There was an old woman on a plane, sitting next to 
the Pope. It was stormy outside, and the plane was
being rocked by some severe turbulence. So this 
kindly old lady looked upon Death's door, and said 
to her papal neighbour. 'Father, surely you can 
do something about this...'
To which the Pope replied, 'Sorry lady, I'm in 
sales, not management.'