Citizens of Arklow were dealt a hammer blow this week with news of the untimely death of notorious pervert, Jimmy O Feely. The sexual deviant was often seen stalking the environs of seaside Arklow at night, sporting the latest in erotic women’s lingerie. It was here he provided the important civic duty of supervising the duck pond’s courting couples during their canoodling.
“We’ll really miss the dirty aul bastard,” said an emotional local who wished to remain anonymous. “I remember well Jimmy officiating me first ride down the Duckpond. That fateful night, I was horsing it into her like the clappers. Suddenly, I felt a short, sharp slap on me bare arse during this act of unbridled passion. “Get it into her,” the unknown voice gleefully roared from behind me.
“Startled, I jumped off your one as quickly as an aroused, leaping salmon and, to my immediate horror, it was none other than Jimmy. In a sheer panic, I ran off with me jeans still around me ankles, tripping and landing in a bunch of nettles. It wasn’t the first bush I was face down in that night, but it was certainly the more painful of the two.”
“I finally got me jeans on properly, not stopping or looking back until I had reached the safety of the white, sandy shores of the South Beach. I waited there a good three and a half hours before braving a return to the scene of the crime. To my relief, all I found was my sobbing partner, crouched in the fetal position and demanding to know why I had abandoned her. “Well, one of us was getting raped by Jimmy, and it wasn’t going to be me,” I replied. “We broke up shortly after that.”
I quizzed our humble narrator as to why he harboured goodwill towards O Feely, particularly after the horrific experience he had subjected him to.
“As you well know, contraception wasn’t widely available at the time, so I wasn’t too confident of my pull out technique that night, especially after a few flagons of cider. By hastening my, shall we say, extraction, our Jimmy saved me a lot of bother down the line, either getting her the boat to England or, worse yet, havin to marry the cunt. For that, I will be eternally grateful.”
