*We join the lads gearing up for their semi-final clash against Chelsea*
MON: Ah I love a semi.
*The dressing room erupts with laughter.*
MON: Alright settle down you filthy lot.
Collins: Oh My God! What're we going to do!? We can't do anything against the Chelsea machine! We're doomed!
*Collins grabs MON by both sides of his tracksuit jacket and screams hysterically in his face*
Collins: Doomed!!!
*Petrov adjusts the captain's armband and slaps Collins about the face*
Petrov: Get a hold of yourself! They are but men!
*Collins ashamedlely lowers his head*
Collins: I'm sorry captain ... I shall issue an apology via Twitter at once.
Petrov: I don't use Twitter, it's weird.
*a grinning Delph slaps Collins*
Delph: Get a hold of yourself!
Collins: Ow! I already had a hold of myself!
Delph: Yeah ... Right ... Sorry.
*MON has a knowing glint in his eye and a wry smile*
Dunne: What's with tha knowin' glint in yer eye dere bass?
Cuellar: Och an ye wee, wry smile?
MON: Easter lads, Frank Lampard will no doubt have stuffed himself to a stupour, look at him.
*MON hits a notice board with his pointer there is a picture of Frank Lampard in action with a "+" sign, then a picture of a foil wrapped easter egg, then an "=" sign then a picture MON jumping for joy*
MON: He has the look of a man partial to a chocolate egg or two does he not? This will exponentially slow him down. Pah! John Terry dared question our discipline and it will be theirs which will be their undoing!
*The lads slowly hide the eggs they have been scoffing throughout the team talk, Ashley Young is sliding an egg underneath his chair with his foot*
A.Young: Great plan boss.
*Cuellar is dusting Cadbury's Flake from his beard*
Cuellar: Aye, brillian'.
*NRC enters, he's beaming and casually eating an easter egg*
NRC: Hey guys great news, the physio says I'm fit to play and .... Why's everyone looking at me like that?
MON: You always have to defy me don't you Nigel?
NRC: Defy you? What ... You want some easter egg?
*The room falls silent and uncomfortable as MON seeths with rage, NRC puts one cupped hand to his mouth and addresses the lads*
NRC (whispering): Is he diabetic?
*Delph breaks the silence slapping Collins*
Delph: Get a hold of yourself!
Collins: I said I'm fine!
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