'Allo, 'Allo, never mind the takeovers, West Ham fancy a takeaway from Rene Artois' cafe. Lumbered with just Faux Pas and Phil Spector to fill the right back berth, Zola, it seems, fancies signing another French forger and master of disguises, Monsieur Le Clerc. No doubt he will arrive saying, "It is I, Leclerc", accompanied by a raising of his glasses, to reveal his identity.
But why stop at Le Clerc? We already have Faubert, the fallen Madonna with the big boobies, and Duxbury is a passable Herr Flick. Zola, of course, is Bertorelli! Perhaps we could give a coaching job to Bishop so we have Gruber on board on too. The idiot "fans" who hiss to simulate the gas chambers when we play Tottenham can of course be the extras playing the Nazi footsoldiers whilst Behrami is the Swiss Cockoo Clock, absolutely irrespressible! Ashton and Dyer? The two Brits, Fairfax and Carstairs, hiding in the treatment room hoping to escape. Yvette and Maria left with Pardew allegedly!
And Rene himself? Iain Dale without question!
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