The Reverend John Fluff was the pastor in a small town in Ireland.

 One day he was walking down the high street when he noticed a young lady of
his congregation sitting in a pub drinking beer. The Reverend wasn't happy!

He walked through the open door of the pub and sat down next to the woman.

"Miss Fitzgerald," he said sternly - "This is no place for a member of
my congregation. Why don't you let me take you home?"

"Sure!" she said with a slur, obviously very drunk.  
When Miss Fitzgerald stood up from the bar, she began to weave back
and forth.. The Reverend realized that she'd had far too much to drink and
grabbed her arms to steady her. When he did, they both lost their balance
and tumbled to the floor. After a few moments, the Reverend wound up on top
of Miss Fitzgerald, her skirt hiked up to her waist.

The pub barkeep looked over and said, "Oy mate, we won't have any of that carrying on in this pub."

The Reverend looked up at the landlord and said, "But you don't understand.

I'm Pastor Fluff."

The barkeep said, "Ah well, if you're that far in, ye might as well finish."