Uachtaráin na nGaybo abú.

Hello, hello, hello there now thank you very much, and welcome to the little Áras of the Uachtaráin—ye wha', Gay?—the Áras of the an-Uachtaráin, or the Residence of the Presidents if you will thank you very much, well done to you all. Now, I came here all the way on my little Harley Davidson, all the way, all the way from my little home on the little hill of Howth, isn't that right now, thank you, thank you very much now, yes, yes. And I'd like to thank all those who voted for me in this past election to be a President indeed, especially Agnes from just down the road there around the corner now, that's right. I'd also like to thank Bono, the lovely lovely Sinéad O'Connor and of course the dear darling national broadcaster, the RTE, the Lord above be good to them all indeed, and of course Tayto crisps, all of whom, without whom none of us, none of us I say would be here today for little old uncle Gaybo's little Presidential serenade, dear O dear O deary me. And there's one for everyone in the audience...

Devil Eire beyant the grave.

'Hlo, Eeamon Oo Cweeve? Week up...it's your Grendeddy.'

Eamon Ó Cuiv wakes up in a cold sweat having heard the voice of Granda de Valera from beyond the grave. He immediately phones the Feena Fawl press office to tell them the news.

DE VALERA NOMINATES HIMSELF FOR THE PRESIDENCY FROM BEYOND THE GRAVE, runs the headline of the Irish Press, which was dead a while since. Liberal Ireland was in uproar and the Papal Nuncio was flown back to Dublin from Prague in order to explain to Enda Kenny in person that he had seen a vision of John Charles McQuaid holding hands with Our Lady of Knock appearing in the skirting board of his hotel room.

'God is angry at you for disrespecting the Holy Father, Mr Kenny,' explained the Nuncio in far worse English than that. 'This is his retribution.'

The whole presidential election shite was halted because Gawd hath ordainéd that de Valera was to be dug up and removed to the Áras at once and installed as President-for-Life-and-All-Eternity (Amen). Nordy Mary mother of Éireann was removed immediately from the Áras along with her family by An Garda Sicíní. The bastards didn't even give her a chance to pack and just fucked her belongings (and her husband) unceremoniously out onto the Twenty-Nine Acres (or whatever you call it). A Garda helicopter escorted the McAleeses (with the help of searchlights) into a safe house prepared for them in O'Devaney Gardens, North Circular Road, Dublin Seven, between St Bricin's and the pond where all the local drug dealers go to have a piss. (Note the irony of 'safe house' in this context. Refer to Chapter Four, Page Twenty-Eight, the section entitled 'Irony, Bwooh!'.)

They started digging up de Valera's grave, but when they discovered that he'd rotted away to nothing they commissioned Madame Tussaud's to make a lifelike wax replica of him that was installed in the front hall of the Áras in a glass case that Lenin would have been proud of. A ceremony was held to mark the occasion, celebrated by Archbishop Dearmit Martin and accompanied by a performance at communion by thrice-failed presidential candidate Dana Rosemary-Scallions, who treated the congregation to a lovely rendition of her hit 'All Kinds of Everything (Remind me of the Eucharist)', which was briefly at number two in the US Christian charts in 1987.

President-for-Life Eamon de Valera, 1882-1975, 2011-∞. Amen.