Disappointed Nation Gets Socks, Gift Voucher, AIB for Xmas

Dublin – We get out of bed every Christmas Day with such high hopes for what will be under the tree, only to find another hand-knitted jumper and a Lindsay Lohan DVD.

This year was no exception for the people of Ireland, who received the depressing trinity of a new pair of socks, a gift voucher for Amazon, and a part share in Ireland’s largest bank, the newly nationalised Allied Irish Bank.

Darragh O'Shea can't conceal his excitement at getting the nationalisation of AIB for Xmas.

Darragh O'Shea can't conceal his excitement at getting the nationalisation of AIB for Xmas.

“Yeah, thanks,” said Darragh O’Shea (19) unenthusiastically, on behalf of the nation. O’Shea, a student at UCD, muttered that he was delighted with the gifts as he flicked through the TV channels.

“Oh, now, it’s not all that bad,” scolded his mother Mrs. Kathy O’Shea (46). “You can show a little bit more gratitude than that. Those thick socks will come in very useful in this snowy weather, and you can use that gift voucher to buy that computer game you were looking for.”

She sighed and looked at the third one. “And, well… they mean well, don’t they?” she said without any conviction, trying to put a positive spin on the government’s third gift of Christmas.

The government came round to deliver the gifts in a painfully awkward Xmas meeting that everyone dreads but annually has to grin and bear. “There ye are now,” said Minister for Finance Brian Lenihan, proudly handing everyone in the nation the news that we now own one of the world’s most insolvent, debt-ridden banks. “That’ll be very useful next year, when we need somewhere to keep all the money we don’t have anymore. Hope ye enjoy it, lads!” he said merrily, while the nation forced some fake smiles of gratitude.

“Happy Christmas from Fianna Fáil!”

AIB is so broke it no longer has a building to go with this sign.

AIB is so broke it no longer has a building to go with this sign.

AIB had been one of Ireland’s largest and most successful banks, snorting lines of credit until it was totally high on the stock market during the boom, before coming down with a monumental crash that has left it begging its own customers for a handout to keep it going.

“The government’s full of ould lads who are at least two years out of date,” said Darragh dismissively. “I mean, this might have been a good present two years ago. Instead they gave us that stupid NAMA thing, which ended up costing us a fortune to keep running.”

“Now they’ve gone and nationalised the banks anyway, which they could have just done in 2008 and dispensed with that NAMA crap. Now we have both of them – we’ll never be able to afford to have the pair of them round the house.”

Kathy O’Shea groped around through her old lists of excuses for elderly relatives’ Xmas presents. “Well, NAMA seemed to be all the rage at the time,” she said hopefully.

“It was arse then, and it’s an even bigger arse now.”

“Watch your language, young man!” snapped his mother. “It’s Christmas, after all. Try to have a bit of Christian decency.”

NAMA showed its age from the first and was rapidly past its sell-by-date.

NAMA showed its age from the first and was rapidly past its sell-by-date.

Darragh sulked down in his chair and rustled through the Roses box to see if there was anything left other than coffee crèmes or a share in Anglo Irish Bank.

“I wouldn’t mind so much if they hadn’t paid twenty times what the thing is worth for it,” he said, rolling his eyes as he texted with his friends about the crap gift they’d all gotten from the government this year. “I mean, AIB’s only worth €432 million. They put €3.5 billion into it last year, another €3.7 billion just before Xmas, and they still have to pay off another €6.1 billion by February.”

“I wish they wouldn’t go around blowing so much cash on these stupid things.”

“Well, it’s only money…” said his mother, rummaging at the bottom of the excuse locker.

“It was our money. They borrowed it from us, remember? You had to mortgage the house to get it for them.”

Kathy O’Shea gave up, opened a bottle of Baileys, and flopped down on the sofa next to Darragh. “They really are a pack of retarded fucking cunts,” she said, taking a drink directly out of the bottle before passing it to her son.

“Lord save me for saying it, but the sooner they pass on the better for the whole family.”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: