Salty and the Misfits The Great Irish Immigration Debate

BREAKING NEWS: IRELAND'S POPULATION SURGES  AND SALTY HAS HAD ENOUGH

DUBLIN  Ireland's population has surged past 5.5 million, with more than 110,000 people arriving in the country in the year to April 2026, according to the latest official figures.

The news landed at Misfit Headquarters at precisely 9:17 on Tuesday morning.

And within thirty seconds, Stg. Salty had declared a national emergency.

"RIGHT!"

The entire building shook.

A cup fell off a shelf.

Whizzley ran out of the toilet.

The Stig appeared from behind a curtain.

Big Al woke up for the first time since Monday.

Gov and Danny Boy came charging through the front door.

"What happened?" shouted Gov.

"Are we under attack?" shouted Danny Boy.

"No," said Salty.

"Then why are you shouting?"

"Because I've seen the population figures!"

Danny Boy looked confused.

"Is that bad?"

Salty slapped the newspaper onto the table.

"Over 110,000 people arrived in Ireland in twelve months!"

Silence.

McFinleyyy slowly put down his toast.

Ye Olde Large Lad looked at the newspaper.

Gov scratched his head.

Danny Boy looked at Whizzley.

Whizzley looked back.

"Where are they all going?"

Salty pointed at him.

"THAT'S THE QUESTION!"

The Stig raised his hand.

"Could we put them on the racetrack?"

"No."

"Just checking."

Salty paced around the kitchen.

"Now listen carefully. This isn't about blaming individual people who come here. People come to Ireland for all sorts of reasons — work, study, family, safety and opportunity."

Sarah nodded.

Susan agreed.

"But," Salty continued, "if Ireland's population is growing rapidly, the Government needs a proper plan."

He pointed towards the television.

"Where are the houses?"

Silence.

"Where are the hospital beds?"

Nothing.

"Where are the GPs?"

Still nothing.

"Where are the school places?"

More silence.

"And where are the bloody buses?"

The Stig stood up.

"Stuck in traffic."

Salty stared at him.

"Thank you, Minister for Transport."

"You're welcome."

"You haven't actually done anything."

"I've identified the problem."

"That's not solving it."

"Oh."

Gov suddenly raised his hand.

"I've got an idea."

Everyone turned.

"What?"

"Build more houses."

Salty nodded.

"Good."

Gov smiled.

"Then build more roads."

"Good."

"Then build more hospitals."

"Good."

"Then build more schools."

"Excellent."

Danny Boy jumped in.

"And build more pubs."

Salty stared at him.

"Why?"

Danny Boy looked offended.

"Because after all that building, everyone will need a drink."

John Daniels immediately stood up.

"I second that."

Captain Morgan raised his glass.

"Motion carried."

THE EMERGENCY MISFITS SUMMIT

Within twenty minutes, the kitchen had become the headquarters of the Misfits National Commission for Figuring Out What The Government Is Doing.

Ye Olde Large Lad became Deputy Commissioner.

McFinleyyy became Minister for Toast.

The Stig became Minister for Transport.

Whizzley became Minister for Running Around Doing Nothing.

John Daniels and Captain Morgan became joint Ministers for Pubs.

Purty became Minister for Social Media.

Dinkz became Minister for Looking Suspicious.

Big Al became Minister for Sleeping.

Walshyy became Minister for Losing Important Documents.

Gov became Minister for Housing.

Danny Boy became Minister for Common Sense.

The Govna remained Minister for Kitchen Affairs.

Sarah and Susan became Special Advisers.

Salty looked around proudly.

"Right. We've got a government."

Danny Boy looked at the appointment list.

"What's the budget?"

Salty hesitated.

"€14.73."

Danny Boy stared at him.

"That's not a government."

"Why?"

"That's what I spend on lunch."

McFinleyyy immediately raised his hand.

"Can I have some?"

"No."

"Even if I'm Minister for Toast?"

"Especially because you're Minister for Toast."

THE HOUSING CRISIS

Gov stood up.

"As Minister for Housing, I've got one question."

"What?"

"Where are we going to build all these houses?"

Everyone became quiet.

"Exactly," said Gov.

"We need land."

"Planning."

"Workers."

"Materials."

"And infrastructure."

Salty nodded.

"Now we're getting somewhere."

Gov looked pleased.

Danny Boy leaned over.

"And maybe we could stop announcing grand plans every five minutes and actually build the bloody things."

The room erupted.

Salty pointed at him.

"Danny Boy!"

"What?"

"You're promoted."

"To what?"

"Minister for Saying What Everyone Else Is Thinking."

Danny Boy nodded.

"I'll take it."

WHIZZLEY'S SOLUTION

Whizzley suddenly jumped onto a chair.

"I've solved the whole problem!"

Everyone groaned.

"What is it?"

"We build a second Ireland."

Silence.

Gov blinked.

"A second Ireland?"

"Yep."

"Where?"

"Beside the first one."

Danny Boy stared at him.

"That's not how countries work."

"Why not?"

"Because..."

Danny Boy paused.

"Actually, I don't know."

Salty shook his head.

"No. Absolutely not."

Whizzley climbed down.

"Fine."

He wandered away.

Five seconds later he shouted:

"I've found the toaster!"

The Govna screamed.

"PUT THAT DOWN!"

SALTY'S FINAL WORD

That evening, Salty stood outside Misfit Headquarters with the entire gang behind him.

The television cameras were rolling.

The Misfits had somehow attracted a small crowd.

Salty cleared his throat.

"Ireland is changing."

The crowd listened.

"Our population is growing, and immigration is an important part of that growth."

He paused.

"This isn't about blaming ordinary people."

Sarah and Susan nodded.

"It's about asking whether the country has the houses, hospitals, schools, roads and public transport needed to support that growth."

Gov stepped forward.

"And whether we're actually building enough."

Danny Boy added:

"And whether the people making the decisions have a proper long-term plan."

Salty smiled.

"Exactly."

The Stig shouted:

"And better roads!"

Whizzley shouted:

"And better buses!"

John Daniels shouted:

"And more pubs!"

Captain Morgan raised his glass.

"Definitely more pubs."

Salty sighed.

"Nobody said anything about pubs."

Danny Boy looked at him.

"Give it five minutes."

Everyone laughed.

Salty raised his mug.

"Whatever your views on immigration, Ireland needs a serious conversation about population, housing, infrastructure and how we plan for the future."

The Misfits nodded.

It was possibly the most sensible thing Salty had ever said.

Then Big Al woke up.

"Have we solved immigration?"

Everyone looked at him.

"No."

"Have we solved housing?"

"No."

"Have we solved the traffic?"

"No."

"Have we solved the toaster?"

Everyone looked towards the kitchen.

There was another loud BANG!

The Govna screamed.

"WHO TOUCHED MY KITCHEN?!"

Whizzley slowly raised his hand.

"Sorry."

Salty shook his head.

"Right."

He looked at Danny Boy.

"Get the beers in."

Danny Boy smiled.

"Now THAT'S a policy I can support."

SPLATTTTT!

THE END