I hated to see all this happen to a nice cat guy like Pope Benedict…
He learned the hard way not to trust some sticky-fingered creep who stole papers off his desk and leaked them to the media, as if the Catholic Church didn’t already have enough problems. Because that act just exposed the fact that Benedict was trapped on the set of The Real Loaves-and-Fishwives of Rome, featuring a cast of ambitious men in dresses who thrive on petty jealousy and drama.
I imagine Benedict made up his mind to bag the whole thing one morning in the shower when he realized he was getting too frail to maintain a good grip on the soap. It was only a matter of time before he dropped it — and had ordained pervs lined up around the block to get a shot at him.
So he did what any sane celibate in such an untenable situation would do. He gave his two weeks’ notice. Instead of burning any bridges with, “Take this job and shove it,” he took the high road and quit in Latin so hardly anybody knew how he worded it.
To earn his final paycheck, he did a couple of appearances before a few hundred thousand people, then flew off into the sunset, leaving the troops to stew over their next move, since they were only trained to deal with dead popes.
Benedict wisely didn’t offer to stick around until they hired the new guy, or to help show his replacement the ropes (like where to hide his stuff from thieves assistants.)
Nope, he’s moving into a convent to spend the rest of his life trying to engage God in conversation.
Rotsa ruck with that.
A convent is his safest bet. It he meets any pervy nuns, they probably won’t want a piece of him.
I just hope the Vatican crowd doesn’t try to condemn Benedict to permanent solitary confinement and he’s able to get out and socialize, visit his family, and befriend some deserving cats to atone for the Vatican’s sinful “No Cats” rule.
With any luck, the convent ladies will be good Cat-holics, and allow Benedict to have as many cats as he wants.