by John Ward
Footie fans were bored to the core last night by the revelation that the FA Cup will become the Brexit Cup as of season 2018-19…and before a ball has been kicked, the finalists have been selected. Thanks to our unrivalled sources living in the future, The Slog Pan-Global axis of localism can now bring exclusive details of the result at The King Baudouin Stadium in Brussels on May 32nd 2019.
The following excerpts are from BBCSky’s live coverage of the game at The King Baudouin:
Marlin Typhoid: Yes indeed, here at the King Baudouin Stadium we’ve seen one of the all-time classic finals, in which Leaverpool finally triumphed over Sparta Remainia by five goals to four. What did you make of it, Randy?
Don Flotsam: Good gwacioush me Wandy, you’re on the ball with that one and no mishtake….but oi have ter sayee oi found the Wemainia midfield very dishappointing on the daiyee…
Larry Mavis: Hard to argue with that Don, but I think the manager made all the wrong calls.
MT: Yes, I must confess to being confused by Jean-Claude Juncker’s decision to play Donald Tusk in goal, given his long history of open legs and butterfingers…
DF: Yesh, and I wash myshtified by Juncker’s tactics in giving the left-back shlot to Mario Dwaghi, give hish proven talentsh as the classic wingit on a prayer player.
RG: True, true so at azz, but the Leaverpool coach Terry May made a major blunder in gavvin’ Boris Jobsdone a deep-lyin’ madfield roole wheen the guy’s entire hastry is one of firin’ orrff shots in all directions.
LM: Anyway, let’s focus now on the presentation of the Cup. There seems to be something of a fracas taking place in front of the Royal Box….
MT: You may well be right Larry, so we’re going over live as it happens to what looks like a heated discussion now taking place on the near touchline. Are you there, Kay Bully…
Kay Bully: Yes, sorry Marlin, just adjusting my perfect hair there, but it’s pretty clear to me even though I know fuckall about football that there is something going on between our Brussels hosts and the players from the two teams. Stalwart Leaverpool captain Nigel Barrage and Remainia midfield schemer Nina Slick are having something of a barney, while Remainia striker Guy Verhofshit is involved in a tussle with the Leaverpool keeper Jake Fleece-Mob.
I think the best thing I can do is push the mike at these warring factions and get the flavour of what’s going on…..
N. Barrage: Look here, we won and so we want the Cup…
Bernard Russell-Sprout (for it is he): All in good time, but first you must negotiate..
NB: What’s to negotiate? We won 5-4
Verhofshit: Your third goal was offside….
Slick: …and your first goal was a fantasy invented by the mentally unbalanced Leaverpool supporters…
NB: Yes well, that’s not what ref thought, so tough titty….
(At this point, burly Remainia centre forward Angela Mirakel pushes to the front of the melée waving a large sausage menacingly at Barrage)
Mirakel: Sie….Sie, kleinen Engländer, alle Dummköpfen wie immer! Vee are still vaitink for your terms of surrender…
Fleece-Mob: Frau Doktor, with the very greatest of respect, we have just played ninety minutes of what I believe the lower orders call soccer and beaten you fair and square by 5 goals to 4. There is no disputing this, and so I’m afraid I must insist that the presentation of the Cup goes ahead.
(SFX loud chants of “We are the four-goalers” in the background, as hat-trick boy Owen Stonewall comes into shot)
Owen Stonewall: You lied! It was 4-3 to us. Are you really trying to tell the well-educated sons of Remainia that I scored a glittering hat-trick but still lost? That is absurd. The referee must be smashed! He had a swastika tattoed on his neck….I saw it with my own….
Boris Jobsdone: Now look here, this just isn’t cricket. I’ve been watching the game from the midfield and I can tell you it was definitely football. All this whingeing is typical of bloody foreigners, it’s all a lot of Superstate poppycock and we demand our Cup….
Michel ‘Grand’ Marnier, Remainian full-back: The referee’s clock was not ticking….I am most observant about such things, and it was obvious to me that the referee played a second half lasting four hours until my friend Phoney Flair shouted, “Blow the whistle you stupid fucking penguin” and startled him into action…After 88 minutes we were leading 4-3, and thus deserved to win…
Fleece-Mob: Monsieur Marnier, I reaarrrlly must remind you that football is played over ninety minutes, and we scored twice in the 89th and 90th minutes….
Mirakel: GENAU! Just like your Manchester Untermenschen did in 1999, scoring two goals in injury time after unser geliebter Bayern München had todally bossed ze game….you stole our victory and ziss is vot you’re tryink to do again, Englischer Schweinhünde…
Verhofshit: You bribed the referee to get our striker Yannis Stournaras sent off….
Davos Davis, the solid but unimaginative second-half substitute for Leaverpool: Um, he shot the fourth official, Guy….
Flair: Hey, well, yes….there is that….but look, you know me….good old phoney…I think we deserve a replay….
Flair: Because we lost. I wasn’t ready. The pitch was waterlogged. The ball was over-inflated. The goalposts were too big. Your fans shouted our fans down….
(Enter left field the Remainia trainer in a jet-black tracksuit, instantly recognisable as Mario Dragula….)
Dragula: Shadduppadaface all ofa you…..wassamarra here, you theenk we runneeng somma kinda glee-club? Dissa very seriooos, so gedda real. De game declared null and void widda only one point onna de pools coupons an’ no sheet….dere’sagonnabe a golden goal shootout or whaddevva untilla we win, cappiche? Anybody argue, we send on secret weapon to wipea de floor wiv your pathetica Pound…
Entire Leaverpool team: You don’t mean….
Dragula: Yes….who else, youzz bambino estoopido….George Soulless
(Kay Bully, as ever knowing what’s good for her, backs away at the mention of the Anti-Christ – the only man more diabolical than her boss Dupert Merdeshlock….)
Bully: Well on that bell tolling for Armageddon, I think it’s back to you guys in the commentary box…..
Typhoid: Well, looks like we’ve got a small sponsorship issue here fellas….
Flotsam: Good gwashioush me yesh, and what a shenshational end to this dwamatic final Marlin…
Gay: Aye, wull…that’s footba’ so at uzz, but the Leaverpool lads shouldney get al bent oota shape a boot at, ah mean it was all above board and legal and we Scots want to stay in Europe while gatten’ awee from yoo Sassenachs, so as far as….
Mavis: Oh come on Randy, you cannot be serious….the whole thing’s a complete bloody stitch-up, surely you can see that…
Gay: See heeyah Jammy, arrr yoo lookan for a punch in the gorb….
Typhoid: Well I’m afraid that’s all we have time for today, except to give you one late result in the Cup Winners’ Cup: Panathanikos 7 FussballKlub Berlin 0. The game was declared a draw after Martyr Schulz complained that the Athens team fielded all eleven players.
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