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“Good God Thackeray….where you have you been….you’re like a mahogany prune”

Phil "The Hulk" Hogan venomously denied eating genetically modified foods

Phil “The Hulk” Hogan venomously denied eating genetically modified foods

Spike Righteous gasped as he saw me saunter into the rugby club last night wearing my Man from Del Monte silk white suit. “Jealousy Spike will cost you a round” I replied flicking my Fedora hat with a flourish. “I’ve just got back from the Bahamas after a hard week with the other Irish Water Consultants” I mused, nodding at Tracey man barmaid to bring me my favourite post-holiday cocktail…”The Corpse Reviver”. “How on earth are YOU qualified to be a consultant for Irish Water….you’ve never drank water in your life?” Spike retorted with an injustice red colouring his face. “Well firstly Spike…as you know I am a Chartered Accountant…and therefore by divine right am entitled to be involved in any deal where oodles of cash are to be made….that’s just the law…..Secondly I am a man….and Thirdly….” I was about to continue before I was rudely interrupted by Tracey. “Your COCKTAIL is €8.50” she barked in some foreign accent she learned down at The English market aka car boot sale for wannabe toffs. “Biffo will be in shortly…and as you know… last in first to pay” I replied handing her the cocktail umbrella “now hold that over your head Tracey….it’ll keep your brain dry in the rain”. “You were saying…you were saying” Spike shouted, his eyeballs squinting now from the glint of my gold cufflinks with the UISCE na h’EIREANN lettering. “Yes Spike….my sincere apologies” I sighed “THIRDLY….I went to school with Phil The HULK Hogan….long before he was Minister for Septic Tanks or European Commissioner for Silage Pits”. Spike hands began to shake uncontrollably. “You mean to say that YOU were made an Irish Consultant because you went to school with The HULK” he screamed in a pitch not heard since the Leinster boys came to play us. “School tie Spike….school tie….what do you think the fees are for?” I said raising my eyes in surprise.

Just then Biffo “The Gard” Boyle galloped his way through the door and up to the bar, his bulbous face contorted in rage. “My God Biffo….have you been trying to count how many doughnuts you ate this week again….I warned you about this before” I stated, patting him on his shoulder “it does you no good…all you need to know is that it would feed a small African nation for a month or Roscommoners for a week”. “Those bastards” he shouted, gripping the handrail in temper “those bastard Traffic Corps just fined me for having no tax on the motor….and me a Gard” he roared “they’re nothing short of the Gestapo”. Spike who was still in a trance from my explanation suddenly shook himself “You mean like the Gestapo who are protecting the Government by clattering the bejesus out of anyone stopping the water meters….you mean like those Gestapo bastards Biffo”. “Now now” I interjected when I saw Biffo reach for his truncheon “lets all calm down and have pint of Giggle Juice…now Biffo what are you having?. He relaxed his hand on the truncheon, slipping on his knuckleduster instead “I better have a water…those feckers will probably bag me on the way home”. “At last a cheap round…Tracey…a pint of your finest water on the rocks for Biffo here…and a Fanta and a packet of crisps for Spike….don’t give him anymore Lucozade…you know he can’t handle it” I said scoldingly. Tracey slammed the pint of water on the table with her one good hand, a curious glint from her false eye “That’ll be €4.50 Thackeray…the ice cubes are an extra 50 cent each”. Irish Water….still it seemed like a good idea at the time….