As usual, I'm glad people are still reading this. Anyway, two of the four rhetorical questions in the A/N of the last chapter will be answered in this chapter. Hopefully, you will be satisfied with these answers.
Josh stopped cackling like a maniac. He was interrupted with a cough. Grabbing some bottled water, he took a few sips and his throat was clear again. This is what happens when you laugh too long.
"Ah, man that stuff is good!" Josh sighed. "I still can't believe Irish people waste money drinking that stuff when they have an abundant supply of drinkable tap water. Are those people capitalists or something?"
"How I should I know?" Chris demanded. "I didn't even realise Irish people had the technology to have bottled water until we came here. I was even surprised they have tall buildings, aeroplanes, buses, CCTVs, shopping centres, nightclubs, flatscreen TVs, tablet computers, porn and internet."
"Of course they have that stuff," Josh rolled his eyes at Chris's ignorance. "They are the silicon valley of Europe! Millions of companies have their EMEA headquarters in Ireland. And Irish people watch lots of porn as well. They're too busy doing that to practice their religions nowadays, it seems. What shows have you been watching?!"
"Well I liked Ireland better when I thought it was still a third-world theocracy," Chris scoffed. "There are too many Irish people who act like Harold, Noah, Gwen, Duncan, Izzy, Courtney, Heather, Scott, Geoff, Dawn and LeShawna. They hack computers, think they're smarter than everyone else, act tougher than they really are, very defensive, party too much, either think that everything is gonna be alright or that the whole world is gonna die, and do crazy shit. Pretty much like every other first world country. And they drink bottled water as well, those wasters."
"Exactly," Josh agreed. "And let's not forget how greedy they are. It costs fifteen euro for a bowl of soup when in Spain it would only cost five euro."
"That's still cheaper than a bowl of soup in France," Chris scoffed.
"Yeah, but you can forgive the French for that because they are French," Josh protested. "First the Irish acted like the British, now the act like the Americans. Soon they'll act like the French and one French race is bad enough for Europe. Do you know how much influence those two races have on the world? Future generations will be rude as fuck!"
"I thought Ireland was a small country," Chris raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah, well because of immigration, there are Irish people in every country except Mars, because nobody lives there," Josh griped. "They just come into other countries and act like they've lived there for ages; Ireland has basically colonised the whole world without even using their military. I'm starting to think these people are more Asian than European."
"And I thought I was ignorant about the Irish," Chris mused. "But let's not dwell on the power they have over the world and focus more on WHY THE FUCK HAVE YOU KIDNAPPED ME AND TIED ME UP! AND WHY THE SHIT IS YER SHIRT OFF! ARE YA TRYING TO MOLEST ME OR SOMETHING?!"
"Oh, you'll find out why I've kidnapped you soon enough," Josh smirked. "And for your information, I am shirtless because it is hot. This country is a lot hotter than I thought it was. Feels like I'm in Spain. A very expensive and overpriced Spain. Must be because of climate change of something."
"Whatever, you won't get away with this!" Chris scowled.
"So what?" Josh shrugged. "Worst case scenario I'll just have most of my sentence suspended so I'll be in jail for two years at the most. Maybe I can even be let out early for good behaviour. Then I could just go to another country and do whatever I want there."
"You are insane," Chris sneered.
"Not as insane as the idiot who lets a numerical cultist on his reality show," Josh sneered back.
"Whatever, just put yer shirt back on, please!" Chris begged.
"I told you, it's too hot," Josh protested.
"If Irish people are willing to pay money to drink water from bottles despite living on an island where it rains eleven months of the year just to make themselves look classy, then I'm pretty sure they'd rather crank up the A/C than just open a window," Chris deadpanned.
"Alright fine," Josh scoffed. "Asshole," he muttered.
"Okay, so if I remember my geography from high school and military training, we should be in Northern Ireland in twenty minutes," said Chef.
"We're in Cork," Noah quipped.
"So?" Chef shrugged
"It's gonna take about six hours to get to Northern Ireland from all the way down here," Noah pointed out.
"Well what do you know?!" Chef demanded. "Ireland is a small island. It's barely the size of Banks Island."
"That's because it is bigger than Banks Island," Noah deadpanned.
"Well- just- stop correcting me!" Chef shouted at the bookworm.
"Thank God Harold isn't here," Gwen muttered.
Meanwhile, in the Garda station, Harold woke up. He was sitting on a chair in the waiting room with his hands cuffed at the wrists behind his back.
"The Gardaí are such idiots!" Harold scoffed. "Don't they realise that I could just get up and leave! Why am I not tied to the chair?! GOSH!"
Chef and Noah were still arguing over how long it will take to get to the North.
"It will take ages, I keep telling ya this!" Noah insisted.
"Yeah? Well I'm older than ya! I've seen this world longer than you have!" Chef retorted.
"HEY!" Heather screamed. "BY THE TIME YOU TWO LOSERS STOP FIGHTING, MAYBE WE CAN FOCUS MORE ON HOW WE'LL GET THERE INSTEAD OF WHEN; OTHERWISE IT'LL TURN INTO A MATTER OF IF!"
"YOU STAY OUT OF IT, GRIMMER!" Chef bellowed.
"DON'T YOU DARE YELL AT HEATHER LIKE THAT!" Alejandro snarled at Chef.
"YEAH CHEF, YOU ASSHOLE!" Heather added.
"WE ARE GOING NOWHERE WITH ALL OF THIS YELLING!" Courtney interjected.
"I WANNA YELL TOO!" Ezekiel cut in.
"ME TOO!" Beth contributed.
"ME NINE!" Trent contributed.
"Sha-LIGHTNING!" Lightning contributed.
"EVERYBODY SHUT THE FUCK UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUPPP!" Eva roared so loud a stop sign was removed from the ground and it flew across several miles before hitting an old man in the face, causing him to stumble backwards into a firework display illegally set up by a gang of three teenagers, setting off the fireworks and exploding two buildings, killing a further thirteen people.
"Quick!" Trent urged. "Roar again so that eight more stop signs will be thrown into the air by the force of your sound waves!"
"NO!" Eva snapped at Trent. The fitness buff calmed herself down. "Now, we are going to hitchhike our way to the North and shut the fuck up about it. Clear?"
"Forget hitchhiking!" Tyler cheered. "I will jog all the way to the North, TO THE EXTREME!" He run into a wall.
"Pff, Lightning can run to the North faster than Tyler! Sha-BAM!" Lightning ran into the same wall. Everyone else, even Lindsay, facepalmed at the jocks' stupidity.
"How about we find a bus?" Zoey suggested. "If that's okay with everyone," she added.
"We would, but we don't have any euros left," Duncan groaned.
"I could whore you out to the bus driver," Mal smirked at Duncan. Zoey saw this and got turned on again. Dawn noticed this and asked Zoey:
"You approve of this?"
"Not really, but I can't help it," Zoey admitted.
"Just checking," Dawn shrugged. "But please remember that Mike is not gonna like this."
Suddenly, Mal gasped and became Mike. "What happened?" he asked.
"You don't want to know," Gwen told Mike.
"Let's just go find a way to make some money to get bus tickets," Bridgette suggested.
"Sounds good," Jo shrugged. "Let's go everyone." Everyone headed towards the city centre. Tyler and Lightning were held back by Trent, however.
"Stop! You two have to run into the wall eight more times!" Trent commanded.
"Just get a move on!" Jo ordered, grabbed Trent, Tyler and Lightning and dragging them along with her.
Will Josh tell Chris what he's gonna do to him (besides probably molest him)? Will Chris ever find out whether or not he's in Northern Ireland? Will the contestants earn enough money for bus tickets? Will Harold stop annoying the Gardaí? Find out in the next chapter, coming soon to a website near you (DUH)!
Until next time!