EXPOSED: What actually happened at Dioscó na mBó?
Everything you know is a lie.
Beloved Irish schoolbook Dioscó na mBó moulded many an Irish-speaking childhood and certainly catapulted my impressionable mind into a world where livestock could socialise just like you and I.
Recently, news has emerged that the book itself gives a deeply inaccurate depiction as to what actually happened that evening. As Ireland's answer to Spotlight, we've gotten in touch with one of the cows that attended the disco, and he's agreed to tell us what really went down.
Michael was insistent that I wouldn't call him by his real name, so I will be referring to him as Seán.
Me: Seán, thanks so much for meeting me under these difficult circumstances.
Seán: Thanks Ciara, just make sure you don't disclose my real name (Michael).
Me: Absolutely. Listen, can you tell me, in your own words, what happened the night of Dioscó na mBó?
Seán: Ciara, it was absolute carnage. I couldn't believe what I was invited to. The invitation said 'Drinks and finger food', but what I was subjected to was far from that.
Me: Wow, go on....
Seán: They were squirting milk at each other from their udders, Ciara. I'm a normal cow, I do normal cow things, but that's just something I've never seen before in my sheltered life. Cattle pinned up against the walls shifting, it was disgusting. Where's the dignity?
Me: There were rumours circulating that the finger food wasn't exactly appropriate either?
Seán: THEY SERVED US BURGERS AND CHIPS.
Me: Oh. Right. Not a fan? Watching your figure?
Seán: We are cows, Ciara. It would be like serving scampi at Nemo's birthday party. It was a f**king disgrace, God forgive me. The catering company obviously neglected to read the brief. The organisers specifically asked for grass and hay, along with a gluten free alternative for George, he's a coeliac.
Me: Completely understand your outrage, sounds like a nightmare. What about the turnout? We could see from the photographs that there was a hen present? Did he/she have a good time?
Seán: That's actually Declan's wife, Maureen. She was six months pregnant at the time and frankly could have done without the hassle. Drunken slobs falling all over her, roaring and shouting, the barn was like something from Superbad.
Me: So you're saying there was alcohol at the disco? Was there anything else, Seán?
Seán: If you mean narcotics, then yes. I saw two cows ingesting narcotics and that was when I decided to leave. I just can't be around that kind of stuff. It was supposed to be a pleasant evening for everyone. A few drinks, some finger food and some decent music. What I attended was nothing short of a living nightmare.
Me: Even the music was bad?
Seán: They played Liberty X, Ciara. Liberty f**king X, God forgive me.
Me: Jesus, say no more. So, why do you think the story in the book was fabricated then? Why didn't they just give an accurate account of the night?
Seán: The writers didn't expect that to happen. They just wanted a pleasant evening, much like the rest of us. Things got out of hand, so they were forced to quickly take as many seemingly appropriate photographs as possible, then leave. It wasn't their fault. They had no choice but to paint it as a wonderful event. They needed the book sales. I would've done the same thing.
Me: Don't you think a scandalous tell-all novel about what really happens at a Disocó na mBó would be more in the public interest?
Seán: No. The world can never know about our secret lives. We will take it to the
Me: Sorry to inform you, Seán, but I'm wearing a wire. We've been recording this entire conversation. I'm taking this information to print. The people of Ireland deserve to know.
Seán: You'll never get away with this!
Lead image via Irish Memory