(A rainy afternoon story when I'm the only one awake!) Les had always thought of himself as a nice boy. He had always been nice to his mum and his gran, and they had always told him he had been a good boy and that only nice things happened to good boys. Les was skipping home one Sunday afternoon. He was feeling buoyant. The football team he looked after had just had its best season for years and many of the young stars were going off to the World Cup. As he approached his house a sinister looking stranger appeared. He barred Les's way. "Excuse me, please. I'm just going home to a nice cup of tea and homemade cake" "Not so fast, nice boy. My name is Dr PL and I'm going to take some of your toys before you go any further" Les threw out his manly chest. "Oh really? You and who else, big man. You'd better have friends" Dr PL summoned up the terrifying sight of Daniel Levy and Brendan Rogers and some Dutch bloke who Les thought he knew. "These are my friends, nice boy. Daniel wants your manager, that Pocca no, Pocchelli, anyway him." "No, no. He has a contract. It'll cost you £2m to get him, Levy you black hearted monster" Levy snorted. "Ha. £2m. That's loose change. Here, little boy. I'll claim it back from Mauricio over dinner. Farewell, loser" The Dutch bloke stepped forward. "I want Shaw and I want him now. Come on Dr PL, make it happen." Les watched in horror as his prize asset was swept up into a disgustingly large car and driven away. "That car will ruin the environment," blurted Les," and that young man has a contract." "Here, these suitcases full of money should help ease the pain of your loss. Now Brendan. It's your turn." The wicked Irishman emerged from the background clutching an SFC squad list. "Right, I'd like a number 5, a number 7 and a number 20 please. Hold the MSG, but I'll take some prawn crackers with that order and could you arrange delivery?" Now a small truck arrived and tipped cash at young Les's feet. The reality of his situation was overwhelming him. He looked at the money stacked on the pavement. "Dr PL. Maybe that wasn't too bad after all. With this money our new manager could buy a new team. I never did like Adam's beard; I could never understand Rickie and Luke was .. well, not the greatest conversationalist. I shan't comment on Dejan. He wasn't here long enough. As for Mauricio, his personal hairdresser was a bit weird." "No, you have got away lightly. young Les. But I have one more friend for you to meet. Step forward and be heard, friend" "Eh bien. Bonjour, Les. Ca va? Je voudrais parler de M Schneiderlin, et peut-etre M Chambers, svp. Ils voudraient peut-être se joindre à moi, oui?" (If anyone finds a plot could they PM me a copy. I've lost mine)
No, mate. It's mixing German beer and this board. I'm off under the duvet again until some good news appears. Feels like it could be a long wait.
