Awoke in the middle of the night unhappy in the realisation that there must be at least one crucifixion taking place somewhere on the planet at the moment - probably in Donaghmede - and that one was not present to witness it. Unfortunate that it should be Donaghmede as that particular part of Dublin was now difficult to access due to the electrified fence surrounding it that one had installed after a previous visit.
Decided to go for a walk to calm the nerves. After chewing through the bed restraints and taking care not to disturb the member of The Saturdays that one had installed as a guard dog (after some choice modifications, naturellement), one slipped out of the building un-noticed.
Found a hole. As they go, it wasn't a particularly impressive hole. Impressive holes being the kind left when, say, a member of The Jonas Brothers, who has been stipped naked and collared to a lamp post, has been informed that unless he digs a hole twenty feet deep in the next fifteen minutes using just his bare hands he will be set upon by starving dogs. Or the kind left when a unexploded Luftwaffe bomb that has somehow found its way into a Progressive Democrats reunion party is detonated by a minister for health being thrown on top of it. This wasn't like that. But it was okay. Some scorch marks on the crater, decorative, that sort of thing. 5/10.
Began thinking about how best to take advantage of this newly-acquired asset. One had for a while been fantasising about the possibility cross-breeding e-coli bacteria and Silvio Berlusconi with the aim of cultivating a new strain of bacteria that would actually be large enough to use public transport and govern Baltinglass in a manner befitting the town's inhabitants but one dismissed this idea due to the citizens' enormously ungrateful nature. What kind of a town turns down the opportunity to purchase 590 pints of nerve gas? What are they going to use to assault the away crowd at the next GAA encounter with Blessington? Their spit? Its corrosive abilities are beyond debate, certainly, but surely a certain degree of class is called for here.
On reflection, one realised that the hole was not quite big enough to function as a petri dish (leaving aside the fact that using an eyedropper to administer an entire human being into a petri dish presents all sorts of logistical problems the kind of which, frankly, you wouldn't believe) so decided instead to use the hole as a hiding place for deposed dictators. Hastily kitted it out with the essentials; a hole in the wall large enough to accommodate a moderately-sized penis (have to take Milosevic into consideration), a couple of hinges and a wooden hatch for egress, plus, the coup de grace, a rudimentary automatic anus cleansing system (patent pending) constructed using a toothbrush and a jackhammer. The triggering system is ingenious. One simply applies pressure to a footswitch which increases the tension on a string tied to the trigger of the jackhammer. Tested this on a subject last week. Unfortunately the test was carried out in less than ideal conditions. For a start the footswitch, in reality an accellerator pedal, was still partially attached to its point of origin; a Ford Focus stripped of everything above the undercarriage, which meant that the test was performed in motion at high speed. What was doubly unfortunate was that the car's engine was also powering the jackhammer giving it a thrust capacity of 120 horsepower. As the speed of the test vehicle increased and the number of cars on the motorway swerving to get out of its way increased, one eventually lost sight of the test subject as it sped over the horizon at an impressive velocity and one had to rely on radio communications for verification of the test's success. However this was not a total loss. Between the test subject's high-pitched screams, it indicated that this means of cleansing was preferable to the previous system - wire brushing and Dettol.
Posted the ad on Gumtree, Ebay, Buy&Sell
For Rent: One Crawlspace
Ideal for political refugees or fugitive inmates. Must have be mentioned on Wikipedia entry for "Ethnic cleansing"
088-171-1992. Call after midnight only. A.
Received a call soon afterwards from a fellow purporting to be a former dictator of a Latin American country (couldn't remember the name - didn't really care) who was interested in renting the hole for a short period of time. To verify his credentials asked him what's the best use for a football stadium. The correct answer, as anyone knows, is "for executing socialists and adulterers". He answered correctly. Credentials thus established, decided to show him the property. Unfortunately, upon seeing him for the first time, a previously-unforseen difficulty reared its head; one had not taken the potential expansive girth of third world dictators into account when modifying the hole. It would have to be expanded.
Filled the area with some semtex (the Real IRA now perform an on-line delivery service - at last they have joined the 21st Century), lit the fuse and took cover. The resultant blast took out a police helicopter that had thoughtlessly strayed within striking distance. While the semtex performed admirably an unfortunate side-effect manifested itself. The hole was now far too big. Would have to be filled in to reach an appropriate size. To better aid one's task, decided to request that the client stand in the centre of the hole to better guage the dimensions required. Surprisingly the fellow was now for some reason on all fours scuttling slowly around searching for something that turned out to be his left leg which had somehow, mysteriously, detached itself from his knee and imbedded itself in a lamp-post. An unconstructive and, it has to be said, blantantly unprofessional activity to undertake while in the middle of securing a real estate deal. Motioned him in the direction of the hole which, given that he was now also blind for some reason, was depressingly easy. As he scuttered about the floor of the hole wailing in some intensely irritating foreign cadence, one decided to make use of the opportunity to resume one's stress test experiments on human skin - by poking it repeatedly. Obtained the Poking Device (curtain rail) from the garage and commenced poking operations. Research had proceeded two unfruitful minutes when the experiment was sadly cut short by the sudden and thoroughly unexpected reappearance of the Anus Cleansing Device test subject, vehicle and all, which sped up on one from behind and knocked one at painfully-high speeds into the hole before racing off, apparently oblivious to what had happened. Tracked its speed now at in excess of 100mph which must have meant some serious amount of power being fed into the jackhammer.
Sat on the floor of the hole, contemplating recent events, client scuttling blindly, moaning nearby. Fortune had at least seen fit to grace one with the Poking Device that had been knocked into the hole along with its owner. Happily this meant that, while one contemplated a means of escape from this predicament, one could at least occupy the time with continued poking experiments on the client/test subject. Recommenced poking operations at the rate of one poke every two seconds. Will time tell? Or will life find a way? One must keep poking to find out.
Thoughts for the day
#1 If you stare at a rock for long enough, it will never move.
#2 Have been attempting to ignore Wales in the hope that it will cease to exist if one forgets about it for long enough. Checked the atlas and it was still there. Further work required.
#3 Attempting to build Cloud City a waste of time until artificial gravity is invented. One won't be making that mistake again...
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