The Manager In The Window
A thin curl of a smile poked itself across Niklas Bendtners now spoiled mouth. He wiped blood from his leaking lips. It smeared across his visage and teeth.
"It was clear you were never going to make me the 'New Henry', even though my talent deserves it. You loaned me out, they didn't like me, so I came back. I was too big for Arsenal and YOU didn't like it. So I used my superior intelligence to pull the rug from underneath you. If my talent couldn't beat you, then I would make THE FANS hate you. I recruited computer geeks with too much time on their hands to concoct transfer links. Transfer links that would serve only to infuriate the fans as it makes it seem as if you're not active in the market. How can you sign someone who isn't even in talks with you? So the fans would turn slowly, until they realised that you were too small-time for the Club. But you had to go spending and snooping didn't you! You couldn't keep recruiting youngsters on the cheap! You had to get Ozil! Sanchez! Chambers! Then you had the audacity to try and send me to PALACE!!! I should be gracing the Barcelona teamsheet, or Real!! How DARE you treat the Royal Prince of Denmark this way!! I will build up my network of ITK's again! We will dethrone you Arsene!! I would've gotten away with it too, if it weren't for you and that pesky dinosaur!!!"
I took him by his ridiculous ponytail. With excessive force. He yelped but I had no time for his voice, or his procrastinating, nor his protests. I had given him everything he had needed to make it and it still wasn't enough to please him. sometimes, you have to realise that, just like with Anelka, you had to cut your losses and start afresh.
"That iz enough from you. You will be going farr away from 'ere, Niklas. No more connections wiz us, no more trouble. Go lay them at anuzzer clubs doorstep. I 'ereby terrminate your contract. "
Bendtners eyes widened. He sank to the floor.
"What do I do now? Do YOU HEAR ME?!?!? What do I do now?"
GS threw a Huawei mobile at him.
I said to him "Florentino Perez is on ze uzzer end of ze phone. Why don't you ask 'im?".
GS and I left the apartment, and our Danish failure, behind. Permanently.
The drive back to the office was silent again. A sense of moroseness settled over us like an invisible blanket. What a waste of resources. Of talent. If only he had applied himself like Ramsey....
As we pulled up to HQ, the Dame who yearned so desperately for our help at the beginning was standing at the doorway, just as breathtaking as before. She was holding what appeared to be tickets. She walked elegantly toward the driver window. She waited for the window to lower and I obliged. She bent down and her gaping blouse hinted at wonders I could only envisage in my fantastical daydreams.
In a suitable husky tone she said "I know what you've done for me, both of you. I can never repay you for ending my torment but, as a start, hows about coming with me to Brazil for a sunny break? All the beach football and secret negotiations you can shake a stick at! "
GS and I exchanged a glance. Such was our rapport we oft never needed words. It would seem that we were beach bound. I hope we get some good snaps.......
The End?
