Jesus

Roger shat the bed.
After a long wait, one of the nuns who did voluntary work around the wards came to change the sheets. As she did so, she suddenly gave a little gasp and fell silent, crossing herself and staring at the smeared linen.
"Blimey, I didn't think it was that bad," Roger said.
"No no," she whispered, pointing at the bed, "it's the face of Jesus."
We both had a look at the stain on the mattress and she was right, there was a sort of resemblance.
"Well bugger me, so it does," Roger said, "or any other bloke with a beard."
"I think it looks like Gerry Adams," I said.
"It's a sign," the awe-struck nun sighed.
"Yeah," Roger said, "it's a sign I shouldn't have had that second chicken madras."

 

 

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