The story so far http://www.not606.com/showthread.php/79527-Story-time During a cold storm night, had a big argument with boss (Mick McCarthy), had just ordered a pizza when attacked in the kitchen with a rolling pin. Whilst trying to figure out how to escape from tax avasion charge, found out that Mick McCarthy had impregnated wife... (never a good thing) During these troubled times, had a nasty call from crowntime (an evil sob). In a fit of rage, took car keys and grabbed hold of nearest weapon (a 12 inch rubber scale model of ken bates ) and jumped in the car. Having just turned the corner, caught sight of Tony Pulis hiding in the undergrowth with 2 colleagues. He caught sight of the 12 incher and wanted some of that for his trophy cabinet. Suddenly Pulis was attacked and was bought to the ground by a bunch of Stoke fans. The 2 friends helped him to his feet. At this point, the 2 were identified as clowntime and Mightywall **SHOCK HORROR**. All three jumped into a nearby car, hotwired it, and headed up the M1. Having had a fortunate escape from sheffield, they made a u turn and headed back down the M1 towards london, ditched the car, booked a room at the YMCA, where Mightywall (a builder) decided it was time to reinforce the building and use it as a hideout. There are plenty of questions to be answered !!!! What has happened to the pizza ? Where is Mick McCarthy Will Pulis ever get hold of the 12 inch rubber scale model of ken bates As Southampton and Leicester were not interested in continuing with this storyline, lets introduce Norwich and Newcastle) WELCOME... And now the story continuous...
Millwall Steve and TC (Lovely Geezer) finding out about Mighty's fling with clowntime went into a jealous rage and..................
I knew I shouldn't have had acid for breakfast. I got on the train this morning wearing gold lamé trousers with a pin stripe suit jacket and my tie wrapped round my head whilst inviting the other commuters to get down on it with me. I was tasered by the British Transport Police and woke up in a cell with some melty faced bloke calling himself Moomar or something. I reckoned it was ol Arry 'I'm a ****ing football manager' Redknapp but he didn't have any envelopes stuffed with cash on him so I didn't reveal my thoughts to him. Moomar and I managed to bust out of the joint using a trick he'd learnt from MacGyver where you unthread gold lamé trousers and tie each thread together to fashion a helicopter. As we flew over London he kept laughing and it was then I realised that I was naked on my desk at work; humping the fax machine in front of the CEO. Bad vibes and sore penis.
Meanwhile at his office at The Little Benton training ground, Alan Pardew finally closed the book. "Faaack," he thought, "I should've known." In many ways Alan already had known, a small nagging pinch hidden away in the furthest realms of his mind had always known. "Mary Facking Magdalene, she was shagging Jesus. Jesus Christ. Daniel Brown, you never...NEVER...cease to amaze me..." Slowly, unconciously, Alan's manicured fingers slipped below the leather confines of his tailored Newcastle United waistband. "Mary fackin' Magdalene...phwoar..." "ALAN?" the weasely, ****-filled whine of David Lambias cooing was enough to perturb even the most vehement of office-masturbators. "For fack sa....What David?" Alan's hand snapped back to the 'Del' key of his ergonomic keyboard, quickly stamping his forefinger over the matt black plastic so as to efficiently remove evidence of the stained-glass windows he'd been using for inspiration, "David will you come in already, I've got things to fackin do!" David entered the room, pausing momentarily to sniff the air, "Oooh, that would've been a good one Alan, sorry to disturb" running his toad-like tongue over yellowing, unbrushed teeth. "We've had the go-ahead Alan, its time to iniate: Plan D!" ...
...and saw what was happening before their eyes. Mightywall and Clivetime were liberally squirting each other with whipped cream and giggling maniacally to the sound of KC And The Sunshine Band. Mighty had turned from top boy to toy boy...
"how could you"? cried Steve, "after all I've done for you, I've laughed at and supported every post you've done and this is the way you repay me?" Throwing his handbag over his shoulder ..................................
...stumbled out onto the road, promptly getting run over by a taxi driver who'd been sent by Alan Pardew as part of 'Plan D' (or 'Plan Destruction'; a mission to annihilate all cockneys so that Pardew would be revered up North as some kind of lovable, endangered species). 200 miles away, Tony Pulis was amassing his meat-head forces including the likes of Ryan Shawcross, Abdoulaye Faye and Rory Delap, who had been instructed to take a long throw with a cannonball in an attempt to dislodge the Bates figurine from Clivetime's hands. Little did the Stokian forces know that...
Leeds18 and itsalongwayback met up in a boys bar had a swift cocktail kissed and cuddled each other goodbye and made their way home please log in to view this image
then Mighty woke up and turned to his left to see Clivetime fast asleep with a contented smile on his face, obviously he’d enjoyed the vigorous love making.
