Fishing Priest.

The parish priest went on a fishing trip.

On the last day of his trip he hooked a monster fish and proceeded
to reel it in.

The guide, holding a net, yelled, "Look at the size of that Son of a biatch!"

"Son, I'm a priest. Your Language is uncalled for!"

"No, Father, that's what kind of fish it is - a Son of a biatch fish!"

"Really? Well then, help me land this Son of a biatch!"

Once in the boat, they marveled at the size of the monster.

"Father, that's the biggest Son of a biatch I've ever seen"

"Yes, it is a big Son of a biatch. What should I do with it?"

"Why, eat it! Of course. You've never tasted anything as good as Son
of a biatch!"

Elated, the priest headed home to the rectory.
While unloading his gear and his prize catch, Sister Mary inquired
about his trip.

"Take a look at this big Son of a biatch I caught!"

Sister Mary gasped and clutched her rosary, "Father!"

"It's OK, Sister. That's what kind of fish it is, a Son of a biatch
fish!"

"Oh, well then, what are you going to do with that big Son of a
biatch?"

Sister Mary informed the priest that the new Bishop was scheduled to
visit in a few days and that they should fix the Son of a biatch for
his dinner.

"I'll even clean the Son of a biatch", she said.

As she was cleaning the huge fish, the Friar walked in

"What are you doing Sister?"

"Father wants me to clean this big Son of a biatch for the new Bishop's
Dinner"

"Sister! I'll clean it if you're so upset! Please watch your
language!"

"No, no, no, it's called a Son of a biatch Fish."

"Really? Well, in that case, I'll fix up a great meal to go with it,
and that Son of a biatch can be the main course!

Let me know when you've finished cleaning that Son of a biatch."

On the night of the new Bishop's visit, everything was perfect.
The Friar had prepared an excellent meal.
The wine was fine, and the fish was excellent.

The new Bishop said, "This is great fish, where did you get it?"

"I caught that Son of a biatch!" proclaimed the proud priest.

"And I cleaned the Son of a biatch!" exclaimed the Sister.

The Friar added, "And I prepared the Son of a biatch, using a special
recipe!

The new Bishop looked around at each of them.

A big smile crept across his face as he said, "You forkers are my kind
of people!"