Match 6: Blackburn Rovers

*MON strides into the Dressing Room, he's grown a beard and a long mane of warriors hair*

MON: Stand, men.

*The lads all stand in a row, MON walks up and down their ranks, Salifou follows behind him beating a drum, Osbourne holds a tall Aston Villa flag*

MON: Brothers, I won't lie to you. I know Big Sams tactics, some of you won't make it back alive today.

Delph: Oh Jesus no!

MON: Calm yourselves! You will be kicked, crushed and battered out there, you'll litter the field with your blood, limbs and quite possibly your entrails.

Delph: But .... I like my blood, my limbs and my entrails.

MON: We all do Fabien, we all do. This is not enough to stop the twisted violence of Sam Allardyce and his brutal thuggish excuses for players as they impose there wicked brand of awful "football" on us.

Young: I'm gonna dance around 'em boss, that's what I'm gonna do.

*Young places a flat hand on his stomach and gyrates his hips like a latin dancer, the dressing room erupts with laughter*

MON: FOOLS! They'll dance on your face and grave if you give them a chance!

Delph (now quivering with fear): How, how can we beat them ... What can men do against such wreckless hate?

MON: I have a plan, early goals to break their spirit. Gabriel you like goals don't you?

*Gabby's eyes light up*

Gabby: YEAH!!

MON: And are you willing to die for goals?

*Gabby's bottom lift shifts to the right and envelopes his top lip, he scratches his head deep in thought*

Gabby: erm ...No.

MON: No!? Hmmm, then it's plan B, we avoid them. Long ball to Heskey it is!

*Young raises with hand*

MON: Ashley?

Young: Boss with all due respect I'd RATHER die.

*The dressing room erupts with laughter*

MON: Enough of this idle banter it's off to battle and glory! Hurrah!

*MON rides an imaginary horse out of the dressing room, the lads look at each other confused*

Young: I think the 6 wins have gone to his head...