Once again, the latest and the greatest in scandal-mongering hot gossip from Anarchy Central’s 24/7 Truth & Rumour Mill – with dispatches hand forged and crafted into bespoke satire to tempt the palates of all budding nihilists and career revolutionaries who carry the immortal bloodline of the rebel sons of Belial.
Out in the North Atlantic, on the wind-swept sacred islet of Rockall, beloved of shipping weather forecast fetishists world-wide, the Fire and Rescue Service has suffered a panic fit and gone into headless chicken mode after receiving more than 1,300 complaints about smoke alarms fitted during their EUSSR-mandated retirement home safety visits.
The faulty alarms, purportedly designed and manufactured to last for 10 years, are bleeping intermittently after about two weeks and driving geriatric residents to distraction and despair.
As the batteries are sealed, there is no easy way to disable the alarms – apart from hitting them repeatedly with a heavy walking stick or a Zimmer frame.
However the service has now announced it will prioritise refits after several pensioner residents went into self-harming mode and committed ritual seppuku due the smoke alarms beeping away 24/7 and disturbing their weekly Strictly Come Dancing ‘laughter segment’ when Ann Widdecombe impersonates a drunken hippo’ and gets dragged around the floor on her fat arse.
Mr Frank McSlagg, 96, a resident of Periwinkle Point and former chief engineer at the island’s ‘Guano Pit’ fertiliser plant, claims to have had a total of three of the dodgy alarms fitted by fire crews.
"One went off in the middle of the effin’ night an’ I shit me pyjama bottoms cos I thought it were the air raid siren like wot we had in the Blitz when those German bastards used ter bomb us.”
“I would have fixed it meself but I’m not allowed ter stand on chairs anymore since the daily care worker caught me up on one doin’ a bit of voyeur spyin’ through the bathroom window on that big-titted slapper from next door sun-bathin’ stark-bollock-naked in the garden – and she thought I were tryin’ ter hang meself.”
Frank Bogbrush, chief of Rockall’s Fire and Rescue Service, told one reporter from the Snafu Gazette "90% of the fucking things are malfunctioning – an’ we certainly wouldn't be expecting this number to go wrong if they were any fucking good in the first place. Ah well, yer pay next ter nowt fer Third World crap an’ this is what yer get – crap."
“We’ve already replaced 462 of the useless pieces of kit with units just the same an’ we’re gonna be hard-pressed to afford a more reliable type of alarm an’ get them all fitted before someone ignores the thing beeping an’ gets asphyxiated with smoke or barbequed in bed one night.”
”Plus this replacement work is interfering with our regular emergency call-out duties – like when we had a flock of sheep on fire up on Great Auk Tor last week after they got side-swiped by a bolt of lightning. By the time we got there they was well roasted. Luckily one of the lads had a jar of mint sauce with him – so we scraped the burned bits of fleece off and tucked in. Very tasty indeed.”
One Fire and Rescue Service whistle-blower who works undercover for Ox-Rat, the international snitch and grasser watchdog charity, told gutter press hacks that the Chinese-made alarms were bought from the Beijing-based ‘Sweat Shop Shite Corporation’ as part of a national purchasing deal set up by Peter Scandalson, before he was bestowed with the Second Estate title of Vermin in Ermine - and still held the post of Trade Commissioner for the EUSSR in Brussels.
Do you live on a remote islet in the North Atlantic? How are your smoke detectors functioning? Did you buy one from Pound Stretcher or a pikey car boot sale? Do you know anyone who lugs a jar of mint sauce around in their pocket?
Allergy warning: This article was written in a known propaganda-infested area and may contain traces of slight exaggeration, modest porkies, misaligned references and lashings of bush telegraph innuendo.
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