✈️ STG. SALTY AND THE GREAT AER LINGUS REDUNDANCY INVESTIGATION

✈️ STG. SALTY AND THE GREAT AER LINGUS REDUNDANCY INVESTIGATION

BigSaltyDog Special Report.

There are some news stories that you read once and carry on with your day.

Then there are stories that make you put your coffee down, stare into the distance and question the entire future of international travel.

For Stg. Salty, the latest Aer Lingus redundancy news somehow became the second type.

He was sitting at the kitchen table, enjoying a quiet coffee, when he came across the reports about Aer Lingus and its proposed redundancy arrangements for head office staff.

He read the article carefully.

He read it again.

He frowned.

Then he slowly put down his coffee.

“This could be a problem.”

Nobody in the room reacted.

Salty looked around.

Whizzley was eating toast. Govna was scrolling through his phone. Ye Olde Large Lad was studying a clipboard as though he had just been appointed Chief of Military Administration.

Sarah was sitting on the sofa.

Susan was reading a magazine.

Salty cleared his throat.

“I said this could be a problem.”

Sarah looked over.

“What sort of problem?”

Salty pointed at the newspaper.

“Aer Lingus.”

“That is an airline.”

“I know.”

“So what is the problem?”

Salty sighed.

“How am I going to get to Spain?”

There was a moment of complete silence.

Then Susan started laughing.

Salty looked offended.

“This is serious.”

Sarah smiled.

“You've managed to turn an employment story into a Spanish holiday emergency.”

“It is a perfectly legitimate concern.”

Nobody agreed.

But Salty had already decided that a full investigation was required

OPERATION SPAIN

Within half an hour, the Misfits had been summoned.

Nobody knew why.

Nobody had asked for a meeting.

Nobody had prepared anything.

Nevertheless, Ye Olde Large Lad arrived with a clipboard and immediately declared the situation operational.

“Operation Spain.”

Salty nodded.

“Excellent.”

Ye Olde Large Lad began making notes.

The first problem was transportation.

Salty had already ruled out driving.

The Leopard 2 was considered briefly before everyone agreed that travelling across Europe in a main battle tank might attract unwanted attention.

There was also the fuel consumption.

Salty looked at the figures.

“No.”

The tank was staying at home.

For once, everyone was relieved.

That left flying.

And that brought them back to Aer Lingus.

Salty scratched his head.

“This is where things become complicated.”

Govna looked up from his phone.

“Why?”

“Because I like Aer Lingus.”

“That is hardly a crisis.”

“I know. That is what makes this difficult.”

Salty had developed a surprisingly serious expression.

He had flown with Aer Lingus many times and liked the straightforwardness of it.

He also liked getting on an aeroplane without having to conduct a forensic examination of his suitcase beforehand.

Whizzley mentioned the alternative Irish airline.

Salty immediately shook his head.

“You know the one.”

Everyone knew the one.

Salty was not impressed by the idea.

He had visions of weighing his socks, removing half his clothes and possibly having to negotiate with a member of airport staff over the precise dimensions of his toothbrush.

“I refuse to arrive in Spain with one pair of underpants and a toothbrush.”

Sarah laughed.

“You could always pay for a bag.”

Salty looked horrified.

“Pay extra?”

“It is an option.”

“It is an insult to luggage.”

Nobody knew what that meant.

Salty did not elaborate.

THE SERIOUS SIDE

For all the nonsense, Salty did understand that the real Aer Lingus story was not a joke.

Redundancy is a serious matter for anyone whose job is affected.

People have mortgages, rent, bills and families to think about.

The proposed changes involve real employees making real decisions about their futures.

Salty put the newspaper down.

“Joking aside, I hope the people affected get a fair deal.”

Sarah nodded.

“Exactly.”

There was a brief moment of seriousness.

Then Salty picked the newspaper up again.

“But I still need to get to Spain.”

Sarah shook her head.

“You are unbelievable.”

“I am simply maintaining perspective.”

“Your perspective appears to involve sunshine.”

“Spain has sunshine.”

“And beaches.”

“Correct.”

“And restaurants.”

“Very important.”

Sarah smiled.

“And perhaps some company.”

Salty looked at her.

Sarah gave him a cheeky wink.

For once, Salty had absolutely nothing to say.

Govna noticed.

He grinned.

“That's the quietest I've seen him all morning.”

Salty ignored him.

THE REDUNDANCY PACKAGE

The discussion moved on to the actual redundancy arrangements.

Salty was curious about how such packages worked.

“So if someone has been with a company for many years, the value of a redundancy package can be significant?”

“It can be, depending on the final terms and the person's circumstances,” said Whizzley.

Salty nodded.

“That makes sense.”

Ye Olde Large Lad looked up from his clipboard.

“I have calculated a theoretical package.”

Salty became interested.

“Have you?”

“Yes.”

“For whom?”

“You.”

“Why?”

“I assumed you were about to ask.”

Salty looked at the paperwork.

“How much?”

Ye Olde Large Lad handed him the sheet.

Salty studied it.

Then he looked up.

“That's not bad.”

Sarah raised an eyebrow.

“You don't work for Aer Lingus.”

“I know.”

“So why are you calculating your redundancy?”

Salty folded the paper.

“Forward planning.”

Susan laughed.

“Are you planning to get a job there?”

“I might.”

“What job?”

Salty thought for a moment.

“Head of Spanish Operations.”

Sarah laughed.

“What would that involve?”

“Ensuring flights to Spain remain available for me.”

“That sounds remarkably convenient.”

“It would be a demanding position.

SALTY'S CAREER OPPORTUNITY

The following morning, Salty appeared at the house carrying a folder.

He had clearly been thinking about this all night.

“I have prepared my application.”

Whizzley looked worried.

“For what?”

“Aer Lingus.”

Sarah nearly dropped her coffee.

“You're actually serious?”

“Absolutely.”

Salty opened the folder.

Inside was a CV.

At the top, under professional experience, he had written:

STG. SALTY.

Specialist in international travel, tactical planning and locating Spanish restaurants.

Sarah burst out laughing.

“You cannot put that on a CV.”

“Why not?”

“Because nobody will take it seriously.”

Salty turned the page.

He had included references.

One was from Govna.

Another was from Ye Olde Large Lad.

The third simply said:

Sarah.

Sarah looked at him.

“You've put me down as a reference?”

“Of course.”

“What am I supposed to say?”

“That I am excellent.”

Sarah smiled.

“I could probably say something.”

Salty looked pleased.

Then Sarah winked.

His confidence disappeared for approximately three seconds.

It was becoming a recurring problem.

THE AIRPORT RECONNAISSANCE

Eventually, the Misfits decided that enough speculation was enough.

They needed to visit Dublin Airport.

This was described as reconnaissance.

In reality, it was an excuse to look at flights.

Salty arrived wearing sunglasses despite the fact that it was raining.

Sarah stared at him.

“You know it is cloudy?”

“I am prepared for Spain.”

“You look like you're auditioning for a low-budget spy film.”

Salty smiled.

“Exactly the look I was going for.”

Whizzley arrived carrying a backpack.

Govna had brought a suitcase.

Ye Olde Large Lad had his clipboard.

Susan had coffee.

Salty had sunglasses.

Nobody knew where his passport was.

Sarah eventually asked.

Salty froze.

“Passport.”

“Yes.”

He patted his pockets.

Nothing.

He checked his jacket.

Nothing.

He looked at the others.

Nobody spoke.

Then he remembered.

“It is at home.”

Sarah smiled.

“Excellent reconnaissance.”

Salty pointed towards Whizzley.

“You're in charge.”

Whizzley looked horrified.

“Of what?”

“Everything.”

Salty marched towards the exit.

The airport operation lasted approximately twelve minutes.

SARAH MAKES AN OFFER

Back at the house, the Misfits regrouped.

Salty was still determined to solve the Spanish problem.

Sarah walked over.

“You know, you could just book a normal flight.”

Salty looked at her.

“That sounds almost too easy.”

“It is easy.”

“You're making this sound suspicious.”

She laughed.

“There is nothing suspicious about booking a flight.”

Salty thought about it.

Then Sarah added:

“You could always travel with me.”

That got his attention.

He looked at her.

“Spain?”

“Spain.”

“When?”

“Whenever we organise it.”

Sarah gave him a wink.

Salty smiled.

Suddenly, the redundancy investigation seemed considerably less important.

Govna watched from across the room.

“This investigation has taken an interesting turn.”

Salty ignored him.

THE LEOPARD 2 MAKES A COMEBACK

Just when everyone thought the situation had been resolved, Ye Olde Large Lad returned with another suggestion.

“The Leopard 2 remains available.”

Everyone groaned.

Salty looked at him.

“No.”

“I have conducted a route assessment.”

“No.”

“It could theoretically travel through Europe.”

“Absolutely not.”

“There are suitable roads.”

“That's not the problem.”

“What is the problem?”

“The Spanish authorities.”

Ye Olde Large Lad considered this.

“They may have questions.”

“They definitely would.”

“Fair point.”

The tank plan was officially abandoned.

Again.

THE FINAL DECISION

By the end of the day, Stg. Salty had finally reached a conclusion.

He was going to Spain.

The method of transport was no longer considered a national emergency.

The Leopard 2 was staying where it belonged.

The alternative Irish airline remained under consideration, although Salty continued to complain about luggage policies.

And the Aer Lingus redundancy story remained exactly what it was.

A serious business story involving real employees and important decisions about their futures.

Salty's involvement was entirely fictional.

Mostly.

He stood by the door with his sunglasses on.

Sarah walked past.

“You're still thinking about Spain, aren't you?”

“Of course.”

“You really like it there.”

“I do.”

Sarah smiled.

“Perhaps I'll come with you.”

Salty looked at her.

She gave him one final cheeky wink.

He grinned.

“Now that is a plan.”

Whizzley appeared from nowhere.

“Have you booked anything?”

“Not yet.”

“Have you found your passport?”

Salty paused.

“Not yet.”

“Have you packed?”

“No.”

“Have you even checked the flights?”

Salty smiled.

“Not yet.”

Whizzley sighed.

“So you haven't actually done anything?”

Salty put his sunglasses on properly.

“I have done the important part.”

“What is that?”

“I have decided to go.”

And with that, he walked out.

The Misfits watched him disappear down the road.

Ye Olde Large Lad closed his clipboard.

Govna shook his head.

Susan laughed.

Whizzley started running after Salty because he had apparently decided that running was now the official method of transport.

Sarah simply smiled.

Then she gave Susan a knowing look.

“I think he'll get there eventually.”

Susan laughed.

“With Salty, anything is possible.”

And somewhere in the distance came the unmistakable sound of Salty shouting.

“WHO HAS MY PASSPORT?”

The Misfits looked at one another.

Operation Spain had officially begun.

Again.

And this time, they were determined to get him onto an aeroplane before he attempted to drive the Leopard 2 to the Costa del Sol.

BigSaltyDog had spoken.

Spain was waiting.

And Stg. Salty was coming.

Eventually.