth Fairy.

‘I went off the rails a bit, got a new hairstyle and tried Psilocybin. That first trip – wow. I could hear the trees murmuring to one another through the earth. I held a conversation with a eucalyptus tree in Australia – they’re all connected, you see – and I felt the warmth of the earth’s embrace for the first time. When I came round I’d crapped myself quite thoroughly, but after a quick shower I went back to the Bible and it suddenly made sense’.

Theologians are divided on whether the Bible was written under the influence of mushrooms or alcohol, but strongly recommend being high before reading the thing.

image from pixabay

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Retired priest persuaded to take on ‘one last Mass’

He was home free. After a lifetime of saving souls, dipping into the collection plate and running from Satan, Fr Mackenzie finally had a shot at retirement. But the Bishop had other plans. And you don't bash the Bishop.

'It's the Randle brothers. They'll be in town next month. Sinners and filthy rich. Could be our biggest score'.

'I told ya, Bish. I'm never goin' back'.

The Bishop looked around the tiny apartment. 'Call this home? You could be in St Anselm's playing chess with the others'.

Fr Mackenzie sighed. He knew the conversation. 'I'm alone, Bish; I am not lonely'.

It was futile, though. For a man like Fr Mackenzie, the action is the juice. He knew it, Bish knew it. And Satan was hovering, waiting for him to make a slip.

'You live simply'.

'Yeah, well, a wise priest once told me: Don't let yourself get attached to anything you are not willing to walk out on in 30 seconds flat if you feel the heat around the corner. Remember that conversation, Your Grace?'

The Bishop shrugged. 'I'm not an Archbishop yet. My Lord will do. This score, though – the Randle Brothers – you could retire a Monsignor'.

He was retired already, but he needed the action. Bish knew it. They both did. He missed the juice.

'Ah, what the hell. One last job, yeah?'

The Bishop smiled. 'I'll bring the incense. Pack your rosary beads Jack, we're goin' hunting'.

Image: Kelly Sikkema (@kellysikkema) | Unsplash Photo Community

First published 11 June 2023

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