ROME – With Pope Francis clinging to life in Gemelli Hospital, the Vatican dropped a bombshell Monday afternoon that has Catholics worldwide clutching their rosaries and their beers in equal measure. The 88-year-old pontiff, battling double pneumonia and kidney failure, reportedly issued a final decree from his hospital bed: “Party like it’s 999, boys. I’m outta here soon, and I want to see some chaos.“
According to sources close to the Holy See (and by “close” we mean they loiter near the espresso machine in the Vatican press room), Francis scribbled the order on a napkin stained with what appeared to be tomato soup and a smudge of desperation. “He’s been watching reruns of The Masked Singer on his oxygen tank’s tiny TV,” said one anonymous cardinal, who claimed the Pope muttered, “If I’m going out, I want the Sistine Chapel turned into a rave. Get me some glow sticks and a DJ who knows Latin chants.“
The directive, which insiders are calling “The Last Banger Edict,” has thrown the normally dour Vatican into a tailspin of hedonistic planning. Cardinal Pietro Parolin, the Secretary of State, was seen sprinting through St. Peter’s Square with a crate of Prosecco, yelling, “The Holy Father wants body shots off the Pietà!” Meanwhile, the Swiss Guard traded their halberds for turntables, promising to drop a beat so sick it’ll resurrect Lazarus just to dance.
Web reports from outlets like The Guardian and CBS News confirm Francis has been in critical condition since last week, hooked up to high-flow oxygen and subsisting on a diet of prayers and IV drips. But this latest twist has even the most pious scratching their heads. “I thought he’d go out with a sermon,” said Maria Rossi, a Roman florist who’s been leaving daisies outside the hospital. “Now I’m wondering if I should swap these for a six-pack.“
The Pope’s alleged final words to his medical team, overheard by a janitor mopping the hall, were, “Tell ‘em to crank the Gregorian Remixes Vol. 3 and let the nuns loose. I wanna see Sister Bernadette twerking before I meet St. Peter.” Whether this was delirium from the pneumonia or a genuine papal bucket-list item remains unclear, but the Vatican’s PR team isn’t denying it. “His Holiness has always had a playful side,” said spokesman Matteo Bruni, nervously eyeing a confetti cannon someone had smuggled into the press room.
Not everyone’s amused. Conservative Catholics are already crying heresy, with one X user posting, “This is what happens when you let a Jesuit run the show. Next, he’ll canonize Skrillex.” Others speculate this could be a ploy to distract from succession talks, as cardinals huddle in smoky backrooms plotting the next conclave. “He’s pulling a Nero,” grumbled Archbishop Carlo Vigano, the exiled firebrand, in a blog post titled “Fiddling While Rome Burns (With Neon Lights).”
Meanwhile, the faithful are taking it in stride. In St. Peter’s Square, where nightly prayers for Francis’s recovery kicked off Monday, a group of teens swapped their hymnals for glow-in-the-dark crucifixes and started a conga line. “If the Pope says party, we party,” said Luca Bianchi, 19, chugging a Red Bull. “I just hope he hangs on long enough to bless the keg.“
As of press time, Gemelli Hospital reports Francis is still kicking, albeit barely, with doctors marveling at his ability to mutter “More bass” between coughing fits. Whether the Vatican will follow through on the rave remains to be seen, but one thing’s certain: if this is the end, Pope Francis is determined to make it a holy hullabaloo.
“Now, somebody fetch me a laptop with FL Studio,” he reportedly wheezed to a nurse. “I’ve got one last Alleluia to slap.“
