the last law left in a world gone out of control

Browsing through the newspaper rack at the Topaz garage on the Dublin road outside Naas.
I give a sudden shudder.
My eye has fallen on The Leinster Leader.
So they're still publishing it.
Five years after its takeover by collapsing Brit conglomerate The Johnston Press, and four years after the monumentally buffoonish decision to fire me.
The presses are still rolling.
Meaning the bankrupt banks are still lending em public money to keep the doors open.
With no real ill will, I calmly place a copy of Motor Cycle Weekly on top of the Leinster Leader pile.
Let's see if we can bring down the non existent readership another few copies.
For old time's sake!
I turn.
My eye falls on the top row of the magazine shelf.
Three porno mags are posited in plain view.
Playboy, Penthouse, and Hustler.
Well who would have thunk it.
So there are afterall publications I hold in lower regard than the Leinster Leader.
With a faint fantastical smile playing about my handsome preraphaelite features, I gently remove a Leinster Leader from below Motor Cycle Weekly, and place it on the magazine rack so that it completely covers Playboy, Penthouse and Hustler.
You know what folks.
Mad Max was right.
One man can make a difference.