British, Irish Republicans Share Awkward Moment of Solidarity

Dublin – As Queen Elizabeth II makes the first royal visit to Ireland in over one hundred years, British and Irish republicans clashed on O’Connell Street yesterday in an awkward moment of solidarity.

Witnesses said the encounter was quite accidental, but rapidly became a social quagmire from which neither party could easily extricate itself. As protesters released black balloons into the air and belted out rebel songs, a man with a distinctly English posture and bearing wandered into the assembled mass of fiery republicans, instantly causing a sudden delicate frostiness.

Huntington-Fauntleroy's orange skirt immediately made him stand out from the other republicans.

“Yes, quite right!” shouted the British republican Cedric Huntington-Fauntleroy, his clear English enunciation cutting through the thick mumbled accents of the crowd like a joke by Prince Philip at a convention for political correctness. “Down with the monarchy, I say!”

Huntington-Fauntleroy then adopted the classic Marquess of Queensbury pose and hit the air with a few left jabs followed by a right cross before looking around in satisfaction at his fellow air-punchers, who were slowly lowering their hands and backing away in confusion.

“Wha’ de fook…?” asked a gobsmacked Marty Delaney (43), leader of the protest, as the tricolour wrapped around his shoulders slid off to reveal a Manchester United jersey.

“Oh, haha, that’s it, my good man, don’t be afraid to turn the air blue, what?” shouted Huntington-Fauntleroy, hitting the bewildered air with a classical right hook. “Damn the Queen’s English – let us have the English of the common man, of republicanism!”

The crowd looked at each other uncertainly and then to Marty Delaney for some kind of guidance. “Are you sure you’re in de roight place?” asked Delaney.

Huntington-Fauntleroy has been a republican since he was blackballed by the royal polo club.

“Oh, wouldn’t miss it!” said Huntington-Fauntleroy jauntily. “I had no idea such a gathering was afoot, but whoever wishes to protest the iniquitous privileges of those antiquated institutions, the monarchy and the aristocracy, has found a bosom companion in Cedric Huntington-Fauntleroy.”

“Rouse the rabble on, good fellow!” he shouted as the air turned still.

The awkward silence apparently stretched for a full minute, broken only by an occasional cough. One of the remaining black balloons deflated quietly on stage with a slow sighing gasp and many in the crowd fixed their attention on it until it was just a limp, wrinkled sack of latex.

Huntington-Fauntleroy himself became aware that his presence had yet again, and for reasons he never quite understood, caused the party to come grinding to a halt. But, in the classic British manner, having introduced himself he could not simply say goodbye without having made some kind of acceptable small talk, however excruciating for all concerned.

“And who are these chaps over here?” he asked, pointing to a group of protesters across the street. “Are they with us?”

Sadly, Éirígí (Arise) seemed unaware of the Swiftean irony of having a sit-down protest.

Another awkward silence hung over them all like a tombstone seen from the bottom of an unfilled grave, before one lone voice finally answered from the back. “Dey’re de socialist republican democrats,” said a strong Dublin accent. “Deir name’s Éirígí. It means ‘Arise.’ Dey’re having a sit-down protest.”

“Hoho!” chortled Huntington-Fauntleroy. “What wit! Reminiscent of Swift and Wilde, eh? Éirígí!” he shouted across the street, gesturing for the sit-down protesters to stand up. “Éirígí, hahaha,” he guffawed, before realising that perhaps it wasn’t meant as a piece of Swiftean satire and the humour drained slowly from his face as the awkward silence descended once more like a black cloud of unending gloom.

Whole minutes passed with nothing but the sound of shuffling shoes to fill them. Then the Queen and Prince Philip drove by, waved to the deathly silent crowd, and disappeared round the corner.

“Well, must be off,” said Huntington-Fauntleroy, seeing his chance. He tipped his hat and scooted away, while the listless crowd dispersed slowly, knowing that nothing had changed, and that Ireland would never truly escape the frightfully well-mannered but socially awkward yoke of the British aristocracy.

After Run of Defeats, Queen Commits to Beating Ireland at Hurling by 2025

Buckingham Palace, London – After watching Ireland successively humiliate England in cricket, racing, and rugby, the Queen called today for the people of England to devote all their energies to beating the Irish at hurling by 2025.

Queen Elizabeth II watches Ireland destroy England's Grand Slam hopes.

“Too long has one let the Irish taunt one at one’s own games,” declared the Queen with the thin-lipped bitterness of someone who lost a fair bit of her pension when the Irish swept the card on the opening day of Cheltenham.

“And it avails one nought to beat them in return, for they care not for the sports themselves. The gentle smack of leather on willow, the masterful riding of heaving stallions, the sweaty pursuit of oddly shaped balls – these simple yet beloved English pastimes are not valued by the Irish. They care only for the gloating when they win.”

“Paddy does love to have good old gloat,” added the Queen in a burning whisper as she replayed the final overs of Ireland’s famous defeat of the English cricket team in her mind.

“But one cannot have the posterior of one’s most royal sporting dignity so brazenly molested by a bunch of Micks, in full view of the world,” continued the Queen. “We must hit them where it hurts – in their sliotars.”

“I call on the people of England to devote all their energies to beating the Irish at hurling by 2025.”

A leather-clad Willow said she hoped the English found a new pastime soon.

News of the Queen’s speech at first raised mocking laughter across Ireland, swiftly followed by a deep sense of unease.

“Haahaha!” guffawed legendary hurling manager Ger Loughnane when he heard it. “Impossible! I’d love to see them try.”

“Although,” he added, scratching his head, “hurling hasn’t exactly had the best few years here. I mean, there’s only Kilkenny left in Leinster, the North may as well be playing tiddlywinks, and Connacht hasn’t got enough wood to make a single hurley.”

“And an awful lot of good young players have headed off to England because of the recession,” he added gloomily. “Jesus, you know, if they made all them English and set up a league for them, they wouldn’t be half bad.”

Loughnane shuddered involuntarily at the thought of the Queen hoisting the McCarthy Cup over Croke Park. “Ah, no, Ger, cop on, get a grip,” he muttered to himself. “Sure, it couldn’t really happen, could it?”

In a bid to forestall even the possibility that the English might put together a decent team and challenge for the All-Ireland championships, new Taoiseach Enda Kenny apologised to the English people for any recent upsets.

Kenny winked and said his discussions with the Queen on the hurling issue had been positive.

“We would, you know, like to say, cap in hand and hand on heart and heart in mouth, sure, that without eating our hats we’re sorry about batin’ ye out of shite recently in all sorts of sports,” said Kenny with his usual off-the-cuff mastery of the English language.

“I hope we can maintain our gentleman’s aggrievement that we only play the sports that matter to the English, and in which defeat doesn’t bother us at all.”

The Queen, however, was having none of Kenny’s confusing attempt to weasel Ireland out of its difficulties.

“Oh, it’s ON,” answered the Queen, glaring directly into the camera. “It’s on, bitches. You can’t go around trying to pretend that it’s not on, when it very much fucking is on.”

“IT’S ON!” repeated the Queen, before setting fire to a toy leprechaun’s crotch and clubbing it to death with the microphone.

Ireland's sliotars wait hopelessly for the English backlash.

Under the Queen’s direction, England has now organised Ireland’s ex-patriot hurlers into a nationwide league with a minimum wage of €50,000 for each player, a national academy of excellence for promising youngsters, and regular coverage on Sky.

A shellshocked Ger Loughnane reviewed England’s plans for hurling domination and acknowledged that Ireland couldn’t hope to compete with the English Premier Hurling League.

“That’s the bitch about being Irish,” said Loughnane bitterly. “Even the good stuff, like beating the English, rebounds to hit you right in the sliotars.”

As FF Gets 17.4%, Calls Grow for Reform of National Anthem

Dublin – The Irish have long had to put up with the stereotype of being stupid, but this weekend’s election results have allowed scientists to measure the number of morons among the adult population at exactly 387,408, the number of people who voted for Fianna Fáil.

Research shows the stereotypical stupid Irish man accounts for 17.4% of the population.

Having governed for the last 14 years, Fianna Fáil openly shot the Celtic Tiger by failing to regulate the financial industry, ignoring a massive property bubble, eroding the tax base, allowing public sector wages to balloon out of control, and when confronted by the inevitable collapse of the economy issuing a blanket bank guarantee that left the Irish taxpayer on the hook for €145 billion.

Despite bankrupting the nation through its own appalling incompetence and corruption, Fianna Fáil secured 387,408 votes in the general election, confirming that the stereotype of the stupid Irish has some basis in fact.

“17.4% is an awful lot of dingbats for any population,” said Prof. Harriet Feehan (57), professor of social psychology at UCC, looking perplexedly at the figures. “I mean, we would expect the number of total retards in any nation to be somewhere from 5-10%. Ireland, however, has almost double that number of mentally defective imbeciles.”

“There’s got to be some other factor in play here,” she said, frowning in concentration.

After a long brainstorming session with her colleagues, Feehan stumbled across a horrifying possibility. “When the thought first came to me, my blood ran cold,” she said, shivering at the memory. “I was afraid to even say it, but I knew it was true.”

"Would FF really do something this monstrous to their own people? Where have you been?!" snorted Feehan.

“But it’s monstrous, absolutely monstrous…” she stopped, looking up in disbelief. “I mean, what organisation would do something so irremediably evil to its own people?”

She looked out the window at a poster of Micheál Martin saying ‘Real Plan. Better Future.’ “God, who am I talking about?” she asked despairingly. “Of course they did it. Jesus H. Christ.”

Feehan’s research clearly demonstrates that, for decades, Fianna Fáil have successfully brainwashed the Irish people with the first line of the national anthem.

“It’s ingenious,” she admitted, taking a deep drag from her cigarette. “I mean, all anyone knows is the first line – ‘Sinne Fianna Fáil’ – then everyone hums along until they get near the end and can starting shouting ‘Come on, Ireland!’ and stuff like that.”

“When you do that on every national occasion, every major sporting occasion, and at the end of every pub gig and karaoke night, pretty soon what you have are a nation of idiots who think we should all be Fianna Fáil.”

Bertie Ahern leads the people in the national brainwashing before a major GAA game.

Lab tests on traditional Fianna Fáil voters rapidly proved the hypothesis to be correct.

“I’m a proud patriot, and a proud Fianna Fáil man, and I’ll be a proud Irish Fianna Fáil man until I die!” thundered local halfwit Tomás O’Leary (50), a big red-faced farmer from Macroom. “I won’t vote for any of those ould blueshirts and Commies.”

“Sinne Fianna Fáil!” he bellowed, before humming along wordlessly through the next few bars and finally erupting in deafening roars of “C’mon Cork!”

“Frightening, isn’t it?” observed Prof. Feehan as she watched through the two-way mirror.

However, Fianna Fáil’s traditional death grip on the Irish imagination has weakened to a mere 17.4% because of the introduction in the late 1990s of a new anthem, Ireland’s Call, to be sung at rugby matches as a compromise with northern Unionists.

Initially rejected by many, Ireland’s Call has become popular due its rousing melody and comprehensible lyrics in a language most Irish people can understand.

Patriots put the lyrics of Ireland's Call on Croke Park's big screen to break the national brainwashing.

“Obviously it takes time for something like this to have an effect,” said Prof. Feehan. “But the effect is clear. Fianna Fáil hasn’t changed; it was always corrupt and incompetent and made Ireland the only third world country in Western Europe.

“What changed is the brainwashing effect of the national anthem has weakened sufficiently for most people to break free.”

“Now we have to reform the national anthem, and help the remaining 17.4% of mindless zombie Fianna Fáil voters regain their senses and possibly even contribute to the community – by not voting for Fianna Fáil.”

“If it wasn’t for those patriotic Unionists in the North, Ireland may never have broken free,” she said with a shudder.

Although many have expressed skepticism, Feehan maintains that no other logical answer to the 17.4% enigma exists. “I know it all sounds outlandish,” said Feehan, stubbing out her cigarette, “but do you have any other explanation for how Fianna Fáil could have gotten 17.4% in this election?”

Fight Begins for Last 166 Jobs in Ireland

Rep. of Ireland – The nation’s favourite reality TV show, The General Election, begins today with 566 contestants fighting to claim the last 166 jobs in Ireland.

The General Election, a traditionally popular TV extravaganza, asks the people of Ireland to choose every five years the lucky 166 people who will be given a bucket load of cash every year, plus a secure pension, for doing absolutely nothing.

"Election 2011 - The Last 166 Jobs in Ireland" is expected to draw millions of viewers.

Traditionally advertised as being ‘the best jobs for the laziest hoors in Ireland,’ this year’s General Election will have the added attraction of advertising the last jobs in Ireland.

Reality TV analyst Knowall Whelan said: “This is shaping up to be the best show we’ve ever had. What with the country collapsing and thousands of people leaving for foreign shores every month, the competition for the last 166 jobs will be fierce.”

“After all, for the losers nothing awaits except the coffin ships to the States,” pronounced Whelan, “so it really is a matter of life and death for the candidates. If they don’t get in as TDs today, they’ll be in the same boats as the rest of us.”

“I’m tellin’ you,” he chortled, “no one wants to wake up tomorrow as an ordinary citizen of Ireland!”

Ireland has traditionally favoured fat red-faced men from FF, for inexplicable reasons.

For a long time the nation has overwhelmingly chosen fat, red-faced men from Fianna Fáil to be the winners of The General Election. However, the public has grown tired of fat, red-faced men recently due to overexposure to previous winners Bertie Ahern and Brian Cowen, and there is a feeling that a change would reinvigorate the show’s popularity.

“It’s time for women to have a bigger presence in The General Election,” declared liberal TV critic Elaine Burn. “Women need to support and encourage strong female candidates like Lucinda Creighton to ensure greater equality for all Irish citizens.”

Creighton, the Equalities spokeswoman for Fine Gael, then came out against gay marriage in a Tweet that read: “I think marriage is primarily about children, main purpose being to propagate & create environment for children to grow up. I think civil partnership should ensure gay couples r treated fairly and justly re tax inheritance etc & recognition by the State But marriage is different.”

“That fucking bitch!” snapped Burn when she read the Tweet. “Riding around in her fuck-me boots – what did she suck to get the Equalities position in Fine Gael?”

“If I see her on the street I’m going to bitch-slap her and yank her badly-dyed blond hair out.”

"I'll give you one guess what she sucked to get that post," snarled Elaine Burn spitefully.

With passions running high, the public is looking forward to seeing sparks fly, particularly from maverick outsiders trying to make one final impression.

“We need honesty and integrity in public life,” bellowed Gerry Adams, head of Sinn Féin. “Fianna Fáil and the bankers and developers have robbed this country blind and lied to us all the way. If you vote for me, I’ll find out their secrets; I’ll find out where the bodies are buried and I’ll find out what happened to the money in our banks.”

Labour’s Eamon Gilmore was originally a leading frontrunner in the early stages, but his support has dwindled as the public realised he too is a fat, red-faced man. The almost certain winner of The General Election, much to the disappointment of all, will be a middle-aged Mayo farmer, Enda Kenny.

“It’s just like the Lotto,” sighed Knowall Whelan. “You get all excited when there’s a big jackpot, then it goes to some ould lad from the West who has no idea what to do with it.”

A middle-aged Mayo farmer celebrates victory, much to everyone's disappointment.

Some voters remain unimpressed by the hype, however. “Every five years we get all het up over this General Election nonsense,” grumbled Henry Gardner (62) as he walked down to the polling station.

“If Ireland actually had any vibrant, dynamic young people left, they would have been on the streets protesting against the bankruptcy of the nation. Did you see anyone protesting? No. That’s because we don’t have any vibrant, dynamic young people.”

“We vote for the fat, red-faced, lazy hoors because that’s who we are,” he said, before ticking the box for Fianna Fáil and stalking out of the polling booth.

Nation Agrees Final Leadership Debate Won by O’Callaghan

Dublin – After watching last night’s final leadership debate before the election, the Irish people were almost unanimous in agreeing it had been comprehensively won by Miriam O’Callaghan.

Presenter Miriam O’Callaghan showed a tremendous grasp of policy and the important questions facing the nation, and also projected an air of calm confidence and control, while Enda Kenny, Micheál Martin, and Eamon Gilmore looked increasingly like men completely out of their depth.

Miriam O'Callaghan comfortably beat the aborted foetus, the plank of wood, and the well-shaven Santa.

“Of course she’s also a very telegenic woman,” said Pat Johnson (54), in a gathering of voters in Dublin S.E. to discuss the debate. “Whereas Enda Kenny looks like a well-varnished plank of wood, Eamon Gilmore looks like Santa with the beard shaved off, and Micheál Martin looks like an aborted foetus.”

“But it was really her grasp of important policy issues that impressed me,” he said, to nods all round. “She was the only one trying to discuss the really big problems facing the country. And you’d never have heard her saying, ‘Check the RTE website for details,’ or spending her whole time attacking other people because she had nothing to say herself.”

“She’s got my No. 1 on Friday,” he concluded, pounding his fist on the table.

Others were impressed by her ability to maintain control amid the irritating bickering and squabbling. Laura Brogan (67) said that Ireland really needed an experienced mother like Miriam O’Callaghan to take charge of the Dáil.

O'Callaghan has long been famous for her ability to control Ireland's notoriously badly behaved politicians.

“Sure, what did we see last night only three men throwing tantrums and launching toys out of their prams at each other? Gilmore would have pulled Martin’s hair over the HSE, if he had any, while Enda spent the whole debate so scared that Martin would belt him in the face he wouldn’t even make eye contact.”

“But as a mother of eight, Miriam was well able to keep them in hand, although I think she should have given that Martin lad a clip round the ear and told him to cop onto himself. But we’ll need someone like that to keep the Dáil in line when there’s 166 of them in one room, all bawling and raging over who took their pocket money away.”

“Miriam is the right woman for the job,” she said stoutly.

The three men in the debate were considered particularly uninspiring in comparison.

“Has Micheál Martin no sense of shame?” thundered Mark Ryan (34), looking around incredulously. “There he was, yapping away at the end of the table, accusing the other parties of dishonesty. Dishonesty! As if his government hadn’t personally lied to the country about the IMF. We had to have reporters go out on the street asking foreigners in business suits: ‘Are you the IMF?’ in order to get the truth.”

Most agreed that Martin deserved a clip round the ear from O'Callaghan for his boorish heckling and hypocrisy.

“And what about his statement that the Dutch were unhappy with their healthcare system? God, I had no idea our country was overrun with Dutch medical tourists coming here just to take advantage of the HSE. They must keep a very low profile, unlike the IMF.”

“So we had one group of lads who weren’t in the country despite the fact everyone could see them and another group who apparently are flooding the country even though they’re invisible.”

“What’s his plan for economic recovery? Raid the strategic leprechaun gold reserve?” snorted Mr. Ryan. “If he thinks I’m voting for him ahead of Miriam O’Callaghan, he’s more deluded than his own economic growth forecasts.”

While Martin’s astonishing levels of hypocrisy throughout the debate took centre stage, many were also unimpressed with Enda Kenny’s impersonation of Dustin the Turkey.

“If I wanted to see a man with someone else’s hand up his arse putting words in his mouth, I’d watch The Den,” declared Theresa Prior (26). “Sure what’s he going to do for us in Europe? Do you think Angela Merkel has someone’s hand up her arse? She’s the puppet master; she’d have Enda back here squawking about how we need to give money to support autobahn construction in the former East, while we’re eating nettle soup.”

Dustin the Turkey has a bad track record in Europe, but may still be a safer bet than Enda Kenny.

Labour leader Eamon Gilmore’s soft core emotional rhetoric about families made many people nauseous.

“Oh, won’t somebody please think of the family?” mocked Ms. Prior, to great laughter. “Oh ye aging housewives of Ireland, please vote for Eamon Gilmore and the family!”

All present laughed appreciatively, as they had the security of knowing that at least one person at the debate looked capable of running the country.

“God only knows what we’d do without Miriam,” sighed Laura Brogan. “I’d hate to think of the country being run by any of those other three gobshites.”

After 14 Years, Micheál Martin Finally Promises to Clean Out Garage

Cork – After fourteen years of sitting on his arse doing nothing about the mess he’s made in the garage, Fianna Fáil leader Micheál Martin today said that he was finally going to clean it out – much to the skepticism of his wife.

During his time in government, Mr. Martin and his gang of Fianna Fáilers have used the garage as a dumping ground for empty brown manila envelopes, Galway Races betting slips funded by property developers, golf scorecards with Seanie Fitzgerald’s signature, and even the decomposing remains of Bertie Ahern, Brian Cowen, and Mary Harney.

Micheal Martin reflects on the damage he and his Fianna Fail friends have done to the garage.

Now the neighbours have had enough of the foul rotting stench of decay arising from the garage and insist it be cleaned out.

Said Mr. Martin: “For the first time in an Irish neighbourhood the issue of garage reform is taking centre stage. Unfortunately too much of the debate is about gimmicks which will have little or no real impact. Only I, with the aid of my loyal Fianna Fáil cohorts, can truly clean give us the clean, neat, efficient garage we need for the 21^st century.”

Martin’s wife, Mary O’Shea, stubbed out her cigarette and disdainfully blew smoke into his face. “You’ve been throwing junk into that garage for the last 14 years!” she snapped irritably. “And your Fianna Fáil cohorts were the ones helping you do it. If ye hadn’t made such an arse of it in the first place, we wouldn’t have had to sell the car and there wouldn’t be rats eating the kids’ lunch.”

“It’s no wonder the neighbours are so pissed off at us,” she said, looking warily out the window at a bunch of protesters demanding that the Martins and their shady Fianna Fáil gangster friends be evicted.

“Perhaps we should ask that nice Enda Kenny for help, or maybe even Eamon Gilmore,” she said with a sigh. “Or even Gerry Adams, if we get totally fucking desperate – and we pretty much are.”

"How can you trust someone to clean up a mess if they don't know how to make one?" asked Martin with Cork logic.

Mr. Martin looked visibly shocked at the idea that anyone else would be allowed to clean up the garage he and his Fianna Fáil colleagues had had exclusive use of for over a decade.

“But over the last week a clear difference has emerged between Fianna Fáil and the other parties in relation to how we intend to clean to garage,” argued Martin, hurt. “Each of the other parties is proposing to leave our current system of garage government effectively unchanged.”

“In contrast, our proposals would involve a transformation of our garage.”

Mary O’Shea rolled her eyes and prayed for strength. “Yeah, your proposals for cleaning look garage look great,” she said sarcastically. “Now here’s a mop and bucket – why don’t you get started with it?”

Mr. Martin hastily backed away from the vicious instruments of proletarian rebellion. “Now, now, let’s not just rush in without thinking. Reforming our garage space is an important decision. We can’t just run in and start doing things.”

Striking the statesmanlike pose of a man handing a bowl of shamrocks to the US president, Martin explained how he would clean the garage.

"I'll get round to the garage in a minute!" procrastinated Martin, while his wife glared at him.

“We will have real reform of the garage and garage management only when we are willing to rethink key structures which have been in place for most of our history and let us be in charge of the garage. We will have real refom of the garage only when we are willing to move beyond gimmicks about numbers and costs and brown envelopes and dead bodies and implement measures to make garage management more representative and more expert and accountable and Fianna Fáil.”

His wife slammed down the mop and bucket in disgust. “You’re only fucking sayin’ that because you think they’re going to take it off you,” she said. “And they should, given the mess you made out the place. Now will you go out there and start fucking cleaning or not?”

Mr. Martin lifted his hands helplessly . “I’ll clean it when I have a mandate from the people to do so,” he said sincerely. “I promise I will, really. You can trust me.”

“I’m the only man who can reclaim the garage from hooligans like me and the other Yahoos in Fianna Fáil.”

FG Major Change from FF, says Enda Kenny

Secret FG Election HQ – Speaking by telephone from an anonymous location where he can be safely kept away from the media, Fine Gael leader Enda Kenny today insisted that in the upcoming election Ireland could make no more radical change from FF than FG.

Kenny (left) said an FG-Labour alliance would radically change the Old Boys' Club of Irish politics.

A muffled voice reading from a pre-prepared script intoned: “The Irish people demand change. They are sick of the way FF has run this country as its own personal fiefdom since independence. In the 21^st century, we need a new kind of party, something radically different from FF – FG.”

Unlike other European countries with their left-right political party balance, Ireland is so Catholic its two major political parties are both centre-right, reflecting a traditionally reverential attitude to power even as it openly buggers our children’s arses.

Now FF has utterly gorged itself on national buggery, the nation is looking to FG, which currently leads the polls in the run-up to the election despite being led by the hapless Enda Kenny, the only political leader in the Western world dumb enough to have openly used the word ‘nigger’ as part of a joke while chatting with the press.

To make matters worse, the ‘nigger’ in question was the then recently assassinated Prime Minister of Congo Patrice Lumamba, thus making Kenny the only leader in the world dumb enough to dance on the grave of a martyr for democracy and human rights while calling him a ‘nigger.’

"Is that the nigger who got shot in the Congo?" asked Kenny curiously.

Such is the desperate state of Irish politics, however, that Kenny is now almost certain to become the next Taoiseach.

Asked if his impending election high office were not a sign of how broken and defeated Ireland was, Kenny shuffled his pre-written pages looking for something to say.

“There can be no greater change from FF than FG,” repeated Enda Kenny, re-reading bits of the script while he searched for a pre-set phrase. “We’re a different, more progressive letter of the alphabet. F stands for failure, farting, funerals, and all kinds of bad things while G stands for good, gold, goals, etc. It’s a whole different mindset.”

FG political minders raced around the pressroom in panic as it became obvious that Ireland’s impending political leader was now, horrifyingly, acting on his own initiative.

“We have plans, you know, big plans, smart plans,” wittered Kenny, continuing on like a man in a dream heading for the cliff but unable to stop. “We want a Dutch-style privately-funded health insurance system, while our likely coalition partners Labour want a publicly-funded system. Our smart plan is to not discuss this in front of voters and just come to some kind of half-assed compromise among ourselves.”

Many voters felt 'FU' was a much more apt acronym for an Irish political party.

“Then we’ll just present the voters with our totally fudged fait accompli and they can lump it. That’s how we’ll be different from FF.”

“And the people voting for Sinn Féin are just throwing their votes away. Sure, they’re only a bunch of knackers, lads!” exclaimed Kenny as FG went into full red-alert crisis mode.

“And this new FF front bench is only a bit of codology about diversity and youth and women’s empowerment. Sure, behind all those knickers are the same old FF pricks. And if you scratch the paint off their token nigger you’ll find he’s FF to the bone.”

“No,” said Kenny, sounding rather pleased with how well he’d survived this particular encounter with the media, “FG is yer only man if you want real change. Vote Enda Kenny for Taoiseach.”

“You know it’s the right choice.”

Sinn Féin Announces Economic Recovery Plan: “Import Protestants.”

Dublin – Speaking today at a press conference in Dublin, Sinn Féin leader Gerry Adams outlined a bold new economic recovery plan that will restore Ireland’s stricken economy by encouraging the mass migration of Protestants.

Gerry Adams outlined a new Protestant vision for Ireland in his speech.

Said Adams: “It’s clear to me and to many other Irish people that the roots of the current crisis lie not in global financial markets but in poor decisions made by corrupt elites in our failed political system.”

“And our failed political system is a product of our traditional Catholic culture, which encourages deference to authority, tight trousers for altar boys, and a self-righteous attitude to materialism.”

“That’s why the only route back for Ireland is to move beyond Catholicism by massively importing Protestants to take charge of the country’s political, economic, religious, and social institutions.”

Adams called the press conference in response to criticisms that he was completely “ignorant of economics,” after he mistakenly called Ireland’s largest bank Allied Irish Bank “IIB” and said Sinn Féin’s economic policy was to reject the vital €85 billion EU/IMF bailout and organise the national economy around the production of blackberry jam using hamster-powered electric motors.

Determined to illustrate that he knew a great deal about economics, Adams spent much of the press conference waving a dog-eared copy of Max Weber’s The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism.

“It’s all explained in this book,” said Adams, with the zeal of a recently converted disciple. “Protestant societies are built around a coherent work ethic that values life-long efforts to build home and community while Catholic societies are full of shiftless, corrupt individuals hoping a quick Hail Mary will excuse their laziness and relentless fornication.”

The joy of the Protestant work ethic was captured in Grant Wood's 'American Gothic'.

“Just look at the EU countries suffering serious financial crises: three Catholic countries – Ireland, Spain, and Portugal – and one Orthodox, Greece. Protestant countries like Germany and Australia just sailed through thanks to their strong Calvinist teachings.”

Adams then explained that we could see the consequences of national religious spirit right here on our own little isle.

“Just look at the difference between the Republic of Ireland and Northern Ireland!” exclaimed Adams. “Do you see Northern Ireland going cap in hand to the IMF? No you do not! That’s because of our strong Protestant work ethic.”

“Nor do we have the same level of corruption!” continued Adams fiercely. “I tell you, Ian Paisley may have been a bigoted fascist demagogue, but he was no Bertie Ahern.”

“He was as honest and straightforward with the public finances as he was with his religious intolerance.”

“Nor have Northern voters ever been tempted by that slavering whore for power – Fianna Fáil,” said Adams. “Any good Protestant could see through that shower of Papist gombeen men a mile away, whereas the Catholics in the Republic were too busy having unprotected sex.”

Adams said the Plantation of Ulster was the only successful attempt at reform in Irish history.

Sinn Féin hopes to attract millions of Protestant immigrants by seizing land from wasteful Catholics and giving it freely to productive new Calvinists.

The dispossessed Catholics will be encouraged to move to Connacht, where they may enjoy a rich nettle-based vegetable diet amid the barren lands of the stony west.

“What we’re calling for is a New Plantation,” said Adams with visionary enthusiasm. “Really, the only people to try and bring common sense and rational government to this country were great leaders like Queen Elizabeth I and Oliver Cromwell. They knew the secret – get rid of Irish Catholics and replace them with genuinely useful human beings.”

Public response to the proposal was largely positive, on the grounds that at least it was a strategy for dealing with the crisis, which is more than any of the other parties have offered.

Triumphant Cowen Wields Excalibur at Terror Stricken Cabinet, Dáil

Dublin – Under a blazing full moon, the fantasy world of Fianna Fáil collided with reality this week, hurling its inhabitants into a horrifying new dimension that has left many in tears.

Delusional Fianna Fáil dimwits exulted in Cowen seizing Excalibur Tuesday night, little realising what that meant.

On Tuesday night, to the awe of his huddled Fianna Fáil squires, Brian Cowen wondrously pulled Excalibur from its stone bed, thereby asserting his right to be the High King of Fianna Fáil, and with it the minor post of Taoiseach of Ireland.

In the two days since, he has wielded Excalibur mercilessly to smite his enemies, and the enemies of the Irish people – primarily himself.

“This is a vindication of my leadership!” said Cowen triumphantly as he held the sword aloft on Tuesday night. As those who live in reality slowly backed away from the power-crazed maniac wielding the blade, the denizens of Fianna Fáil-world foolishly crowded around their leader, mistakenly believing that he was their knight in polyester armour.

They were soon disabused of the notion as Cowen began lopping heads off. “Take that, Martin!” he said, sending his chief opponent’s head rolling before seizing the Ministry for Foreign Affairs duchy.

“This one I think I’ll keep for myself,” he said magnanimously, pocketing the third-most important post in the kingdom.

As the people of Ireland continued slowly backing away towards the boats for Canada and Australia, the poor delusional souls of Fianna Fáil-world reasoned to themselves that any king has to lop off a head or two to establish his authority.

The Little Green Midgets, a pesky bunch of royal courtiers from a tiny neighbouring fiefdom, agreed that a couple of heads would be fine, even helpfully pointing out the frantically shaking head of Dermot Ahern, Minister for Justice.

Sadly, Ireland's little green midgets don't have the courage and wisdom of Yoda.

“Did I fucking ask you what you fucking thought?” asked King Biffo, advancing threateningly on the Little Green Midgets, to the cackling joy of his unsuspecting Fianna Fáil courtiers. “What business is it of yours whose fucking head I lop off? It’s the Taoiseach’s prerogative!” he thundered, suddenly hacking at the sullen stone head off Mary Harney, Minister for Health.

Curiously, he could only inflict a flesh wound on her teak-tough skin, but the health services are in such a bad state that Harney died of gangrene anyway, ironically vindicating King Biffo’s rash, power-mad decision.

Here’s a list of the fucking heads I’m taking,” Biffo said. “Killeen, go and tell them.”

Minister for Defence Tony Killeen ran forward with a scroll, opened it, and announced: “Minister for Transport Noel Dempsey, Minister for Justice Dermot Ahern, and… um, ah, M-M-Minister for D-D-Defence Tony Killeen,” said Killeen uncertainly, turning to his beloved leader. “But, surely, your Majesty, there must be some mistake…” he stammered as the sword came down on his neck.

Killeen’s hapless attempt to save himself ironically proved that King Biffo might have had a point and Killeen wasn’t the right man to be Minister for Defence.

Terrified, his Fianna Fáil minions suddenly realised that with no Justice, Defence, or Health Service, there was no way to survive Biffo’s insane wrath. On top of that, with no Transport or Foreign Ministry, there was no way to escape, either.

The priceless look on O'Keeffe's decapitated head, just after King Biffo attacked.

“And I’ve never liked your fucking head,” Biffo said, as an afterthought lopping the head off Minister for Enterprise and Trade Batt O’Keeffe.

Actually, this turned out to be another relatively good idea, as O’Keeffe has been instrumental in destroying Irish enterprise and trade, so his sudden demise gave Irish interest rates and market shares a timely boost.

Soaked in blood and gore, laughing crazily at all those around him, Cowen howled at the full moon and declared himself the Last of the High Kings.

The surviving Fianna Fáil minions ran gibbering to the people of Ireland, begging for mercy. “We’re sorry, we’re sorry!” they yelped. “We know that we voted him in in 2008, and God help us we even did it again on Tuesday night, but save us, please save us!” they cried tearfully, collapsing in a wailing heap on the plinth outside Leinster House.

For now, Cowen will still have power at least until the next full moon, while the people wait fearfully to see how much more damage he can do with the sword Excalibur so foolishly left in his hands by the delusional half-wits of Fianna Fáil-world.

Nation Delighted to Get Its Chance to Give Cowen ‘Confidence’ Vote

Dublin – There was great joy around the country last night as Taoiseach Brian Cowen survived a confidence vote within Fianna Fáil, thereby ensuring that he will have to face the people’s ‘confidence vote’ in a couple of months.

“Couldn’t be happier!” declared Fiona Sheehan (31), an unemployed hairdresser outside a pub in Temple Bar. “The thought that that fat frog was going to slink off the stage before the serious tomato pelting of Fianna Fáil began was eating me up inside.”

Cowen waves to a cheering public, completely misunderstanding why they're so happy.

The assembled crowd, while acknowledging that Fianna Fáil as a whole must share the blame for destroying the foundations of the Irish economy, singled out Cowen as the turd who ludicrously agreed to a blanket guarantee of all bank debts without knowing how much those debts were, thereby bankrupting the country and making it a ward of the IMF and the EU.

“Like all Irish people, I want him to be front and centre when we unleash our verdict on his government’s performance and now I know he will be,” said Ms. Sheehan.

“This one’s for you, Biffo!” she said, holding up a particularly large and rancid tomato to cheers of approval from the crowd.

Last night’s vote was part of a curious tribal ritual in which members of Fianna Fáil retreat into a shadow world that seems to be the inverse of reality. As members of Fianna Fáil came out to speak, the crowd watching it all on TV at Maguire’s in Temple Bar puzzled over their statements, amazed at how alien life was in Fianna Fáil-world.

“It’s never the wrong time to do the right thing,” declared Cowen pompously, despite his track record showing he has always found the right time to do the wrong thing, thereby maximising the damage it does.

“We have been fighting for the country [and] for its very survival against the greatest economic and financial crisis we have seen in over 80 years,” continued the Taoiseach from his strange parallel Fianna Fáil universe.

The fruits of Fianna Fail's struggle for the country.

After much debate, the people agreed this was Fianna Fáil’s way of saying that they were fighting for what’s left of the country against the greatest economic and financial crisis Fianna Fáil had ever caused in over 80 years.

Government Chief Whip John Curran said, “There’s a line in the sand and we can move forward,” seemingly unaware that to move forward from a line in the sand means walking into the sea in a mass drowning.

Again, after much confusion, the consensus emerged that this was meant positively, because in Fianna Fáil-world everything is the inverse of reality.

“God, it would do your head in listening to them talk,” said Ms. Sheehan’s brother Gavin, who is emigrating to Canada next month. “I mean, what on Earth do they think is going on in this country? Have they no idea what they’ve done to us?”

Up to 150,000 people are expected to emigrate next year, not counting the many immigrants who are simply leaving because there is no more work. With rising taxes, reduced welfare, rising unemployment and falling wages, Ireland is set for years of grinding recession, much of the blame for which lies with the disastrous economic management of Brian Cowen and the Fianna Fáil party.

Salvador Dali made heroic efforts throughout his career to depict Fianna Fail-world.

“The party is united behind Brian Cowen as leader and we move forward with the National Recovery Plan and preparations for a general election,” said Chief Whip John Curran, seemingly jubilant at the idea of a party with a 14% approval rating still being led by a man with an 8% approval rating.

“Brian Cowen is humorous, intelligent, and generous to a fault,” said Minister for Finance Brian Lenihan supportively, seemingly unaware that Cowen’s generosity with the national finances is the fault people are most upset by. The reference to his humour and intelligence was again taken as the inverse of the obvious truth about Cowen’s sulky, anti-intellectual personality.

As the surreal parade of warped realities continued, the public tuned out, happy that Cowen would still be there come election day, when he could face a confidence vote from people who actually live in reality.

“I’ve been waiting a long time for the chance to give him my confidence vote,” concluded Ms. Sheehan with balled fists. “Right in the fucking nuts.”