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O'Reilly The Mole

An SAS man was sent to south Armagh to try and rout the IRA active service unit in a small village near Crossmaglen. He was to make contact with a mole called O'Reilly, and the password was: 'Isn't it dreadful weather for June?'
So, he was dropped by helicopter two miles from the village in the early morning, and he walked there across the heathery hills, to arrive just as the shops were opening. He thought he would start hunting for his contact by looking for any shops called O'Reilly's. But as he walked down the single street, all he could see was O'Reilly's Butcher, O'Reilly's Chemist, O'Reilly's Hardware Store, O'Reilly's Jacuzzi Supplies...
Stumped, he walked into O'Reilly's pub, which was open despite the early hour. O'Reilly the publican was leaning on the well-polished bar, and the SAS man ordered a pint of stout from him. The two of them chatted away, and the publican was so friendly that after a while the SAS man wondered if, after all, this could be the O'Reilly he was looking for.
'Actually, the reason I'm here,' he said tentatively, is to... ah... look for an old friend called O'Reilly.'
'Ah, well,' said the publican, 'as you can see, they're all O'Reillys around here. Which one was it you were looking for?'
What the hell, thought the SAS man. In at the deep end, and all that... So he leaned across the bar and whispered: Isn't it dreadful weather for June?'
'Ah yes,' said the publican, 'It was O'Reilly the mole you were looking for.'


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