Yesterday BRTH produced Part 1 of what could be the greatest comedy since Mrs Brown’s Boys…sorry, I take that back…every comedy is better than Mrs Brown’s Boys!
Let’s say that this has the prospect of being on a par with Father Ted. If you have not read Part 1, please do so now, and then sit back for Act II.
(But before we do so, in the style of Pearl & Dean, rather than Duff & Phelps, a quick announcement – I am hoping to add some contributors to the site. If anyone is interested in doing so, from whatever side of the debate, even from the old enemy (Airdrie United 🙂 ) feel free to email me at scotslawthoughts at aol.co.uk or contact me through the comments section.
I’m happy to have football related legal pieces, or even legal related football pieces, and indeed pieces which are to do with law and nothing to do with football at all!
No fees payable, but I will buy any contributors a coffee if I meet them!)
In the Blue Room at Ibrox, a small bespectacled man sits calmly in the middle of the room while chaos unfolds all around. No one seems to notice him, nor addresses any point to him, despite the fact that he is central to their very being and presence in the room…….
” That is all YOUR fault” screams Whytey.
” How the Feck is it MY Fault you bug eyed Tosser?” shouts AJ.
“Your Fault and fat Sally’s fault!”
” Listen Whytey, it’s Super Ally or Coisty to you, and we can’t help it if you are a moron”.
“I don’t care what you are called, Sally, you didn’t make yourself clear, you didn’y go through proper business channels, and so an easy mistake was made……. That is all I am saying”
” An easy Mistake?” Roars AJ ” You bought a £4Million KITCHEN you total dork!”
“And you told me at the outset that the first thing we needed as a club was a new Kitchen brand”
” As in Don Kitchenbrand, ya fanny, Not four million quids worth of fecking Poggenphol and Miele”
” And Sally here….”
“Super Ally… for the last time.. my name is Super Ally”
“……. told me to go German and bring in Close…”
” Miroslav Klose, the German… Fecking….. centre…… Fecking….. Forward! Not the Fecking Pay Day loan Bank ya Total Fecking Diddy………..”
” Don’t give me that Pish” screams Whytey ” I told you, I am not a football man, I am a business type, a futures trader……..”
“Well you have traded our Future right down the pan ya wee diddy… and ye did it our AIN fecking money” replies AJ
” I never knew about Don Kitchenbrand.. that was in the 50′s, and I don’t follow German Fitba either… so when you said Klose…. I thought…..”
“It’s clear what Ye thought ya tube” screams AJ
” Mind you, It is a cracker of a deep fat fryer” admits Ally ” Does you a crispy Mars bar in seconds at full heat………..”
AJ Stomps off in despair to the other side of the room passing the Journos who are in a huddle
” So how do you want to run with this?” asks Spiersy in a sort of Bearsdeny gently enquiring accent
” Well we could start twisting it a wee bit round towards saying that Hector/George is being a bit feckin unreasonable…” says Chic
” Don’t you mean “Twisting it round a wee bit?”… that is far better English……” corrects Spiersy
” Shut it Spiersy” says Chic ” You huvny even got a readership who cares about the English, and my readers and Jabba’s readers can barely read English… nobody cares about English anymore”
” I fecking Do!”
” That’s because you are English”
” No.. I am Irish… I keep telling everyone that…..I even know the rules of Hurley and everything…”
” Aye but Tom, what Chic means is that you don’t care about proper written English” says Jabba
” Eh… that will be properly written English” suggests Spiersy
” Right, Feck off Graham, I am not taking a lesson in English from you especially when you are on the brew….. ” says Jabba in the huff
” Anyway” says Tom ” I don’t think knocking Hector is the right angle…. for a start we might annoy him and he starts looking into our expenses…. ”
” Good point Tom” says Chic ” What do you claim in expenses by the way.. the Beeb are getting right stingy”
” Surely that must be really stingy?” asks Graham, at which point Jabba knocks him off his chair and proceeds to sit on him.
” Well I claim my Taxi fares each and every morning into the office” says Tom
” Aye but you won’t make much out of that”
” Well a Taxi to and from Limerick each day adds up!”
” But you don’t stay in Limerick, you stay in Morningside
” Yes well if the Barclay brothers can claim a taxi everyday from the feckin Channel Islands, I can get one from Limerick.”
” But that is fraud!” says mark Daly
” Listen you” says Chic ” If those photos of you Shereen and Big Jackie ever see the light of day, there is no chance of you ever,, and I mean EVER…. getting the big gig on Panorama. I mean what was all that with the furry covered boom microphone and singing “GO COMPARE” like the advert on the telly– what was that all about? So just sit there and shut it till we figure an angle here”
“Anyway” says Tom, glancing at Daly in disgust ” my point is that these are precisely the kind of questions we don’t want Hector to be asking.. Jabba Spiersy going very red in the face down there…..”
At that precise point the door opens, and standing in the frame is a figure in a wide brimmed fedora like hat and a long dark coat. His presence, whilst barely in the room at all, completely changes the atmosphere in an instant. Everyone turns to stare at the figure and reacts in their own different ways….. it is AJ that breaks the silence: Continue reading