Black smoke has been spotted coming from Conclave chimney

No whey!

Three men tragically are killed in a car accident and find themselves at the gates of Heaven. They’re met by Saint Peter. “Guys, welcome to Heaven! Entrance is not automatic, you need to pass a little test. In the old days, we used to examine your life, weigh your sins against your good deeds, that sort of thing. But these days, we’ve found that we’ve had to relax the entrance requirements quite a bit, as otherwise we’re finding very few candidates make it in. So here’s the test: What’s the meaning of Easter?” The first unfortunate soul nervously speaks out. “Well, er, Easter is when we cut down a tree, bring it in the house and decorate it, and Santa Claus brings us presents, and…” Peter cuts him off. “No, you’re thinking about Christmas. You go to Hell,” and with that, the man disappears in a puff of sulphuric smoke and fire. The next guy says, “Uhhh, Easter, hmm. Oh yeah, that’s when we have parades, politicians make speeches, we have picnics, at night we shoot off fireworks…” The Vicar of Christ sighs. “No, that’s not even a religious holiday. You’re thinking of American Independence Day. You go with the other guy.” Poof, and he was gone. The third man confidently begins. “The story of Easter is how our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, was crucified on the Cross to atone for our sins. He suffered, died, and was buried in the tomb. But on the third day, Easter Sunday, He rose from the dead, the stone covering the tomb was rolled away…” Peter is ready to cue the celestial trumpets and swing open the Gates. “… Jesus came out, saw his shadow, and we all had six more weeks of winter.”

Because Rock beats scissors.

Nobody saw it coming.

Funeral director, "Sir, it would cost about £25,000 if we send her home back to the UK or £500 if we bury her here in Jerusalem." Me:"Ship her home." Funeral director: "But sir, why don't you bury her here in the Holy Land and you can save money." Me: "A long time ago a man was buried here and 3 days later he rose from the dead, I can't take that chance."

He disappears into the bathroom for a few minutes, and emerges with his cock covered in white powder. He says "I've just ground up some aspirin and dusted my dick with it. Do you want to take it orally or as a suppository?"

An artist asked the gallery owner If there been any interest in his paintings. I have good news and bad news the owner replied. the good news is that a gentleman inquired about your work and wondered if it would appreciate and value after your death. when I told him it would he bought all 15 of your paintings. " that's wonderful" the artist exclaimed, "what's the bad news?" - the guy was your doctor

A desserter

It was petty theft

It's called manypaws