After all the character assassination, and all the innuendo, and all the leaks to the papers, and all the intimidation, and all the vicious smears, and all the gobshites on all the chattering websites telling you the McCanns did it, guess what?
The Portuguese police have run out of ways to blacken their name.
They’ve given up.
Do you remember all the people who were so certain the McCanns killed their daughter, even though they had not a single piece of evidence to support their filthy little imaginings? No evidence at all, except whatever some Portuguese policeman slipped to the papers when he needed to take the heat off himself.
And the hounds ran with it. The hounds all over the world took up the howl, including the dogs here in Ireland, and they vented their righteous superiority on a poor bereft couple who’ll never be well again.
These self-righteous fuckers, many of whom were acne-pocked teenagers on comment boards, arseholes who never raised a puppy, never mind a family, had the audacity to think they were better than the adults they condemned. They pointed their drunken self-righteous fingers of inexperience at the McCanns, and drew pleasure from their guilty little self-righteous orgasms.
But it wasn’t only arsehole post-pubescents. The British Press got itself into a frenzy of condemnation. Wait! What did I say? Not arsehole post-pubescents? I take that back. After all, we were talking about the British Press, weren’t we?
The gobshites had to apologise though, and painfully too, I’m glad to say.
So now, it’s the endgame. The lowlife British Press can withdraw into its hole to wait for its next victim. The disgraceful Portuguese police can contemplate its own cynical inadequacies and the post-pubescent acne-pocked gobshites can go back to what they do best: wanking.
Meanwhile, perhaps the McCanns can finally find the space to begin accepting that their little girl is gone forever.
Previously on Bock