Oracles and Dark Forces.

Great show yesterday kid. A great show which brought some consolation to SDLP leader, doctor Alasdair McDonnell, as he sat in a darkened room, waiting for the sun to go down. Meanwhile, arch knave, Alex Attwood, arrayed in doublet and laddered hose, was spreading mischief. "He's a vampire!" yelled Attwood,
"Our esteemed leader Alasdair McDonnell is a-vampire! He can't stand the light. He has no reflection and his eyebrows meet in the middle!"
"As a woman," shrieked Margaret Richie, "I can only say, Alasdair hasn't tried to bite MY neck!"
"It would take some fangs to bite through your auld scrawny, Deirdre Barlow neck!" yelled Attwood. "What are we going to DO? Alasdair McDonnell is a-vampire, a creature of the night, a blood-sucking monster. We must hammer a stake through his heart!" screamed Attwood. "THEN! I can claim my rightful inheritance."
"Don't stir the buttermilk," said Joe Byrne from Tyrone. "First we must consult the Oracle."
Mark Durkin, sat in a cobwebbed cave, wearing a rabbit-skin cloak. His long, tangled hair hung down to his waist and his dark, brooding eyes seemed to hold all the knowledge known to man.
"MARK!" screamed Attwood. "Don't you know me? It's wee Alex Attwood!"
"Come closer child," croaked the Oracle. "My how big and ugly you've grown. What can I do for you my son?"
Attwood opened his mouth and said, "The reality is..."
"STOP!!!" yelled the Oracle, holding his hands to his ears. "The reality is, is a false doctrine. Once I led my life by, 'the reality is', and look at me now! The reality is, is bunkum and balderdash. You must banish 'the reality is' from your life!"
"But Mark!" screamed Attwood. "You know better than most, that all members of the SDLP start their sentences with, 'the reality is'"
"Better then to be DUMB!" cried the Oracle, gathering up his rabbit-skin cloak and disappearing into a crevice.
SO! all SDLP political messages on TV, from on now, will be in sign language. As to whether Alasdair McDonnell is a vampire or not-we must wait and see. The first sign will be cases of sheep worrying all over Northern Ireland.
Tommy my cat, stirred the ashes in his mother's urn and said, "So, we still don't know! Here we sit with throbbing throats, still not knowing if Alasdair McDonnell is indeed a vampire. I will find out!" yelled Tommy. "I go now to consult with Michael McGimpsey and Nigel Dodds." With Tommy gone a great fear came over me. McDonnell, McGimpsey, Dodds. By Dracula's drawers, I was surrounded by dark forces! I wrapped a loaf of garlic bread round my neck and waited Tommy's return.
OH Lord, God almighty, send down your holy light and keep McDonnell, McGimpsey and Dodds confined to their rooms!!!.