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Mr. McGinn takes all the biscuits…

Date: 11th May 2024

 

It’s a retiral home for the prematurely discarded in the middle of Fife.

There are other branches dotted round the country, one in Kilmarnock, another one just outside Dundee. The premise of their premises is that they take in managers for the Scottish Federation of Alchemy (SFA), those people deemed by the majority to have lost the ability to mix it well and find the formula for success.

Recently the Scottish Professional Federation of Litigants (SPFL), have joined in the referral process and one of their number, Mr. McGlynn is today’s subject of the staff meeting. The SPFL began referring people into the programme they deemed were no longer capable of holding their own in the cauldron of the litigant process – courtroom has beens and never wases…

He has been “hinging aboot” the process, flattering to achieve, according to some, and oftentimes flitting between chambers to make a living rather than create a legacy, but this time round he may have managed to make his name. and not, according to some – the same “some” as quoted before, in a guid way…

Picture the scene…

It’s a bright May morning. A Monday.

Residents have been asked to slowly prepare themselves for the day ahead, all the Zimmers looked over, checked and disinfected. They sit like sparkling promises of mobility, outside each room where they may be needed for the duration of this spring morning.

There is the slow murmur of snoring emanating from those residents unlikely to surface for the morning breakfast rush, as the staff assemble to discuss the scandal that has kept tongues wagging over the weekend.

Who has been raiding the Celtic Memorial Biscuit tin of ALL the Bourbons?

But before they condemned Mr. McGlynn, they needed to consider others who may be in the “Zimmer” frame for the theft.

There are some who are sure it was an outside rather than an inside job.

They point to an Ayrshire resident who was up during the week on a tour and perhaps it was him that had taken the bourbons. One of the staff remembered him from his Aberdeen days and suggested it might be some kind of dawn raid that saw him turn up, get the biscuits and return to their Ayrshire branch before anyone noticed. They used the fact that down in Ayrshire, they had not had much to celebrate for years, but nobody could find any evidence to back him up, so he was silenced from his accusation.

Then, someone remembered that there was some guy, a real nomad, currently in the Methil branch who was up in the facility during the week too. He had really been round the houses in the company, including some spectacular events up in the Arbroath facility but again there was little by way of any evidence to back this up.

Consideration turned to the visitor’s book again to see if they could pursue external influences as a line of inquiry and aside from those already mentioned, there was only one. The boy from Dundee. It prompted Conspiracy Connor to exclaim and shout out. For the next 5 minutes, which felt like 5 hours, he ranted about how the boy residing in Dundee and the boy residing in Kilmarnock, used to

reside thegither in Aberdeen and elsewhere, though he could never remember where. THAT fact, he said proved they were the thieves and that it was an actual fact that they had actual robbed the place blind and we actual needed to phone the actual FBI and not the Scottish police cos they were corrupt as was proven by all the scandals about Black Lives Matter they were involved in. At the end he had to be consoled with a peppermint tea and a slice of Battenburg, though he was marzipan intolerant this week so wanted a custard cream instead.

Just then the door burst open and in walked a triumphant young member of the team who had gone four days ago to look over all the CCTV. To be fair, most people had forgotten about him and after a couple of hours on shift of asking where he was, people forgot he worked there, so everyone jumped when he burst through the door.

In his hand was a shiny disk.

In his hand was what he claimed was “proof”.

Everyone gathered around the old laptop, the only one still with a disk drive that would play the DVD from the CCTV.

A grainy image appeared onscreen. After a few moments, out of his room Mr. McGlynn appeared. He wanders down the corridor, enters the day room, where the biscuits are kept and, after a few moments, blatantly walks out, under his arm the box of bourbons, and nonchalantly he winks at the CCTV as he takes a bite out of one of them.

Proof positive that Mr. McGinn has indeed taken the biscuit…

 

Whilst the author asserts his right to this as an original piece of work there is no evidence that John McGlynn likes bourbon biscuits, unless you know differently, so, this is clearly a piece of fiction.

The fact is that following an invincible season in League One, at the PFA Scotland awards ceremony, John McGlynn took the biscuit as the manager of the year. What an incredible season for The Bairns it has been. Back in the Championship next year and back where they belong, pushing for the top league. There are many tunes on the biscuit stealing auld fiddle yet to be played…


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