A foreigner comes to Malta to check out our hunting ways and our hunters try scaring the daylights out of the foreigner. Serves him right for interfering in our affairs. Go back home we don’t need you thank you very much.

The police take the foreigner to their headquarters. Good for our police force. Strong and able-bodied as always. Damn tourists and journalists—if they come to smell our armpits we give them our good old-fashioned macho answers and if possible we crush their silly pens and cameras.

Get off our land and go back to England or wherever you come from. We are kings of our land and no rules of EU or any other stupid place will stop us from having our fiery fun.

You shall not trespass on our sacred ground. Be off with you.

Hunters hunt. Maltese rule. Police rightly interrogate all meddlers. And hopefully will get the message—we don’t want them here. Long live our great country.


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