The Heelers Diaries

the fantasy world of ireland's greatest living poet

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Location: Kilcullen (Phone 087 7790766), County Kildare, Ireland

Thursday, June 17, 2010

die hard with a heelers

Hans Gruber stood with his remaining henchmen in the Nakatomi building.
They had hijacked the building an hour ago but their plans had gone awry.
In the labyrinthine corridors of the skyscraper, someone was hunting down their men and killing them.
Of twelve terrorists who had taken part in the initial raid only seven were left.
First Ian Stewart had gone.
Then Mick Sneeran.
Then the little badly bollix John Whelan who'd edited the Leinster Leader for a full five minutes.
Then some Chief Executive Officer of the Johnston Press whose name I can't even remember.
Then little Sylvia Plath the former Assistant Bitch to the editor.
It had all happened very quickly.
Hans Gruber, played by current Johnston Press Chief of Staff John Fry, was frothing at the mouth.
"We are still on track but I need those detonators" he roared at his men. "Who is he? I want him dead."
The walkie talkie Hans had left on the table suddenly came to life.
A sardonic, sarcastic, vaguely droll voice filled the room.
"Hans, Hans, Hans," said the Bruce Willis voice. "You've got to calm down. You'll give yourself an enema. Or worse. You'll get what Sneeran and Stewart have."
Hans whirled and grabbed the walkie talkie.
With difficulty he controlled his anger.
"You have me at a disadvantage," he murmured with improbable gentleness. "You know me but I don't know you."
There was laughter from the other end of the line.
"Hans," said Bruce, "I'm just the regular fly in the ointment, the monkey in the wrench, the zorgotron in the vorgonuts."
Hans looked briefly confused.
"Are you a priest?" he ventured. "Your blog often seems to have religious themes."
Bruce Willis made a buzzing sound as though Hans had gotten a question wrong on a television game show.
"Wrong answer Hans," Bruce rebuked. "You wanna try for double jeopardy? You can win a holiday in heaven."
Again Hans Gruber tried to master himself.
"You seem very witty," he murmured, "for a recently fired member of the advertising staff."
Bruce repeated the now familiar buzzing sound.
"Wrong again Hans," he intoned. "One more wrong answer and you're dead."
Hans Gruber gave up trying to fish for information and let his anger flow.
"I know what you are," snarled Hans. "You are just another Irish peasant who's spent too much time harvesting turf to see the wood for the trees. Another sadly bereft product of an outmoded decaying proto Catholic culture."
Again there was laughter from the other end.
"I've always preferred Lutheranism myself," said Bruce Willis. "Yippekayay you Johnston Press motherf******."

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