The Reason Behind The Tolerance At Stormont.

Great show yesterday kid. A great show which brought a modicum of sanity to Sunshine Sally from Strabane, who was attacked by a rare, Maltese falcon as she cleaned out the guttering on her home. As the falcon repeatedly dive bombed Sally, her husband, life-long, dole, claimant Uggy, who was holding the ladder yelled, "Sally, for God's sake stop playing with the wee birdie, that DLA form won't fill itself in!"
Sally yelled, expletives deleted, as the falcon flew off with her ear in its beak. "Dammit!" roared Sally. "That big scaldie has made off with my good, fake, emerald ear ring."
Tommy my cat, my friend, companion and mentor, threw a bucket of coal on the electric fire and said, "Things are very quiet up at Stormont. Does the white, dove of peace sit, fluttering its wings on the speaker's rostrum?"
"NO!" I yelled. "The reason for tolerance at Stormont can be summed up in three words: Prozac, Valium and Temazepam."
"You don't mean..,"Yelled Tommy.
"Oh, but I do!" I roared. "After Ulster at the crossroads again, and again and a plethora of roadblocks, Prime Minister, Tony Blair, with the help of MI5, MI6 and IKEA, decided secretly to spike all food and drinks at Stormont with tranquillizers!"
"Dopegate! yelled Tommy.
"Consider this," I cried. "look at the change that has come over, spitting cobra, Peter Robinson, Sein Fein bulldog, Martin McGuinnes and serial trouser dropper, Sammy Wilson."
Tommy ran to the dictionary and yelled, "Incredible!" Tommy turned to walk away, turned and cried,
"Hold on there! Hold on there! If all MLAs are drugged, how do you explain the red-faced, ire of Jim Allister?"
"A sad story," I said. "When just a lad, young Jim Allister fell out of his tree. I refer of course to the coconut tree that grew near the Allister residence. The doctor, who was high on snuff and Spangles, injected a very, strong, horse tranquillizer into the bum of wee Jim Allister, to take away the pain in his head. EVERY SINCE THAT DAY," I roared, "Jim Allister has been immune to all forms of sedation. NO drug can calm Jim Allister down! Jim Allister, will roar, shout and gulder until the grim reaper grabs him by his red, angry neck and leads him to eternal peace."
Tommy bowed his head and softly said, "Here's to Jim Allister, a man who tells it like it is, with logic garnered from the twisting canyons of his mind."
I raised my mug of 100% proof Ovaltine and yelled, "Here's to Jim, who's like him since Mr Angry died!"