Daleks in Ballykillduff
The trouble began on a Tuesday, which was surprising because most trouble in Ballykillduff traditionally reserved itself for Fridays, when Councillor McGroggin’s trousers had their weekly disagreement with the concept of “staying up.”
Old Mrs Muldoon was the first to notice the invasion. She had gone out to feed her hens, only to find a large, bronze, pepper-pot-shaped creature rolling down her driveway shouting:
“EX-TERM-INATE!”
Mrs Muldoon, who was hard of hearing and thought it had said “EX-FOLI-ATE,” promptly offered it a jar of homemade lavender body scrub. The Dalek took it, paused, and muttered in its metallic way:
“THIS… IS… UNORTHODOX.”
By mid-morning, three more Daleks had appeared outside the Ballykillduff Post Office, which was awkward because the postmistress, Breda O’Snarky, insisted that they take a number and queue like everyone else. The Daleks complied, muttering about the inefficiency of rural postal services.
The Great Ballykillduff Resistance
Local farmer Seamus “Half-a-Shed” O’Leary decided that alien invaders needed dealing with. He grabbed his hurley stick, a bucket of slurry, and his neighbour’s goat for moral support. Standing on the main street, he declared:
“Right so, lads, you’re not ex-ter-min-ating my village unless you’ve got a permit from the Ballykillduff Council!”
The Daleks, unfamiliar with Irish bureaucracy, were promptly handed a thirty-seven-page form by Councillor McGroggin, who had been looking for a chance to introduce his new ‘Visitor Alien Levy.’ Filling in the form took them four hours, during which time Breda sold them three booklets of stamps and a novelty tea towel.
The Final Showdown at O’Malley’s Pub
By nightfall, the Daleks were thirsty and rolled into O’Malley’s. Paddy O’Malley, who had seen worse (including the time Father Flaherty tried karaoke), poured them each a pint of the black stuff. One sip and the lead Dalek declared:
“ERROR. TASTE MODULE… OVERLOADED.”
The Daleks began to spin in circles, their robotic voices slurring:
“EX-FOLIATE! HY-DRATE! CELE-BRATE!”
Soon they were singing rebel songs badly off-key and demanding another round. The invasion fizzled out entirely when the Daleks discovered Ballykillduff’s weekly céilí and spent the rest of the night attempting Irish dancing, scattering sparks and bolts across the dance floor.
The next morning, the Daleks quietly boarded their saucer and left, muttering that Ballykillduff was “TOO… STRANGE… EVEN… FOR… US.”
Mrs Muldoon waved them off with another jar of lavender scrub.
The Crazymad Writer Writes Again 