Case File #7 (continued): The Spy Who Shafted Me

He may no longer play for United,
but we have managed to get our grubby
little hands on the archived, top-secret,
investigations he undertook while he was
still under our employment...

At Manchester United, without having regular football as a distraction, Micky Owen was encouraged to develop his detective skills. Under the watchful eye of his spirit guide Eric he provided the club and SAF with something they would be indebted to him for until his contract ran out. Although again it was becoming less clear exactly what that was.

 

To recap on what’s been going on in this two part epic, I’ll give you a quick summary although I know my army of fans will need no reminder… You may wish to lift your laptop or fancy phone up a little and kind of move it up and down in a wavy slow motion kind of a way to create the realistic effect of a flashback. You can also make a high pitch noise like this dooodly do, dooodly do, doodly doo, doodly do. Now are you all back in May in your mind? Right. Well, as you will clearly remember it was a typical day: SAF told me Hargo had joined City and then I spent most of the time saying Noooooooooooo, but a lot longer. There was an emotional thing, if you’re soft. I only cried cus I had something, an eye lash, that was it, in my eye. Now I had to find out why Hargo had betrayed us.

After the emotional day I’d had, my wife had got me dressed for bed early and tucked me in. But I just couldn’t sleep. Tossing, turning, tossing again, but still couldn’t get off. After a few hours, around 9pm, a small reflection of light from outside caught my eye. “Aaaarghh,” this was infuriating. No sleep and now some annoying light reflecting in my face. I kept turning away, but the light was unrepentant. It even seemed to be getting stronger. After an hour it stopped and after an inhumane amount of construction noise, a mechanical clunk signalled the switch on of what appeared to be a huge floodlight. “For Christ’s sake!!!” I was on the verge of snapping a pencil. I buried my head deep in the duvet. An hour later the floodlight was turned off. Then came the tapping on the bedroom window.  Of course, I tried my best to ignore it. The tapping got more intense and louder. The ruddy window panes felt like they were about to come in. I got up and drew the curtains. The tapping was now more of a cracking as the window started to buckle under the pressure of the incessant attack. Silence fell for a second. *CCCRRRAAAAASSSSHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!* The floodlight came hurtling through the window. As I shot up and began trembling “Take me with you, stick probes in my arse, gently, whatever, I’m a peaceful earthling” I whispered into the darkness through my terror. “What the hell are you dumb!!, I’ve been trying to get your attention for the past three hours!” It was Hargo.

After helping me sneak my wet bed sheets in to the tumble dryer, Hargo explained everything. “I had to do it without anyone knowing Micky, cus I knew somehow SAF would find out and even he can’t know, or my cover will be blown. If I’m going to take City down from the inside, then it has to be between me and you and these padded walls … wait what are you doing? Who are you on the phone to? Micky!!!” “Oh, I was just telling SAF everything you were just saying. Sorry what were the main points again? I missed them, SAF’s just preparing a group email newsletter to the intranet mail out, carry on…” I replied. “Jeeez, you are something else.” Hargo snapped. “Thanks”, I replied smugly. It was just like old times.

He went on to tell me a few things he’d already learned. “The training starts at 11am where we go through advanced arrogance drills, facial expressions, swagger etc… Then we break for lunch at 12 with a finger buffet of endangered species from around the world. The second part of the day is dedicated to money management, where we partake in role playing sessions. Buying yachts, which we never have any intention of using, writing off expensive cars, fanning ourselves with wads of cash, that sort of thing.” He also went on to tell me about one event in particular. “When Balotelli threw the dart at that youth player it was because he’d been bitten by de Jong and was terrified for his life. He went mental. Balotelli was actually tranquilising him so that the club doctor could administer treatment to the wound!” Wow! You really should never believe everything you read.

 

Hargo had to head back as the squad were off to Dubai in the morning for a team bonding session, something about a barbecue with gardening. I don’t know he mentioned a spit roasting with some hoes? As he was leaving he turned, “Micky, trust me. I’ll keep my eye on City”. With that we high-tenned. 

Case closed.

 

I will not rest until the integrity of Manchester United is upheld. But can we try and keep the investigates dates from clashing with the days I’ve got any of my horses running. It hasn’t happened yet, but just giving you a heads up. Okay? 

Keep ‘em peeled!

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