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 allowed to develop his detective skills. YEAH, YEAH, WHATEVER! LISTEN MICKY THIS IS SAF!!! I’M TAKIN OVER INVESTIGATIONS FER THIS MONTH, ALRIGHT PAL?!YER CAN FORGET YER TWO PART SPECIAL WITH THAT FLOPPY-HAIRED-HAS-BEEN-TWO-FACED WEE NUMPTY HARGREAVES OKAY!?! I’LL SHOW YER HOW TEE GET A RUDDY CASE SOLVED YER WEE WET BLANKET YER!!! *Cough*
It was a typical day. I’d just demolished a crate of Irn Bru and polished off some wee kittens on toast. The only way to start the day right, right!?! The morning meeting with Phelan was due to start, but I just couldnee be arsed to let him oot of his kennel.
“Hey Eric!?! Instead a poppin yer head oot the ruddy clouds and sharing some nonsense aboot crap like yer always do in this ruddy abomination of a ruddy irreverent pile of unmentionables. Why don’t me ‘n’ thee crack open a couple a bottles from the wine cellar and reminisce on the good ol days? Hey?!” “That sounds bon” Eric replied.
Three hours later we were in bits. “…and then you lifted up yer wee collar and yer go, ‘Au revoir’!?! Aurev-ruddy-oir! Those were the days, hey Eric?!” “Haven’t we got some investigating to do boss?” Eric asked. “Are yer effin kiddin on there wee man?! Now everyone knows I’m runnin this detective lark, they’re all investin in pampers, pal!” We looked at each other and fell aboot the office floor laughing in to the wee hours. “You have just reminded me though. There is one thing I wouldn’t mind a bit of help with Eric, If yer can spare me a few hours in yer busy acting schedule, hey?!” “Errmm, I’m sure I can diarise some time, let your people speak with my people”, Eric replied. “I’ll just stop you there pal … I wasn’t asking. NOOOWW GET YER COAT ON AND COME WITH ME AFORE I STITCH ONE ON YER!” Somethin’ was gonna be done and fast!
Unlike Cheese and Owen, we arrived at our destination in no time. I didnee need any pseudo-quasi references to old school communications or ruddy flamin all terrain clap trap. I got in the SAF mobile, put the directions in to the SAF-NAV and here we were – Rafa effin-bollox-fer-brains hoose.
“Looks like he’s got company boss?!” said Eric, as we pulled up outside. “Are yoo effin kiddin on again pal? Rafa? With mates?! I don’t think so!” I replied. “Well look, there’s some kind of party going on.” said Eric, pointing towards the front window. “Ha ha, you fell for it. Have yer seen the film ‘Home Alone’?” “Oui” Eric replied. “Well that’s how Rafa spends his time. He’s got a right ruddy set up in there. Cardboard cut oots of Steven Gerrard on toy trains. Cut oots of Carragher attached to ropes. Trust me he’s all alone! COME ON!!!”
We approached the hoose and gave the door an almighty boot. A quiet voice mumbled from inside, “I’m sorry, but my parents are enjoying the party and I’m not supposed to open the door to strangers”. “Och! Come on Rafa! It’s your old pal Fergie. We know you’re parents aren’t there and you’re all alone”. I shouted back. “No, No, No, I only talk in facts. And the fact is my parents are really here”. “Rafa?!!” I replied. “Just the facts, Mr Ferguson.” “RAFA!” I bellowed. Withoot further ado Eric propped open the letterbox while I ramped up the hairdryer to 11 and well we don’t want to bore you with the ‘facts’ of how he wet his breeches and cried like a wee bairn, now that would only embarrass the obnoxious wee twerp. Needless to say all’s well that ends well. “SO, what’s the plan Sir?” asked Eric. “Plan? What plan?” “What are we doing here?” he asked again. “That was it. We just did it. I answered. “That … That was it?” “AYE!” “Wow” said Eric shaking his head. We headed back to HQ to polish off another couple a bottles of the good stuff. Cheers!
Micky will no doubt be back next month … I might even give him a new sidekick?! Berba’s got a lot of spare time on his hands these days, mind you it’ll take him a ruddy lifetime to pull his finger oot his backside.
(and all that usual drivel that winds this nonsense up!!)