Provisional IRA give The Spoof 30 minutes to leave the internet

Funny story written by matwil

Sunday, 15 March 2009

image for Provisional IRA give The Spoof 30 minutes to leave the internet
The British were also scared of Ned Kelly. And Old Mother Reilly. And ...

To mark St. Patrick's Day, in a coded message the Provisional IRA - not to be confused with the Real IRA, Continuity IRA, Official IRA, or Drugdealing Hoodlum IRA - gave a warning to The Spoof, a satirical website that has already brought down one Prime Minister, one American President, and the entire East Cheam council.

The message was: 'The Provisional IRA is the army of the Irish Republic, Sinn Fein are the government of a united Ireland. The Spoof has satirised ourselves as nothing better than terrorists and drugs runners and liars, the sort who can only pick on Norris McMorris and pub drinkers in England, and a few inbred Protestants in Ulster. You have thirty minutes to leave the internet, or we cannot be responsible for anyone being hurt.'

But rather than take heed of the warning The Spoof's intelligent intelligence chief, 'S', issued the following counterstatement. 'The day anyone in the United Kingdom does a single thing that a gang of pathetic, cheap, second-rate street gangsters tell us to do is the day that the IRA dare to let off a single bomb in Glasgow - i.e. never.'

'The Provisionals wouldn't last a second against the Scots, and it was easier for the English to conquer the whole of Ireland than it was to conquer Mbebebatunaland. Bring it on, tattie munchers!'

And at this response Provisional Sinn Fein leader Adam Jerries said: 'Er ... but we are the feared IRA! We're tough and scary, and -'. But psychically 'S' then interrupted: 'We live next door to the Scots, the most violent and dangerous maniacs on the planet, and when the Welsh aren't sailing around the world destroying Spanish galleons and destroying Latin American cities they're playing the toughest sport in the world, and actually enjoying it.'

'The Spoof will not be intimidated by what are basically an organisation of cowards and parasites, that no Irish people support, and only fools in Boston do. And I don't mean Boston in Lincolnshire, old ladies in England are tougher than any Irish 'freedom fighters', let alone Americans, try being bombed for 6 years by the Germans without batting an eyelid, or whinging about 'oppression'.'

Mr Jerries then phoned up the Pope to try and get his support for the IRA's threats, but Herr Ratzinger refused any help. 'You and your organisation are a disgrace to the Roman Catholic faith, and to the Irish people', he said, 'you're nothing short of criminals and murderers. Please do not phone me again, your ex-communication is in the post.' And the IRA leader even found that Irish emigrants wanted nothing to do with them, and that the main reason they were leaving Ireland was to get away from him and his co-workards.

'Oh well', he said, 'thank heavens for the Americans, othwerwise we'd be out of business. Another Guiness, Martinski?' 'To be sure, Adamski.' 'Here's to a united Ireland.' 'Very funny, Adam, you mean here's to us living off the eejits that believe that that could ever happen.' 'Here's to Americans, then.' 'Slainte.' 'Slainte.' 'Morons.' 'Americans.'

Scotland will be 1064 this year, and Ireland only exists as a nation and has any culture because England invented it, like the USA, but Americans celebrate St. Patrick's Day every year, and as one Spoof writer recently pointed out they donate millions to all Irish republican terror groups, including the Real IRA and the Provisionals. St. Patrick was Scottish, Adam Jerries speaks English better than any Brit, and the Republic of Ireland only exists because nobody else wants it, especially the hard-working Irish ship builders in Northern Ireland.

Oh well, at least the Irish have St. Patrick's Day to look forward to, they don't have much else. That's why the Irish emigrate and bring up their children to blame the British for their own failings. The Irish Empire gets more powerful every Friday night, especially after three pints of Guiness, and especially with people who have never visited Ireland or know anything about it, which means Irish Americans, of course.

Slainte mhath, agus mi aig iarridh a-falbh a-nise.

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

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