[we go back in time to that September morning]
Brian: "Christ above! This isn't shit. This is some superglue-shit hybrid. You could trap grizzlies with this stuff." [attempts to extract welly]
Mossy: "Hey! Need a hand there?"
Brian: "Uh, yeah, thanks!"
[Mossy grabs Brian from behind]
Mossy: "You sellin' something?"
Brian: "Yeah, teflon wellies. Nah, I just called round to say hello - I'm your new neighbour; my father bought the old Cronin farm up the road."
Mossy: "Ah right!"
[an almighty SPLOOCH resounds as Mossy pulls Brian clean out of his wellies and they tumble backwards]
Brian: "Thanks for that, I think."
Mossy: "Stay there, I'll get your wellies. Say, are those Michael Bolton socks?"
Brian: "That they are. You're a fan too, I take it?"
Mossy: "Yeah he's-eh, I mean NO! No, I prefer ah...Metallica."
Brian: "Oh. Well, thanks for liberating my wellies. I'd better be off. See you around!"
Mossy: "Yeah! Heh heh, see you around!"

Narrator: And off he went, strutting back down the boreen in those skintight wellies. Oh, I'd see him around alright. I'd make a point of it. But of course, the social life in rural Ireland back then revolved around the GAA and I didn't see him until two weeks later; that was when we both turned up for training with the under-21 hurling team.....

[Coach Bastible delivers another expletive-laden speech to motivate his lads; Mossy zones out but is suddenly brought back to earth when he sees Brian running out from the dressing-room]
Coach: "...HE MIGHT SAY HE NEEDS AN AMBULANCE BUT DAT'S ONLY A FOCKIN' PLOY LADS, A PLOY. HE'S ONLY WAITIN' FOR YOU TO LOOK AWAY AND THEN HE'LL SWING FOR YOUR FOCKIN' ANKLES. AH. HERE'S THE NEW LAD NOW; BRIAN ISN'T IT?"
Brian: "Tis."
Coach: "BRIAN IS A GIRL'S NAME, ISN'T IT?"
Brian: "Tisn't."
Coach: "TIS A GIRL'S NAME UNTIL YOU FLOOR YOUR FIRST MAN. NOW GET OUT THERE, ALL OF YE!"

Narrator: And with that, we were off. Training sessions weren't normally as bloody as matches, but obviously no-one bothered to tell Brian that. He'd been on the pitch for ten minutes when he got bored and decided to take some action.....

[Brian has been given the unenviable task of marking all 6'7" of Dinny Moynihan]
Brian: "Dinny, look! Someone dropped a euro!"
Dinny: "MINE!"
[Dinny drops to the ground and gropes blindly in the grass]
Brian: "Dinny! UFO!"
[Dinny looks up only for his face to connect with a full one-eighty-degree swing of Brian's hurley; the coach blows the whistle]
Coach: "Fine work Brian, fine work!" [surveying Dinny's unconscious mangled puss] "But that's a bit much for the first night. You're off! Hit the showers, you fuckin' thug. And I'll see you here next week!"

Narrator: Oh, of course I was shocked. How could Brian have a propensity for such violence? It was only as he passed me en route to the showers that I understood; his wink said it all. I would have to act, and act quick.

[Mossy stands beside Connie Daly, a young man not noted for his propensity for quick-thinking after getting a kick in the head from a heifer on his most bizarre of christening days]
Mossy: "Connie! Look, a dead crow!" [prepares to swing hurley]
Connie: "Where?" [looks up]
Mossy [sigh]: "Jesus Connie, if it was dead it'd hardly be flapping about in the sky, would it?"
Connie: "Oh. Right!"
[Connie begins scanning the ground]
Mossy: "Connie! UFO!"
Connie: "I what?"
[Connie looks up only for Mossy's hurley to smash off the side of his head]
Mossy: "What the?"
Connie: "TITANIUM PLATES BOY!" [taps side of skull] "HAHA!"
Coach: "Mossy! Nice swing but a broken hurley is an early shower! GEDDOFF!"

Narrator: And so, with my heart in my mouth, I headed towards the clubhouse. Knowing that Brian was in there, and he balls naked. And soapy. Part of me wanted to turn around and see if I could smash another hurley off Daly's head....but that was overruled by another part.

[Mossy pushes open the clubhouse door; Brian's singing emanates from the showers. He approaches the shower cubicle slowly]
Brian [singing]: "...ah-and so you're back! From outer space! I just walked-Oh! Mossy."
Mossy: "I ah....I got sent off too."
Brian [arches eyebrow]: "Really."
[Brian steps out from the shower; Mossy tries to avert his gaze]
Brian: "I suppose I'd better put a lock on the door then."
Mossy: "Is...is there not one already on it? Sure you don't have a toolbox or nothin' like and-"
Brian: "Figure of speech Mossy."
[Brian locks the door]

Narrator: And that was it. Oh, I hadn't planned it that way - it was just the way it happened. God knows I had my doubts at first, until it seemed like I was getting encouragement from Coach Bastible himself.

Coach [from outside]: "JESUS MAN, DON'T JUST LOOK AT HIM, GRAB HIM BY HIS HELMET!"
Coach: "THE SHAFT, MAN! WHAT'S IN YOUR HAND? THE SHAFT! USE IT!"
Coach: "DON'T GIVE ME NO LIP, JUST PULL ON THAT THING!"

Narrator: Little did I know that that was only the modest beginnings of our insatiable affair. Brian would insist we did it in the riskiest of situations; on a branch overhanging an outcrop of nettles, in the back row of "The tops of the town", right beside a paddock which held a soon-to-be-debollocked bull.....nothing seemed to sate his desire for danger.
It was on that fateful day in July as we baled our hay that things came to a head. Oh, no such things as round bales back then! An honest-to-God baling machine was pulled around the field by a tractor and it turned the hay into rectangular bales. As my deaf uncle Timmy drove the Zetor, Brian helped me keep pace with the baler in case anything got stuck on the way out.

Brian: "Oh Mossy. Poor poor Mossy. I suppose you think I'm incorrigible, do you? Is that what you think?"
Mossy: "You certainly let yourself be encouraged now and again, I'd have to say, yes."
Brian [sigh]: "Never mind. Listen. How's about we try something new. How's about you and me hop up there on that baler and get jiggy."
Mossy: "HAH?!!?! Yeah, good one Brian, good one."
Brian: "Too exotic for you Maurice?"

Narrator: I knew he only called me Maurice when he wanted to rile me. So like a fool, I agreed. Oh, there was no chance of uncle Timmy catching us; he was deaf as a post and about as perceptive. So up we got. And by golly, I remember it was thrilling for the time it lasted...until Brian lost his balance and rolled off. I tried to shunt him sideways as he went over the side, but it wasn't enough. The baler's metal rakes spun viciously round and tore the nob clean off him. It's strange you know, the things that go through your head in the direct aftermath of something like that; I remember my first thought was "Well, there's a cow somewhere in north Kerry who won't be getting a strictly vegetarian meal this year".

After that, it's a bit of a blur. I remember having to throw a rock at the cab of uncle Timmy's tractor to get him to stop (as soon as I'd retrousered myself, of course). So while Timmy made his way to the nearest house to call an ambulance, I administered first aid. Please understand - first aid wasn't the most advanced back then. A length of industrial tape was kept in the tractor cab for use in the event of baler maimings, and I used most of it. I taped up his wound, then put some more tape round his chest. By the time the ambulance arrived, he was the absolute spit of "Leeloo" from "The fifth element". But I digress.

Since we lived in a close-knit community, a benefit dance was organised a month later to raise money for a prosthetic pecker. The "Bash for Baler-Bobbited Brian" attracted folk from all around, and it had the makings of a great night. Daniel O'Donnell volunteered his services as master of ceremonies, and the music was supplied by Brendan Shine, Richie Kavanagh and Motorhead (they were holidaying in the locality at the time). When the donation buckets were tallied at the end of the night, a great cheer went up! Everyone was thrilled that enough cash had been raised for Brian to be fitted with the hydraulic model with voice activation control.
Daniel insisted that Brian be brought up on stage to say a heartfelt thanks...not realising the enemy we had in our midst.

[Daniel welcomes Brian to the stage]
Daniel: "Och Brian, you must be thrilled. That's a fine prosthetic, so it is. Completely waterproof."
Brian: "It is? It doesn't say that on the brochure."
Daniel [sweating mildly]: "Does it not? Heh heh! I must be mistaken so."
[Daniel addresses the crowd]
Daniel: "Anyway, if I can just have your attention please! We'll now have a few words from Brian himself!"
[tremendous applause ensues]
Brian: "Thanks, seriously now. Listen, if we can just get the overhead projector switched on, I'd like to show you all what your generosity has enabled me to add to my life."

Narrator: And with that, he stood back and waited for the audience to appreciate the full splendour of "Kong Schlong" as it was beamed onto the wall behind him. That was when our lives came crashing down around our ears.
For beamed on the wall was not eight inches of undulating splendour, but two pallid rumps cavorting on a baler.

Brian: "What the hell?"
Daniel: "SWEET JESUS I'M RUINED! RUINED!"
[Daniel begins to run from the stage, just as another image is projected - this one clearly shows Brian and Mossy in flagrante delico]
Daniel: "Oh!" [turning to Brian] "I meant to say 'You're ruined'. Disgraceful carry-on, Brian, what WERE you thinking."
[assorted noises of outrage and fainting emanate from the crowd]

Narrator: And that was it; the end of my life in that small town. It turns out that Connie Daly had never forgiven me for that wallop on the hurling pitch, even though I was the one who broke my hurley. Despite being thicker than bottled pigshit, he'd had enough savvy to know that something was up with us. So he followed us and finally managed to get the photos he wanted as we shagged on the baler. I left that night and moved to Tralee, where this kind of carry-on was a bit more acceptable. The next time I saw Brian's face was on the front cover of an adult film called "Harry and his hydraulic horn"; his appendage served him well in that particular industry.

Of course, you don't know him as Brian now. When it transpired that his appendage was not in fact waterproof, he quit the industry and slowly worked his way up the showbiz ladder. He presents a daytime radio show now on RTE, and is doing rather well by all accounts.

Me, all I can do is sit back and think of all the craziness that ensued after that chance encounter....on Brokenback Boreen.