Questions and Answers (with Ronaldo and Paris Hilton)
Me: This week on Questions and Answers, former Taoiseach Bertie Ahern…
Bertie Ahern: Good evening.
Me:…socialite and heiress Paris Hilton…
Paris Hilton: Hi.
Me:…Sinn Féin president Gerry Adams…
Gerry Adams: Oiche mhaith.
Me:…and world footballer of the year, Cristiano Ronaldo…
Ronaldo: Ola.
Me: We’ll begin with the economy. Should the government consider a property tax? Ronaldo?
Ronaldo: Yes?
Me: A property tax?
Ronaldo: Yes.
(Audience applause)
Me: Beautifully put.
Gerry Adams: Now hold on. Mr Ronaldo can swan in here with all his populist propaganda…
Ronaldo: Popu…popuganda?
Gerry Adams:…but I don’t think the Irish taxation system is any business of a Johnny Foreigner.
Ronaldo: Is true. I’m notta Irish.
(Audience gasp)
Gerry Adams: How would you feel if I showed up in Portugal, shouting the odds?
Ronaldo: With that beard? You would be a god to my people. Men and women would make-a love to you day and night. Virgins would trim your beard as you slept, and slaves would tend to your pubes while you bathed in the semen of dolphins.
Me: Jaysus.
Bertie Ahern: Jaysus.
Gerry Adams: Why is he looking at me like that?
(Audience member coughs. A mobile phone begins ringing and is instantly silenced)
Me: Eh…Em…Bertie. Property tax?
Bertie Ahern: Wella, I…I do believe that all…all the options should be…be considered, because…
Paris Hilton: This is absurd.
Bertie Ahern: Now hold on, I didn’t interrupt you….
Paris Hilton: You cannot tax your way out of a recession.
Bertie Ahern: Well…well, in desperate times, you have to…
Paris Hilton: No, no, no. It’s kindergarten economics. Increasing taxes shackles market forces. It has failed as a policy time and time again: Norway in 1942, China in 76, Argentina in 79. The great Jean Baptiste Colbert said “The art of taxation consists of plucking the goose to obtain the largest amount of feathers with the smallest amount of hissing.” Obviously it sounds more eloquent in French.
(Audience applause)
Me: So what would you do, in Brian Cowen’s shoes?
Paris Hilton: If I was Taoiseach of this beer-soaked shit hole?
(Audience gasp)
Gerry Adams: Now hold on young lady….
Paris Hilton: I’d trim the public sector work force by a third, disband the quangos, and borrow money to invest in market stimulus initiatives.
Ronaldo: I wanna make-a sweet, sweet love to you.
Paris Hilton: Not now.
Ronaldo: I was notta talkin to you.
Gerry Adams: Tell the dark fella to stop making the eyes at me.
(Audience member exclaims “Jaysus”. Another audience member coughs)
Me: This is getting weird.
Gerry Adams: Then get a hold of things. That’s your job.
Me: Let’s move onto reports of a raid on the offices of Michael Jackson’s doctor. Why is the public thirst for Jackson news so unyielding? Bertie, you met the man in 2003?
Bertie Ahern: That’s correct, yes, we….we held a state dinner in Mr Jackson’s honour. A wonderful, wonderful man.
Me: I believe he tried to teach you the moonwalk?
Bertie Ahern: He did, yes.
Me: And you broke both your legs? Or was it just one?
Bertie Ahern: No, it was both legs, yes. Certainly, a far…far more difficult dance than it looks. I actually swallowed my tongue on the last attempt, and it was…was only when I got to the hospital that they realised that my…my legs were actually broken.
Me: Fascinating. And I presume Jackson visited you in hospital?
Bertie Ahern: No, he…he had a prior engagement. He did send his personal assistant though, and Bubbles the chimp.
Me: That was nice of him.
Bertie Ahern: It was, though the monkey did attack me. I had to beat it away with me bedpan.
Me: Jesus, that must have been terrible.
Bertie Ahern: Ah, ‘twas only a few scratches. Nothing compared to what it did to the poor kids in the children’s’ ward. Never seen so much blood.
Me: Paris, what do you make of the media coverage?
Paris Hilton: Of Michael Jackson?
Me: Yes.
Paris Hilton: I think it’s disgusting. Iraq, Afghanistan and global recession have all been relegated to the middle pages. I renounce this puerile society. I absent myself from it. Shame on you. Shame on you all.
(Audience applause)
Paris Hilton: Well, don’t applaud me. I’m attacking you, you bog-brained Murphys.
(Audience member shouts “fuck you”)
Paris Hilton: You wish.
Ronaldo: I don’t. Too smooth around the chin. Not enough beard, eh my friend?
Gerry Adams: Take your hand off my leg.
Bertie Ahern: Mother of divine Jaysus.
Gerry Adams: You have three seconds to take your hand off my leg.
Me: Em…that’s all we have time for tonight unfortunately…
Gerry Adams: ….two….
Me:…I’d like to thank my guests, Paris Hilton, Bertie Ahern, Cristiano Ronaldo and Gerry Adams…
Gerry Adams:….one….
Me: ….Thank you, and good night.
Gerry Adams: TAKE THAT, YOU GREASY PORTUGUESE CUNT.
(Audience gasp)
Me: Ah Jaysus. Ah Christ, he’s out cold. Tony, ring an ambulance. Tell them we have a man unconscious. He’s been stitched a loaf.
Paris Hilton: Wow. Mr Adams. I never knew you could be so….militant.
Gerry Adams: Get your coat love. You’ve scored.
I wonder if Gerry Adams would have made a good centre forward with his many left footed own goals?
Paris would have been good in goal, especially with her feet never ever being together.
As for this Christine Ronaldog? Never fucking heard of her.
…bad Jimmy… bad bad Jimmy.
Sir, how dare you impugn the integrity of that chaste woman. A more virginal, pure woman there has not been since Mary of Nazareth (and to a lesser extent, Mary Whitehouse)
I’ll agree with Flann on this one. What can you say? Girl’s got her head screwed on tight, via a wise neck, to some sensible shoulders and all supported by a good christian torso.
Mmmm….Christian torso.
Mary of Nazareth? Did she no work behind the bar at the Three Donkeys Inn over in Govan?
Little known fact: The Three Donkeys was so named because the original proprietor in 1804, as a novelty, trained three mules to pull pints for thirsty punters.
The farce of half-full pints, pickled with donkey hair and saliva, continued for several months until the head barman, Dobbins, kicked a young child in the face with his hind legs, knocking all the child’s teeth out. Dobbins was hung from the nearest tree, as a warning to the other donkeys. By then the tide had turned though, and Donkey barmen were soon retired as a concept.
That’s the problem with politics; the people who would be good at the job never get elected, because they don’t want it. Can you do a write-in for Paris on the next election?
Not only would I vote for Paris Hilton, Fat Sparrow, but I’d take a bullet for that woman. Right in the face.
In fact, I’d sooner see the entire population of Leitrim put to the sword than see a single peroxide hair on that woman’s skull harmed.
Now who would believe Ronaldo, Gerry and Paris would sit down in the same room as B,B,Bertie?
Geez even I know Paris and Ronaldo would would out intellectualize him! Is that a word?
Imagine Paris Hilton and Ronaldo made a baby. It would be like Ghandi, Martin Luther King, and Arnold Swarzeneger, all rolled into one.