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A West Ham fan enters Upton Park.
Mr. Praline: 'Ello, I wish to register a complaint.
(David Sullivan does not respond.)
Mr. Praline: 'Ello, Miss?
Sullivan: What do you mean "miss"? I'm not Carlton Cole!
Mr. Praline: {pause} I'm sorry, I have a cold. I wish to make a complaint!
Sullivan: We're closin' for lunch.
Mr. Praline: Never mind that, my lad. I wish to complain about this pillock what the club appointed Manager not more than 18 months before.
Sullivan: Oh yes, the, uh, the Former Chelsea Blue...What's,uh...What's wrong with it?
Mr. Praline: I'll tell you what's wrong with it, my lad. 'E's dead useless, that's what's wrong with it!
Sullivan: No, no, 'e's uh,...he's learning.
Mr. Praline: Look, matey, I know a dead useless pillock when I see one, and I'm looking at one right now.
Sullivan: No no he's not dead useless, he's, he's learning! Remarkable manager, the Former Chelsea Blue, idn'it, ay? Beautiful ideas!
Mr. Praline: The ideas don't enter into it. It's tactically stone dead.
Sullivan: Nononono, no, no! 'E's learning!
Mr. Praline: All right then, if he's learning', I'll teach 'im! (shouting at Zola) 'Ello, Mister Gianfranco Zola! I've got a lovely right footed right winger for you if you'd care to play him on the right wing!...
(Sullivan smacks Zola about the head)
Sullivan: There, he took that in!
Mr. Praline: No, he didn't, that was you hitting him round the head!
Sullivan: I never!!
Mr. Praline: Yes, you did!
Sullivan: I never, never did anything...
Mr. Praline: (yelling and hitting Zola repeatedly) 'ELLO ZOLA!!!!! Testing! Testing! Testing! Testing! This is your eight games left alarm call!
(Lifts Zola up and thumps his head on the reception desk. Throws Zola up in the air and watches him plummet to the floor.)
Mr. Praline: Now that's what I call a dead useless pillock.
Sullivan: No, no.....No, 'e's stunned after the Wolves game!
Mr. Praline: STUNNED?!?
Sullivan: Yeah! Wolves stunned him, just as he was wakin' up to what was needed! Former Chelsea Blues stun easily, major.
Mr. Praline: Um...now look...now look, mate, I've definitely 'ad enough of this. That pillock is definitely a deceased manager, and when the club appointed it not more than 18 months before, we was assured that its total lack of tactical know how was due to it bein' new and inexperienced.
Sullivan: Well, he's...he's, ah...probably pining for Sardinia.
Mr. Praline: PININ' for Sardinia!?!?!? What kind of talk is that? Look, why did he fall flat on his back the moment this season kicked off?
Sullivan: The Ex Chelsea Blue prefers keepin' on it's back! Remarkable manager, id'nit, squire? Lovely ideas!
Mr. Praline: Look, I took the liberty of examining that pillock when I was at the Wolves game, and I discovered the only reason that it had been standing on the touchline in the first place was that it had been NAILED there.
(pause)
Sullivan: Well, o'course it was nailed there! If the club hadn't nailed that manager down, it would have nuzzled up to those doors, bent 'em apart with its nose, and VOOM! Feeweeweewee!
Mr. Praline: "VOOM"?!? Mate, this pillock wouldn't "voom" if you put four million volts through it! 'E's bleedin' tactically demised!
Sullivan: No no! 'E's pining!
Mr. Praline: 'E's not pinin'! 'E's passed on! This pillock is no more! He has ceased to be a manager! 'E's expired and gone to meet 'is maker! 'E's a stiff! Bereft of life, 'e rests in peace! If you hadn't nailed 'im to the touchline 'e'd be pushing up the daisies! 'Is metabolic processes are now 'istory! 'E's off the twig! 'E's kicked the bucket, 'e's shuffled off 'is mortal coil, run down the curtain and joined the bleedin' choir invisible!! THIS IS AN EX-MANAGER!!
(pause)
Sullivan: Well, I'd better replace it, then. (he takes a quick peek behind the counter) Sorry squire, I've had a look 'round the back of the shop, and uh, we're right out of replacement managers.
Mr. Praline: I see. I see, I get the picture.
Sullivan: {pause} I've got a vibrator.
(pause)
Mr. Praline: (sweet as sugar) Pray, does it talk tactics?
Sullivan: Nnnnot really.
Mr. Praline: WELL IT'S HARDLY A BLOODY REPLACEMENT, IS IT?!!???!!?
Sullivan: Look, if you go to my former club in Birmingham, they'll replace the pillock for you.
Mr. Praline: Birmingham, eh? Very well.
Sullivan: (to the audience) Well! I never wanted to do this in the first place. I wanted to be... A LUMBERJACK! (he takes off his white coat to reveal a checkered shirt and suspenders under it) Floating down the mighty rivers of the Fizzy Pop! With my Karren Brady by my side!