In The Dressing Room (Herc's Spoof)
*We join the lads gearing up for the first leg of their semi-final against Blackburn* In The Dressing Room - Pre-Carling Cup Semi!
*We join Emile Heskey in a dressing gown and underpants, he's playing Call of Duty on the XBox and is holding the phone between his face and his shoulder*
Heskey: Hi Boss, I can't make it to today's match. I'm snowed in.
MON: What!? This is terrible Emile!
Heskey: Yeah I know, it's a real shame. I was looking forward to playing Sam Allardyce's Blackburn in the cold and snow but alas I'm trying my best I just can't dig my way out.
TV: 'Dogs! Coming right at us!'
Heskey: Die you stinking mutt!
MON: Emile!? Did you just call me a stinking mutt!?
Heskey: No..... It's a dog ........ trying to stop my digging plight.
MON: And you're trying to kill it?
Heskey: Yes? .... With the shovel, the shovel I'm digging my way out of the snow with.
MON: You show that dog who's boss Emile!
Heskey: OK boss anyway have a nice match, bye.
*Heskey hears a loud whirring outside, he opens his front door and peers out*
MON (with Megaphone): Emile grab the ladder!
*a helicopter is hovering above Heskey's head, MON has thrown down a rope ladder, Heskey climbs it and sits miserably next to MON*
Heskey: Boss really, you shouldn't have.
MON: It'll take more than an injury or avalanche to stop me fielding you Emile.
Heskey: Yeah, great, cheers.
MON: Aren't you cold?
*MON strolls confidently into a press conference, he takes a seat and wiggles his glasses*
MON: Good afternoon everyone, a bit chilly isn't it? Any questions?
Journo #1: Hi Martin, Bob from the Sun.
MON: Hello Bob, nice scarf.
Journo #1: Thanks, have you anything to say about the rumour I just made up that you're interested in signing Victor Moses.
MON: Well.... You just said you made it up there.
Journo #1: Yes, but do you confirm or deny your interest?
MON: Well I've heard alot about this lad, mainly from links to other clubs.
Journo #1: Yes I made them all up, so are you going to sign him or what?
MON: I doubt it. I have three lads waiting in the wings Albrighton, Clark and Delfouneso in many ways they're like new signings.
Journo #1: Not really like new signings are they Martin? They're alot more like products of the youth system, not very exciting. How about Callum Best, like Callum Best would you?
MON: Does Callum Best even play football?
*Bob mutters to himself as he jots on his notepad*
Journo #1: 'Martin O'Neill in Best Slam'
MON: Hang on what are you writing there?
Journo #2: Hi Martin, Richard here from the Daily Express.
MON: Hello Richard, mind if I call you Dick or Dicky?
Journo #2: Yes I do mind. Not signing any foreigners are you?
MON: I'm not signing anyone, I've said it 100 times.
Journo #2: Good, good. Joining the fight against the extremists are you?
MON: What? What're you talking about?
*Richard mutters to himself as he jots on his notepad, whilst taking another spoon of cottage cheese*
Journo #2: 'O'Neill vows to keep football british'
MON: Now hang on I didn't say anything of the sort!
*Richard is packing his things together*
Journo #2: Bye Martin, watch out for immigrants.
Journo #3: Alright Martin, Daily Star.
MON: Hi I..
*Journo #3 Unfolds a double page poster of a topless glamour girl*
Journo #3: Check out the norks on that!
MON: Er.... Very nice ... Any football related questions?
Journo #3: Nah, we'll just copy The Sun.
Journo #1: Hey!