"Title TBC"

Xcr'pt from forthcoming Roy Keane / Sinead o'Connor Dub' based thrilla:



"The future was bright, and it took place in the sun. Something was about to happen, some terrible event, and in some location at some time! Well at least that was a clue. Probably very shortly, he could feel in his bones. Was it to take place tomorrow? "Focus, Roy, focus" he told him himself (but not aloud though, he wasn't a nutcase was he!). Closing his eyes, he swivelled in his swivel-chair and let his fingers rest upon the computer map. The signal guided his hand. His fingers started to followed some strange contour as if guided by a superior force, and slid in one definite direction -this must be the way. His hand finally came to a standstill. A complete standstill! This must be it, Roy reckoned. The signal faded indeed into the ether and he allowed himself a deep breath. He opened his eyes. His index pointed to the Emerald Isle! Something ominous was about to happen to his native land! Holy Mother of Christ, hadn't they suffered enough?? Roy let out a long sigh (pffffff........) then blinked and checked more thoroughly. Hey, at least it wasn't to take place in his native Socialist Republic! Oh no, the spot revealed was none other than the capital (Dublin, that will be). Dublin eh... For a second Roy entertained the mischievous thought of letting them Dubs deal with it themselves, serves them right for farting higher than their collective arses! He instantly took it back, though. Not because this would have been callous and -dare he add- ungallant of him, but because such was not his prerogative. Not for him to question the course of celestial events. On the football pitch maybe, and sometimes in the tunnel, but on the ouija-board? No chance. No way Jose, what was dictated was to be obeyed. It was as immutable as the clouds in the sky, as transcendent as an eclipse. And like the referee's decision it was final. Besides should he fancy trying to ignore his calling, he wouldn't get any sleep for sure. The Signal would come back strong as the angel of Fate was breathing hard upon him, leaving him in no doubt as to where his priorities lay. It was like when Triggs decided he needed out; the blasted beast wouldn’t take “no” for an answer. So... Dublin it was then. Something was afoot and it wasn't attached to a leg!


No-one spoke and Roy fell into a dream."


There'll be more than a touch of Victorian Gothic as well as "pulp fiction" touches + tons of musical references. Dublin will once more take centre stage...