“FUCK I’M SO SORRY!”





“Did you seriously just sexually assault me?!”





“No! I’ve just dropped my book, I was trying to pick it up!”





“Did I give you consent to touch my ankle?”





“I swear it was an accident! It’s so crowded here!”





“It’s 2038. I should be able to take a fucking luas without being raped”





“I….I…I…listen can you not report this please?”





“Hmmm I suppose we can come to a deal. What book are you reading?”





“The Winds of Winter by George R. R. Martin. It just came out last week”.





“Give me that”





Aisha ripped out the last twenty pages, put them in her pocket and handed the book back to her assailant. The man bolted out of the open doors when the luas arrived at the next stop.





Aisha chuckled. She couldn’t blame him. A news article she read last week was saying how a creepy man on the luas had been making prolonged eye contact with a female passenger. The man was promptly reported to the authorities and arrested by the PC Brigade several hours later. During the trial in Dublin’s Central Sharia court, the rape victim’s impact statement swayed the all women jury to return a unanimous verdict of guilty.





The man’s lawyer had repeatedly pointed out that his client was blind. As if that justified anything, thought Aisha. He was 82 years old, you would think he’d have had more sense. Goes to show you can’t trust anyone these days. The rapist was sentenced to death by public stoning in the Aviva Stadium.





Aisha glanced at her phone. She was supposed to be at Halawa Street over 10 minutes ago. Her boyfriend Kamal would be wondering where she was.





th Anniversary of the Feminazi Islamic Republic. After what seemed like an eternity, the luas reached Halawa Street. Today was a national holiday, so the city was extremely busy. Everyone had come out to celebrate the 10Anniversary of the Feminazi Islamic Republic.





It was an unusually hot day and several groups of young people were seeking shade in the shadow cast by the statue of Ibrahim Halawa. Since she didn’t see Kamal anywhere, she decided to do the same while she waited.





Aisha had always liked the statue. It was of a smiling young man raising a passport triumphantly into the air, the word “REPEAL” emblazoned on his t-shirt. When she was a small child, her mam once mentioned that there stood a 400 ft spire on this very spot. It sounded like nonsense but there was no way to prove her wrong. In school little history was taught relating to years dating pre-2028 and references to the “dark times” were strictly monitored by the Sharia Courts.





The government, led by Katherine Zappone’s coalition of Islamic Feminazis and Gender Fluid Atheists was always vigilant against threats to the new tolerant, progressive and multicultural Ireland. The internet was especially monitored and controlled.





She looked at her phone to check the time. It just wasn’t like Kamal to be late like this. All she had was a text from him 20 minutes ago saying he was passing the George Soros monument on Suffolk street and he should be there soon. Then nothing.





10 minutes later, her phone rang. It was her mam.





“Hello? Can I call back later? Me and Kamal are just going to the Savoy to see the new all-female reboot of Michael Collins”.





“Aisha, listen I’m sorry to tell you this but you need to come home now. They’ve taken Kamal”





“Who’s taken Kamal, what’s happened? You’re not making any sense!”





“The PC Brigade have taken Kamal into custody, I just heard from his mother. She told me he was overheard saying some things on the bus, something about the gender pay gap being a myth, and someone must have reported him. I’m so sorry but you need to come home right now, they’ll be coming for y…”





Her phone was suddenly snatched from her hands. Before she could react, a bag was placed over her head and her hands were placed in handcuffs.





“PC BRIGADE, YOU ARE UNDER ARREST FOR CONSORTING WITH A KNOWN MISOGYNIST AND RAPIST. DO NOT RESIST”.





Aisha fainted.

*************************************************************************************************************

When Aisha came to, she was surrounded by a small group of elderly men in a room with no windows. On the wall was a statue of a semi naked man, nailed to a plus sign.





“What the actual fuck is going on? Am I under arrest?”





One of the men answered her.





“Apologies you must be in an awful muddle. We had to be a little rough to make it appear as if we were actually arresting you. The uniforms helped too, no one dared interfere. I worked undercover in the PC Brigade for several years which came in handy for our little subterfuge. Don’t worry. You’re quite safe with us. My name is Luke”.





“Wait, so you’re not the PC Brigade? Then who are you and why have you brought me here? What’s that creepy statue supposed to be? Is this some kind of sex dungeon?”





The tall man next to Luke spoke: “She doesn’t even recognise our Lord, what has this country come to? For years we kept warning everyone how political correctness had gone mad, no one listened to us”.





“Maybe we should start at the beginning so not to confuse our guest any further?” said Luke. “We mean you no harm but before we tell you what we need from you, we should introduce ourselves. We belong to an organisation known as the Catholic Church”.





“Never heard of them".





“That doesn’t surprise me unfortunately. There's very few of us left now but for decades the church were the guardians of morality and decency in Irish society. We built its hospitals, its schools and cared for many of its children, expecting nothing in return. It may be difficult to believe now but the man on the wall, Jesus Christ, died for your sins”.





“So, if you guys did all these things, why does no one care about you now?”





Luke scratched his head uncomfortably. “There were…..one or two…..minor scandals, misunderstandings even. Barely worth mentioning. But what’s important is over time the church’s influence began to dwindle. There was the divorce referendum, the same sex marriage referendum and finally the referendum to repeal the 8 th amendment”.





“I don’t understand the problem”.





“It didn’t stop there. After the 8 th amendment was repealed, Irish liberals lost the run of themselves. They banned the Angelus before RTE news, introduced mandatory drinking in pubs on Good Friday and made Islam the state religion. Not only this, they kept raising the abortion limit from initially 12 weeks to 24 weeks and eventually 52 weeks”.





“Isn’t that always the way things have been?”





“No. And worst of all is what the PC Brigade did to the down syndrome community. The children were aborted and the adults stoned to death. Kevin show yourself”.





A man who had up until now been hovering towards the back of the group stepped forward.





“What’s up with his face?” asked Aisha. The men gasped.





Luke interjected: “Friends, she doesn’t know what she’s saying. She’s been brainwashed by a society which has lost its moral compass. This is Kevin, he is the last person with down syndrome in Ireland. We keep him safe here where he can’t be found”.





Luke produced a bundle of papers from a briefcase. “This is the original constitution of Ireland, written by deValera himself in 1937. Before it was slowly stripped apart and rendered meaningless by the PC Brigade. This is how things used to be, how they need to be if people like Kevin are ever going to have a decent chance at life”.





He handed the constitution to her. Aisha spent a minute glancing through it.





“Wait, what’s this about a woman’s place being in the home?”





“Never mind that. We know your boyfriend has been arrested by the PC Brigade and is likely to be executed for questioning the causes of gender pay disparity. Are you willing to do whatever it takes to save him?”





“Of course, I love him. We'd been talking of settling down one day”.





“So, our interests are aligned. We both need society to change back to the way it was if Kamal is to be rescued and if the church is to control, I mean liberate, the country. Aisha. Are you ready to save Ireland?”





“I’m ready”.

*************************************************************************************************************

Kamal had been sitting alone in the interrogation room for almost 3 hours, his wrists handcuffed to his chair. His arrest by the PC Brigade had happened so quickly and his memory was still fuzzy. From the persistent pain in the back of his head, he must have been knocked unconscious.





Why had no one questioned him yet? Had they forgotten about him? What sort of barbaric tortures were they planning? He was only 18, barely an adult. Surely that was too young for the death penalty?





RTE broadcast public stonings daily before the Six One news, but he wasn’t like those criminals. Stoning was only for serious crimes, like the man last year who had smuggled banned copies of the Bible into the country.





The door to the interrogation room suddenly swung open. Two members of the PC Brigade entered the room and sat down on the chairs opposite Kamal. Both wore matching hijabs as well as black t shirts containing the word “REPEAL” in large white writing.





The woman on the left spoke. “My name is Nabeeda and th”





“YOU FUCKING RAPIST SCUM”. Kamal didn’t have time to blink before the woman on the right screamed and slapped him across the face.





Nabeeda continued unfazed: “And this is Saila. She has a bit of a temper. You better answer our questions truthfully if you want to keep that pretty face of yours”.





Kamal stuttered in shock: “Wha, what do you want me to say?”





Saila raised her fist and Kamal flinched. “Just tell us what happened from when you got on the bus at 3.42pm this afternoon” Nabeeda responded.





Kamal’s ears were still ringing from the blow he had received. “I was on the bus to meet my girlfriend in town, so we could see a film together”.





“Which film?” interrupted Saila.





“The new remake of the Michael Collins film, the one with the all-female cast. I got talking about the film to a woman sitting next to me on the bus. I just said it didn’t make sense to have Saoirse Ronan playing Michael Collins. Wasn’t he supposed to be a man? I mean, his name’s Michael”.





“HOW THE FUCK WOULD YOU KNOW WHAT GENDER MICHAEL COLLINS WAS”





Nabeeda put her hand on Saila’s arm. “Let the filthy rapist finish before we decide if he’s guilty”.





Kamal panicked. “I’m not a rapist! I’ve never broken the law in my life! I do everything I’m supposed to do. I filled out the consent forms before I first held hands with my girlfriend. When I did my Leaving Cert I always waited half an hour before starting each exam paper, to make up for our sexist education system. I always pee sitting down and…”





“And yet here you are. Stop whining and finish your confession”.





“…the woman I was talking to was saying how nice it was to see more films with strong female characters. She said that it makes a welcome change from real life where women are second class citizens and only paid a fraction of what men earn. I said that’s not just sexism but partly due to career choices and”





Saila grabbed Kamal’s head and smashed it against the table.

While Kamal clutched his head in pain, Nabeeda reached into her rugsack and drew out a pliers and blowtorch.





“I believe we’ve heard enough. Saila, I can get to work on his balls if you want to start taking off his fingernails. You’re always so much better at that than I am”.





“NO! PLEASE DON’T. I’LL DO ANYTH.”. Nabeeda’s phone rang, cutting him off.





Kamal couldn’t hear what was being said on the other end of the line, but whatever it was, Nabeeda didn’t seem pleased.





“What? What do you mean you can’t find her? Are you sure? No. Leave it with me”.





She ended the call and turned towards Kamal.





“Looks like your rape enabling cunt girlfriend is missing. We just wanted to have a friendly chat with her. We’ll have to leave your interrogation to some other time. In the meantime, we’ll find you a cell where you can sit and think about how fucked you are”.





Kamal felt relief wash over him. He wasn’t in any immediate danger and Aisha had somehow managed to escape the PC Brigade. But where was she? He hoped she was safe.





*************************************************************************************************************

" Are you sure this is safe?”

Aisha was conscious that everyone in the room was staring at her intently.





“Of course it’s safe, we won’t let any harm come to you”, responded Luke. The other men quickly murmured and nodded in agreement.





She had spent the past several hours in the company of these twelve men, who referred to themselves as priests. It was a bit unusual, but from what she gathered they had lived through some unusual times. She had learned more about her country in the past few hours than she had throughout her entire time in school.





She learned how corrupt and immoral society had become. Many of her friends were gay and she had never seen anything unnatural about it before. She now saw that her friends were confused, and they would be more fulfilled repressing their desires and hiding who they are, as the creator intended.





Sex was a precious gift from God and meant for procreation, not pleasure. When she thought of the frequent sex she and Kamal had often enjoyed together she felt a spasm of guilt. When this was all over she couldn’t wait to tell him how sex should be practiced strictly within the confines of marriage, between a man and a woman exclusively, never with a condom and only in the missionary position with the lights out. It angered her how political correctness had been blinding her this entire time.





Life began at conception, with the foetus gaining consciousness, complete self-awareness and a fully developed nervous system the instant the sperm fertilised the egg. She saw abortion for the baby genocide it really was.





“Aisha are you still with us?”





“Sorry. I shouldn’t have doubted you. From what you’ve told me, the Church has a history of always telling the truth”.





Aisha took the two pills from Father Luke’s outstretched hand and swallowed them.





“Remind me what these do again?”





“The miracles of modern biotechnology, not something an old geezer like me would normally get involved with. The green pill will dissolve a special chemical in your bloodstream which will allow us to track your location. So we can intervene if anything goes wrong. Don’t worry about the other pill, just something to keep you focused”.





“Can we go through the plan one more time?”





“Of course. We will drop you back at Halawa Street, sending an anonymous tip to the PC Brigade as to your location. You will then be arrested for real this time and escorted to PC Brigade headquarters, around the same time Taoiseach Katherine Zappone will be giving a televised speech there about granting new powers to the PC Brigade. We have placed a bomb inside the headquarters, close to where Zappone will be giving her speech. When the bomb goes off, you can use the distraction to search for Kamal and rescue him”.





“But how will I know where Kamal is? If you managed to get in and out safely before to place the bomb, could you not do the same now to save Kamal?”





“Don’t you trust us? It’s all been carefully planned. Everything will be fine”.





“I’m sorry, I’m just being silly”.





“It’s no problem, but we don’t have time right now for your womanly emotions. Go on upstairs and get ready. I’ll be up in a minute, we just have to quickly discuss something, completely unrelated to what we’ve been talking about”.





Aisha thanked Luke and left.





Luke turned towards the other priests. One of them spoke up.





“Do we have to use her as the bomb? Is there no other way?”





“Yes, we’ve discussed this. It’s too late now anyway. She’s already swallowed the combustion pill, she only has two hours before the bomb explodes. We can’t afford to get soft now. Once Katherine Zappone and the PC Brigade are gone, we will need to move quickly. RTE headquarters won’t be as well guarded but we can’t get complacent. There’s too much at stake”.





“I know, it’s just she’s such a nice girl”.





“Sometimes sacrifices have to be made, for the greater good”.





*************************************************************************************************************

Kamal paced restlessly around his cell. He couldn’t stop worrying that something had happened to Aisha.





A sign on the wall opposite his bed proclaimed:

ISLAM IS PEACE

POLITICAL CORRECTNESS IS FREEDOM

MATRIARCHY IS EQUALITY





There was a small tv in the corner of his cell, with RTE 1 being the only available channel. The 9 o clock news had just started. It looked like Taoiseach Katherine Zappone was giving a speech. She was flanked by several members of the PC Brigade. Wait, was that Nabeeda? Was Zappone at PC Brigade headquarters right now?





The door to his cell suddenly opened and Aisha was pushed inside.

Kamal heard Saila’s voice. “You have 20 minutes to make the rapist prick change his tune or I swear to Savita Halappanavar you’re both going to wish you’d been diagnosed with down syndrome in the womb so you’d never been born”.





The cell door slammed shut.





“Aisha, are you ok? Did they hurt you?”





“Kamal listen we don’t have much time. The PC Brigade think I’m in here to convince you that the gender pay gap is caused exclusively by sexism, and something to do with Michael Collins being a woman. But I’m really here to rescue you. There’s a bomb in the building and we need to get out of here before it goes off. It’s gonna kill Zappone and the PC Brigade so kind men like Father Luke can run the country. The church helped me rescue you because it cares about people. I can’t wait to tell you all about them”.





“What are you talking about? How are you going to rescue me? The cell door is locked!”





“Oh I don’t know! Father Luke told me it was all going to be ok. Oh look, there he is! Wonder why’s he’s on the tv?”





The news had suddenly cut off and in its place there was an elderly man sitting behind a desk. Just above him Kamal could see a picture of an American looking man with a beard and long brown hair, his heart placed in his hand and covered in thorns.





The man began to speak.





“Friends. I am here today with a very special message on behalf of the Catholic Church. I know most of you still remember us, even if you’re too scared to admit it. Political correctness has gone mad. This country has lost its way, with the church being removed from its rightful place in our schools, hospitals, media, bedrooms and constitution. Homosexuality, divorce, contraception and abortion have destroyed the family unit. Feminazi Islamic Atheists, led by Katherine Zappone and the PC Brigade, have corrupted our society to its core. But no longer. Something wonderful is about to happen and this once pure nation is going to get a second chance. All I’m asking is that when the time comes, every one of you fight for what’s right. Let’s put an end to progress. Let’s turn back the clock. Let’s make Ireland the proud Catholic country it once was!”





The broadcast ended.





“Aisha, what the fuck is happening? Please don’t tell me you’re involved with this!”





“It’s ok. Everything is going to be ok. We’re going to fix the country and stop all the political correctness and the baby killing and people just having sex with whoever they want!”





“Aisha stop this madness! This isn’t you”.





“Of course it is! Look into my eyes. See how happy I am! Look what happens when you put your faith in the church!”





Aisha exploded.





********************************** 6 Months Later ************************************





“You did well. Now clean yourself up and remember to keep this our little secret”.





The altar boy stood up and left the sacristy, limping slightly.





Luke sat down and smiled to himself. His sermon today had been a particularly good one. He had tackled a difficult story which had been all over the news for the past week. “Miss Z” was a mentally ill young girl of 13 who, after being raped by her father, brothers, uncles and grandfathers, had become pregnant.





She was told by her doctors that there were complications with the pregnancy and that the child had no chance of surviving outside the womb. The girl was also told that the childbirth would be extremely dangerous, with an almost certain chance that she would die too. In case this wasn’t enough, the foetus was carrying an extremely rare contagious and terminal disease, which would be quickly passed to everyone in the vicinity upon the baby being born.





The girl had to be placed in a mental institution on suicide watch. Some of her family had attempted to sneak the girl recently illegal abortion pills. However luckily one of the doctors managed to intervene and report the situation to the Pious Catholic Brigade, Ireland’s newly set up police force. The Pious Catholic Brigade promptly ensured that the girl was restrained and watched for the remainder of her pregnancy.





During childbirth the girl bled severely and died of natural causes. Every cloud has a silver lining and, while the girl’s death was unfortunate, the child surpassed expectations by surviving outside the womb for almost an entire minute. It was enough time for the hospital priest, who had been strictly monitoring the childbirth, to quickly baptise the child before the entire hospital caught the disease and passed away. A baby’s life and soul saved, all in a day’s work!





Every day, new signs emerged that Ireland was rediscovering the great country it once was. All legislation enacted by the government was sent to the Vatican for prior review. No longer would the snowflake generation stop anyone from saying or doing exactly what they wanted. Freedom of speech and deed would never be curtailed again, with the necessary exception of blasphemy and unnatural sexual practices. The Church had even proved its generosity by setting up dozens of homosexuality conversion therapy clinics, in an attempt to halt the dramatic unexplained rise in suicides within the gay community.





Ireland also closed its doors to any further refugees from Muslim countries. The Irish had learnt their lesson there. Ireland had enough problems and needed to look after its own, with the exception of homeless single mothers who just wanted a free house or the unemployed who just wanted free money for drink or rape “victims” who were usually asking for it by dressing like whores.





The Motherhood Protection Act was another resounding success. Women no longer had to worry themselves about finding work and stressing about careers while not being able to spend enough time with their children. Men could be men again and wouldn’t have time to fret about their emotions (or “mental health” as the PC Brigade used to say) as they reasserted their role as sole breadwinner in the household.





After a period of political turmoil, the race to replace Zappone as Taoiseach had begun. Several good conservatives had come out of hiding and were putting their names forward. The three front runners were Ronan Mullen, George Hook and Peter Casey.





Luke thought about Aisha, and how her bravery had helped finally free Ireland from the chains of political correctness. He wondered how much pain could have been spared if the Irish people had shown similar bravery at crucial moments in recent history, such as the 2018 abortion referendum. Ireland could have turned the tide against evil and become a shining example of Catholic theocracy for the rest of the world.





Luke glanced at the clock on the wall. It was time for the next mass of the day.





Every week mass attendance was growing, the collection plates brimmed with money and Luke felt 20 years younger. He had another long sermon prepared on the dangers of masturbation.



