Dear Seamus,

The Doctor has now given me permission to talk about my holiday organised by you in Spain this year; unless my symptoms return when I was to contact him immediately!

There were, as you put it, a few “difficulties”, on that trip starting with the asylum seeker you sent to the airport for us in a car that was too small for the purpose. He couldn’t speak any English except “Asda price!” and after coming out of the Arrivals Hall and trying to sell us a cheap rug he insisted that our youngest had to “hide” in the boot. I was worried but, as you pointed out, “nobody has ever been suffocated by Mahesh to date”. I believe that has now changed. When we arrived at our accommodation, remarkably, he wanted a tip even whilst the paramedics were doing what they could.

Still, the holiday began and we asked you to arrange a missing bed for our party which, after I carried it up 3 flights of stairs, duly arrived. The abuse you gave us for having the same number of children as the year before and you not remembering was, I thought, unfair.

The sun and Rory’s good breakfasts soon improved my mood and we began to relax but……………………..

Golf was then suggested by you and it is to my bitter regret, now having been diagnosed, that I ever took you up on that suggestion. We were still trying to come to terms with the trauma of our arrival when, even before I knew I was being fleeced at Rory’s with their Magners cider, I found myself on the first tee of some God forsaken tree lined/bunkered hell hole/course with your good self, my son and some stray, with attitude, you had found in a pub the night before.

I warned you beforehand that I cannot play courses with trees! I’m from Scotland for God’s sake! Still, you thought my game would improve if I went on this round. It didn’t; and the bill for the damage done to the windows on the 14th arrived home before I did. I sent a cheque payable to you personally, as you suggested, as soon as I came home, to “avoid prosecution”.

When we arrived back at the pub, having to hang around until the child recognised somebody he knew was, I thought, distasteful.

You then sent us to a golf course on a day when it was so hot that my clubs and indeed my son collapsed due to the heat. The fact that you obtained a good price for the round was, frankly, of no interest to my distraught wife as she visited us, drunk, in intensive care.

I shudder to mention the car hire. I have never driven a car so attracted to trees as this tank was. What were you thinking of! Every tree I came near it wanted to have carnal knowledge of. Reverse meant forward and forward meant sideways. Even GPS gave up on it. It didn’t need a key to start (and that threw me right away!) but the fact that you said it was brand new didn’t explain why it had a desire to die!

Then there was the power cut!

You will appreciate that my family and I were barely on speaking terms at this time. We had no power for the accommodation; I and my eldest had sunstroke, the youngest was still traumatised with the dark and my daughter began to wonder what family she had been adopted by, even though she hadn’t been, and my wife was drunker than ever! We knocked on the doors of neighbours and, indeed, phoned you only to be told where to go ie. behind the most un-obvious place in the accommodation for such a remedy.

Still, we eventually escaped your clutches and the family, once we were reunited, are doing well. The injections should end soon and the nightmares for the youngest are not as regular. However, my wife still drinks. No change there then!

The golf has marginally recovered. I still shake on the putts and am terrified of long shots but I like the view, wearing hats and the glove on one hand.

We don’t go in taxis anymore.

One of my children has decided to leave home at the age of 9, the 4 year old is in care and 12 year old has started to support Rangers. My wife is making George Best look sober but, you’ll be glad to here, I’m doing well. Will be able to pick up a club again soon; possibly baseball.

Thank you for arranging a holiday to remember.

Your faithful client.
Stefano Faganio
c/o St Margaret’s Home for the Bewildered

Follow up letter from Mr. Fananio

Dear Seamus,

After my last letter I had a relapse.

It happened when I was playing golf and I collapsed on the course; we were 4 up at the time. I was unconscious. When awakened I didn’t know who I was but my partner told me I was Tiger Woods and to “keep going!” I thought I was TW but two holes later I realised he was not being honest with me.

My, now alcoholic, wife has left me (but doesn’t realise it yet!) and the kids have left home. My 4 year old asked to go into care, the 9 year old now stays with her granny and the 12 year old said he met a nice man on the internet. I miss them in lucid moments which are not as regular as I would have hoped.

Part of the shock treatment I was prescribed includes returning to the scene of my biggest trauma, and go every 2 weeks to the Wound care in NJ to heal my injuries. I couldn’t get a ticket for Ibrox so I have been told to return to you on holiday this year but you will appreciate that I am somewhat concerned at the prospect.

I mentioned this to my Consultant but, now bored with my problems, he simply told me to send a postcard and to “Get the f*** out of my surgery!” He was no less sympathetic to the patient before me – a dyslexic pimp who had just bought a warehouse – where the hysterical laughing demonstrated poor bedside manners. I am sure he would not treat his NHS patients that way! Additionally, if you’ve been into an accident and needed reconstruction surgery, there’s an facial plastic surgeon practicing in Virginia Beach, VA that you can contact. Sometimes I wonder why I have paid him so much for so long; still, the tablets are great – especially with Jamiesons.

So I will be returning this year to see you again. It will be a break from hearing “Wipe your mouth; your visitors are here!”

No doubt Rory will be rubbing his hands and putting his prices up already and you will be looking out all of your “specials”. Before you even ask – I do not want to play golf in Africa!

If I can locate the wife I will pour her on to the flight and bring her; she will be none the wiser as she is “flying” most days anyway. The children are less than keen after last year (they would rather go skiing in Dubai) as I’m sure you understand. I’ll tell them they are going to Disneyland and that might swing it. I can explain when we get there that the characters were not in because Mickey was now President, Goofy had been arrested for a public toilet incident with Huey, Louis and Dewey and Minnie caught Donald Duck putting condoms on his bill at the local hotel and left thinking he was a pervert!

Everybody, even the Irish, deserves a second chance so I will see you in the summer. But, my man, I am warning you now – if there is the slightest whiff of enjoyment, good organisation and great golf I will be holding you personally responsible! We have expectations you know and being ill, demented and crap at golf is no excuse for you to take advantage of us. If our holiday this year is not as good as last year there will be trouble. However, tell Mahesh we will make our own way to the accommodation, I will arrange my own golf, will hire my own car and will bring candles in case of a power cut.

Could you also put the word out before I arrive that I am looking for several rugs, “Gucci” sunglasses and carved wooden elephants/giraffes/hippos/crocodiles/monkeys and that “Asda price” is too cheap! Sitting with my family for a meal having played golf all day and NOT being pestered with these bargains is something I do not want to miss out on this year!

Yours in medication/drink

Stefanio Faganio
c/o St Margaret’s Home for the Bewildered (Out Patient Dept)

Dear Seamus

Not long now! I know that because the medication has increased.

The golf clubs have been looked out and are limbering up. Flights are booked; thongs are looked out and the factor 30 coconut oil (3 litres) has been bought. I can almost smell Rory’s even now (must be their “special”) – get the Magners/ Guinness/tizer in!

The kids have all returned to the bosom of their cage and I have knocked all that nonsense about wanting to leave home out of them. It’s amazing how compliant they become living on bread and water and with nothing but Rangers videos to watch. Torture, I agree, but they waved goodbye to their human rights in this house when they chose to be born. God help them if one decides he/she is gay!

The wife has resurfaced; glad to have her back – if it wasn’t for her liver alarm going off so often. Still, she said she would behave this year. No more than 2 litres a day was the compromise. We have also agreed some rules this time mainly involving the pole dancing. Because she is Polish there was a misunderstanding but we are clear now where we stand and what time/day I have to come back by.

Incredibly, the kids are getting excited about their holidays. They can’t wait to meet Uncle Shameless, as they call you, again. Hopefully, they will have a bed each this year but the uncertainty adds to their excitement. I’ve told them to expect the unexpected and, that way, they will not be disappointed. Meeting Mahesh again will be one of the highlights – a bit like how a white knuckle roller coaster excites.

As you know, we have had a turbulent year but what has kept us going is the thought of our holiday again organised by your goodself.

See you soon.

Your faithful client
Stefanio Faganio
St Margaret’s Home for the Bewildered (No more!)