Nowadays when you see Óglach on the precious few occasions he’s allowed out on his own, he’s an oddly acting fellow indeed. Always walking with his head down and muttering, occasionally stumbling over his own two feet as he turns to look at a beautiful woman who is quite annoyed by his attention. Poor Óglach. He is a miserable bastard, having been married these many years and suffering all of the torments that that sacred union has to offer. But it wasn’t always so. He was once a carefree bachelor until one day…well, you’ll see.
Óglach left home at an early age to seek his fame and fortune in London, where a friend had promised him a job. But it turned out the job was full of work. He returned home to face his friends who greeted him with—-
“Told you you’d never amount to anything!”
Then another friend suggested that Óglach accompany him to Glasgow. The two had little money and no prospects for employment. It sounded like a horrible idea, so Óglach naturally agreed.
Their first night in the city, the pair went to see Edwyn Collins play, which was gas. The second night, Morlocks came up out of the sewers and ate Óglach’s friend right in front of him. Everyone back home had told the boys that things like that happen in Glasgow, but they didn’t listen. Óglach promised himself he would listen from that day forward until the next time he went back home. As he was running from the Morlocks, he spied a light on in a toy shop. He dashed inside and locked the door behind him.
As he turned around, he saw the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen (in real life, anyway). She was tall with fair skin and had long red hair that hung in luxurious curls about her shoulders. They stared at one another for a moment until the girl said—-
“So whaddaya want?”
Well, she may have looked like Drew Barrymore but she sounded like Frankie Boyle. It’s very difficult to stay enchanted, hearing an accent like that, but it was either the girl or the walking dead outside.
“I need a place to stay for the night!”
“I hear wherever you came from is nice this time of year.”
Óglach wept and wailed and pleaded and begged. Finally the girl (whose name I forget) took pity upon him.
“You can sleep at my house tonight, since you’re so deadly handsome,” she said. “But be warned! I have two brothers and they’re ferociously protective.”
“Good enough,” said Óglach. “I’ll behave myself.”
“And my father is too. I’m his only daughter and he guards me day and night. Also, he dislikes Irishmen.”
“Completely understandable. I’ll behave myself.”
“And my mother is ferocious and hates the Irish and can nag the hair off a dog.”
“I have no idea what that means, but I’ll behave myself.”
“There’s just one more thing,” the girl said, twirling her hair between forefinger and thumb and biting her lower lip.
“You’re not allowed to behave yourself.”
“If you don’t sneak upstairs and into my bed by the stroke of midnight, I will start screaming bloody murder and God only knows what my family will do to you!”
Óglach figured this test must have been for the comedic purposes of this story and reluctantly agreed. The two made their way out the front door and past the Morlocks, who had nodded off for the night. They soon arrived at the girl’s home.
Her brothers and father were big intimidating men, the sort who smile when there’s nothing to smile about. The mother was small but had flinty eyes that saw everything, even things that weren’t there. She smoked a magical cigarette that never ran down as she cooked a late supper. Óglach had never before seen such an abundance of eye of newt in a stew.
“Would you like to say grace, Paddy?” the father asked. Óglach wondered how the man knew his brother’s name, but he was used to being mistaken for him.
“Grace!” he said. They looked at him strangely. The girl held her hands as if in prayer.
“Oh! Yeah. ” Óglach closed his eyes and tried to remember that prayer his father had done that one time.
“Good bread, good meat, good God, let’s eat!” he shouted and began eating before anyone could say anything.
Soon afterwards everyone was off to bed, with Óglach sleeping in the sitting room and everyone else upstairs. The girl gave him a knowing look and mouthed the word “midnight” as she climbed the stairs. Then she slipped and bit her tongue. She tried to act all cool about it but it just made her seem even clumsier.
Óglach lay awake in the dark, remembering his promise to do something he wanted to do anyway. When he was certain everyone was asleep, he began to creep up the stairs. Halfway up, the stair below his foot yelled—-
“‘Ere, wot’s all this, then?! ‘Oos that creepin’ upstairs tryin’ to get in the young missus’ knickers?!’
It was an enchanted stair! But little did the stair know that Óglach had a magic boot, which he brought down with tremendous force, smashing the magic stair and shutting it’s stair-hole once and for all.
And he walked on down the hall…
He came to the room where the girl’s parents were. Her mother was sound asleep smoking a cigarette. Her father was snoring so loudly that no one had heard Oglach’s battle with the stair. He kept a-creeping.
The brothers were in their room playing Duke Nuke ‘Em.
Finally he came to the girl’s room. There she was, radiant in the pale moonlight and the glow of her old Donnie Wahlberg nite-light. Óglach dove into her bed and they were just getting up to some devilment when they heard a mighty crash. One of the brothers had been walking down to the kitchen for some of the healthy refreshments Scots like to eat when he stepped into the hole made by Óglach’s magic boot. He started screaming. The girl started screaming. Then Óglach screamed too, when the door flew open and here came the girl’s mother threatening him in a very graphic and anatomically precise manner. Óglach threw on his clothes and crawled barefoot out the window, as you can see in the photo above.
He escaped safely, but as he wandered the streets with only Morlocks as his company, Óglach became sad. He had grown rather fond of the obviously mental girl in their brief time together. As the sun came up he found himself standing in front of the toy store where they had first met.
“So whaddayer want?” came a voice from behind him.
It was the girl! Óglach wanted to throw his arms around her but decided to play it cool.
“That was quite a night we had last night,” he said, smiling. The girl got a confused look on her face and he had to recount the entire episode to her before she finally said—-
“Oh, that. Whatever.”
And they lived happily ever after until they didn’t.