Somewhere in a parallel universe, a large function room in Co. Kill Dare was brimming with hope, excitement, and alcohol, wherein the Blogerati had gathered, in glorious fancy-dress, for the Oirish Blog Awards.
At Table 1, smiles were sweet. At Table 22, three people were – ironically – playing Connect 4. At Table 666, Mara was spitting fire.
“She’s a bloody commoner, Tark!”
“She didn’t acknowledge you AT ALL!”
“I told you that lending your genius to some countrified twonk’s blog would do you no favours in the long run!”
Tark placed a manicured hand gently over his wife’s, stilling the tremors which were rocking the table, and forcing other guests to hold on to their quivering, over-full glasses.
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