A true story

Posted in Old blogger by Twenty Major on December 14th, 2005

Some time back I mentioned Dirty Dave’s brother to you. Shiny Simon he’s called because he has an incredibly shiny forehead. Since he hit puberty his forehead gleams like a newly polished car. We all thought it was something to do with being that age, hormones and so on, but it has remained impossibly shiny ever since.

Anyway, Shiny Simon’s shiny forehead gave him great powers. Well, not exactly, but when playing football he could head the ball harder than anyone else we knew. Whether that was to do with the incandescence of his brow we don’t know but bullet headers were his speciality. Sadly for him his sparkling noggin was not such a good thing given his chosen profession. He smuggled drugs from Holland by swallowing them or putting them up his arse, Papillon style.

He provided Dublin’s smelliest cocaine. So when Dirty Dave came into the pub last night with a glum look on his face and he said it was about his brother we all immediately thought the rubber johnny he’d packed full of stuff before swallowing it had burst in his stomach.

“No, it was nothing like that”, said Dave.

“What happened then?” asked Jimmy the Bollix.

“Well, you know my old mam is in a nursing home out near Donabate?”

“Yeah.”

“He was going over there to visit her.”

“Right.”

“And he was driving along.”

“You can use more than one sentence at a time. Fucking hell.”

“Ok, he was driving along, he’d just gone past the airport and heading out towards Swords. It was a particularly sunny day and it seems the glare off his forehead blinded a Northern Irish truck driver who careered across the road and smashed into a coach full of orphans going on their first ever foreign trip.”

“Jesus.”

“Then the coach full of orphans skidded back across into the path of a wedding party with the newly wed bride and groom who had survived both the 9-11 and 7/7 attacks beheaded instantly. The bride’s head landed in the lap of her father who had a heart attack and dropped dead on the lap of her terminally ill mother who vomited and fainted at the same time and choked to death on her own puke. The groom’s head went flying out of the window and through the windshield of a a minibus taking 16 elderly ladies to bingo. It rolled up the middle of the bus, every single old lady pissed and shat herself covering the head in wee and poo before it rolled back down and under the brake pedal. Now, because the head was so slippy the driver couldn’t dislodge it and couldn’t use the brakes so he went across the road and smashed into a couple doing a sponsored tandem ride around Ireland to raise money for training guide dogs for the blind.”

“Holy shit!”

“It doesn’t end there. The tandem cracked in two and the lad at the front went over the handlebars and landed on the bonnet of a BMW which a group of skangers from Blanchardstown had just robbed from the long-term car park at the airport. They slammed on the brakes and yer man went flying through the air. Unfortunately none of the cunts had put their seatbelts on so the driver got propelled through the windscreen by the bloke in the back and he went like superman in the same direction as the bloke who had landed on the bonnet, who in the meantime had bounced back off the minibus, causing the old ladies to shit and piss themselves again which made a dozen of them slip and break their hips, and the two of them collided headfirst in mid-air. Naturally travelling at such speed made their heads cave in and their brains fell out on the road which caused a passing motorcycle courier’s bike to go out from underneath him as he rode over them. The bike skidded along the ground, into the orphans coach and ignited the fuel tank and within seconds there was an enormous explosion.”

“Fucking hell!”

“Most of the orphans were killed instantly but three of four managed to escape the bus and ran around waving their arms because they were totally on fire. When some other motorists stopped to help them by covering them with blankets they too were set ablaze because of the combustible mixture of the fuel and orphan blood which is highly inflammable. As they tried to put themselves out by rolling on the grass the verges set alight because of the unseasonably dry weather we’ve been having and the sparks from the long grass blew across the road and soon there was a chain reaction of car after car after truck after bus blowing up causing a gigantic fireball which was similar in size to the one in England the other day only not as big. The backdraft from that caught a passing helicopter and it crashed upside down decapitating nearly everybody on the ground which was a small mercy as the skin was burning off them anyway. The helicopter pilot was all right though and he got out to help but forgot about the rotor on the tail which ripped his stomach open and as he tried desperately to hold his intenstines in tripped over a sausagy bit which had snagged around his foot and landed on the one orphan who had miraculously escaped unharmed and drowned him in his entrails before he died himself.”

“By the flabby gash of Mariah Carey that’s mental!”

“Yeah, and it’s the second time it’s happened out there.”

“Aye, it’s some dangerous stretch of road, all right. So Simon was one of the unfortunate casualties, I take it. I’m very sorry to hear that, Dirty Dave.”

“Oh no, he’s fine. It’s just that he was buying me an orphan for Christmas and the one he’d picked out at the pound happened to be in that coach.”

“You don’t get orphans in the pound, you gobshite. You get puppies.”

“Oh yeah. I always get those two confused.”