Hercs in the Dressing Room Pre Stoke

*We join the lads gearing up for their match against Stoke, Houllier enters*

Houllier: Psssst .... Bonjour ma petit chiens!

*A.Young whispers to Carew*

A.Young: did he just call us his little dogs?

*Carew nods*

Carew: I'm more concerned that he's dressed as a tree.

*Houllier parts the leaves in his disguise.*

Houllier: You imbecille Carew! I am not a tree, I am a shrub! On top of zis, I am not 'ere, I am in France.

*The lads look at each other in confusion*

A.Young: Great, he's only been in the job a few days and he's gone mad.

Houllier: Mad? Mad!? Ha! They said Da Vinci was mad!

Petrov: Da Vinci WAS mad.

Houllier: Yes, well, It is not I who is mad, it is the bureaucrats at the FFF I am like a 'ow you say 'prisoner cell block H'!

Gabby: Wait... So I'm not the only one who can see a talking, spanish bush?

Houllier: French shrub! Now I am 'appy with what I 'ave witnessed in your training. Riise you shall start at left back.

A.Young: Boss, that's not Riise, that's Steve...

Sidwell: Ssssh! Yah boss, Yah! No problem. Guten tag.

Warnock: What!? I'm the left back boss, me! I mean...

*Houllier holds up a hand, silencing Warnock*

Houllier: Stephen, Stephen, we got off on 'ow you say ze 'wrong foot' non? I thought you may react like zis so I have you a gift....

*Houllier hands Warnock a wrapped gift, he opens it.*

Warnock: A Coventry shirt!? With my name on the back? I told you boss I'm not going to Coventry again.

Houllier: Stephen, Stephen, Stephen, you do Coventry a great injustice, think of ze greats of Coventry, Steve Ogrizovic, David Speedie, ze larger lady who was on Big Brother a few years ago.

*Warnock scowls*

Houllier: Marc, you are what we call in France 'a good winger' I want you to play, start out wide, zen come inside your man. Understand?

Albrighton: Yes boss.

Clark: He understands alright.

*the dressing room erupts with laughter.*

Houllier: What is zis laughing? Marc you will 'ave un probleme coming inside your man?

*the lads all turn to look at Albrighton, he hangs his head and mutters under his breath*

Albrighton: No boss.

*the dressing room erupts with laughter.*

Houllier: Enough! Now one I thing I do know is that Emile will score us our goals.

*the dressing room erupts with laughter.*

Houllier: Ze laughing again? Perhaps I say ze wrong thing? Emile will play striker and get the goals, zis is what he is good at yes?

Heskey: Yeah ... about that boss.... I've made some minor 'tweaks' to my game....

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