Dear Father Tony,
I must schnel scriben [write fast]. The Italians have invaded meine haus! They say I have broken der Lateran Treaty of 1929 what established der Vatikanishe City State mit crimes vhat I committed worldwide. Alles ist kaput! And those Swish Guards! They won't lift ein finger. I knew nothing! I tell you, nothing! Zhat pedo priest in Munich and those Irish bishofs! Hilf mir! [help me!]
In times of crisis, it's good to take the situation apart and follow the rules of triage, prioritizing the action steps according to urgency.
You say the Italian army has invaded the Vatican because you have violated the terms of the 1929 Lateran Treaty that established the Vatican City State. The bad news is that they may be correct. As Nancy Sinatra sang in These Boots are Made For Walkin, "You've been a messin' where you shouldn't be a messin'.
The good news is that the Italian army isn't that efficient. They will break for pranzo [lunch] soon and then take a siesta, so you've got a few hours to pack your jewels and ermine capes before you need to find a way out of Dodge.
Meanwhile, let's borrow a plan from that noble playbook called the Bible. Remember the story of Sodom and Gomorrah? Of course you do. You've been using it for years as part of your Biblical justification for persecuting gay people.
But before they lay down, the men of the city, the men of
Sodom, both young and old, all the people to the last man, surrounded the house; and they called to Lot, "Where are the men who came to you tonight? Bring them out to us, that we may know them."
Well, sounds like you're up against the same wall, and I gotta tell ya, having had a few Italian soldiers, you're in for either a very good time or a very bad time depending on your attitude.
May I suggest you deploy your assets. You have a very handsome secretary, Monsignor Georg Gänswein. I know your gonna miss him on those cold Bavarian nights, but you are going to have to offer him up to the Italians. Don't feel bad about this. Something tells me that when it's over, he will thank you.
While the soldiers are distracted with Georg, grab that small Raphael Madonna that is in room 37 of the museum and fill your pockets with the jewels in the sacristy of the Sistine Chapel (Open any drawer. That place is loaded, and by the way, it should have been open to the public all these years. You know who I had to sleep with to get a tour of those rooms!) and use the secret underground passage way to Castel Sant Angelo, just as your predecessor, Pope Clement VII did. Like him, you will have to part with the painting and the jewels to bribe your way out.
Get to the airport and get a flight to New York. Call me. I will be your agent. Trust me, honey, I'll have you on Letterman by the end of the day and you'll be signing a Jenny Craig deal before you can say "Who's your daddy?"
And whatever you do, don't look back. You do remember what happened to Lot's wife. If you turn into a pillar of salt, the most I can get you is a slot in Madame Tussaud's.