Story by Hung One On and Digital Mischief by Warrigal Mirriyuula
Hi. Sandy O’Way here, you know the, yes I guess you know by now. I’m in a cab on my way to the Nazi Goering Airport on Barley when the phone rings. Guess who, the Bish.
“Sandy, hop a plane to Greece. They are in great trouble and need your help to prevent them dropping out of the Eurozone” bleats the Bish.
“Hmm, Eroticzones, sounds good to me Bish” I answer eagerly.
“No you dimwit. The Eurozone is a common European currency used by all European countries, you know like Portugal, Ireland, Greece, Spain, Austria, Romania, Moldova and Switzerland you must rescue them or you’re fired” demands the Bish.
Hmm, there goes my comfy retirement but Portugal, Ireland, Greece, Spain, Austria, Romania, Moldova and Switzerland spells PIGSARMS. It’s a sign from Gordon, I’m on a mission from GOD! This must be connected to the Pigs Arms, the home of pink drinks and Trotters Ale, well I’ll do it for them, they are worth saving.
On the plane I am seated next to a strangely attractive female dressed in black leather and teased hair however there is something not quite right here, like since when do women have an Adams apple and a five o’clock shadow, hmm.
“Hi cutey. I’m Olivia Neutron Bomb” er, um, she states and extends here rather hairy hand.
We shake hands and she nearly crushes it, crikey more grip than a hooker up the Cross. “Er, um Sandy O’Way, nice to meet you, now can you give me my hand back” I blurt in pain and agony.
“ I’ve just finished my last year at Rydell’s High School and had to leave behind my boyfriend, John Travolting, but look sweetie I’m always open to any mile high suggestions” she gushes batting her eyelashes faster then a hummingbird on heat. “You see Father, I got chills. They’re multiplyin’. And I’m losin’ control. Cause the power you’re supplyin’, it’s electrifyin’! You’re the one that I want, (you are the one I want), o,o, oo, honey, The one that I want. (you are the one I want), o,o,oo, honey. The one that I want, (you are the one I want), o,o, ooooo, The one I need.
Oh, yes indeed”
“Er, um, well, look Miss, I’m a parish priest and I’m on a mission from GOD.” I search unwittingly for an answer to dispel, well, um, this young lady.
“So you’re in the missionary position Father? See Greece is the word, Greece is the word, is the word that you heard, It’s got groove it’s got meaning, Greece is the time, is the place is the motion, Greece is the way we are feeling” she says.
“No I’m off to save Greece from dropping out of the Eurozone.” I state rather firmly.
“Well look up my old friend, Evangeos Venizelopoulos, he is a handsome Geek man that likes things Greek style in every way, if you know what I mean” he, er, um, she smirks.
Well no, I don’t know what you mean but someone get me out of here.
I head to Evangoes’ office but I mean fancy being in Greece, the centre of the world, handsome men, pretty women and the best food I have ever eaten. Yeah, Greece is the word.
“So Evangoes” I start “ the country is up shit creek. What are you going to do about it?”
“Well, I will win the next election and trash everything from the IMF and anyone else” he says rather firmly.
“The IMF?” I ask rather dimwittingly.
“Yes, the Internationally Myopic Financers” he replies.
“Hmm, what about asking people to pay tax? I mean Christine “Frenchy” LaGrange, head of the IMF, said so herself only the other day” I moot carefully.
“Sir, you insult me and my nation. We pay no tax. Tax is a pox. When I attend the school dance with the T-Birds and the Pink Ladies there is no talk of tax. We will win the dance off and fund the country that way. Anyway, Frenchy has insulted my car, a Datsun 120Y, and I have challenged her to a race to the death” he asserts loudly and demonstratively.
“So Evangoes, what is life for you after politics?” I ask.“Well” says Evangoes “Frenchy has promised me a head job in the car park so I expect to be Le Comminsioner de stationnement [The Commissioner of Parking] I guess.”
I rest my car.