Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Somewhere deep in Old Trafford's vitals. A trio of smart-suited suits wait in an office. A desk sitting near-dormant precedes a chair sitting well-vacant, all preceding a season now sitting all-too tenuous.
The office door opens. The ass to whom the chair's groove belongs enters. Cue: The Tipping Point.
Sralex: Well, boys, Little Carlitos has officially wandered over to Man Shitty. (giggles) Sounds like our summer dealings are all 'bout dealt with. Break out them Bud Light Limes!
Boardroommate #2: But Alex, we've--
S: Alex? Who the hell is Alex? I all of a sudden knelt before the god damn Queen for no reason at all, for shits n' giggles or something?
B2: (sighs)...Sir, we've lost two extremely vital offensive weapons, and still have most of the Ronaldo money left to spend on replacements.
S: What're you talking about, replacements? I already dealt with replacin' those two little ungrateful shits while on the Tyne -- that's what the trip up north was for, or we don't remember that one, fellas?
Boardroommate #1: You came back with Michael Owen.
S: Did you or did you not see the brochure? Did you or did you not see the fifth page? Is he or is he not a Manchester United player in that there picture? Answer all of those, right now, in order.
B1: (sighs)...yes, I did; yes, I did, and yeah, he kinda does. But those alone aren't really enough to take on Michael Owen at this stage, are they?
S: It looks like for free they most definitely were, sunshine. Am I right or am I right, guys? SUH-MURR!
B2: But we don't need free. Like I said, most of the Ronaldo fee is still available to us. Atlético has called numerous times about their fee for Agüero. They're calling us, Alex.
B2: (exaggerated sigh)....Sir.
S: Look, we still have Wayne and Baby Berbz, so just think of Mike...as not the new Tevez, but as the new Louie Saha, alright? That should cool your nerves, hun.
B2: Uh, it doesn't really.
B1: Nor mine either.
S: And what about you, Doug Mutie? Got anything to say for yourself while we're standin' here?
Boardroomate #3: ...uhhhh, well...for one, your other two buys were on recommendation from rival Premier League managers.
S: Well, it's not my fault that Brucie got the Black Cats job while I was up north, now is it? Look, I only called him to congratulate him on his new post, see if he wanted to meet up for eighteen and a mo-hee-to since I was up there, natch. Totally harmless. So when he answers, of course he's in Honduras scouting, only he says he's stuck on account of some military high-koo, or something? Didn't understand it then, still really don't. So anyway, we got to talking, and eventually we got around to Bitchiano leaving and he mentioned that he had had a winger at Wigan...winger at Wigan, that flows kinda nice there, don't it? Anyway, he said he had had a player at Wigan that looked like the lovechild of Ronaldo and Nani, but wasn't Portuguese and thus wasn't a whiny diiive turkey. So I obviously had myself a gander, and he looked innoc-yuss enough, so BAM! 16 mil, out the door. Seein' no problem with that, hoss.
B3: ...well...uh...alright whatever, what about the French kid, then? You didn't consult Arsène at all about him?
S: I mean, it's not like he told me, "Hey, Sir Alex, there's this kid on Bordeaux, plays on the flanks, spit buckets o'talent; you should look into him." If anything, he mentioned him in passin'.
B1: But Sir, if you don't mind me saying, they're your com-pe-ti-tion! As in those standing between us and our fourth straight crown?
S: Who, Arsène? Can I have some of what yer high on there, son? Ol' Arse is waaay too busy listening to Melody Nelson on repeat to challenge this year, please. And are you including Sunderland, too? Honestly, gimme them there tweeds yer hittin'? Who thinks Sunderland is contendin' anytime soon?
B1: Well, no, obviously they aren't, but--
S: Look, I've gotta jet now if I wanna make this noon tee time.
B1,B2: Tee time?
S: (heading towards door) With Tiger at Turnberry, gentlemen. Gotta love them Nike connections, right? Heh-ha! What's up, SUMMER!?
B2: But Sir Alex, the Ronaldo money -- the board would really rather see it not collect dust, and not just sit there.
S: (everything but one foot out the door) Sit there? Nah, boys, that money's marinatin'! Go ahead and look at a calendar for me, and then read back to me about how it's 2009. Otherwise known as the year before 2010.
S: (from elevator) What are ya'll, thick? Throwin' our hat in the LeBron sweepstakes, bitches! WIT-NESS!!!