Fish Pedicure Prices Slashed!
With street riots escalaiting in London, stock markets crashing globally, and bed bugs proliferating in posh capitals, a ray of hope has just surfaced in Ireland. Due to a “market correction” the price of fish pedicures has been slashed by up to 70 percent in both Cork and Dublin.
The days of 7 million annual Irish trips to sun in the fun holidays in places like Tenerife may be dead and gone. But now, for as little as 10 euros you can walk into an American styled shopping mall, disrobe in public, and lower your trembling milky white extremities into a kind of kid plastic play tub and luxuriate as vast schools of minnows nibble at your manky feet, knowing you will not even have to bring your own towel and have been gifted with a new kind of Flann O’Brien fun holiday that your neighbours never dreamed of.
“This is the best thing to come to Ireland in yonks. It tickles!” cooed a shapely and skimpily clad sort named Theresa as she played toesy with her tootsies with some tan Tetras who were exploring her lapidarian gaps and samas scents. “To think of the price! It’s the same as two pints but sooo much better for you! And we are talking almost Carbon Neutral!”
Cameras clicked and flashed at the comesome sights of Theresa’s tootsies doing the tete-a-tete with the ooh and aah tickling Tetras, it now being routine in Ireland for every one of 79 supermodels on hire from the Irish Colleens Agency to disrobe before photogs for whatever Supermacs or Bord Na Moana is introducing next and bare gleaming ivories that shout, “We’re not shy anymore!”
However, it was at this point that our hero Raymondo Lloyd emerged from the depths of his gothic to feral dwelling and began taking off his 500 euro, London-bought Church shoes. For the day’s event, he had donned the same tweed trousers he had worn to his San Francisco triumphal march through San Francisco with eye-patch and poodle gonzo journalist Warren Hinckle, and Bernie Murphy, the illiterate Cork sandwich board tout seeking a new set of teeth and a powerful political position that Ray swore could be his, and who Raymondo had brought there to collect a 1 million dollar check to help Ireland from then Mayor Diane Feinstein. That bounced.
Truth is, everything Raymond Lloyd was wearing dated back to that time, and sad to say his washing machine has been broken since. One might say he is more Irish than Theresa. Some muttered that he had come to the fish pedicure tank for a long overdue wash.
“Look at the likes of him, and will he never stop his anarchy!” screeched the newest ”Lord Mayor” in gold necklace.
But then, in a stip tease that could clear any Gaza Strip, Raymondo settled in with a belly splash to the nether end of the fishful plastic water tank. “This is even more beautiful than the 5 percent cut in haircut taxes, and the replica of the White House being built in Tipperary” he said. “Is this what all the peddlars of bouncy castles have gotten into now, once the word got out in Ireland Unhinged.”
No sooner had Raymondo’s waves tsunamied onto her did Theresa stand up fierce and dog wringing her now contaminated droplets off of her good body. Never would she let such a disruptive character into such a sanctum as her tanning parlour. Why she loved Ireland so much, and this, this …. travesty of decency, this resurrection of Brendan Behan.
Reader note. Both types are true to modern Ireland, one less so than the other, so take your pick. And so called “fish pedicures” are indeed spreading over the land.
(Disclaimer — Tootsie Theresa was a model paid to undress by Bord Failte in the hallowed ne
