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It had been a quiet time in FFO land. After all of the drama with the Discord night club for lost souls shutting and then re-opening under the new management of Tony ‘The Geezer’ Ayres, the characters were finding their feet all over again.
Ayres was in the office of the club when he heard a knock on the front door. Waiting outside was Millwall manager Gary Windebank. “ Can I come in please?” He said “what’s the password?” Responded Ayres, dragging hard on his cigarette and blowing it into the outside air. “Ummm… Delia!”
“ You may enter” Ayre stood aside. “Ok lads, let’s go” shouted Windy and a whole army of schoolboy footballers appeared and ran into the club, looking for sweets. “Sorry, Tony it’s the youth lads, I’ve gone a bit more that way” “It’s fine, Gary, there’s a soft play area in the corner, let em knock themselves out”
Next at the door was a figure in a Darth Vader suit , and Ayre looked up in panic “Shit, shit i need to do the music” And he fired up the PA system to blast out the Darth Vader music. The figure took off his helmet to reveal - it was FFO supremo Jon Banks
”Now then lads” said Banks, let’s get them in. He produced his pet snake Casper from one of his many side compartments and took a seat at the control centre.
Before long, the room was full of FFO managers looking bleary eyed and confused after coming out of hibernation .
”Reet then lads, I’ve got a new fucking snake and he’s ready to projectile vomit on anyone who fucks me off”
”Ummm, can i just ask, i mean when you say ‘fucks me off’ i mean is that a general democratic decision, or is that just you making the decision, and when you say projectile how far exactly do you think it might travel and when you say vomit…”
PSG manager Ed Clark was cut short
”No no no no no we’ll have none of fooking that again please - my statement is clear, follow it to the letter and you’ll be fine pal” Banks interrupted
” It’s just from that sentence alone there are multiple outcomes that could all be captured on spreadsheets and i need to know where i am going.”
” All right lads, calm down” interjected Windy “Did i mention we’ve got Michael Owen over there in soft play, look at that ball control though”
Clark responded “Well it’s all down to you Gary - now you’ve published the wealthiest clubs list i have one goal and one only - i don’t care about league wins any more, i just want to be the richest club ever, so rich that young Michael will be begging me to sign him”
Windebank looked aghast “You stay away from little Micky, he’s mine”
”Anyway, enough of this nonsense” Banks took control again
”I have an unveiling” He clapped his hands and a door was lit up to the rear of the club. The light picked up the draped flags of Borussia Dortmund and a figure appeared in the shadows. He stepped forward to gasps.
”Fuck me it’s GS” Steve Talbot smiled - finally had they got the leader of the DA back to form a new alliance? Ed Clark stared in shock “Hello boys” he said “‘tis I, Garysean Wilson, and i have come to take over FFO, ahemm no i mean and i am a changed man and have come to do good things only”
Talbot and Clark looked hopefully towards Wilson but he seemed to blank them, quashing rumours of the DA reunion.
JB’s phone was ringing and he picked it up. All that could be heard by the rest was wailing down the phone, as he held it away from his ear. He pressed the red button and looked up
”Reet, fuck it , who wants Juve?” GS looked a little irritated “But.. i ‘ve just taken Dort..” “Hey, yeah, I’ll take the black and white dudes” interjected Tony Ayres, who somehow had immediately changed into a Mafia boss outfit to look the part. “OK, that’s that then”
Suddenly another door lit up - this time draped in Palace colours - and from the shadows emerged Rob Brunton
”Who the fuck is he?” The managers mumbled
”Oh don’t worry lads” piped up Spurs boss Tim Brown “You’ll see!” And he nodded to Brunton and Banks. The managers quickly were looking up Brunton on their phones and a collective ‘ahh, i see’ fell across the room as they realised the success that this man had achieved.
By this time Wilson had already signed his first 10 players for Dortmund, giving him an opening squad of 78 to cover the injuries and expected suspensions.
“So there we are, all announcements over” said Banks, as he prepared to leave. Any more stupid questions, twattish behaviours or criticism of any nice new stuff, Casper is locked and loaded” The snake vomited to order, leaving a huge dollop of green sick that landed directly between the Chelsea and PSG section of the club. “Looks like that’s your fucking answer Ed - analyse that distance and vomit consistency mate”
And with that he donned the Vader helmet and marched out of the club. He stopped at the door “Tony will you get the fooking music sorted please, I’ve nothing to work with otherwise - get it on remote or something for fooks sake” the music started blaring “Too fooking late, Jesus” he turned on his heel and left. “Sorry boss” said Ayre. “Ok, boys let’s party” and the club changed into a party zone, Kirby and Bridgey hastily knocking up a quick transfer stall, Wilson doing endless deals to bring players to the club then sell them to Saudi Arabia, Clark furiously tapping on a laptop in a booth, and a rather intense looking meeting between Darren Humphris and Tim Davey in the VIP area going on - who knows what will develop next???