Secret Diary, Tuesday 1st December Part 5

Findlay was calm as you like, his eyes sparkling as he watched the STUC get closer.
'Where is Souness?' I screamed. 'Where are the Rangers 80s Squad Commandos?'
'Oh we won't be needing them Spiers' says Findlay. 'This was all just an enormous ploy by Lawwell to draw them out into the open - a trap. That's why I'm here, to save your miserable hide without risking our boys.'
'For God's sake Donald, I'm being pursued by the STUC who have an arab's bloodlust and are armed with suicide vests, tulwars and jezails, what have you got - a pipe?' I was babbling now with fear as those lunatics got closer and let up a scream as they saw us trapped.
'Watch this.' said Findlay and he reached into his cape and pulled out a vial full of a strange orange liquid which bubbled as he pulled out the cork and gulped it down in one. Then his face shook, he spasmed and bent over double and he let out a great roar as his clothes split apart and he grew to five times his size leaving an enormous, muscle bound, be-whiskered animal thing growling there before me. Jesus - one drop of the hard stuff and Donald Findlay turns into a bellowing maniac, who'd have guessed it?

Just then the first STUC member arrived in front of us and opened his robes to reveal his suicide vest. He brought up the button in his right hand, shouted 'God bless Ireland!' and pressed the button. There was a small pop and the vest fizzed. He turned to the rest of the STUC who had just arrived and exclaimed, 'For f*ck's sake Sean, I thought these were full of explosives?'
Sean looked at him angrily, 'Naw, Pat, they're no and d'ye know why? Because ah'm no missin' ra Shellick gemme thamorra night for nothin' - awright? Noo use yer tulwar, that's whit it's fur.' And they raised their great swords and charged us.
The first one to reach Findlay brought his blade down but Findlay broke it in two with the flat of his hand and then ripped his throat out with teeth the size of books. After the first spurt of blood got in my eyes I shut them and kept them shut but I could still hear the screams and the rending and the tearing and the ripping and the sound of bones being chewed apart. By the time the screaming had stopped and I had opened my eyes again, all that was left of the STUC suicide bombers was a bunch of bloody bedsheets and lots of skin and organs stuck to the walls of the City Chambers Roads Dept.

Findlay picked me up in one hand and reached with his other towards a skylight, pulling us up towards the ceiling and in a twinkling we were on the roof of the Chambers. He looked at me and growled, 'My job is done here Spiers, I'll leave you on yonder ledge to make your own way along and into the room where Hapoel are hiding, you can take them to safety from there.' And with that threw me onto the ledge and with great leaps, bounded from roof to roof towards Queen Street and out of site behind the post office building.

I made my way cautiously along the ledge pausing only once to look through a grimy window where I noticed a busy meeting going on and a white board which read 'Sale of East End Games Development to Celtic for £1 - Top Secret' What on earth could that be? I didn't stop to wonder too much though as right in front of me, hanging by his fingertips was a robed figure who'd been shoved aside during the Findlay slaughter and had crashed through a window only to hang onto the ledge by the skin of this teeth. I looked down at him and as he looked up I realised it was Aamer Anwar. 'Mercy!' he pleaded. 'Please Spiers, help me up.' I stood on his fingers and kept going, not looking back as he fell.

I eventually got into the room and guided the Hapoel squad to the front of the City Chambers where we met a delegation from the SFA who were just arriving for the reception. George Peat and Gordon Smith were there, oddly dressed as French Foreign Legionnaires. 'Hello George, Gordon, why you dressed like that?' I asked and in the midst of all the carnage, it sounded the oddest bloody thing. 'Got a fancy dress party after this reception' said Smith, 'Thought we'd kill two birds with one stone.'
Just as he said this the republican bhoys appeared at the top of the steps and charged us, their bedsheets billowing behind them, Celtic tops just visible underneath. 'Quick, get Hapoel into some taxis!' I shouted but the taxis wouldn't let in anymore than five at a time and they were slow in being flagged down. We were surely doomed. Then a stationery supplies truck pulled up to deliver to the council and Gordon Smith's face lit up. 'Hurry Spiers, get them into taxis, George and I will keep this lot back.' and he grabbed Peat and the two of them burst open some boxes from the stationery supplies van and started launching thousands of drawing pins at the rushing republican bhoys who within seconds were hopping around in agony with tacks stuck to the soles of their bare feet. Smith and Peat kept throwing pins and the republican bhoys kept hopping and I got the Hapoel squad into taxis and to safety.

Later that night I lay back in bed and considered everything that had happened but one thing kept dominating my thoughts - does this mean I'll get the wife back again?