I'm The Top Drog (Short Story)

The chant repeated from the same end of Upton Park, over and over again. And that end was where Stuart’s fans were sat as well – the chants coming from the rest of the stadium simply wouldn’t be appropriate to mention!

It was the 85th minute, and West Ham’s Luis Jimenez had just scored an equaliser for his team, cancelling out Michael Ballack’s 55th minute screamer from outside the area. Since the German’s 5th goal of the season, Stuart Kneedy’s team had controlled the game for once. It had begun to look like Chelsea might just go on and take their 4th league win in 8 games.

Since losing the Community Shield game against Man U, Chelsea had gone on to drop points against Burnley, Tottenham, Wolves and Bolton unimpressively all within a month of the Premier League restarting for the 09/10 campaign. In fact, from the first month of Premiership games, all that Stuart had to present to the Chelsea faithful and the Chelsea Board was a 4-0 victory over Everton – and that didn’t count for much when it was stood in the shadow of the other 4 games.

Just under 3 Premier League games on, things looked a little better. A 2-0 victory over Man U and a 3-0 triumph over Stoke had bought the young manager some time, but not much of it. Now though, just as things seemed to be improving, Chelsea had been pegged back to 1-1 by West Ham with just a few minutes remaining and none of the players in blue looked like they were about to step up and be counted.

It wasn’t even a weakened team either. Lampard was out there (even though this was his return match after being hit by a slight injury), Essien was there, Terry was there, Drogba was there, Cech was there and even the new boy Dzeco was out on the pitch. But none of them were producing the goods.

Stuart Kneedy turned back to look at his bench. He saw Lampard slouched down in his seat with a sour look on his face. He’d been forced off due to low fitness levels thanks to his recent injury, and his mood wasn’t made any better by the chants coming from the West Ham stands.

Beside him, our best performer of the day could be found. Michael Ballack was another one who wasn’t at full fitness and had been forced off. Perhaps Stuart should have left him on the pitch, despite his low fitness level. It was too late now, and he was sure that the papers would pick him up on it tomorrow morning anyway.

Stuart turned back to the pitch, looked up at the sky and rubbed his hand across the stubble on his chin. His thoughts then wandered across to the call he’d received from Roman Abromovich the day before. ‘We need results, Stuart - quickly!’ the Russian had spat down the phone.

“F*ck it. F*ck it all – Obi, chase back! Bloody useless tw*t!” screamed Stuart. West Ham broke towards the Chelsea goal for what had seemed like just the second time in the whole match. Diamante flicked the ball over Terry’s lunging leg and into the path of Dean Ashton. Beside Stuart, Gianfranco Zola leapt from his bench and began jumping up and down on the touchline, screaming for the Englishman to finish the chance against his beloved Chelsea.

Ashton’s drilled shot was saved by Cech and deflected out for a corner kick to West Ham. Once again, the points seemed to be slipping away from Stuart and there was nothing he could do, except watch in anger.

Stuart looked across at the Chelsea fans. Most of them were nervously watching West Ham line up for the corner kick, but some of them found the time to point at Stuart before curling their hands into a loosely-clenched fist and shaking it from side to side or putting up a V-sign. Stuart could just tell by this massive vote of confidence that the fans were on his side.

Once again, the Chelsea manager turned back to the pitch to see John Terry and Petr Cech organising the players to get the corner kick clear from the Chelsea goal.

The cross came across and Cech came off his line, flapping his hands in an attempt to catch the ball and jumping into West Ham’s Matthew Upson, trying to win himself a free-kick as the ball floated overhead.

Ashton bundled the ball into the net and turned to the ref to see if he’d given the goal. To Ashton’s disgust and Stuarts’ surprise, the referee signalled for a free kick to Chelsea, stating that Upson had prevented Cech from plucking the ball out of the sky.

Even with a step-ladder, Cech wouldn’t have plucked that cross from the sky. It was probably the referee’s way of sympathising with Stuart, and he didn’t appreciate it. If referees were leaning slightly to the Chelsea manager’s way, he knew things were bad.

It was only Chelsea’s win against Man U 2 games ago that had seen Chelsea rise from 13th in the league after 6 games and even though that wasn’t the worst that any manager had ever performed; it wasn’t good enough for Chelsea’s expectant owner and their success-hungry fans.

It also wasn’t seen as good enough by some of the Chelsea players, and that really was a bad sign. Nicolas Anelka had been the most blatant, barely talking to the young manager and giving him dirty, darting looks after every instruction given from the manager to the Nomadic forward.

The whistle eventually blew, and Stuart shook hands with Zola before disappearing down the tunnel, away from the booing, jeering Chelsea supporters. Then, the managers’ phone went off with Mr Abramovich’s name lighting up across the screen. Kneedy took a deep breath before answering the phone. He feared for his job.

Played on FM10, latest Steam version as of 5/11/09 with the default database

Any Chelsea story is a good story.

Top-class matchwriting, Offspring. Love it.

Thanks Spav - and I must agree with you there's not enough of them around here!

I'm glad it pleases, 10-3 after reading the work of so many great writers around here, it's hard not to write at a decent level!

16/10/2009

The international break had finished and all of the players had returned to their clubs. On the 17th of November, Chelsea were due to face Birmingham for the first time since The Blues drew 1-1 with their rivals, West Ham at Upton Park.

17/10/09 – Birmingham Vs. Chelsea

21/10/09 – Besiktas Vs. Chelsea (CL Grps)

24/10/09 – Chelsea Vs. Sunderland

28/10/09 – Chelsea Vs. Reading (LC 4th Rnd)

31/10/09 – Wigan Vs. Chelsea

3/11/09 – Chelsea Vs. Besiktas (CL Grps)

7/11/09 – Chelsea Vs. Arsenal

“Do you understand the pressure on me?” Stuart said, looking out of his office window. The sun was out and it was clear skies, but the same could not be said of Chelsea’s situation. The Chelsea manager had called his skipper and vice-captain to his office for a private meeting.

“Yes, boss,” answered John Terry, nodding. The Barking-born defender had a lot of sympathy for his manager. He’d never seen anybody put under so much pressure after such a short time in the job, and it wasn’t even his fault. Terry took a lot of the blame himself – he was playing nowhere near up to scratch and he knew he risked being dropped.

Stuart turned to face two players who he knew he had the support of. Frank Lampard and John Terry had defended their manager at every opportunity and Stuart was grateful. But he couldn’t keep his job just by having 2 players on his side, no matter how big those players are.

“I don’t think you do, John. I’ve already got Mr Abramovich breathing down my neck, the fans don’t like me and the media are baying for blood to be shed early in the season. It’s crazy and I need some help,” answered Stuart. He pulled his chair out from under the desk and sat down opposite the two players.

“John, Frank; I need the two of you to organise a team meeting – just between the players. Do it today. There will be no staff there, I just want each player to say his piece, discuss what you all think is going wrong and come back to me with the answer. If you can get one.”

17/10/2009

Birmingham Vs. Chelsea

“Get in there, Didi!” Stuart screamed, punching the air. Didier Drogba had scored a fantastic volley from 25 yards out to put his team ahead in just the second minute and it was evident that the team meeting had paid off. The players were up for the game and when Didier is up for something, he normally gets his way.

Stuart had told the big striker that he could single-handedly keep his manager in a job if he performed well and the striker seemed to like the responsibility and the attention. As the big guy celebrated with his team mates, Stuart looked to the Chelsea fans. They were happy, if only for now.

A minute and a half later, the frame of the goal was left rattling thanks to a Michael Ballack free-kick from the edge of the ‘D’. The strong midfielder had been in good form, playing just behind the front pairing of Drogba and Dzeco, with Lampard, Essien and Marek Hamsik sat in just behind him and giving him the licence to spearhead an attacking midfield force.

The Chelsea midfield wasn’t needed for the second goal though, as a defensive error gifted Edin Dzeco the ball just inside the penalty area. The big forward composed himself before chipping the ball into the top corner of the net to make it 2-0 after 15 minutes.

Stuart celebrated once more and he could almost feel the weight slipping from his shoulders. 3 points for Chelsea today was needed against Birmingham and it was (quite rightly) expected. Anything less and Stuart Kneedy would see to it himself that he was no longer Chelsea manager. He’d arrived under controversial circumstances, and it would definitely be controversial to resign after such a low amount of games.

Soon, though, resignation became a serious threat to Stuart as Birmingham managed to pull a goal back just before half-time. After making a save from Barry Ferguson’s close range shot, Petr Cech could only deflect the ball into the path of James McFadden, who slipped the ball into an empty net from an angle.

“We always make it difficult for ourselves, don’t we?” said Ray Wilkins. Stuart Kneedy said nothing in reply. Wilkins simply shook his head, looked to the floor and returned to the bench. Somebody needed to help the under-pressure manager. Chelsea were still winning, but you couldn’t be sure whether or not they could hold onto it.

The red card was lifted into the air by the referee and it came as no surprise to Stuart Kneedy. Essien had flew in with two feet and floored Birmingham’s Stuart Parnaby and Kneedy knew the result before the ref had even reacted. Chelsea had half an hour to play and only 10 men on the pitch with a 1 goal lead.

The Chelsea manager turned to his bench. Warming it, he saw John Terry. The captain was underperforming and Stuart had risked his job by leaving him out of the starting 11, but he hoped it would pay off. That in itself was an excuse to receive the sack, even though Terry understood it himself.

Beside Terry was John Obi Mikel. He was the man who walked onto the pitch, and Marek Hamsik came off to take his place on the bench.

The last half hour wore on and Cech found himself with nothing to do. If anything, Chelsea pressed on even more and Dzeco was denied in extra time by a good save from Birmingham’s Maik Taylor. And that’s how it finished; Chelsea dragged the 3 points back to London.

Stuart waited until the whole team was back on the coach. When he was alone, the manager reached into his bag and pulled out his anti-depressants. He needed a few right now just to keep him sane.

21/10/2009

Besiktas (3rd) Vs. Chelsea (1st) – Champ. League Group B Game 3

Petr Cech

Jose Bosingwa

Ashley Cole

Alex

Branislav Ivanovic

Marek Hamsik

Michael Essien

Frank Lampard ©

Michael Ballack

Edin Dzeco

Nicolas Anelka

Halftime score – 0-0. Chelsea Dressing Room:

“Alright, what’s happening? We’ve been doing well in Europe so far, we’ve just come off the back of a win in Birmingham and we’re lucky not to be behind here in Istanbul.”

Stuart Kneedy looked around at his sorry bunch of superstars. His team weren’t playing well and it was only due to Besiktas' lack of ruthlessness that the score was still level.

Stuart then proceeded to give second half instructions. Essien needed to be stronger and get himself into the game. Lampard needed to find space for himself to try and get into a goal scoring position. Besiktas were playing their lines so close, it was hard to see where the defensive line began and the forward line ended – it was like playing a ‘back 9’ with one guy chasing the clearances. Kneedy gave his midfield instructions to sit deeper and try to draw Besiktas’ midfield line away from their defensive line to create some space in between the two for Lampard to exploit.

Then, as the teams went back out onto the field, Kneedy grabbed Anelka’s arm and motioned for him to come back into the dressing room. Anelka sat down and Kneedy closed the door behind him so that nobody would interrupt.

“Nicolas, I don’t know what the problem is but I need you on my side. Your effort levels have been nowhere near acceptable – why?”

“I wouldn’t even be playing if Didier wasn’t banned. Why should I make any effort for a manager that doesn’t value me?” replied the Frenchman.

“That’s true, but that’s because both Didi and Edin have put more effort in during games and they have shown hunger and a good attitude through training. Prove to me that you deserve your place in this team and you’ll be rewarded.”

Anelka stayed sat on the bench, looking down at the floor and not saying a word for what must have been a full minute. Finally, he slowly rose from his seat and walked towards his manager.

“I have nothing to prove to you, Mr Kneedy,” said Anelka, brushing shoulders with Stuart as he passed him to get out onto the pitch. The manager was left in the changing room by himself, with the sound of the cheering crowd resonating dully in the background.

“Oh, you do. And it’s not just your neck on the line.”

“That’s better, boys!”

Hamsik celebrated his goal with Michael Essien. 5 minutes of the second half hadn’t even been played and Chelsea were 1-0 up thanks to a tap-in from the summer signing. Once Stuart finished celebrating, he looked down the sidelines to see if Eduardo Salvio had finished warming up yet. The 19 year old was another young, new signing at the bridge, arriving from Argentinian team Lanus for £4M.

“Come on, Eduardo! Finish up, son!” Stuart called as Besiktas put the ball back in the center circle to restart the game.

Eventually, the youngster finished his warm-up and the fourth official signalled for number 44 to take the place of number 39. Anelka stood with his hands on his hips for a few seconds before slowly trotting towards the sideline and clapping his young replacement on the back.

“You do have something to prove, and you will respect me,” Stuart whispered to his striker. Anelka said nothing in return, simply sitting back in his seat with an unreadable expression on his face.

Chelsea grew stronger and stronger though and it came as no surprise that they finished with 3 goals: 1 from the captain Frank Lampard, who managed to exploit the new space awarded to him. The other came from Eduardo Salvio, who finished a well constructed move which he played as much a part of creating as he did finishing. The only downside? Besiktas caught Kneedy’s team unawares late on and managed to pull one goal back. But it wasn’t enough to stop Chelsea from stringing two wins together for only the second time in the season.

Besiktas 1-3 Chelsea (Hamsik, Frank Lampard, Eduardo Salvio)

22/10/2009

Rays of dispersed sunlight stumbled through the half-opened blinds and into the office of Stuart Kneedy. Kneedy was sat down at his desk, opposite Nicolas Anelka who was pacing the room on the other side of it.

“I just don’t see why you took me off – I need to be given a chance!” Nicolas Anelka fumed. It was easy to see that he was unhappy at being replaced in just the 50th minute of the last game, and that was understandable.

“You don’t have the correct attitude to play right now, Nicolas,” Stuart answered, shrugging his shoulders and sitting back in his chair.

“This is my attitude – if you don’t like it, sell me!” replied Anelka, slamming his clenched fist down on the desk.

“I have no intention of selling you – in fact, you are very much a part of my first-team plans if we can get you into the right frame of mind. I’m not selling you.”

Stuart took off his glasses and nibbled on one end of them. He was trying to remain as calm as possible, but he was in no mood to tolerate a whinging prima-donna. The board, papers and fans were still onto him and he had work to do.

“Fine. I will continue here at Chelsea, for now. But if the opportunity arises for me to aid in getting you the sack, don’t be surprised if I throw my full weight behind it. I don’t like you, and I don’t want you here.”

After Anelka finished his words, he stomped out of the office and sent something in the corridor flying through the air and into the wall. Probably that water machine stood outside the door. Bloody French.

Starting to get things sorted now, Offy.

Excellent read so far

Indeed - at least, it looked that way Spav

Greenjonty, well come to the story and a personal welcome to FMS from me I hope you enjoy it - both the story, and the forum

24/10/2009

Chelsea (6th) Vs. Sunderland (13th) – EPL Game 10

“What is wrong with this man? We take the lead early in the game yet we cannot capitalise and kill the game off!” said Roman Abramovich to one of his friends. He got no reply from the man sat beside him, but he didn’t expect one.

Chelsea had taken the lead in the 20th minute through Didier Drogba, who struck a 25 yard half-volley into the top corner at blistering speed.

And, despite Chelsea having had over 20 shots by the 80th minute, the score still stood at 1-0 to Chelsea and the fans were beginning to fear their team being punished for being so wasteful in front of goal.

Then, Sunderland’s Andy Reid broke down the left wing, skinning his marker before crossing to the back post from deep. In the box, Ivanovic and Kenwyne Jones were jostling for pole position to get their head to the ball. Jones was the one who won the battle, and he headed home from just a few yards out.

Abramovich thumped the arm of his plush chair, spitting various Russian curses at Sunderland, his team and his manager.

“How have we failed to hold onto that win? How?!?” Abramovich roared, striding right to the front of his executive box.

The Sunderland players celebrated below the Chelsea chairmain, ecstatic that they had equalised so late on in the game. Once again, Stuart Kneedy’s ability to manage was questioned and Mr Abramovich seriously considered sacking the young manager. The Chelsea owner wasn’t renowned for giving managers time, but he had vowed to give this one time when he gave Kneedy the job. Now, he regretted making that vow.

But the game wasn’t over just yet. There was still plenty of time for jobs to be saved and heroes to be made.

And when Alex lumped the ball forward to Drogba, hope was injected into the veins of the fans, the manager and the chairman alike. Drogba brought the ball down in the area with his right foot, and Stuart Kneedy looked up at the clock. 91 minutes had been played – 3 minutes were left.

Drogba cut inside onto his right foot before letting loose a stinging shot. The shot never reached the goal though, as Nyron Nosworthy threw himself in front of the close range shot, crushing the hopes of all of the home fans.

Within seconds though, ex-Chelsea midfielder Deco had control of the ball for Sunderland just inside Chelsea’s half. Ahead of him, Andy Reid jerked inside from the left wing and managed to pull free from the Chelsea defence just as Deco played a perfectly-timed pass. Then, Reid completed the unthinkable. After taking one touch to control the pass, Andy Reid hit a hard shot along the ground and into the far bottom corner of the net, scoring what would turn out to be the winner for Sunderland in the 92nd minute.

Abramovich made no immediate reaction, simply resting his head on one hand. After a few seconds of hearing the faint cheers coming from the Sunderland fans in Stamford Bridge, the chairman rose quickly from his chair, kicking the table in front of him and spitting on the window of the executive box before storming out of the room and slamming the door behind him.

Stuart Kneedy sat down in his office at home, rubbing his middle finger and thumb on his temples as he held the phone to his ear with his other hand.

“I understand, Mr Abromovich. I assure you it’s just a blip,” said the Chelsea manager.

“A blip? This has been the worst start I’ve ever seen anyone make during my time as chairman!”

“I will get it sorted. You will see an improvement in the next few games, I swear.”

A short silence then followed, and Stuart could hear Roman Abramovich taking a few deep breaths on the other end of the phone line.

“I’m not bothered about the League Cup. You should beat Reading. But if you lose to Wigan in the next league game, don’t return to Chelsea Football Club the next day. Consider yourself sacked immediately if you lose to Wigan in a weeks’ time,” answered the chairman.

And then, before Stuart could answer, he was gone. So there it was; after weeks of speculation, poor performances and player complaints, Stuart’s job was on the line. And in a strange way, it was a relief to the manager. He wasn’t worried about anymore daggers that might come flying from the dark and slip into his back. He knew what he had to do to survive and keep his job.

26/10/2009

Nicolas Anelka sat down in the club canteen to start on his lunch for the day. The training had been hard as Stuart Kneedy demanded more and more from his players. The players had also been split into groups – the younger team had been taken by Ray Wilkins. He was preparing his group for the League Cup match against Reading.

They weren’t all young though. There were a few experienced players lining up just to add balance, and Nicolas was one of them. The others were Alex, Ivanovic and Paulo Ferreira (recently returned from a long-term injury).

In the other group, key players like Drogba, Lampard, Terry, Ballack etc. were being prepared by Stuart for the League match against Wigan. It was a bittersweet feeling for Anelka – on the one hand, he’d been left out of the ‘Elite’ group of players that were preparing with the manager. On the other hand, he had a chance to bag a few goals against Reading and, in turn, almost force his manager to pick him in the starting lineup.

Then Anelka’s phone went off, interrupting his thoughts. It was Roman Abramovich. Anelka answered the call and put the phone to his ear.

“Nicolas, good morning. I understand you have some problems with the manager?

“Good morning, Mr. Abramovich. And yes, I do.”

“Well don’t worry about it. He might not be here for much longer.”

A sly smile then crossed Anelka's face. Kneedy's time was nearing an end.

Awesome read, loving the story and I am confident you will beat Wigan. Had been thinking about writing a story myself but not sure if I can match this level of writing!

Welcome to the story, Jack in normal circumstances, I too would be confident that Chelsea could beat Wigan. But looked what happened just a few weeks ago irl. And this Chelsea side aren't exactly in-form either, so it could go either way!

As for your own writing, go ahead and get started on something if you want to! Just enjoy your own writing and everybody here will enjoy it as well. Don't worry about anything, most of us are nice :p

28/10/2009

Chelsea (PL) Vs. Reading (CH) – League Cup 4th Round

R Turnbull (GK)

S Hutchinson (DR)

B Ivanovic (DC)

Alex (DC) – ©

P Ferreira (DL)

E Salvio (MR)

J Obi Mikel (MC)

Gokhan Tore (ML)

A Dzagoev (AMC)

V Kadlec (ST)

N Anelka (ST)

The Chelsea fans were expecting a comfortable victory; the Board wanted an emphatic one; and the players were looking to impress. With only Alex and Ivanovic having featured regularly in the first team thus far, Stuart had hoped that this team would show hunger and want to impress everybody.

In actual fact though, it was Reading who were looking to impress. Straight from the start the away team won a corner. The kick fell to Gunnarsson just outside of the 6 yard box, and the Reading man wasted no time in testing Turnbull’s goalkeeping skills. Turnbull was equal to the side-footed shot, turning it out for a second corner to Reading and saving Chelsea from an early embarrassment. It wasn’t the start that Stuart had hoped for.

As time wore on though, Chelsea began to settle and both Tore and Dzagoev began to shine. The youngsters combined well to release Tore down the left wing, and his low cross into the 6 yard box was right on the money. It found the boot of Vaclav Kadlec, who netted his first goal for Chelsea.

Well, it had seemed like he had until the linesman flagged for offside. Later replays proved that Kadlec had, in fact, been way on side and the linesman had got it wrong. It could be a costly error, as far as Stuart Kneedy is concerned. It could cost him his job.

Despite the disallowed goal, Chelsea continued to press on with an impressive display of one-touch football, overseen by Dzagoev. The former CSKA player was impressing and, some might say, living up to his mantle as Frank Lampard’s successor. He was repeatedly setting the wide players free with good through-balls, and the result was that Chelsea had won 9 corners by the time the half was over. It ended 0-0 after more sustained pressure from the home side.

Each player sat in the dressing room was soaked to the bone. The rain had poured down and it was showing no mercy, only becoming increasingly worse. Every player sat, taking deep breaths to try and recover for the second half - Every player except Anelka. He didn’t tired in the slightest, and he’d been the anonymous man in the first half. This time, Stuart decided to confront him in front of the players.

“I’m happy with the efforts from everyone,” he began. “Except you,” said Stuart, turning and pointing at Anelka.

“There’s no effort from you and it’s not fair on the rest of the team. You’re letting everybody down – the fans, these players, everybody. I want to see an improvement, otherwise you’ll find yourself back on that bench,” Stuart said. Anelka didn’t look up once. Instead, he was concentrating on changing his boots to accommodate the weather conditions. He’d heard his manager; he was just trying to wind him up.

“And Reading have scored here at Stamford Bridge to take the lead! It’s Grzegorz Rasiak with the strike from outside the area to put the away team ahead, and Stuart Kneedy will now have even more of a reason to be unhappy with the offside ruling in the first half!”

As the Reading team celebrated their goal, Stuart hid his head in his hands. Once again, Chelsea had been pinned back.

After 15 minutes of the first half, Stuart decided to change his team and bring on some of the big guns. So, 5 minutes after going a goal behind, Ivanovic, Salvio and Anelka all came off to be replaced by John Terry, Joe Cole and Didier Drogba in an attempt by Stuart Kneedy to salvage a win.

Reading defended bravely though, batting off every desperate attempt that Chelsea could muster. And once again, Stuart Kneedy’s bad luck shone through. In the 70th minute, Drogba went down from a tackle made by Alex Pearce inside the Reading penalty area.

The referee decided against the spot kick and, once again, later replays showed that Chelsea were hard done-by and should have had the penalty.

“The Kneedy way isn’t the easy way. That’s what my dad used to say,” Stuart said, turning to Ray Wilkins.

The minutes ticked past and Stuarts’ time as Chelsea manager was nearing an end. With 10 minutes left on the clock, Didier Drogba won an aerial battle inside the Reading half to head the ball to Gokhan Tore. Tore then fed the ball back to Drogba, who had worked his way forward to the edge of the area. With his back to goal, the talismanic striker let the ball run between his legs before flicking it inside, into the path of Alan Dzagoev.

From almost 30 yards out, Dzagoev released a curling shot, which started just outside the post before spinning inside and into the back of the net. With less than 10 minutes remaining, Dzagoev had levelled the game and Stuart went crazy.

But he needed more. And as Chelsea rushed forward in search of a winner, Stuart knew that the only 2 men capable of getting him one was Dzagoev and Drogba. So he was finally in luck when Dzagoev threaded a ball between the two centre backs, finding Drogba inside the area, 1 on 1 with Reading’s ‘keeper.

Chelsea’s progression in the cup hinged on this moment, Stuart Kneedy’s future hinged on this moment, and the ground fell silent, awaiting the execution from Didier Drogba.

The ball fizzed along the ground and into the corner of the net, resulting in everybody going wild and Drogba tearing away to celebrate with his manager. Chelsea had pulled the game back in the last 10 minutes, possibly saving the game. It had been harder than expected, but they’d done it.

After the final whistle went, Stuart looked to his phone whilst a couple of boo’s echoed around him. Sure enough, Abramovich’s name flashed onto the screen and Stuart readied himself for another barrage of abuse.

Chelsea 2-1 Reading (Alan Dzagoev 83rd minute, Didier Drogba 87th minute)

15/2/1992

Henry Kneedy coughed more blood up into the cardboard bowl given to him by the nurses. He’d been told that he didn’t have much time left, and his son hadn’t left his hospital bed since. It had taken its toll as well: Stuart had begun to look thinner and dark rings were developing around his eyes, accompanied with bags underneath his eyes. He was supposed to be a fit, young football coach but instead he was a thinning, nervous wreck.

“I’m sorry dad. I’ve asked hundreds of times if there’s any way they can make you more comfortable but they say there isn’t,” the son said to his coughing father.

“It’s ok mate, I’ll manage. Remember, the Kneedy way is never the easy way. That’s what my father used to say.”

Henry looked at his son. He’d done his best by his only child. After the tragic death of his wife, he’d brought Stuart up as best he could. He’d helped Stuart get over the death of his mother through football, and that was how he lived his life now.

Despite Henry being a Manchester United fan, Stuart had fallen for Nottingham. Eventually, Stuart had hoped to manage his team and Henry had high hopes for his son. He was a good manager and he’d just been offered the manager’s position at Swindon Town, such was his reputation.

“Stuart, promise me you’ll take that Swindon job?” Henry said quietly to his son. Stuart looked up at the older man. There was worry in his eyes, and it was a look that Stuart wouldn’t forget. Previously, he’d been reluctant to take the job. Stuart wasn’t confident in his own abilities and he didn’t want his big start to go horribly wrong. However, Henry had persistently pushed Stuart to accept the job, and it looked like he had no choice now.

“Okay dad, I’ll take it. I’m just worried that I won’t do well and I’ll spread dirt on the family name.”

“Don’t worry about that. Just do the best you can do and that’s all anybody can ask. Remember this, my son; no matter what anybody says, no matter how many people doubt you, always be sure of yourself. Force success, and you’ll be a winner.”

31/10/2009

Wigan (8th) Vs. Chelsea (7th) – EPL Game 11

“We need to pull together. There are many people doubting us, but we can put this season back on track – starting today,” Stuart said to his team. “No matter how many people doubt you, you have to believe in yourselves. Force success, and we’ll come out on top.”

P Cech (GK)

J Bosingwa (DR)

Alex (DC)

J Terry (DC) – ©

A Cole (DL)

M Hamsik (MC)

J Obi Mikel (MC – Essien missing through suspension)

F Lampard (MC)

M Ballack (AMC)

E Dzeko (ST)

D Drogba (ST)

Would this be the last time that Stuart would walk out as manager of Chelsea? Would that be the last pre-match team talk he’d give for a premier league team? Stuart didn’t know, but he was about to find out. He’d never been so nervous in his life, and he needed big performances from all of his players today.

And it started positively. Frank Lampard was the one who got the ball rolling in the right direction. After Drogba had fed a ball through to Dzeko who became free in the area, the £20M summer signing rounded on goal before pulling off an unexpected back flick to set Frank Lampard up for another goal.

From then on, things went well for the London-based team. Despite being the visitors, Chelsea played like the home team and controlled the ball, resulting in just one first-half shot from Wigan. However, Stuart Kneedy decided not to rest on his luck. He knew more goals were needed if his job was to be completely safe.

In the second half, Chelsea made another good start. Michael Ballack collected the ball on the edge of the Wigan area before firing off a low shot. It was saved fairly comfortably by Kirkland, but it was another effort on goal. Seconds later, Ballack put a shot on the end of a long spell on two-touch football by Chelsea, but it was again saved by Kirkland.

Then it was Wigan’s turn. N’Zogbia broke down the left wing, beating Bosingwa with his raw pace. He reached the ball at the byline and crossed first time to find Jordi Gomez, but he could only head the ball right at Cech as the score remained at 0-1 to Chelsea.

Then came the killer 10 minutes.

After replacing John Obi Mikel with Alan Dzagoev in an attempt to find another goal, the Russian international found Frank Lampard in an advanced position down the left flank. Lampard cut back inside onto his right foot before swinging in a high cross towards Didier Drogba. As was expected, Drogba climbed and met the cross from a few yards out, and as the ball settled in the back of the net, Stuart Kneedy celebrated with Ray Wilkins. That goal had sealed it; Stuarts’ job was safe, he was sure of it.

5 minutes later, Drogba once again increased Kneedy’s confidence. Marek Hamsik found the Ivorian with a pass along the ground, splitting the Wigan centre backs in the process and putting the in-form frontman through 1 on 1 with Chris Kirkland.

From the edge of the area, Drogba took his shot early. He put all of his power into it, sending a rocket into the top corner before wheeling away towards his manager again. He knew as well as anyone that this victory had saved Stuart Kneedy’s job.

After the final whistle had blown, Stuart shook hands with Roberto Martinez before making his way back to the changing room.

“Today, we performed as we should have. We played like champions and we forced our own success, suffocating this team in front of their own fans,” Stuart said to his players. As he paused, John Terry and a few others gave a quick whoop and a clap.

“I’m sure you all knew that my job was on the line at the beginning of today. Now though, I am safe and I have you guys to thank for it. Thank you all.”

After leaving the changing room, Stuart quickly checked his phone. For once, Abramovich’s name wasn’t printed across the screen. Stuart breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps it had all turned around now. Perhaps it was all downhill from here.

Perhaps.

“But you said that if I beat Wigan then my job-”

“I never said that. I said that if you lose to Wigan, you’d be sacked. I never said anything about your job being safe,” said Roman Abramovich, interrupting Stuart Kneedy.

“Then what do I have to do to secure my future at this club?” Stuart asked.

“Our next two games are against Besiktas and Arsenal. I expect you to win both, then your job will be safe. Lose either, and you’ll be sacked.”

The phone then went dead and Stuart felt like he had it all to do again. Was he even good enough to manage at the top level? He wasn’t sure. And no matter how many times he asked himself, he couldn’t find an answer.

“Nicolas, there has been plenty of speculation about your relationship with your manager, Stuart Kneedy. How do you feel, knowing that his job is on the line?” One reporter asked.

“Well the club needs to move forward. If we are not moving forward, then things have to be changed – that’s how things work in football. If the progress isn’t good enough for a club like Chelsea, there needs to be changes,” said Anelka, smiling. A click of pens could then be heard as the reporters began to ponder on the headlines of how best to display that one of Stuart Kneedy’s own players thought he deserved to be sacked.

“So, Nicolas, are you saying that Stuart Kneedy should be sacked?”

Anelka paused for a moment. He knew that if he went ahead and said what he thought, he might never see a Chelsea shirt again. But then he thought back to Ambramovich’s words. He’d told the striker that Kneedy’s job would be on the line for the next two games and that if he delivered anything less than 6 points, he’d be sacked. The Besiktas game was hard enough, but with Arsenal thrown in there as well, it wasn’t looking to good for Kneedy.

“Well, if a player does not perform, he gets dropped. Why should it be any different for a manager?”

3/11/2009

Stuart was able to field his strongest team for the Besiktas game, and for that he was thankful. And Anelka was there as well, warming the bench once again. Some may have seen that as a surprise following his recent comments to the media, but Kneedy had no other option.

Anelka’s words had created a tornado of rumours and headlines which was ripping across the nation. Despite the rumours on who had fallen out with whom, which players disliked each other and who had been lined up to replace him, Stuart got on with his work, dragging his team along behind him. They would win these games come hell or fire, Stuart had vowed to himself.

And as I was saying, Stuart had no other realistic option for back-up upfront. Daniel Sturridge was out for almost a year with knee cartilage damage and Kadlec wasn’t up to the correct level. In Anelka, Kneedy had someone who could score – even if he didn’t particularly want to.

P Cech (GK)

J Bosingwa (DR)

Alex (DC)

J Terry (DC)

A Cole (DL)

M Hamsik (MC)

M Essien (MC)

F Lampard (MC)

M Ballack (AMC)

E Dzeko (ST)

D Drogba (ST)

It was a strange one for Roman Abramovich. As he sat high up in the stands, watching his team trying to breach the defence of Besiktas, he found himself rooting for Besiktas to hold up and keep Chelsea at bay.

The away team had done well so far, restricting Chelsea’s chances and holding a fair amount of possession. Chelsea had barely had an effort and Abramovich found himself delighted at the stat, even though it was his own team.

Stuart Kneedy wasn’t meant to be Chelsea’s manager. Abramovich knew he wouldn’t win trophies. He had to get rid of Kneedy.

He’d tried his damned hardest to get the resilient manager to resign. He’d applied an unbelievable amount of pressure on the manager, he’d thrown buckets of abuse at him, he’d disrespected him but Stuart Kneedy kept on crawling back, asking for more. If anything, he was mentally tough and he wasn’t going to walk away – which is why Abramovich had demanded that he beat both Besiktas and Arsenal to keep his job. With the way Chelsea’s form was, it was becoming more and more likely that Keedy wouldn’t be able to fulfil the demands and would eventually give Abramovich fair grounds upon which to dismiss him.

Then, as Abramovich played the scene of him sacking Kneedy over and over in his head, a goal was scored. The Chelsea chairman was sucked back into the real world and he almost didn’t like what he saw.

Edin Dzeko had latched onto a header from Didier Drogba and had finished well from the edgo of the area. Then, Abramovich saw something that he knew he didn’t like.

The players followed Dzeko across to Stuart Kneedy before celebrating with him once again. It was almost like a message of defiance sent from the team to the chairman, and he didn’t like it one bit.

Anelka had made a bad choice in the words he used with the press. Since then, the team had rallied around Kneedy. That’s not what Abramovich wanted – he wanted them to despise Kneedy, just as he did. In Abramovich’s eyes, Kneedy was an idiot who couldn’t lead a team of the World XI to the League Cup Finals, let alone an aging Chelsea side.

But the players liked him. And, as the Chelsea owner looked around, he saw that the fans were beginning to warm to the tough manager. They were no longer making rude gestures at him, no longer chanting about how Abramovich should stick his new manager were the sun doesn’t shine. Even though he was hardly being treated as a Chelsea legend, he was beginning to win them over.

Despite this though, almost all of them expected Kneedy to be out of the door soon. Arsenal were top of the league after a great start and, if he wasn’t going out because of a run of poor results, he’d be going out on ‘mutual grounds’, just like a certain Jose Mourinho. Everybody had learnt by now that if Abramovich didn’t like you, you didn’t stand a chance. And Abramovich didn’t like Kneedy.

With 25 minutes of the second half remaining, and with his team still 1-0 up fron Dzeko’s first half goal, Stuart Kneedy sat down beside Nicolas Anelka.

“Nicolas, I want to put you on in a minute, but I need to know that you’ll make an effort for me,” Stuart said quietly to his striker. The Frenchman just looked straight on at the pitch, barely acknowledging his manager.

“Listen, mate,” Stuart began, “I didn’t come here with my heart set on excluding you from the team. But it’s give and receive. Give me a little and you’ll be rewarded, my friend. I’m not asking us to be best buddies, I’m just asking you to give it all for your teammates. Will you give it a crack for them?”

Anelka looked down to the floor and bit his top lip, nodding slightly and squinting. It was rare to see any emotion on the face of Anelka, so Stuart knew he’d finally struck something.

“Okay. I’ll see what I can do,” Anelka said, looking his manager in the eye. He then unzipped his coat before standing and walking from the dugout to start his warm-up.

“And gaffer,” he said, turning before he disappeared down the sideline. Stuart looked up at Anelka.

“Thanks,” he said quickly. Then, without a seconds’ delay, Anelka was off and warming up. Stuart smiled to himself. There was still work to be done with Anelka, a lot of work, but it was a step in the right direction.

Once Anelka had finished his routine, he replaced Didier Drogba – a man who Stuart knew he would need for the Arsenal game if he was to keep his job for sure.

But Chelsea had to see out this game before worrying about Arsenal and just a few minutes from time, Dzeko brushed Besiktas fully out of Chelsea’s path. Ex-midfielder John Terry chipped a pass down the left wing which was retrieved by Lampard. The England international then hit a deep cross into the area, and Edin Dzeko climbed above two defenders to head home from 12 yards.

The team celebrated and even Anelka gave Dzeko a quick clap on the back for his goal. Anelka himself hadn’t really done much, but his attitude had improved greatly.

Chelsea 2-0 Besiktas (Edin Dzeko 35th and 86th minutes)

“Well done on tonight’s performance, especially you Edin. I’ve been impressed and my job is a step closer to being safe,” Stuart said, slowly pacing the room.

“But we still have one more obstacle, guys. And it’s in the shape of Arsenal. They are top of the league, winning games for fun and they are yet to lose away from home, so we’ll be up against it. But we’re capable of winning – more than capable. You all know it.”

Each man looked up at Stuart Kneedy. Including Anelka.

“So I just ask that you focus, and give it your all. We’ll do all the preparation we can for the game, but it’s down to you guys. My fate is in your hands.”

7/11/2009

Stuart looked at himself in the mirror. Today was the day. Saturday the seventh of November, two-thousand-and-nine. Stuart and his staff had done all they could to prepare the Chelsea team for the Arsenal game, and now it was down to those 11 men who would take to the pitch.

“Give me this day, old man. Give me this day,” Stuart said, kissing his finger before pointing it towards the sky, where he knew his parents were watching him from. His prayer was to his father. Stuart would need all of the luck he could get and, whether there was a heaven or not, it gave him a piece of mind to know that those from above were on his side.

But then that posed the age-old question; ‘If God is on my side, who’s on theirs?’. Frankly, Stuart didn’t give a sh...

P Cech

J Bosingwa

Alex

J Terry

A Cole

M Hamsik

M Essien

F Lampard

M Ballack

E Dzeko

D Drogba

That was Stuart’s team. And as they took the field, Stuart knew it was a side capable of beating their opponents.

Stuart hadn’t said much in the pre-match team talk. His players knew what was on the line. They knew the game plan. They knew the opponents. They knew the task they faced against the current top team in the league and they knew they could win.

But they also knew that Arsenal could dismember any team in the world on their day, and this happened to be a good day for the Gunners. Just 5 minutes in, Fabregas stepped up to convert a free-kick. From 30 yards out, the Spanish maestro curled the ball into the post which then rebounded into the net to give his team an early lead and nudged Kneedy towards the Exit door.

But Chelsea then surged forward with Didier Drogba leading the line. The huge forward usually loved the big games and this one seemed to be no exception. His movement, pace and power were all on key but his finishing wasn’t as Almunia repeatedly beat his efforts away with swagger, frustrating the Chelsea team.

Ballack then also joined in with the target practice, with him and Drogba managing 6 shots on target between them, all between the 10th and 20th minute. But none of their efforts to save their manager were successful, as Almunia confidently defended his goalmouth.

10 minutes before half-time, Lampard’s shot from the edge of the area was saved by Almunia, who quickly moved to set up a counter attack. Within seconds, Arshavin had swung a high cross into the box which found the head of van Persie, who managed to nod the ball into the back of the net from close range, as the home side were left reeling.

Stuart’s heart sank. It was still only the first half and they were 0-2 down to Arsenal. Stuart needed a win to keep his job and he began to fear the worst as the teams went in at that scoreline.

High up in the stand, Roman Abramovich turned to his assistant.

“Get on the phone to Ancelotti. Tell him to be ready to fly to London; his services will be required very soon.”

“The next 45 minutes will be the most important 45 of my life. And it all depends on you guys. Just go out there and make me proud, win, draw or lose. Give it your best.”

Stuart finished on his team talk before grabbing Didier Drogba. As the rest of the players filed out of the dressing room, Stuart decided to try and get that extra inch needed from Didier Drogba.

“Didi, you’re playing well at the moment. But I need more.”

“I’m trying, boss. I’m just not finishing well!” answered the striker.

“I know, mate. But I need you to be ruthless. Goals will come if you keep going. You can save me, Didier. Don’t let me down.”

I would like to say the second half started brightly. But it didn’t.

Within 10 minutes of the restart, both Ashley Cole and Jose Bosingwa picked up injuries and needed to be replaced. Paulo Ferreira went on for Cole, while Ivanovic filled in at right-back in a game where Kneedy needed his top performers.

A few minutes later, the volcano that was Didier Drogba began to simmer. Just after the subs had been made, Drogba headed a chance over the bar. Then, five minutes later, Drogba worked well with Dzeko and, as a result of a nifty 1-2, Drogba was put through on goal and managed to beat Almunia for once.

But he was then disappointed further as his shot clipped the outside of the post and went out for a goal kick. His body language looked good and he seemed like a ravaged animal gnawing at his chains, but whether he would get free or not was another question.

With just half an hour remaining, Chelsea were still 0-2 down and the home fans began to boo their own team, calling for Kneedy’s departure. Abramovich smiled inanely. He was witnessing the long-overdue death of an incompetent manager, and he was enjoying every second of it.

But then the monster that was Drogba, erupted.

With just over 20 minutes remaining, Drogba brought the ball down just outside of the Arsenal area, chesting it to Edin Dzeko before striding backwards into the area. Dzeko chipped the ball back to his partner and, in midturn, without taking his eyes off the ball, Drogba volleyed with his right foot across goal and into the far corner to pull one back for his team.

Kneedy clenched both fists as a glimmer of hope appeared in the form of Drogba, who was picking the ball up from the back of the net.

Barely 2 minutes later, Lampard won the ball on the edge of his area and hoofed it up towards the Arsenal half. With only Dzeko near him, Drogba nodded the ball across to his new-found friend before setting off on a rampaging run.

When he was 25 yards from goal, Drogba called for the return ball and he got it. With Eboue hot on his heels, Drogba let the ball bounce into the area and across his body before volleying it once again, but this time towards the near post. Almunia could do nothing to stop the shot and he simply watched as it sped past him, bringing Chelsea level and sending Stamford Bridge to cloud 9.

As he celebrated, Kneedy looked across at Arsene Wenger. The Arsenal manager was going mad, berating his defence and midfield and kicking bottles everywhere.

But it still wouldn’t be enough to save Kneedy’s job and Drogba knew that. He wanted more, which is why he quickly returned to grab the ball and restart once more. Abramovich’s face had turned quickly sour and Drogba was determined to turn it another notch once more.

As Anelka took to the field to replace Alex in Stuart Kneedy’s desperate attempt to find a winner, Chelsea pressed again. This time though, it was Dzeko who was presented with the chance.

And as he turned and volleyed the ball, Dzeko was flattened by Alexandre Song in what looked to be a sure-fire penalty that would save Stuart Kneedy’s job. But Mark Clattenburg waved play on and Stuart’s shoulders dropped. With just over 5 minutes remaining, things were still level and, despite the brilliant comeback that still wasn’t good enough to keep Stuart’s job.

Michael Ballack then collected the ball 40 yards from goal and turned to see Didier Drogba free from his marker once more, bursting into the area. With all eyes on him, Ballack stroked a lovely ball into Drogba’s path to put him through 1 on 1 with Almunia. As the ‘keeper came off of his line, Drogba steadied himself in the wet, almost on top of the penalty spot. Then, he pulled his right leg back...

And reversed the ball past Almunia’s right hand side, sending Chelsea 3-2 up 5 minutes from time.

This time, Drogba didn’t return to the net to grab the ball. Instead, he tore away towards his manager, meeting him halfway between the goal and the dugout. Stuart Kneedy jumped on Drogba and celebrated with his team and the fans. He was booked for his celebrations but he didn’t care, as long as that was the final goal.

It wasn’t.

Just a minute or so later, a fresh Theo Walcott burst down the right wing and swung a deep cross into the Chelsea area. It was cleared by Ivanovic, who could only get it as far as Fabregas.

Chelsea won the ball again though, with Ballack winning the challenge and setting Drogba free once again on the left. Enthusiastic and smelling blood, Drogba accelerated down the left all the way to the byline. He then cut it back across goal and into the path of Lampard, who lashed a 4th home to seal the victory.

Chelsea 4-2 Arsenal (Didier Drogba 69th, 72nd and 85th Frank Lampard 88th)

As was promised, Kneedy kept his job. But what he went on to achieve that season isn’t known just yet. Maybe one day, Stuart Kneedy’s story could return to FMS. But for now, he’s shown everybody who really is ‘The Top Drog’.

Scene starts with Balthazars dressed in a smart suit, sat behind a news desk and shuffling a lot of paper in his hands. As the television cameras swoop in at him, Balth reveals a shining grill of bright white teeth. The smile went perfectly with the dimples in his cheeks and his greased, combed black hair.

Balthazars: Good evening folks. Our main story tonight: Gavrenwick’s Angels save yet more lives, this time coming to the aid of a young family in Dundee, Scotland, to pull both parents and their three children from a blazing house fire. Mother-of-three Candice, 14, stated ‘Ah thought we was gonners for sure then. But then Gav came in and saved us all and I was just like ‘Oh-Mah-God’ and, yeah, just so thankful init’.

Candice’s partner, 16 year old Dwayne, spoke similarly of Gav and his crew, saying ‘Yeah, they is safe mate, know wha’ I is sayin?.... You got tha time mate?’

More on this story as it progresses.

The live TV camera catches Gav, WLKRAS, Viper and Celtic_1967 slapping each other on the back and jumping into a chopper, being expertly piloted by Markwilson27. As the chopper leaves the ground, Terk reaches for his remote, angrily flicking the TV off from the comfort of his armchair in a dimly lit room. SCIAG, Terk’s Persian cat, is led on his owners lap.

Terk: This is getting pathetic now, SCIAG. They save a few villages from floods and pull a few chavs from burning houses and they have the plebs in the palm of their hands. (At the mention of the word ‘Chav’, SCIAG hisses violently, baring his fans and digging his claws into Terk’s lap. This prompts a slap from the owner, bringing SCIAG’s noise to an abrupt end and sending the Persian cat sprawling to one of the dark corners of the room) It’s insane that people like that have the world at their fingertips, yet intelligent, worthy rulers like myself sit here with just small numbers under my command!

Queue the light beat of drums at the beginning of ‘I Just Can’t Wait To Be King – Disney’s ‘The Lion King’’

Terk: I’ve had enough, SCIAG. The people will follow me, you’ll see. Oh I just can’t wait to be king of the world.

(To the tune of I Just Can’t Wait from Disney’s ‘The Lion King’, performed by Terk, SCIAG, Manxie Ash and salkster 2102)

I’m gunna be a mighty King,

So enemies beware,

Well it looks like Gav has got it now,

You haven’t got a prayer,

I’m gunna be the main event,

I’ll knock Gav through the floor,

And while I’m brushing up and taking the crown,

You should be working on a ROAR (Meow),

Thus far a rather,

Uninspiring thing,

But I just can’t wait to be kiiiiing,

(You have rather a long way to go, master, if you think-)

No one saying ‘do this’

(now when I said that, I-),

No one saying ‘be there’

(what I meant was-),

No one saying ‘Stop That!’

(Look, what you don’t realise-),

No one saying ‘see heeeere’

(Now see here!),

Free to run around all day,

Destroying Gav’s group like I would a Cheese Souffleeee

At this point, Terk stands from his chair and throws open his curtains, letting sunlight spill into the room before he begins to dance and clap as well as sing

I think it’s time that you and I,

Arranged a heart-to-heart,

King’s don’t need advice,

Not when their brain’s are state-of-the-art,

If this is where the monarchy is headed,

Count me out!

Out of service,

Out of your office,

I wouldn’t hang about!

I’ll emigrate over to Beijiiing-

In which case I just can’t wait to be king!

As Terk performs a neat, two-step dance, his bodyguards (Manxie Ash and Salkster) enter the room in just loin cloths and begin to copy his moves and sing backing vocals

Everybody look left

(Ooh Aah),

Everybody look right

(Ooh Aah)

Everwhere you look I’m,

Standing in the spotlight!

Let everybody go for broke and sing,

This time what Terk says is the real thing,

It’s gonna be King Terky’s finest fling!

Oh I just can’t waaaaaaaait,

To be King

Terk: SCIAG, get an ad up in the local paper; I’m going to need an evil assistant to help me execute my plans.

SCIAG: If you so wish, sire

Terk: Oh and SCIAG? One more thing. Make sure Ray Wilkins doesn’t apply for the job. The man is useless.

1.2

Gav’s Angel’s Chopper

Flying over Spain, headed for the tiny Perejil Island (which actually means ‘Parsley Island’), the home of Gav’s Angels, situated just off the coast of Morocco

Markwilson27 is the pilot of the chopper. Sat beside him as co-pilot is The-Perfect-FM’er!, who is already sifting through websites on his laptop, searching for rumours of trouble for the next Angel’s Mission. In the rear of the chopper, the Clogg-Clad-Ninja, WLKRAS was meditating. Beside him was Viperk1 who was watching Gav as the leader of the group bit into a large meat pie. Sat next to the open door of the chopper, looking out to sea, was Celtic_1967. His long, blonde locks fluttered around his shoulders and his ripped torso gleamed with sweat.

Gavrenwick: Celtic, you are a beautiful man. Have some of my pie?

Celtic_1967: Thanks, boss. I would love to take some of your pie, but I already have my own. Steak pie, just like yours.

Gav smiles at Celtic, who winks in return. As Gav stared into the deep, dark eyes of Celtic, he lost himself in visions of love-making and lust – before a familiar voice snapped him out of it

Viperk1: I’ll have Celtic’s piece of pie?

Gavrenwick: Erm no, you won’t

Viperk1: Come on, just pass the pie over here, I’m really hungry!

Gavrenwick: You want the pie? Here, have it

Gav throws a piece of pie out of the open chopper door before cramming the last few bites into his own mouth

Viperk1: What the f*ck were that?!?

Gavrenwick: Stop crying, it was only pie.... Actually, I retract that statement

Viperk1: But you just ate the last bits of that pie! There’s no more left!

Gavrenwick: Just remember Viper; No pie, no more cry

(To the tune of No Woman No Cry – Bob Marley, performed by Gav and Viper)

[g]No pie, no more cry,

No pie, no more cry!

No pie, no more cry,

No pie, no more cry![g]

[v]Said, Said, Said I remember,

When we used to sit and share pie,

In the chopper or on the isle, When we saw eye-to-eye,

We would alllll Share our food and our wealth,

Now all I say to you,

Is go diddle yourself,

Good friends we were but,

Good friends I’ve lost,

Along the waaay,[v]

[g]Viper just calm it,

Forget about the past,

Just dry your teeears and laugh,

No pie, no more cry,

No pie, no more cry!

‘Ere, Viper baby, don’t shed no tears,

No pie, no more cry,[g]

The music fades out as the chopper approaches Parsley Island, the home of Gav’s Angels. Scene switches. We are now in Terk’s office. He is sat behind a desk, upon which SCIAG is sat. Both have a pen and a lot of paper. They are interviewing candidates for the Assistant’s post. Ray Wilkins is sat on the other side of the desk

Ray Wilkins: I’ve got a good record of royally shagging things up to your advantage. I’m the man for this job.

Terk: Get out.

Wilkins shrugs his shoulders before standing from his chair and offering Terk a handshake. Terk simply stares back at Wilkins angrily, his nostrils flaring. Wilkins hastily leaves the room

Terk: Who’s next, SCIAG? They’ve all been hopeless so far, if this next guy isn’t who we’re looking for, you’re on dry cat food for the next month. Call in the next one.

Enter -Xenon- on roller-skates in small, green shorts and a pink vest-top, wearing a glow-stick necklace and a yellow sweatband around his head while also blowing a pink whistle and carrying a can of shandy bass in one hand

Terk: And who is this?

Xen stops wheeling around the room and blowing his whistle to stand in front of Terk and SCIAG, his hands on his hips and his feet shoulder-width apart-Xenon-: My name is Xenon – I’m the pride of the south!

Terk: The words ‘South’ and ‘Pride’ don’t go together. Things are already looking poor for you. Unless you have something that could really swing this in your favour, leave now.

Music suddenly starts playing from nowhere as Xenon starts clapping his hands above his head and shaking his booty like George Michael -Xenon-: Hit it!

(To the tune of WHAM/George Michael – I’m Your Man, performed by –Xenon-)

Call me good,

Call me bad,

Call me anything you want to baby,

But I know,

That you’re sad,

And I know I’ll make you happy with the one thing that you’ve never had,

Terky, I’m your maaan,

Don’t you know that?

Terky baby, I’m your man,

You bet,

If you’re gunna do it, do it right, right?

Do it with me,

If you’re gunna do it do it right, right?

Do it with me,

If you’re gunna do it do it right, right?

Do it with me,

If you’re gunna do it do it right, right?

Do it with me,

I’m so good,

So divine,

Wanna take you out down south but you tell me that is a crime,

Everybody knows where the good people go,

But when I’ve helped you baby,

We’ll have beaten gav 10 times or so,

Terky,

I’m your man,

Don’t you know who I am?

Terky baby, I’m your man,

Xenon kicks his skates off before jumping up on Terk’s desk to continue his George Michael-esque dancing

You bet,

If you’re gunna do it do it right, right?

Do it with me,

If you’re gunna do it do it right, right?

Do it with me,

If you’re gunna do it do it right, right?

Do it with me,

If you’re gunna do it do it right, right?

Do it with me,

Terkyyyyy, I’m your man!

Xenon finishes off, bowing to Terk. Terk is still seated. He has barely moved throughout the whole routine and he now feels like Simon Cowel

Terk: George Michael, huh? I like it. Xenon, you are now my Evil Assistant. Congratulations, son.

**********

Nice one Offspring - I do like a good short story

Very well done.

Well done indeed