Written by Barry Subchimp
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Topics: McDonalds, Disaster

Thursday, 11 December 2003

image for Pikeys mourn those lost in disaster
The travellers sign a book of condolence for those lost.

TODAY was a solemn day for Scotland's community of Travellers, as they remembered those lost in the September 12th disaster. It was only a few months ago, that the disater occurred, when a McDonalds lorry, crashed into the capital of the Pikey settlement, Big Daves tent.

Although no one was injured or killed during the event, the aftermath dealt a serious blow to the Swamp-dwelling apes.

When the driver of the truck emerged to inspect the damage, he instantly began mercilessly hiring and
recruiting from the soapless population at random, handing out jobs to the manky-mudhut-hermits, willy nilly.

"It was a black day, an absolute slaughter," said a toothless 'Gypo' spokesman with a tear in one of his glass eyes.

"It was truly horrifying, they just began giving them jobs, and before we knew it, we had lost 55% of our population.

"Now, our friends are too busy earning money to even come nicking stuff, or ripping people off on the
waltzers. What really hurt was when one of them started living in a house. A HOUSE!!!!!!!!

"Now some of them can even read, and each time we recieve a letter from them, we become angrier at those responsible, and it only strengthens our resolve to not read, work, wash, or earn anything honestly.

And he threatened action against McDonalds.

"The facist supplier of those delicious paper cups will pay for their crimes against the dirt feasting people of this community. Now let us bow our oily, toothless, flea ridden heads in prayer for those lost in the tragedy."

But a spokesman for McDonalds defended their actions, saying: "When we saw how these people lived, and the level of squallor in which they festered, we knew that we really had to do something, and fast. We simply had to hire them, as their personal hygene was exactly the kind of thing that we encourage here at McDonalds.

"They smelled like a dead otter floating through
a sewer, their skin is abysmally blotchy and sore ridden, and what's more we could use their hair to fry our chips in. They will make a fine addition to our team, and we hope that there are many more to follow."

In a touching tribute, one local stench ridden flea bag mother, held up a picture of her missing son at a press conference, saying:

"Please come home, son. It doesn't matter that you smell of soap now, but we just want you back here amongst the illiterate pox infested masses. We'll soon help you to remember the joys of washing in organic fertiliser, and I kept your manure filled dog basket just the way you left it, pillow and everything."

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The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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