Torment and turf…exclusive! Latest on that honeymoon…

Well, that hasn’t been the most relaxing of honeymoons, has it?

 You will recall that Denis, Eugene and Michael got hitched up earlier this year, were then cheered on by friends and supporters, sent off on their honeymoon(s) to an exclusive part of…er…Dublin, with horns honking and tin cans spinning from their bumpers. 

  On arrival in Dublin, further ‘marriage talks’ took place, an uneasy courtship involving as many rows as it did special moments.

  Finally, Denis and Eugene (kind of) hitched up with a whole new bunch of friends for a unique, arranged marriage, but Michael threw a major wobbly moments after being dragged to the altar. 

  ‘Is there anyone here who sees any reason why this marriage shouldn’t go ahead?’ the High Priest, Enda, has asked rather nervously, only to sigh as Michael Fitz stormed off down the aisle, stopping only to throw a sod of turf in the direction of Leo Varadkar.

  So Michael was single again, after only being hitched up briefly – a sham, as it turned out – but Denis was a central figure in the new marriage and Eugene a committed partner in the arrangement too.

  But the honeymoon has been eventful, to say the least. First, reckless Finian nearly set the hotel room on fire by his constant, furtive smoking…then the rows started over who said what and when, and within weeks there was an unhealthy tension, although all involved have pledged to try and make it work.

  Early last week, things were looking up, relations were improving – the love was even returning – and then all hell broke loose when the neighbours had a huge row.

  Enda looked out the window to see what the rumpus was about, and wasn’t surprised to see Simon and Michael and Leo already downstairs sussing it out.

  ‘It’s the neighbours, they’re having an almighty row, they’re getting a big divorce’ reported a weary Michael to a startled Enda.

  ‘David, David’ pleaded Enda, but David was hightailing it down the driveway (‘I’ve had enough!).

  In the hotel bar, Nigel was in flying form, really knocking them back. Meanwhile, Jeremy went into a sulk and Boris strutted in, his blonde locks flowing.

  It looked like Boris was threatening to oversee one divorce and maybe even unsettle the new arranged marriage that had taken place in Ireland.

  The rumpus was such that everyone got out of their beds and several friends and strangers called around to give advice and try to calm things down.

  As Mick Wallace suddenly walked in, fresh from the Euros – with a new selection of (pink) shirts he picked up in a charity shop in Lille – Enda and a few more retired to the bar. Nigel was outlining his views on immigration to an ornamental statue in the corner.

  When he saw Enda looking so dejected, Micheál threw him a supportive glance.

  Who knows? The marriage may last. But the honeymoon is over!