That’s it! I’ve had enough!
Like I said last night, it’s time we doorstepped the Editor!
You said that last night after your third pint!
You also said Mattie McGrath would make a “fascinating” Taoiseach…rotating with the two Healy-Raes!
I was actually making a serious point… that it would be good to see them having to put up or shut up! Okay…
It really is time you and I doorstepped the Editor!
I’m serious! These contract talks for our column have been going on over a year! Let’s do it!
Not THIS WEEK! Now!
(They pause to watch just one more replay of David Clifford’s sublime pass from the sideline in Kerry’s win over Tyrone last weekend)
We’re going down!
We’re gonna confront the Editor!
Have we a list of demands?
Yes! A pay increase, a taxi service to the pub, and meal expenses!
Let’s do it!
(They bravely set off on their voyage. Main Street is negotiated in a few minutes, as they keep their heads down, merely nodding at well-wishers (without stopping). In Church Street, they make the drastic scheduling error of popping into John Corcoran’s and Paddy Joe’s, leading to long (but enjoyable) delays. Eventually, they reach the Editor’s office, just before nightfall. They are hungry, but resilient)
He’s still there!
I can see a light in his office!
Wow! It’s just like in the movies, I can hear tip-tap, tip-tap, I guess he’s typing some major political story.
Actually, I think that tip-tapping is the monotone sound of rallies…
He’s watching the tennis from Wimbledon! THAT’S the tip-tap sound! Back and forth, back and forth!
Huh! I knew he wouldn’t be working this late, not with Roscommon out of the championship!
(They pause, draw a deep breath, and begin knocking on the Editor’s door)
Both: We know you’re in there! It’s the Boyos! We need an increase! We have a good time for you, but you’ve fobbed us off long enough!
(Eventually, the Editor opens the door, shaking his head. His mood is hard to judge. “Get your agent to call me! I’m thinking of starting a barter account! If you don’t have an agent, find one! Now goodnight, I’m busy!”)
Unsure whether it’s progress, or more clever delaying tactics, the Boyos trudge off into the dark night, only stopping when they see a beautiful beacon of light in the distance (Down The Hatch)