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.

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 21st 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.

"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.

"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.”

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