Ho Ho Helicopter

This mental part of the universe I live in has lost some of its allure.
Only, I stress, because nothing can surprise me any more.
Late last night, Joe (of Joes fame) tinkled my sleigh bell.
"Whaddya doin t'morra mornin, or whaever?"
"Staying in bed, I'm dying of some awful, unspecified, disease"
"Fuck that" says he, "C'mon, we're flyin Santy to Talbotstown, see ya at 10. Bring the camera, or whatever".

(Just to explain, he meant Scoil Naomh Brid, Talbotstown, a primary school in the arsehole of nowhere. Its not even a village.)

I'm no chicken, (spring or otherwise), but one look at the fog this morning, and I said: "Meet you there, Joe"

So, I was groundside when the chopper blemmed in, all the little kiddies freezing their little mittens off in the playground, unaware that the fire drill was just a ruse to get them outside at the right time.

I cannot begin to describe the sheer, pantwetting deliria that ensued, and cant blip it either, for legal reasons we snappers know far too much about already.

But one chap, about 8 or 9, paralysed and awestruck at the playgrounds edge, battered by the downdraft, unblinking, fixated on the redsuited Hairy Lad duckwalking towards him under the rotor blades, summed it up nicely.

"Holy Fuck", says he.

So, the three of us back into the whirly, waving like the Queen of England, and off to take a spin around the county.

This is where the blip comes in.
As bizarre as this scene is, one sick shutterbug, one pseudo-Santy, and one cracked hoor at the controls, it got even worse...

Joe; "Whats yer man in the back sayin?"
Santy; "He says your a helluva guy!"
Me; "The FUCK I did, I said KEEP YOUR EYE ON THE SKY!"
(in fairness, it was very foggy...)
Joe; "Sure what the fuck for, we cant SEE ANYTHING ANYWAY"
Santy; "Hah Hah Hah!!!!!"

Wicklow Santys have funny accents.