It’s October 1st, 2003. Now, it’s unlike villagers to gossip but some of them on the Shetland Islands have been doing just that. Some have written to George W Bush and asked him to bring his War On Terror (grrhhhh) to The Shetlands.
The man at the center of this embarrassment is one Barry McFundy – a real cheeky rascal who allegedly punches women and dogs. His crimes (per head of population) far outweigh the crimes of Hitler, Pol Pot, Osama Bin Laden, and Emily Pankhurst combined. This year alone, he has already burnt down two old sheds, garrotted a penguin, pissed on a church porch, and puked on someone’s head.
What makes this fact even more disturbing is that it’s only February, and our information is only three weeks old. There isn’t a single person amongst the population of 26 who doesn’t know someone who has been affected by this ‘one man’ crime wave. When Edith Derricott’s dog got kicked up the arse, the bloke at the end of the road saw it.
Before going to print, we felt obvious concern for David Arkwell’s personal safety, so we took the precaution of telling him to ‘run down to the jetty, get in a boat, and just paddle.’ After that, we went to talk to McFundy himself. He’s quite a nice bloke, really, when you get to know him – a bit like Robbie Coltrane’s character in Harry Potter (and the Philosopher Stone) but a bit more gritty.
When we gave him a big bear hug goodbye, he almost started crying – the soft sod. A gentle giant is prone to bouts of unprovoked violence. As we sailed away from the island, we couldn’t help but ask ourselves – what is the old c*nt up to now. We saw him emerge from his shed carrying a can of petrol and a crossbow. Perhaps we’ll never know. Perhaps we are all to blame in some small measure? Who will cast the first stone? Not a clue.
