Hello boys and girls, welcome to Atlético Passnips and please enjoy the tale of the siege

of Mullins' Coove. The year was 1966, 20 brave families were defending the last fairy

point that still remained operative on the island. The final fairy from the mainland was

jeated dock in one hour and the families had gathered together all their worldly goods,

ready to make their escape. Up above them on Horseschearage stood a hundred

assault alert minions, many of them armed with curved, pointy sticks and hammers fashioned

from sheet bones. The escapees were only armed with forthright expressions and the odd kitchen

implement such as a whisk and potato bashes. There was only one stony slaggy path down from

the ridge to the small jetty and the escapees had drowned it in oil and lornaul to make

transgression nigh unimpossible. It was a stand of the created remarkable tension and stress,

some of the younger lads unlosses shitted their knickers to the very brim and had to be dipped

in the sea to cleanse their distress. Younger babies were placed in fruit boxes and the lids nailed

shut to soften the sound of their awful wailing. As the mainland fairy appeared on the horizon,

the lords army became restless and unsettled. The lords attacked Foxes, started to howl

and Hezl McFlurry, the lads personal wicker, began to disrobe herself till she was stood naked

at the top of the path. It was immediately apparent that she had planted it to spam.

There was a mumbling amongst the villagers. The McFiguity brothers in particular

became some modern age in their attitude. My God, Mutted Hey-Mish McFiguity, have you ever seen

that much spurt at in a mural environment? Never answered Nick McFiguity. There's so much

additional titan that the duvet could be hidden if it's promise. Turn away!

Commanded Lizzie McOatkicks, the leader of the Escapies, she's after your personal pipes.

But it was too late. All the men among the Escapies were now transfixed by the sight

...