Paddy was minding his own business driving back to Limerick from Kilkee in County Clare.
As he entered the townland of Lissycasey, a big fat and near to retirement age Garda, you know the type, jumps out from behind a bush brandishing a speed gun and waves Paddy to a stop.
“You were speeding,” says the guard. “Doing thirty-three in a thirty zone.” He continued.
“Feckit Guard,” says Paddy “I didn’t see no fecking sign. It must be covered by them bushes.”
“Bushes or no bushes, I’m giving you a ticket and a hundred euro fine,” say’s Brian the Guard. Now show me your tax, licence, insurance and registration documents.” Brian continues.
“Shur, I don’t have any tax, licence, insurance and shur, the fecking car isn’t even mine. It belongs to the guy in the boot, I hit him over the head with me revolver when I stole his car.”
“Jaysus!” Said the Guard as he backed away and jumped over the nearest ditch while frantically calling for back-up on his radio.
Within ten-minutes back-up consisting of two unmarked and three patrol cars had arrived from Kilrush.
A helicopter hovered overhead and a nervous Superintendent wearing a bullet-proof vest approaches Paddy’s car where Paddy was nonchalantly listing to Lyric FM belting out classical music on the radio.
“Is this your car?” asks the Superintendent.
‘Tis to be sure.” Answers Paddy — all respectful like.
“And do you have tax, insurance and a license?”
“I do indeed,” says Paddy handing them out through the window.
“And do you have a gun and a body in the boot?”
“Jaysus No!” Says Paddy, “who told you that pack of lies?”
“Why he did — that garda over there,” says the Super.
“Well, the fecking liar,” says Paddy “I suppose he fecking told you I was speeding as well………”
BLOG COMMENTS POWERED BY DISQUS
