Events in Garda HQ Mayday 2005

dublin | miscellaneous | news report Wednesday May 04, 2005 23:42 by rodney sparkles

an accurate reconstruction, based entirely on true* testimony by reliable** witnesses

* not necessarily true
** me, and no, I wasn't there

It was a warm sunny day on May 1st in Dublin. Head Truncheon O’Toole glimpsed worryingly out the window of Garda HQ, Phoenix Park. It was a perfect day, perfect for trouble…He thought back to the previous day’s phonecall from Special Branch. One of their crack hackers had accessed a crazed lefty website known ominously as ‘indymedia’ and found a reference to an Anarchist Picnic for the Mayday. O’Toole had immediately cancelled all leave for the foreseeable future and attempted to place the Army Ranger Wing on full alert. He had sent three of his finest men out on a recon mission, to locate the picnic and report back with full details, avoiding any confrontation.

“Remember, boys,” he had told them, “these are mad yobbo-hooligans, on no account are you to start a fight. Our intelligence is certain that they have access to poison gas and buried arms caches. It’s highly probable that they have dangerous items stashed away in their picnic boxes.”

The phone rang. The red phone, that is.
“Hello! Have you been attacked? Do you need helicopter support?
….
“Look, Nora, how many times have I told you not to call me on this line? No, I can’t pick up the kids from school, we’re in a national crisis!”

O’Toole slammed the phone down with a grunt. He looked up to see Sgt. Stodge at the door, visibly shaking. “Dammit Sgt! Snap out of it What happened?”

“It’s worse than we feared, Head Truncheon. The anarchists (he shuddered as he said that word) have gathered beside the magazine fort. They appear to be enjoying…lunch.”

O’Toole knew the strategic importance of the magazine fort and cursed his own ignorance. If the black flag were raised there, the anarchists would command Dublin…Ireland…the world at large! But this was no time to be afraid, this was a decisive time, it needed a decisive man, and O’Toole was that man.
“Details!”, he yelled, “Give me details Stodge!”
“There appear to be approximately twenty of these madmen and women. Also, several small children.”
“Good Christ! The small ones are the most dangerous! Do you have any idea how many good men I’ve lost to anarchist toddlers? What about their food?”
“Well, sir, the anarchists (shudder) appear to be eating sandwiches, potato salad and… baked confectionery, sir.”
“I said details! What type of sandwiches, what manner of confectionery, this is vital information!”
“Well, sir, they appear to be subversive sandwiches of some description, and also fruit, vegetables and …flapjacks”

Damnation, thought O’Toole, everyone knew that the anarchists’ balanced diets gave them the strength and desire to smash the State. The situation was dangerous, firm action was called for. He reached for the phone, the red phone. It was time to call in the cavalry…