BigSaltyDog

🏴 SCOTLAND vs NEW ZEALAND 🇳🇿 THE ALL BLACKS ARE COMING – AND THE MISFITS HAVE SPOKEN! 🤣🏉 Saturday afternoon at Saltyville HQ, and the Misfits had gathered for another massive afternoon of international rugby. Today's contest? Scotland against New Zealand. Stg. Salty was comfortably settled in his favourite chair, wearing his rugby shirt and looking rather serious. "Right, lads, let's get one thing straight. Scotland are a decent side, but we're talking about the All Blacks here. I reckon New Zealand should have this one!" McFinleyyy nodded enthusiastically. "Absolutely! The All Blacks have power, pace and experience. Scotland could be in for a very long afternoon!" Ye Olde Large Lad had arrived with a rather unusual selection of refreshments, including Scottish shortbread and New Zealand lamb. "Just covering both possibilities," he explained. Quags looked at the spread. "You're not covering anything. You're just ea...

🇿🇦 THE SPRINGBOKS TURN ITALY INTO PIZZA TOPPING! 🤣🏉 When McFinleyyy and Ye Olde Large Lad Deliver Their Rugby Verdict! It was supposed to be a Saturday afternoon of international rugby, but over at Saltyville HQ, things were getting rather embarrassing for the Italians. South Africa were absolutely hammering Italy, and the scoreboard was reading a ridiculous 38–0 after just 28 minutes. Stg. Salty sat comfortably in his chair, watching the carnage unfold on the big television. He took a sip of his tea and shook his head. "Good grief, lads. This isn't rugby. It's an organised demolition!" That's a spanking McFinleyyy, who had been watching with growing excitement, suddenly jumped to his feet. "ITALY ARE MUCK!" he announced. "Absolute muck! I've seen better defending from a garden fence!" Ye Olde Large Lad, sitting beside him with a mountain of sandwiches, nodded approvingly. "Correct, McFinleyyy. They're being treated...

THE TRUTH HURTS, DONUT! 🍩😂  Stg. Salty Goes Tank Shopping – And Gets More Than He Bargained For! There comes a time in every soldier's life when he must face the uncomfortable truth: his beloved equipment is getting a little long in the tooth. Stg. Salty had been looking at his trusty Leopard 2 tank recently and decided enough was enough. "She's a grand old girl," he announced to the Misfits over breakfast, "but I think it's time we upgraded. Something newer, shinier, and preferably with fewer rattles." Ye Olde Large Lad, now second in command, nodded thoughtfully. "Good idea, Sarge. Although I wouldn't trade her in. She's probably worth more than the entire Misfits combined." "Cheeky bastard," replied Salty. After several evenings searching the internet, Salty eventually found what appeared to be a rather promising military vehicle dealership. The website looked professional, the photographs were impressive, and...

🇮🇪 IRELAND VS ARGENTINA! THE MISFITS ARE READY FOR RUGBY WAR! 🏉 A BigSaltyDog Rugby Special – COME ON IRELAND! Let's go! Ireland take on Argentina in what promises to be a cracking rugby encounter. Two proud rugby nations, plenty of passion, a bit of muscle and absolutely no shortage of shouting from the sidelines. And, of course, the Misfits are gathering to watch every minute. Stg. Salty had organised the viewing arrangements, although describing the operation as organised would be stretching the truth somewhat. Ye Olde Large Lad arrived first, carrying enough snacks to feed the entire Argentine rugby squad. He announced that he was confident Ireland would win, provided nobody touched his crisps. McFinleyyy had already positioned himself directly in front of the television. Quags was beside him, armed with a notebook and claiming to understand every technical aspect of the game. Neither had actually agreed on what a scrum was. Whizzley was checking the latest team ...

 🇬🇧 THE MISFITS DISCOVER A NEW POLITICAL MOVEMENT – BRAND NEW POLITICS, SAME OLD MISFITS! Stg. Salty was enjoying a relatively peaceful afternoon when McFinleyyy burst into headquarters waving his phone. "Boss! Have you seen this? We've got a new political candidate!" Salty looked up from his newspaper. "Unless he's promising cheaper diesel, better roads and free pints, I'm not interested." McFinleyyy shoved the phone across the desk. There, in all its turquoise glory, was a rather extraordinary poster featuring Russell Brand, apparently announcing his candidacy for Reform UK. Underneath his name was a rather unfortunate reference to H.M.P. Belmarsh. Salty nearly choked on his tea. "Good grief. Is this a political campaign or the opening credits of a Netflix documentary?" Within minutes, the Misfits had assembled. Ye Olde Large Lad, currently recovering from his latest Spanish adventure, examined the poster carefully. ...

THE FINAL DEBRIEF: THE GOVNA GETS HIS REWARD! Govna had finally returned from his Prague mission. The suit was immaculate, the shoes polished, and the famous red tracksuit had been temporarily retired. He'd survived questionable establishments, mysterious encounters, snooker tables and enough beer to float a small battleship. But tonight, there was one final appointment. The debrief. He entered a luxurious hotel suite where Sarah was waiting. She was dressed elegantly in a beautiful black evening dress, holding a glass of champagne. "Well, well, well," she smiled. "Look who's finally home." Govna adjusted his jacket. "Agent Sarah. The mission was successful. All objectives achieved. No casualties, although my liver has requested annual leave." Sarah laughed. "Come here, 007." Meanwhile, the Misfits had assembled in the hotel bar, desperately trying to find out what was happening upstairs. McFinleyyy was convinced there would b...