Saturday 29 August 2009

Pooooooooooooooost Vienna

We join the "devastated" lads in the dressing room*

Milner: I cannae believe it man, we wun but we lost, it's bloon me mind like.

Davies: My shoulder hurts.

Heskey: I must say that was one of the finest games I've ever played.

Carew: What're you talking about!? I played better than you and I have a toe virus, the flu, the black plague, TB, tonsilitus, polio, rubella, diptheria and a chronic case of the hiccups. You didn't even score!

Davies: Hello? My shoulder hurts.

Heskey: Score!? Good heavens! Of course I didn't score, I'm a defensive midfielder my good man.

*the team in unison turn to Heskey*

Sidwell: You're a what now?

Heskey: Defensive Midfielder, y'know a "DM", battling it out in the middle of the park, venturing forward? Oooooh No, not for me.

*MON enters the dressing room, the players fall quiet*

Davies: My shoulder Hurts!

MON: Right lads, chins up. It's a good thing really, We're concentrating on the league anyway.

*Delfouneso raises his hand*

MON: Nathan?

Delfouneso: er.... Boss, what's the point of fighting to get to europe if we're not going to compete in europe?

MON: Oh Nathan, you little scamp, have you been playing the computer games?

Delfouneso: No boss, I don't play computers, mum says they dull the brain. I read books, are you familiar with the works of J.K.Rowling?

MON: Playing the little computer games where you're a little manager and you buy your nonsense foreign players cheap and win games in europe are you Nathan?

Delfouneso: No boss I just said, I read Harry Potter mainly but Artemis Fowl isn't too bad either and...

MON: ...and then you buy your "Jimmy McHagen" from Real Sociedad....

Delfouneso: Are you just deflecting from my question boss?

MON: Yes Nathan, yes I am.

Davies: Guys seriously, my shoulder really hurts.

MON: Anyway, like I was saying it's better really going out at this stage, now we can get good english players who have no interest in playing in europe.

Davies: Is everyone just ignoring me so I have to keep playing and there's no replacement? My shoulders killing me here.

MON: Has anyone seen Curtis, since the match?

*Davies waves his "good" hand in front of MON's face*

Davies: Hello? Hello!?!

.... Davies' hectic interviewing schedule continues ...

SKY Sports News

SSN Interviewer: So Curtis, it must've been a completely devastating blow to go crashing out of europe?

Davies: Well obviously by the extreme negative words you used in the question there it wasn't great. Also I'd like to add my shoulder hurts.

The Chris Moyles Show.

Moyles: So listen to much radio Curtis?

Davies: Yeah, I listen to alot of 1Xtra really, I'm a big fan of this show too though.

Moyles: Yeah, I'll bet, trying to butter us up...

Davies: Seriously I'm a massive fan, I love Dom, Carrie, the whole gang. I'll tell you what though, my shoulder doesn't half hurt.

Tonight with Jonathan Ross.

Ross: Hewo there and welcome to tonight with Jonathan Woss!

*crowd applauds*

Ross: We've got a wight tweat for you tonight ladies and gents, we've got Woger Moore!

*camera pans to Roger Moore*

Moore: Hi!

*crowd applauds*

Ross: We've got 80's legend Woland Wat!

*camera pans to Roland Rat*

Roland Rat: Hello Rat fans!

*crowd applauds*

Ross: and we've got Aston Villa star Curtis Davies!

*camera pans to Curtis Davies*

Davies: My shoulder hurts!

*The crowd erupts with laughter*

Davies: Seriously, I'm dying here

*The crowd erupts with laughter*

Poortsmouth Pt II

*MON and a sobbing, destitute Paul Hart are still bartering over Sylvain Distin's price*

MON: Look Paul, you said yourself, you need protein .... £20 and a 9 pack of Asda saver eggs.

Hart: Can I have 12 eggs?

MON: 12 eggs!? You greedy .... I'll not budge from my ....

*Loud bagpipes can be heard approaching.*

Hart: What in the world?

*MON furrows his brow and grits his teeth*

MON: Moyes!

*David Moyes enters followed by Wee Jimmy Krankie playing the bagpipes*

Moyes: Och! I'll have Sylvain Distin, ya anglish pig.

MON: Hang on a minute Moyes you can't just barge in here dressed as Braveheart with a little boy and disrupt transfer negotiations!

Krankie: Och I'mma girul!

MON: You're a squirrel? You look like a schoolboy to me and....

Moyes: Eh! doon't be tellin' me how ta dress, ya anglish oppressor ya! If I wunt ta don tha kilt of ma ancestors and wear feece paint for transfer battle I ....

MON: I'm not english. I played for Northern Ireland 64 times, scoring 8 goals. I was captain, and a fine captain. I also won the european cup and...

Moyes: Well ya look anglish enough, now you laddie, where's ma Sylvain Distin?

*A loud fanfare is played MON, Hart & Moyes all look stunned as Sulaiman Al Fahim and his lawyer enter*

Sulaiman Al Fahim: Greetings! I come to you today with fine news! I now own this club!

Lawyer: Well technically speaking sir you...

Al Fahim: Quiet you! I am now Dictator of Portsmouth...

Lawyer: Football Club.

Al Fahim: King of Portsmouth....

Lawyer: Football Club.

Al Fahim: Stop that!

Lawyer: Well technically speaking you are the non-executive chairman of ...

Al Fahim: Stop this technical speaking. You *points at Hart* put down that dog food, tonight you eat meat!

Hart: Hurray!

*Hart runs to Al Fahim and hugs his leg*

Al Fahim: I am something the world has never seen before, a billionaire football club owner!

Moyes: Ya dinnae look like a billionaire, ya look like a homeless beggar man.

Al Fahim (turning to the lawyer): What is this flame-haired man saying?

Lawyer: He thinks you look like a homeless person sir.

Al Fahim: Homeless! Homeless! I have many homes, many! And I shall shake the world of football, I am prepared to spend even one million of your pounds to buy a single player! Now guards, seize them!

Lawyer: ... Do you mean me sir?

Al Fahim: Anyone, you pair drag them out.

*Belhadj and Nugent begin (largely unsuccessfully) to pull Moyes and MON out of the office*

MON: Unhand me! Do you know who I am!? I've won the European Cup!

Moyes: Och, ya can take my Distin, but you'll never take my miserable outlook on life!!!

Wednesday 26 August 2009

Poortsmouth

*We join MON, Emile Heskey and Stilyan Petrov as they drive to Fratton Park*

MON: I think this is the car park

*A sign reads "Abandon hope, all ye who enter here"*

MON: Right, so no messing about we come in get the lad and we're off OK?

Heskey & Petrov: Right!

*MON knocks on Paul Hart's door*

MON: Hello? It's Martin O'Neill, European Cup winner and current manager of Aston Villa.

Tearful Voice: There's no-one here!

MON: Oh OK, I'll try again some other time.

Heskey: Boss, I'm pretty sure there must be someone there ... Or who said that?

MON: Good point. I'm glad I brought you Emile.

*MON knocks again*

MON: Hello is there someone there?

Tearful Voice: No.

MON: Paul is that you?

*MON opens the door to find a sobbing Paul Hart eating cheap dog food from the tin*

MON: Paul!? Is that dog food you're eating!?

Paul Hart: We've not got a penny .... and I'm a man Martin ((sniff)) I need the protein ((sob))((sob))

MON: O....K, anyway I'm here to buy one of your players.

Hart: Players? What players? We don't have any players do we Brian?

Kidd: No Paul, no we don't

Petrov: This is not Brian Kidd! This is just Paul Hart's hand being used as puppet boss, see he's using thumb as lower jaw and ...

MON: Yes, I see that Stilyan.

Hart: (sob)(sob) We couldn't even afford to keep Brian on, I've done BBC and SKY interviews with my hand Martin, do you have any idea how embarrassing that is?

MON: Look Paul, I'm just here for a player, I don't really ...

*A muffled cry for help is heard from the door behind Hart's desk*

MON: What's that?

Heskey: It sounded french boss!

Hart: It's nothing.

*MON strides over and opens the door*

MON: Sweet Lord!

*The door reveals Portsmouth's players caged like Battersea Dogs Home, Sylvain Distin bounds to the cage wall*

Distin: Pick me! pick me! One minute we are winning ze FA Curp ze next zey are feeding me dog ferd!

Hart: Please Martin, have mercy, we're losing players to Notts County, NOTTS COUNTY! I didn't even know Nottingham was a county (sob, sob, sob)

Tuesday 25 August 2009

Post Liverpool Tour!

*MON has taken the coach on a detour to tour Liverpool with the team*

MON: As a treat for your fine performance I'm taking you on a tour of Liverpool.

Delph, Delfouneso & Albrighton: Yay!

Heskey: Liverpool? I lived here, it's a dump.

MON: Now now Emile, that was a long time ago, things are different now, it's the European capital of culture.

Heskey: Culture? My missus had to have a panic room in case while I was playing I was....

MON: Come now Emile just sit down and enjoy the tour.

Delph: Mr. Martin, Mr.Martin!

MON: Yes Fabian?

Delph: Why are those people on the street so upset?

MON: Because we beat them Fabian, The liverpudlians love their football, they're a fine lot of fans, probably the best fans in football.

Delph: But they booed their team Mr.Martin you said that booing was fickle and ungrateful and that...

MON: No, no Fabian they were booing the referee.

Delph: Are you sure Mr.Martin? It sounded like they were booing the players to me.

MON: Of course I'm sure, finest fans in the land.

Delph: But I heard one of them say Stevie and Rafa you're a pair of ....

MON:*deceptively pointing out the window* Ahh look that's where the Beatles met.

Delfouneso: The .... Beatles?

MON: Yeah you know, THE Beatles. Twist and Shout *MON does the twist* Yellow Submarine, Lucy in the sky with diamonds?

Delfouneso: Lucy in the what? Are you OK boss?

NRC: They're like an oldschool "JLS" Nathan.

Delfouneso: Oh .... OK, bet they weren't as good as JLS though.

*Delfouneso and Delph start singing "Beat Again"*

MON: What? Stop singing that nonsense!

*The scouser from Hollyoaks is spotted outside*

Sidwell: Look, it's the scouser from Hollyoaks! *leaning out the window* Oi! Scouse bloke from Hollyoaks your team's **** *cupping his hands* Booooooooo!

Scouser from Hollyoaks: What Ho? The Arsenal? rubbish you say?

Sidwell: hang on, whats with the voice? you're not a scouser at all!?!

Scouser from Hollyoaks: Heavens no, I'm from Buckinghamshire, I've come to research my role.

Sidwell: Oh .... Right.

*Sidwell dejected returns to his seat*

Match 2: Post Liverpool

*We join the lads celebrating as MON walks into the dressing Room*

MON: 3-1! I can't believe this! You've let me down again lads! They'll have my head for this, that fickle bunch of ...

Davies: We won 3-1 boss.

MON: What!?

Davies: we won!

MON: Oh .... Well in that case... Yippee! *MON jumps clicking his heels* Get in there lads. Heskey hat trick was it?

*The Dressing Room erupts with laughter*

MON: What? Petrov Hat trick?

*The Dressing Room erupts with laughter*

MON: Where are you going Isaiah?

*Osbourne lugs a heavy record case towards the door with his headphones around his neck*

Osbourne: I've got loads of jobs on tonight boss, apparantly every DJ in Liverpool has phoned in sick, I'm going to rake it in.

Europa: Post Rapid Wien

*We join MON in the Dressing Room post Vienna with a censored MON not too happy*

MON: What the ((ULTRAVOX)) was that!? You bunch of ((ULTRAVOX))s! My ((ULTRAVOX)) job is on the ((ULTRAVOX)) line here!

Heskey: Don't be silly boss, the fans would never turn on you.

Petrov: No, not Villa fans boss. They're not fickle, they just didn't like David O'Leary ....

MON: Ah, I could never stay mad at you guys, come here and give me a hug.

*Heskey and Petrov hug MON*

MON: Where do you think you're going!?

Osbourne: I was just going to join in the hug

MON: Join in the hug!? You know the rules Isaiah.

*Osbourne lowers his head*

MON: and what are the rules?

Osbourne: Rule 1, never remove your tracksuit jacket.

MON: Next, louder!

Osbourne: Rule 2! Only Emile and Stilyan can hug Mr.O'Neill!

MON: Are you Emile, Isaiah?

Osbourne: No boss, my scoring record's quite reasonable for my position to be honest and ...

MON: Are you Stilyan?

Osbourne: No boss, but I can be a bit slower if that would....

MON: Then no hugs for you.

Guzan: Hey boss, I was er just wondering .... What do I gotta do to get in the first team?

MON: Score more goals lad, you're a disgrace. Look at Emile, you don't see him throwing his body to the ground and not scoring goals.

Guzan: O...K

MON: I'll let you in on something lads, I wasn't just watching that match I was scouting.

NRC: Oh yeah? See anyone you like?

MON: Oh yes, their right winger, the number 21, Shorey, he was in the middle of all their play put about a fair few good passes for them, always setting them up, always a danger, magnificent.

NRC: Shorey's OUR left back boss.

MON WHAT!?!

Match 1: Post Wigan

*We join a deflated team post Wigan match*

Young: I .... I don't understand, I ran at them .... but they didn't part .... They .... They tackled me!?

Carew (rubbing his sore foot): It's OK Ashley, it happens to the best of us.

Young: Not me! I'm Ashley Young!

Shorey (shaking): It .... it was terrible, they were all over me. The horror, The absolute HORROR!

*NRC slaps Nicky with his UNBANDAGED hand*

NRC: Get a grip man, get a hold of yourself!

Shorey: But I'm so shakey

NRC: Where's Carlos?

Shorey: I think he's still on the pitch, contemplating on whether to put a tackle in or not

NRC: But the match finished an our ago!

*MON enters the dressing room, it falls to a deathly silence*

MON: Once again you've all let me down.

*the heads in the dressing room bow*

MON: Except you Stilyan and of course you Emile.

*Heskey and Petrov sport wide grins*

MON: Where's Fabian?

Osbourne: he was told the dressing room's haunted, he's too scared to come in.

MON: What idiot said that!?! Was it you Isaiah? So help me you'll never play for this club again if...

Osbourne: It was Stilyan boss!

MON: Oh .... Well in that case what a cracking joke Stilyan, you're hilarious.

Petrov: Thanks boss.

MON: Now where's Moustapha with my drink.

*Salifou come huffing into the dressing room*

Salifou: I have bad news boss...there's no Diet Coke.

MON: WHAT!?!? This is a nightmare! And don't think I don't know yours and Isaiah's voices are hoarse from singing "John Carew, Carew"!

Match 1: Wigan

*We join the lads in the dressing room gearing up for their match*

MON: OK lads, we're up against Wigan ...

*Sidwell raises his hand*

Sidwell: we're playing rugby boss?

MON: No Steve, right first of all we're going to have to give Roberto Martinez the respect he deserves

Heskey: None boss?

MON: Correct

*the dressing room erupts with laughter*

MON: Now Isaiah it's your time to shine...

Osbourne: Oh Yeah! I knew this day would come, first day of the season. Cometh the hour, cometh Isaiah

MON:...the bench, the Mr Sheen's in your locker.

*the dressing room erupts with laughter*

MON: Get's him everytime ((cough))((cough))((cough)) Who's smoking in the dressing room!?

Delph: I boss, when I t'were a lad I say we all smoked our pipes in the dressing room.

MON: What? Put it out or whatever you do with pipes to stop smoking them and get rid of that tankard of ale and copy of "Whippet's Weekly". You're in the midlands now son, not some northern, league one outfit!

*Delph lowers his head and removes his flat cap*

MON: Now Barry I want you to lead with example.

Young: Barry's not here boss.

MON: Not here? It's unlike Villa's spiritual leader to be late, I'm sure he's caught up signing autographs for the kids or shaking hands with the Villa faithful.

Young: He left for Manchester.

MON: But we're playing Wigan at home!

Young: No he plays for Man City now.

MON: Oh ....Oh yeah, Best think of getting a replacement for him then eh?

Amnesia

We join MON in his office which in this time of transfers carnage he has renamed "the battle room"

MON (on phone): Pah! I hate the waiting music for Blackburn

*The Coronation Street theme plays*

Big Sam: Ey up Martin I say Martin! 'Ow can I 'elp you!?

MON: Hang on, this is Big Sam isn't it? Not Fred Elliot.

Big Sam: Aye Lad I say aye! Fred Elliot's dead for a start!

MON: Why are you shouting down the phone like that?

Big Sam: Because I'm big!

MON: Oh, OK well anyway have you thought about the £4 million offer I tabled for Warnock? I think you'll find it's a fair ...

Big Sam: You'll have to treble it or yer can ferget it I say yer can ferget it!

MON: £12 million!?

Big Sam: Aye or yer can ferget I say yer ....

MON: Forget what?

Big Sam: Eh? What yer on about lad, Warnock I say Warnock.

MON: Who?

Big Sam: Yer know Stephen Warnock, full back, used to play for the scousers! ...

MON: Never heard of him.

Big Sam: But yer just called to ....

MON: Who are you?

Big Sam: It's me Big ...

MON: Where am I?

*MON hangs up*

Big Sam: Hello!? Martin?! Hello?!

Interested?

*MON is wrapping up his press conference*

MON: Right that's the Delph thing sorted, any questions? Each journalist will be escorted out after I have answered the single question they are allowed.

Journo #1: Like Wesley do you?

MON: Wesley Snipes? Yes I'm a big fan of his "Blade 2" in particular I'd say my overall favourite is "White Men Can't Jump" though, it's a classic, I'd go so far as to say that....

Journo #2: No, no he means Sneijder.

MON: Rob Schneider? Deuce Bigalow, Male Gigalo? Brilliant, though I would have to say that my favourite film with him in is Waterboy, I mean he only has a bit part in that but I must say....

Journo #3: Why are you deflecting the question Martin? Are....

MON: That's an odd question, what a waste of your question, am I deflecting questions? Perhaps, or maybe not but let me tell you about the fruit fly, did you know that fruit flies have got ....

....later....

*two reporters stand left at the conference.*

MON: .... and that is why orange smarties taste different to the rest.

*Journo #53 is escorted toward door*

Journo #53(to security): Get your hands off me! That wasn't my question Martin. That wasn't my question!

*Journo #53 is bundled out of the door*

Journo #54 (speaking at accelerated pace to beat MON's deflection tactics): Are you interested in Wesley Sneijder as a footballer to sign for your club, Aston Villa?

MON: Hmm, good question I'd like to....

*Harry Redknapp barges into the press conference and grabs one of MON's microphones*

Redknapp: I like the lad. I think he's triffic'!

Watch Out ....

- In an earlier article on 606 it was said that Curtis Davies tries to be Rio Ferdinand, I wonder how far he will go .....

Davies: Wassup! It's me ya boy Curtis today we iz gonna smash up Salifou's car aiii!

*cuts to a scene*

Salifou: My car! My beautiful car! I only had two payments left!

*Cuts back to Davies*

Davies: Also we iz gonna merk Zat by messing up his mind

*cuts to a scene*

Knight: Yippee, stuff you flat caps!

*Cuts back to Davies*

Davies: And we iz gonna see how NRC reacts when aliens invade, ya get me though?

*cuts to a scene*

NRC (quivering and standing on a chair): Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God.

*Cuts back to Davies*

Davies: First off we gonna merk my main man, Moustapha Salifou. He be drivin' a P Reg Vauxhall Tigra, his pride and joy.

*Davies points to a screen as the camera zooms in*

*Salifou & Osbourne walk to the car park in time to see Salifou's car dropped from 30 ft in the air by a crane*

Salifou: Oh ((BLEEP!)), that's Betsy! ((BLEEP!))

Osbourne: So can I still get a lift or what? My mum's cooking shepherd's pie tonight I can't wait to ...

Salifou (holding back tears): Nevermind ((BLEEP!)) Sherperd's pie! Look at my ((BLEEP!)) car!

*Salifou crawls on his knees to a twisted and smashed "Betsy"*

Salifou: My car! My beautiful car! I only had two payments left!

Osbourne (now eating a pack of Wotsits from his training bag): Seriously though you can still get me home, yeah?

Salifou (now sobbing like a baby): Why God!?!?! Whyyyyyyyy !?!?

*Davies emerges from the crane wearing dungarees and a train drivers hat removing a fake moustache*

Salifou (pointing at Davies wiping tears and beginning to smile): You ((BLEEP!)) You had me fooled you ((BLEEP!))

Davies: Ha Ha! You been merked boyee!!

Salifou: So Betsy's OK right? This is just some other car yeah?

Davis: Hell no, what you take me for Rio or somethin'?

Salifou: What!?!

Osbourne: Curtis can you give me a lift home, it's sherperd's pie tonight.

*We return to the studio where Curtis Davies is laughing heartily to himself*

Davies: That Sali, he was so merked. Anyway back to business. Next we got my old homeboy Zat Knight in a bit of trouble when we phoned him at training

*Davies points to a screen as the camera zooms in*

Davies (on phone): Safe Zat! It's Davies, what's up?

Knight: Listen Kevin, I won't be bullied by you any more I don't care what you....

Davies: er.... It's Curtis.

Knight:Oh .... Oh right. Hi Curtis. I tell you what it's great to have joined Bolton, they're a team going places, with a great history and a great manager.

Davies: It's OK Zat you don't need to lie to me, tell it how it is.

Knight: It's awful (starts sobbing) They all smell of tea and pipe-smoke, all they talk about is whippet racing and coronation street, they don't eat vegetables and they can't play football!!

*Knight sobs for two minutes on the phone*

Davies (stifling laughter): Well what would you say if I told you it was all a joke for my TV show and you're still a Villa player.

Knight: Really? Have I been merked?

Davies: Yeah

Knight: Yippee, stuff you flat caps!

*Davies can still hear Zat though he's lowered his phone*

Knight: Kevin! Hey Kevin, yeah you Kevin Davies. Your a ((BLEEP!))((BLEEP!)) and Megson you're a proper ginger ((BLEEP!)). I'm out of here peace out you ((BLEEP!))

Davies: Zat ..... Zat ...... Zat!

*Knight raises the phone to his ear*

Knight: Yeah?

Davies: You weren't really merked, you have been now though.

Knight: Oh ((BLEEP!))

Born and .... Bread

*John Robertson and Steve Sidwell return from doing Martin O'Neill's shopping trip at Asda*

Robertson: Och it was murder at Asda boss, I'm not going on Sunday afternoon again.

MON: Steve behave himself did he?

Robertson: Well y'know the lad he was a tad aggressive and he wouldn't sit still in the trolley.

*Sidwell drags in the shopping from the car*

Robertson: Good lad

*Robertson goes to pat Sidwell on the head, Sidwell growls and snaps at his hand*

Robertson: anyway got your frozen peas and carrots, Birdseye Potato Waffles, fish fingers ....

*a young lad strolls into the kitchen wearing a flat cap and smoking a pipe*

Robertson: Fabien Delph, a pack of Mr.Kipling's Cherry Bakewells...

MON: Whoa, whoa, whoa. What did you just say?

Robertson: Cherry Bakewells? Like you said boss, they're your favourites.

MON: No, before that.

Robertson: Fabien Delph?

*the lad tips his flat cap*

Delph: 'ow do?

MON: Fabien Delph? I didn't ask for him?!

Robertson: yeah you did boss you said "and pick up Delph, Delph's on offer"

MON: I said pick up Elf! Elf's on offer! The Will Ferrell comedy where a man is raised by elves and sets out to find his true identity with hilarious consequences....

Delph: I remember when I t'were a lad, me gran give me a hapenny bit to buy a loaf of Hovis and....

MON: What's he on about? Take him back John.

Robertson: Boss you can't take players back.

Delph: ....after I'd been t'shops I went to t'races t'were a great time I tell thee, and then we...

MON: (Sigh!)

Rumour Fiction

Salifou (with an oversized afro dripping with activator) and Craig Gardner (who's grown a ponytail) both in sharp suits found Darren Bent in a safehouse with Wayne Routledge and for some reason Tony Daley.

Salifou: They don't have a quarter pounder in Togo, you know why they don't have the quarter pounder in Togo?

Bent: Because they don't have anything in Togo?

Salifou: Check out the big brain on Bent! Now let me ask you a question Bent, what does Martin O'Neill look like?

Bent: What?

Salifou(agitated): Say what again, Bent I dare you, I double dare you say what one more time. What does Martin O'Neill look like?

Bent: He's small!

Salifou: What else?

Bent: He's irish!

Salifou: Does he look like Phil Brown?

Bent: What!

*Routledge gets shot*

Salifou: Does he look like Phil Brown?

Bent: No

Salifou: Then why won't you sign for him Bent?

The Wizard of EPL

*Dorthy and Toto skip down the yellow brick road and are confronted by three Premier League managers in need*

The Feisty Scarecrow:
When I see those english players
I have to remove layers
their long-balls are works of art.
*whistles*
You can keep Etoos and Messis
we don't need those foreign jessies
We need an average, british heart

The Bung Hungry Lion:
When I see those pound notes flicker
my heart beats so much quicker
my face no longer sags
*whistles*
all these transfers flow much nicer
and add to my grandkids ISAs
when they have brown paper bags


The Tin Puppet:
I wipe my backside with twenties
"world class" players? "he" signs plenty
domination is our goal
*whistles*
But I wish that I could choose one
before I get told to "do one"
if I only had control

Hijack!

*We join a buoyant Steve Bruce and eager Darren Bent "in talks" in Steve Bruce office*

Bruce: Soor lad, like I was sayin, if yas come to Sunderland like, yas could be as big as tha Poominator man.

Bent: Wow, Mart Poom, really? You think so? Right where do I sign?

*Bruce with a huge grin slides a contract towards Darren Bent at which point a scream can be heard increasing in volume with Bruce and Bent turning to the window in time to witness two boots heading towards it with a glass shattering smash*

Bruce: What in tha world man!?

*A short balaclava donned man wearing a tracksuit with the number 31 emblazoned on the jacket strides forward the sun glinting from his spectacles*

Bruce: Could ya not have just knocked like?

*the door knocks, Bruce answers. A man wearing a balaclava barges past Bruce into the office*

Bruce (Nervously): So .... Martin, Isaiah hows can I help ya like?

Osbourne: How did you know it was us?

Bruce: Well you're wearing a full Villa Kit with "Osbourne" on the back for a start like.

MON: What have I told you about that tracksuit jacket Isaiah!?

Osbourne: sorry boss.

MON: We've come for Bent.

Bent: Hurray!

*MON and Osbourne link arms with Bent, MON whistles and a ladder is dropped in from a helicopter and our heroes are hoisted away*