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Irish I Wasn't Naked. Part 1


The Boardroom of the Bastermats Chemical Company


The company executives sat around a gleaming mahogany table headed by the elderly president, Ernest Bastermats. “I called you here today to discuss our company's entry in Puttyville’s annual Saint Patrick’s Day parade.” He continued, “As you know, our company has a reputation of fielding one of the best floats, and have won first prize the last three years running.” “Ahem,” Primrose Dubois interrupted, “Sir, we actually have been discussing our entry this year amongst ourselves, and with your permission, feel Bastermats Chemical needs a new image. We want to be more authentic and promote the real history of Ireland.” Brooke Broadsheets chimed in, “Yes, Mr. B, we in marketing believe this would be a good choice to move the company in a more dignified direction. A more serious, mature celebration, highlighting Ireland’s true historical themes, and a departure from the typical drunken hooley of inebriated fools prancing about with their hackneyed rainbows, shamrocks, pots of gold, and silly leprechauns.” Then Edward French added, “We would also eschew the overeating, whiskey shots, green beer guzzling, and similar booze-besotted ribaldry. I’ve run the numbers, and doing so will drastically reduce our expensive insurance costs this spring.” Ernest thought for a moment, and understood the parade had been becoming more of a party for the Ivy Industrial Institute’s boisterous students. Still, he did not think the celebration was necessarily devolving as badly as his board claimed. He said, “Alright, we’ll shake things up this year and try something different. I assume you all have a design planned?” All three nodded in agreement and Primrose produced a glossy set of drawings to illustrate their ideas placing them before her very interested company president.


The Parade


It was a dazzlingly beautiful spring day. At the lineup, the Parade marshals were busy organizing the various floats, marchers, dancers, and bands at the parade’s start point. Hundreds of Puttyville’s citizens lined the streets along the parade route, nearly two miles long. Nearby were various open-air temporary venues staffed by the town’s many bars and restaurants featuring Irish food and beverages. McGillin’s, a local pub, had an enormous pint glass filled with green beer with a series of taps all around to pour for parched paraders.


The Bastermats float was far up front, behind the Veteran’s of Foreign Wars Color Guard, a group of lively Irish step-dancers, and the Institute’s marching band. It was a marvelous creation featuring a field of green, a castle ruin, and pierced by a series of rocks serving as a platform for the company reenactors to stand on. Each was fitted with a T-shaped rail the player could lean against for stability as the float moved along the route. In front was Primrose Dubois, portraying Brigid of Kildare, patroness saint of Ireland. She wore a crested golden halo atop her matching coifed blonde locks. Prim was clothed in an elaborate green hooded cloak atop a plain white linen shift. Wearing substantial heels hidden beneath her robes, the crowned Primrose stood well over six feet tall and graced the front of the float majestically, just as she had planned. She fidgeted a bit as she felt the coarse linen of her shift rub against her silk-covered bottom. She had foolishly forgone a slip and wore only a matching set of naughty undies underneath today as a treat for her crush Edward after they won best float in the parade. Her gown’s décolleté was somewhat scandalous for such a saint, but since the outfit obscured most of her curves, Primrose felt the need to bare just a bit of her bosom as bait for the soon-to-be-drooling judges. Unfortunately, she skipped the dressmaker’s final fitting session and today her neckline was pushing the limits of decency. Primrose glimmered like an emerald and her breasts jostled deliciously as the float rocked along.


Next was Brooke Broadsheets dressed as Queen Maeve, or Medb in old Irish, the powerful ruler of ancient Ireland. She wore a studded warrior headpiece atop her wavy, auburn hair, a brown leather corset top, silver upper arm cuffs, a matching leather skirt, nude hose, and black leather over-knee boots. In addition, she sported gauntlets, leather shoulder pads, and a fancy wide belt with a silver buckle. Brooke clutched a two-handed bastard sword and looked like she was most ready to deal with any of the Emerald Isle’s adversaries. She appeared to be one tough cookie!


Next to Brooke was Edward, portraying Columba, an Irish abbot and missionary evangelist. His costume was nothing more than a short fur robe, belted by a rope. This simple ensemble revealed his muscular chest as well as his legs, to the delight of all female parade watchers. The cool breeze caused Edward a slight arousal as he had forgone wearing the silly fur pants, and was inadvisably swinging free.


At the rear of the company float was Mr. B, resplendent as Saint Patrick. He wore a brilliant green cassock, a mitre, and wielded a shepherd’s crook. Hissing and snapping about his feet were a dozen mechanical snakes, several being three meters in length. Behind his beard, he waved to the cheering crowd and pretended to drive the recoiling serpents from his beloved Ireland.


Finally, behind the extravagant and automated float, trudged Annie. She was outfitted as a ludicrous leprechaun, pulling a wagon holding a ‘pot of gold,’ filled with chocolate gold coins, and other treats she tossed to the kiddies along the parade route as she followed the big green show in front of her. Annie overheard the three VPs complaining about the crowd being uncouth, uneducated, and underwhelmed by their new company float. She ground her teeth and hoped some comeuppance would be forthcoming very soon.