Dwell not upon thy weariness, thy strength shall be according to the measure of thy desire…
I, Monsieur Spruce, Chancellor of the Order of the Cannon of the Kingdom of Arsenalia lay ill and bedridden for a fortnight and a day. The fever which came through the bite of the gnat from the land of the Moors from whence former Lord Gervinho the warrior with the mighty forehead came, was upon me. The evil creature had taken a vial of my lifeblood, placed upon me a high fever and left me a shadow of my former self.
As I lay in the infirmary where the bishop Ivan the Terrible nursed me back to health with bitter tasting broths and holy oil, I remembered my discourse with the Duke of Ashburtonshire, Arsene Wenger; we had shared the same bed-chamber at the infirmary. The Bishop Ivan tried to rid the Duke of his nightmares.
*Flashback*
Monsieur Spruce: My Duke, thou seem-est not to recover from the annihilation thee and thy men suffered at the hands of The One, thy nightmares still persist. I heard thee cry out in the still of the night.
Duke Wenger: The nightmares. They are on the wane now; I see-eth not the little mocking boy anymore though, I still hear his mockery.
Monsieur Spruce: And how hast thy campaign gone?
Duke Wenger: My knights and I fought many battles of which we overcome-th not our adversaries as we carried with us a weakened cavalry, hence we were forced to sign truce covenants with many…
*Flashback within a flashback*
The Duke and his knights entered a covenant of truce with the Swine of Swansea and the Mancunian Mercenaries led by that Sheik from Persia as they could not overcome them due to the weakened cavalry wanting the presence of Lords Ozil, Walcott and Ramsey. The Duke suffered defeat at the hands of the Evertonians as they felt the deadly blow of the moor from Gallia Belgica called Lukaku. It was then that this happened…
*Flashback within a flashback within another flashback…what the heck! A million flashbacks!*
King Chips: Lord Per, take-th this fire from the loins of thy elder Lord Tony Adams, place-th it in thine heart for the kingdom’s namesake. Let the flame instil in thee the strength to fight.
Lord Per: *Places the fire upon his chest* Aaaaarrrrgh!!! I will fight! Fight for the noblemen of Arsenalia, fight for her kingdom-sake!
*Return from the numerous flashbacks, phew!*
Duke Wenger: And so it was, that after Lord Per take-th the flame from HRC (His Royal Crispiness) King Chips, he caused the passion for the cannon and kingdom of Arsenalia to come upon the knights and behold! We conquered the Wrigglers of Wigan, the Hamsters of West Ham and the Hustlers of Hull! Many fell by the sword of Lord Podolski and Lords Ramsey and Ozil made quick recovery and bolstered our cavalry once more.
Monsieur Spruce: A miracle indeed! A miracle! May the Lord of Lords grant thee strength to overcome the nightmares which so hunt thee…
*Return from my flashback…I know, I know!, it’s the last one*
Suddenly, I am brought back from my reverie…
Bishop Ivan: Up now Chancellor, thou need-est thy strength to complete the scrolls as the end of the campaign is neigh. Open up! More quinine and bitter ale syrup for you.
Me: Uuurgh!
_____
Meanwhile, up North of Britannia…
The Scousers had risen above the defeat of their Kraken and as kingdom rose against kingdom, and as The One schemed and plotted, the might of the Scousers of Liver-puke grew.
And word was about that the witches of the Glazer did want to spit out Moisty Moyes out of the kingdom of Old Traffordshire as he was too moist for their taste buds. And henchmen Van-Puss and Roo fanned the flames…
Robin van-Puss: Roo, methinks we should-est revolt against this clueless mongrel called Moyes, the little boy tells me so.
Rooney: Huh? Uuh.. wadaya mean by wee-vote?
Robin van-Puss: Revolt stupid! Revolt not wee-vote! No one vote-th here. It means we kick out the boss.
Rooney: Oh? why didn’t ya say that before? Hehehe, I ‘likes’ the idea I tellz ya, I likes it.
And so Van-Puss and Roo stole to the coven of the witches of the Glazer at nightfall…
Robin van-Puss: Sssh… I’ll do all the talking Roo.
Rooney: Oh? Why? Why can’t I sayz something?
Robin van-Puss: Because you’re dumb that’s why.
Rooney: *scratches head* Uuh…what’s that mean? Dumb?
Witches of the Glazer: What hath thou mere mortals come-th to look for in the coven of American capitalists!…*cough* we mean, demi-gods, forget you heard the last part dudes.
Robin van-Puss: Never mind, we know who you are. We come-th here to ask for thy help to vanquish the moistness of Moyes.
Witches of the Glazer: Aah…that was on our ‘To Do List’. No worries. Now, begone from us so that we may drink our monkey excreted coffee!
Robin van-Puss: Very well.
The next morning, as the henchmen were in combat training…
Witches of the Glazer: Thou Henchmen of Old Traffordshire! From today, the moistness of Moyes you see today, you shall see no more! We now present-eth to you your new leader…Henchman Giggs!
Robin van-Puss: S*!t
*And then the witches disappeared*
Henchman Giggs: Now, now, no need to worry me lads, I’ll go easy on ya. Now, line up thy wives for a wee spanking…
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