It was an ignominous end to a brutal tyranny which has blighted the Premier League for over 42 years, but Manchester United have finally been caught as they considered their future, humiliatingly cowering in a storm drain in Wythenshawe, on the outskirts of Manchester, the place of their birth.
Few expected the once mighty Reds to ever be cornered this way with abundant rumours that after their crushing defeat they would be hiding elsewhere in the vast cultural deserts of southern Cheshire. So the news has come as both a shock and a delight to the many who have come to loathe the once all-powerful Premier Leaders. One of the jubilant captors proudly held up the ‘golden’ boots of Wayne Rooney, shouting ‘Over-head kick that, you spud-faced nipper!’.
Amidst all the celebrations that the oppressors had finally been brought to heel, however, allegations have surfaced questioning the treatment of the players as they staggered, dazed and confused, one by one into the sunlight. Reports are emerging that many of the Manchester City fans who found them openly pointed at them, and many of them laughed and laughed and laughed.
The team’s broken, half lifeless bodies with blank eyes trying to focus on the middle distance are on display on loungers around a swimming pool in a country house hotel awaiting Alex Ferguson’s Post Mortem, with thousands queuing up to have their picture taken next to them and to pay their disrespects. But not everyone is rejoicing, with pockets of fierce resistance continuing in the fanatic Man Utd stronghold of Surrey where Ferguson is still considered a minor deity, and nightclub owners in Manchester itself fearful of a bit of a cashflow crisis.
Apparently, even though many imagined that such a devastating result could only be achieved with NATO involvement, the head of that organisation, Anders Fogh Rasmussen, himself a Man City fan, stated categorically that no such operations were undertaken or indeed needed on the day, ‘because Man Utd played, as we say in Denmark, like ze complete bunch of wussie-bussie-pussies.’
And, wiping tears of emotion from his eyes on this momentous day, he aligned himself with the many who have waited so long for this result by adding; ‘Hahahahaha, hahahaha, ha, hahahahaha, oooh, ooooh, ha….. £200,000 a week? No, no. It is worth much more that that. It is priceless.’