In a long anticipated move, Marty Whelan's favourite pair of beige slacks asserted their independence today. The declaration came in a statement issued through the offices of An Bord Gais, where Mr. Whelan's slacks have taken refuge since fleeing from Mr. Whelan's holiday car park on Monday last. The declaration asserted the rights of the citizens of Marty Whelan's favourite pair of beige slacks to self-determination and a rule free of tyranny and peanuts. The details are unclear at the moment, but it is believed the trousers favour some form of constitutional monarchy. The government will be elected by a revolving head of state named King Flaps.
The slacks, believed to be a good friend of Pat Kenny's left leg, have already opened a consulate in the Uzbekistan capital, Shergar. They have also purchased land in Nairobi, Poland and Jonah Lomu, with a view to establishing further diplomatic missions. There were scenes of rejoicing in Jonah Lomu as the new ambassador Bing Elocution arrived in the capital, Twinky. A jovial atmosphere pervaded with fearless children dancing and presenting the ambassador with smelling flowers, and the ambassador shooting two men in the head in reply, one of whom was hospitalised. The other was thrown into a skip marked 'Trapped To Boiling Point' and pushed off a cliff.
Meanwhile, Mr. Whelan (37) is believed to be privately fuming behind closed doors, but when the doors are opened he appears confident and untrustworthy, with an air of a man who desperately needs assistance to complete his scale model of a lizard-powered Golden Retriever which he is building from Swiss jam. In a statement read in a high-pitched girlie voice by his solicitor, Jackie Chan, Mr. Whelan (84) expressed a preference for cats over exploding mice biscuits and refused to rule out the possibility of releasing a hybrid rap-gospel album entitled: "I've Got A Big Ding-Dong". He also stressed that magic rhubarb grows where only he knows and that he has never used the powers of the rhubarb to see ladies' boobies, although he has been tempted on numerous occasions. Mr. Whelan (23) is expected to announce his imminent retirement from the glamorous yet alluring world of automatic bee-racing to concentrate all his energies on levitating a tramp using only the power of his raisin-free mind.
He's a bit mad, though.
A Westmeath farmer, believed to be no relation to Elvis Presley, yesterday operated a scissors in gale force conditions outside his home near Castlepollard.The man was believed to be delirious with fear and had taken a cake overdose prior to the incident. The dangerous fear levels were induced by a badger shoving an image of Carol Vorderman under the farmer's door and shouting "Deacon Blue Refuse To Compromise!" at a relatively high volume before running away like a peacock.The farmer at this point became extremely scared and disoriented and attempted to book the Bee Gees for his inevitable but lacklustre funeral. A neighbour, carefully monitoring the farmer through the sight of a high-powered sniper rifle, rang the alarms bells when he saw the man attempt to cut out a silhouette of the former Chancellor of West Germany, Willi Brandt, in his front garden.
School bus driver Reg O'Keefe impaled local youth nutcase Kevin Crean with a rusty harpoon gun, Monday lunchtime, writes nutcase correspondent Felicity Trough. Kevin, 6, is well known in the area as been a real weirdo and, despite his tender years, has been responsible for a number of whacky incidents over the past two years. Kevin was being driven by Mr. O'Keefe along with another twenty-seven students to the Macclesfield Centre For Animal Torture as part of a school outing. A series of barmy episodes, including a frog slapping contest, led to the young boy being taken from the bus by an irate Mr. O'Keefe, tied to an horse chestnut tree, and shot through the left shoulder with a 12 inch, rusty harpoon which attached him comprehensively to the tree. The youngster remained there for six hours until his parents could get off work and rip him bodily from the mighty trunk of the majestic old tree. While waiting, Kevin amused pedestrians by bellowing Shakespearean verse at passing air hostesses through a redundant dog.
A man at the Ballyvera bus stop may have given himself away as a blood-crazed serial killer by being overly friendly. The incident was reported today to Gardai in Kilminatine by Tom O'Connor (68), the victim of the attack.'We're treating this case very seriously,' explained Garda Tim Noodles, who is of Latvian origin but has no interest in snakes. He continued: 'A very friendly man is very probably a serial killer. He is 'sizing up' his victims, by asking what time it is or engaging in small talk about the weather or the price of sheep.'
That scenario bears a chilling resemblance to Mr. O'Connor's ordeal. 'I'm just glad to be alive. At first he just asked me what time it was. And then I tol' him I didn't feckin' know, but he just feckin' going on at me, ya know. Then he said it looked like rain. That's when I thought to myself "This fella's off his bleedin' rocker". But then he start talking about this cabbage he'd bought in Gorman's and how much it cost him. At this point, I started to go weak at de knees, and I thought for sure after that he was hell bent on kidnapping me and tying me to some sort of metal frame with big spikes sticking out of it using silk scarves or handcuffs and sodomising me for six hours and him wearing a black latex mask, with red trimmings all along. And then killing me after that, obviously, somehow. '
However, Mr. O'Connor effected an audacious escape by biting his assailant on the testicles and hijacking a passing train at gunpoint. The police issued a description of the man they are looking for, based on evidence given by Mr. O'Connor. They are searching for a male with a sizeable chunk missing from his left testicle. The victim is being comforted tonight by local prostitutes.
Policemen who indulge in policeman-type sarcasm have virtually no chance of scoring with attractive female offenders, claims the Association of Attractive Female Offenders. The organisations spokeswoman, Ms. Rita Underpants, said in a statement issued on Thursday night 'You sarcastic police types have got no chance of scoring. Even if we think you would let us off with just a warning if we engage in varying levels of physical contact, depending on the crime and the level of oestrogen in the water supply. Phrases such as "We have been a naughty little girl, haven't we?" or "What is the capital of Slovakia then, little Miss Einstein?" will get you nowhere.'
