AGAINST THE ODDS: One Bohsman goes from Dalyer delight to party game fright

THE ZOMBIE was first to arrive, followed by Dracula, Frankenstein, his bride and three cackling witches who looked as if they had flown straight from Macbeth’s blasted heath.

As for the Devil, he was late, cursing the traffic on the North Strand.

It was Halloween night and heavily-pregnant Angie Mooney, clad as Mother Teresa of Mount Prospect Avenue, was hosting a fancy-dress party at home, in the somewhat reluctant company of her husband, Vinny Fitzpatrick, unhappily cast as Shrek.

A sensitive soul, Vinny wasn’t pleased at being compared to the world’s most famous ogre. “My head’s not that large, my nose isn’t that bulbous and my backside isn’t that big. I’m nothing like Shrek,” he protested.

Angie had nodded and smiled. “Oh yes you are, but don’t worry, I love you anyway,” she said.

Inside his giant green mask visibility was poor and Vinny’s mood was irritable. He would much rather have been in the company of the lads in Foley’s raising a glass to his beloved Bohemians, and their most recent title success, than trussed up as a not-so-jolly green giant.

Vinny had been at Dalymount Park the night before where he’d roared his head off in unfettered joy among the ultras at the School End of the Jodi Stand, the roof lifting when word arrived that the reviled Shamrock Rovers had managed only a draw.

The title, bar the shouting, was staying in Pisser Dignam’s famed field. “We are the B-O, the B-O-H-S,” he’d bellowed.

Being an old fogey among supporters half his age didn’t matter a fig. Once a Bohsman, always a Bohsman, and to win back-to-back titles was a special feeling for a lifer like Vinny.

He’d been there in 1978 when “King” Turlough O’Connor led Bohs to the championship – and had then suffered 23 years of hurt while Rovers, Pat’s and Shelbourne were the capital’s all-singing showbands.

For years Bohs were a joke, but after the famine ended in 2001 they had hardly stopped winning. A bit like the 16A bus. You don’t see one for ages and then, from nowhere, a gansey-load of them comes along, thought Vinny.

But now, from the craic with fellow diehards in the Jackie Jameson Bar at Dalyer he had become the butt of jokes from some of the Clontarf party guests.

“Don’t take the mask off, Shrek, you’re better looking with it on,” hissed one of the witches, through blackened teeth, he knew to be in Angie’s scrabble club.

Dracula was another who couldn’t resist a bite. “What swamp did you emerge from pal?”

Now, Vinny hated being called pal. He could barely tolerate “top man” and “mate”, but “pal” was a familiarisation he utterly detested.

Dracula was actually Angie’s gynaecologist, a slimy sort whose bedside manner was a little too familiar as far as Vinny was concerned.

Vinny’s spirits lifted as Angie served up a supper straight from his childhood: an old-style Halloween dish of Colcannon, complete with onion and bits of bacon to compliment heaps of the creamy mashed potato and kale.

“Mother Teresa, they’d love this in Calcutta,” quipped Vinny as he helped himself to a second helping before bursting, improbably, into song.

“Did you ever eat Colcannon, made from lovely pickled cream? With the greens and scallions mingled like a picture in a dream.

“Did you ever make a hole on top to hold the melting flake, Of the creamy, flavoured butter that your mother used to make?

“Yes you did, so you did, so did he and so did I. And the more I think about it sure the nearer I’m to cry.

“Oh, wasn’t it the happy days when troubles we had not, And our mothers made Colcannon in the little skillet pot.”

Vinny’s voice was of a surprisingly fine timbre and he received a round of applause from the guests. The Zombie was, in particular, taken by his rendition.

Tall and willowy, she slinked an arm into Vinny’s and purred: “You can bring your little skillet pot into my kitchen any night, Shrek.”

That the Zombie was really a stunner named Susan, Angie’s tennis doubles partner and a recent divorcée, made Vinny blush. But, behind his mask, no one knew.

After the Colcannon, the guests tucked into one of Angie’s home-made barm bracks. The Zombie got the slice with the ring inside. “You won’t see me with one of these on my finger again. I’m footloose and fancy free, isn’t that right Shrek?” she said with a playful smile.

If Vinny heard, he didn’t let on as he busied himself with preparing the party games. He filled two basins with warm water and put them on the kitchen table.

He then threw in half-a-dozen apples, a dozen grapes and a handful of coins into each basin.

The guests were split into two groups and took turns at retrieving as much as they could from each basin.

It was the cue for carnage as water sloshed everywhere and the dye from the face-paint turned the water dark.

While Dracula lacked bite as he daintily tried to pick up the floating fruit without putting his head into the water, the Zombie attacked the challenge with gusto.

She plunged head-long into the deep and went straight for the submerged treasure. That her black-and-green wig fell off, and her make-up ran, didn’t deflect her enthusiasm to salvage booty.

When Vinny called time, the Zombie was a clear winner. As she replaced her wig, she winked conspiratorially at Vinny. “Well, Shrek, what’s next on your Halloween merry-go-round?”

Vinny dried off a handful of the apples and attached pieces of string to them. “We all know this one. It’s about biting the apple. Right, get a partner,” he said.

Frankenstein hooked up with his bride, Angie with Dracula, while the Devil and witches made two other pairs. That left the Zombie, her face streaked with red, black and green. “Just you, me and an apple, Shrek. How tempting. Hold it steady, mind, you’ve nothing to be afraid of.”

Vinny tried to be casual as he dangled the apple on the string, but he could feel his armpits moisten and his heart beat that bit faster as the Zombie got to work.

First, she ran her tongue suggestively around her lips; then, she deliberately nudged the apple into Vinny’s chest, which was pounding, and held it there with her chin.

Slowly, she worked the apple up towards the crook of Vinny’s shoulder, all the time pushing her body suggestively against his.

As Vinny glanced down, he spied the Zombie staring into the eye-slits of the mask.

Then, she opened her mouth, revealing shiny, even teeth, and slowly sank them into the rosy-cheeked fruit.

It seemed an age before the Zombie broke away from Vinny and stood back. “Well, Shrek, how was that for you? Trick or treat?”

Bets of the week

1pt e-w Pádraig Harrington in HSBC Champions (18/1, Paddy Power)

1pt Rubin Kazan to beat Barcelona in Champions League (7/1, Betfair)

Vinny’s Bismarck

2pts Lay Rip Van Winkle in Breeders’ Cup Classic (6/4, general, liability 3pts)