*We join the lads celebrating yet another victory*
MON: Excellent lads, excellent. Now before I go on to tell you about ....
*MON is interrupted by an odd noise, he casts his gaze over the players most of which look confused or are shrugging their shoulders*
MON: Hmmm, anyway we're showing good form, I'm proud of the lot of you, especially you young Jim, what a cracking hit, the referee was right to award you with the gold card of merit.
Milner: It were a yellow card .... For fouling boss
MON: And a grand foul it was too I'm sure. Now we must stay focused on...
*MON is interrupted by the odd noise again. The door knocks, MON opens it to Steve Bruce*
MON: Steve ... Are you alright?
*Bruce looks incredibly worried and quite pale*
Bruce: Martin, you've not seen ma Darren Bent have ya like? I've not seen him since just after kick-off.
MON: I'm afraid not Steve, I shall keep my eye ....
*The odd noise gets louder*
Bruce: That's ma Darren! I'd know the sound of his muffled struggle anywhere!
*MON and Bruce track the sound down to Richard Dunne's holdall bag*
MON: What's in the bag Richard?
Dunne: Nothin' dere bass.
MON: So I'm not going to find a Sunderland striker if I unzip it?
*Dunnes eyes shift to the ground, MON unzips it, Darren Bent spits out the rolled up Villa sock in his mouth*
Bent: Boss, you saved me!
*Bruce and Bent hug*
MON: I'm sorry Steve. Richard what have I told you about kidnapping Premier League strikers!?
Dunne (still looking down): To do it bass?
MON: No Richard, NOT to do it, why must you keep embarrassing me in front of the other managers!?
*Bruce leads a crying Bent out of the Dressing Room*
MON: Nice work Richard.
Dunne: Cheers bass. What shall we do with this one?
*Dunne turns around to reveal a frowning Kenwyne Jones with his arms folded in his back pocket*
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