Pope Benedict and his Georgian gangsta homies are shoutin' peppy emo hymns from the Popemobile for all to hear.

The jammin' chaufeur parks across from a classy Romanian beatbox rollerink, and Pope 'n Crew burst out of the Popemobile, sportin' some stylin' bling-bling and like a hundred hot babes. Oh yeah!

But wait, what's this? Mahmoud Ahmadinejad and his happenin' crew of Slovakian biker thugs step out of their 1987 LeSharo Winnebago rappin' some crazy counter-revolutionary techno beats.

A clash is imminent. The crowds grow silent. Tensions mount. It is so still that you can hear the Vatican marching band three blocks over, playing "Sugar We're Going Down."

Ahmadinejad moves first. He totally whigs out! His goons breakdance Tchaikovsky's Nutcracker suite! The Pope is sweating. Suddenly, he reaches for his hat. He takes it off! Oh my, the Pope has a mega-fro!

Reminiscent of Joshua, the great Josh Daddy Foo' prays to God for the sun to stop, and turn into a huge multicolored disco ball, so that the battle may continue. Pope Benedict and his beatboxing Georgian emo hip-hop Christian gangstas (in rollerblades) start whaling on their electric guitars, and some crazy monks run to bring down the Arc of the Subwoofer from Mount Aerophat.

OH NO3Z AHMADINEJAD DOES NOT STAND A CHANCE! He starts to run but it is too late... Pope Benedict pulls a guitar pick out of his fro. The very firmaments of the earth shake, quake, and totally whig out as the Pope starts jamming.

Mahmoud Ahmadinejad has lost the battle, but that's ok, because this party is way groovy all the same.