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The Gangs of FFO
Nobody really knows what goes on behind the scenes of the rumoured gangs of the FFO, so for the historic records, we unearth some of the goings on…….
Deep in his lair based out in the garage Ed Clark, PSG supremo and high profile DA member sets up his laptop and prepares for action. He cracks his fingers, gets his gaming chair in the perfect spot and a slightly scary menacing grin takes over his face. It was time to create some Dark Arts mischief. Almost as soon as Clark logs on, up pops his co-conspirator Steve Talbot on a video call. Clark clicks the button to accept. The pair just nod at each other, and then Talbot clears his throat. “ Right then Eddie baby, time to talk about how we fuck things right up in the world of FFO - i have had a plan!!” Clark looked puzzled “ What is it Steve-O, do tell?”
“I’m going to shake things up in the Premiership and take on Chelsea. I’ll get them to sell me loads of my best players, and then you can dominate EFL. Meanwhile i will initiate operation Prem and takeover there. We will then be lords of the two elite leagues and no one will ever stop the DA! Hahahahaha!! “ Both of them tilted there heads back and laughed, maniacally for what seemed like minutes, before returning to gaze into their webcams.
” Oh i love it Steve-O. I have already designed 83 spreadsheets that show how many more shots are likely to grade the post on the way in to the goal in celebration, and i will pivot table the night away with this exciting news”
”Magic - well i will get to work on convincing the Chelsea manager to make the obvious move to Union Berlin, and I’ll do one of those spells on JB to just get the Chelsea job, and we’re away son! “ Talbot looked as smug as he had ever been at this point, until Clark piped up again
” So what to we do when we’ve conquered EFL and the Prem, who wins the European Cup and that?”
Talbot frowned “ We take it in turns with obvious tactical mistakes and horrendously complex coding that looks good but doesn’t really make that much difference. Then we dominate for years and years”
Clark smiled “ Ok that sounds magic. In the mean time I’ll wind everyone up by saying how uncompetitive EFL will be without you there”
Talbot blushed “ Oh Eddie you are the best! Let’s celebrate by just throwing around some tactical scenarios for an hour or two and get this plan formulated”
Meanwhile, in a boozer in North London, Darren Humphris sits in a quiet booth with Leeds manager Tim Davey, having a beer and an intense conversation. Humphris leans in even closer to Davey and growls “ Hey - have you seen the news about Talbot? He’s only coming to the facking Prem, innhe? To facking Chelsea” Davey looked surprised - “ Fack me that is a surprise mate, we don’t need none of that DA shit down here, do we - the Premiership is about straight shooters, none of that tactical magic nonsense!”
” I know” said Humphris, taking a large swig of his lager. “ It’s time to assemble” Davey knew what that meant. It was time to call the Manchester managers, Lovell and Outten, and Villa manager Ian Greaves to add some clout. Humphris took out his phone and got them both on FaceTime. “Right lads, time for us lot to stick together. We’ve got Talbot coming in to Chelsea, and i for one do not want to see him achieve substantial improvement. There’s only one thing for it - Greavesy - get over to the Bernabeu so we have a man over there.”
Ian Greaves looked confused, then answered “ Ok no problem - I’ve always fancied the gig anyway to be fair and i love to wind up Clarky whenever i get a chance so this is right up my street”
Humphris continued “Great stuff - and lets get Livi in on this too, he’s coming to Liverpool. The DA quest for domination can be snuffed out by our sensible, straightforward approach. Our time will come”
Back at Mission Control Commander Jon Banks sat at the main console with 25 screens around him and lights flashing on and off everywhere. All reminders to do various things to keep the FFO operation running smoothly. It was 2:30 am and his phone buzzed. It was his brother, Andy.
” Now then, you fucker” was the first thing he heard. “Alreet Drew boy what the fook do you want lad now then?”
“ Well actually i want a fooking fight our kid”
JB smiled “ Let’s fucking ave it then you soft shite”
In the back of the FFO command centre immediately a spotlight clunked on to reveal a full size wrestling ring all ready to go. JB slipped into his Lycra one piece and donned the mask to become his alter ego, wrestler El Bastardo. He somersaulted into the ring whilst his brother AB slid down a pole from the ceiling and fell off at the bottom. His costume was a kind of caveman type tribute, complete with prop ‘club’ which he swang through the air as he climbed through the ropes. The official referee for the night, Sam Bradwell stepped in to start the fight, and the brothers danced around each other beautifully until JB gave the ‘wink’ and AB took the fall “Cheers, your turn next week ya bastard” he said to his brother as he took the adulation of the recorded audience. They all recorded post ‘match’ interviews and then settled down for a beer and realised that it was 6 am.
”Fooking hell it’s time to upload and calculate about another 25 things for FFO since i started, best get on lad” said JB
”Ok soft lad, see you next week, nice one” said Andy as he left, his outfit squeaking as he walked out of the building.
What an interesting few weeks of FFO news. We’ll catch up with the gangs again and see what comes up over the next few months!! What will happen at Roma? How will the Ian Greaves secret mission go? Will Talbot take over the Prem? Will other new gangs develop?
Nobody really knows what goes on behind the scenes of the rumoured gangs of the FFO, so for the historic records, we unearth some of the goings on…….
Deep in his lair based out in the garage Ed Clark, PSG supremo and high profile DA member sets up his laptop and prepares for action. He cracks his fingers, gets his gaming chair in the perfect spot and a slightly scary menacing grin takes over his face. It was time to create some Dark Arts mischief. Almost as soon as Clark logs on, up pops his co-conspirator Steve Talbot on a video call. Clark clicks the button to accept. The pair just nod at each other, and then Talbot clears his throat. “ Right then Eddie baby, time to talk about how we fuck things right up in the world of FFO - i have had a plan!!” Clark looked puzzled “ What is it Steve-O, do tell?”
“I’m going to shake things up in the Premiership and take on Chelsea. I’ll get them to sell me loads of my best players, and then you can dominate EFL. Meanwhile i will initiate operation Prem and takeover there. We will then be lords of the two elite leagues and no one will ever stop the DA! Hahahahaha!! “ Both of them tilted there heads back and laughed, maniacally for what seemed like minutes, before returning to gaze into their webcams.
” Oh i love it Steve-O. I have already designed 83 spreadsheets that show how many more shots are likely to grade the post on the way in to the goal in celebration, and i will pivot table the night away with this exciting news”
”Magic - well i will get to work on convincing the Chelsea manager to make the obvious move to Union Berlin, and I’ll do one of those spells on JB to just get the Chelsea job, and we’re away son! “ Talbot looked as smug as he had ever been at this point, until Clark piped up again
” So what to we do when we’ve conquered EFL and the Prem, who wins the European Cup and that?”
Talbot frowned “ We take it in turns with obvious tactical mistakes and horrendously complex coding that looks good but doesn’t really make that much difference. Then we dominate for years and years”
Clark smiled “ Ok that sounds magic. In the mean time I’ll wind everyone up by saying how uncompetitive EFL will be without you there”
Talbot blushed “ Oh Eddie you are the best! Let’s celebrate by just throwing around some tactical scenarios for an hour or two and get this plan formulated”
Meanwhile, in a boozer in North London, Darren Humphris sits in a quiet booth with Leeds manager Tim Davey, having a beer and an intense conversation. Humphris leans in even closer to Davey and growls “ Hey - have you seen the news about Talbot? He’s only coming to the facking Prem, innhe? To facking Chelsea” Davey looked surprised - “ Fack me that is a surprise mate, we don’t need none of that DA shit down here, do we - the Premiership is about straight shooters, none of that tactical magic nonsense!”
” I know” said Humphris, taking a large swig of his lager. “ It’s time to assemble” Davey knew what that meant. It was time to call the Manchester managers, Lovell and Outten, and Villa manager Ian Greaves to add some clout. Humphris took out his phone and got them both on FaceTime. “Right lads, time for us lot to stick together. We’ve got Talbot coming in to Chelsea, and i for one do not want to see him achieve substantial improvement. There’s only one thing for it - Greavesy - get over to the Bernabeu so we have a man over there.”
Ian Greaves looked confused, then answered “ Ok no problem - I’ve always fancied the gig anyway to be fair and i love to wind up Clarky whenever i get a chance so this is right up my street”
Humphris continued “Great stuff - and lets get Livi in on this too, he’s coming to Liverpool. The DA quest for domination can be snuffed out by our sensible, straightforward approach. Our time will come”
Back at Mission Control Commander Jon Banks sat at the main console with 25 screens around him and lights flashing on and off everywhere. All reminders to do various things to keep the FFO operation running smoothly. It was 2:30 am and his phone buzzed. It was his brother, Andy.
” Now then, you fucker” was the first thing he heard. “Alreet Drew boy what the fook do you want lad now then?”
“ Well actually i want a fooking fight our kid”
JB smiled “ Let’s fucking ave it then you soft shite”
In the back of the FFO command centre immediately a spotlight clunked on to reveal a full size wrestling ring all ready to go. JB slipped into his Lycra one piece and donned the mask to become his alter ego, wrestler El Bastardo. He somersaulted into the ring whilst his brother AB slid down a pole from the ceiling and fell off at the bottom. His costume was a kind of caveman type tribute, complete with prop ‘club’ which he swang through the air as he climbed through the ropes. The official referee for the night, Sam Bradwell stepped in to start the fight, and the brothers danced around each other beautifully until JB gave the ‘wink’ and AB took the fall “Cheers, your turn next week ya bastard” he said to his brother as he took the adulation of the recorded audience. They all recorded post ‘match’ interviews and then settled down for a beer and realised that it was 6 am.
”Fooking hell it’s time to upload and calculate about another 25 things for FFO since i started, best get on lad” said JB
”Ok soft lad, see you next week, nice one” said Andy as he left, his outfit squeaking as he walked out of the building.
What an interesting few weeks of FFO news. We’ll catch up with the gangs again and see what comes up over the next few months!! What will happen at Roma? How will the Ian Greaves secret mission go? Will Talbot take over the Prem? Will other new gangs develop?
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