Phizit. . . You are tuned to Radio Crackle, broadcasting all across Mulhuddart. And now a request. Fintan, working in the abattoir, wants to play a song for Molly, who's just about to sit her final exams for her degree in metallurgy. He'd asked me to say would you please meet him on Ergal's Tuft, down by the river on Wednesday and this week, a country classic from Brendon Hole and the Chancers. It's called Lady Yizzir Lookin' Mighty In That Get-Up here we go now.

Oh dusk and dawn are melding While I make this horse a- gelding His yells get me het up While I dream of your pop socks and your get-up

How my heart wants to house her My love is as long as my trouser

Wasn't that lovely? The time now about four o'clock and it's over Pontious Herod with the sports news.

Tankyew. Internationally our boys fared well with the Brazilians after what looked likely to be an early defeat. Down 24-0, the lads rallied round and appeared in the second half armed with hurlies. The dirty coffee pickers feigned head injuries shortly into the game but the blood was proven to be fake after the lads had a quick word with the ref who turned a different colour and got sense. All goes to show you can't keep the lads down and you never know where you are with a fellow who wears a poncho. Isn't that right Eamonn?

Eamonn Hunchy: Der an appawling tee-am. An abzolute dizraze. Wer in de worrrld wud you fint zuch. . . Pontious: Shut up now Eamonn.

E: Datz appawling. How der you do datz. . . Well done there the boys. Over now to our agony aunt, Una Dose. Caller on line 1 for you, Una.

Caller: (Sob). . . (sob). . . (sob). . . (sob). . . Una: Well I think she should leave him.

Caller: (sob). . . It's a her.

Una: Leave her.

C: She (sob) left me.

U: Get her back.

C: She's (sob) dead.

U: Ah. Have a cake.

C: I'm (sob) allergic.

U: Ah Jaysus. . . Great stuff Una. Now it's time to go the latest instalment of our weekly drama, The O'Langllerterys.

. . . (FX: 14,000 sheep run- ning backwards over expensive crockery). Farmer Boylin: I'll tell you something. It's that German student we hired. . . Against my wishes Peadar, I might remind you. He's the source of all this. Sheep are frightened of him. (FX: A gate being turned, in a German way). Mittgenstien: Hehllo.

FB: Fine day Franz. . . M: In deh meanik of brite orr tenuous, fragile orr dervise elusive to deh zenzes?

MB: Have you been talking to the sheep Franz?

M: Chust a liddle. Unzo vats vor launch?

MB: (Angrily) Here, staple this plastic bag between your knees, I'll get the soup. Tune in next week to find out what happens when Franz discovers 13 elements not listed in the periodic table in his sandwiches.

Now from one sublime scenario to another. Joining me in the studio are Lulu McGlue, the aviatrix and market gardener, Johnny Hoist, who collects epaulettes and Devlin McDevlin, the well-known spy. . . for this week's edition of Forum, where we discuss. . . eh. . . things. Now Lulu, what did you think of the recently banned film Big Splashy Rude Boys?

Lulu: I haven't been able to see it. It's banned.

Johnny: I disagree with Lulu. . . structurally it's very close to the later works of my beard.

Devlin: That's ridiculous and I'd just like to point out that I'm wearing glasses.

J: That's as may be. . . Everybody: ASWUDJASHADDUP!

So there you are, or not, as the case may be, if there is one. Don't go away because coming up we have a live report from the inter-parish mud wrestling contest. . . Radio Crackle. . . non-stop. . . phizitz. . .