IN PRIVATE

So nobody can hear us, you say?

No, Stress, nobody can hear us.

Are you sure?

Yes.

Are you sure?

Yes.

Are you sure?

Yes I'm sure. Nobody can hear us. I've even put In Private on.

What's the In Private On?

It's a function which makes you disappear. Nobody can see what you're doing or hear what you're saying. It's absolutely foolproof.

So the In Private On is on now, is it?

It certainly is, Stress. You can say what you like. Nobody will hear you.

Are you sure?

Don't start that again. Just say what you want to say. Nobody here will judge you.

Well, Pie, you know how delighted I was when MoN was appointed?

Yes, I remember it well. Your ears were bleeding.

Yes, and do you remember that you had doubts about him?

Yes. You called me a farting traitor. You said I was Karanka's whore. I think you were having a fit.

Well, you may have been right.

No need to whisper, Stress. What was that you said?

You may have been right.

Right? About what?

About MoN. I'm not so sure he's the right man, Pie. I'm not even sure he's a good manager.

Well hush my mouth, Stress. What exactly has produced these doubts? Is it just the disappointing results?

No, Pie. I think he may be the Black Spot.

Would that be the fungal disease which attacks roses? Or the pirates' death sentence from Treasure Island?

Don't be silly, Pie. Everybody knows that everything the Black Spot touches turns to soot. Believe me, Pie, I've thought long and hard about this, and I've come to the conclusion that MoN is the Black Spot. Oh I don't suppose he wants to be the Black Spot - I mean, who does? - but everything he touches turns to soot. Look at the last game against Dipswitch. MoN broke up a decent centre back pairing and turned it into soot. He picked that Molly Vague character, and everything he did turned to soot, or some similar waste product. This Vague guy gave away a goal, and couldn't even score the goal he scored. Same with Murphy, who has always been a bit on the sooty side anyway. I tell you, Pie, MoN has got the Black Spot good and proper. He says Yacob has captaincy potential, then doesn't play him. He praises Pele to high heaven, the man's form disintegrates. He says Lolly reminds him of John Robertson - kiss of death for Lolley's goalscoring record. He encourages his players to go and win, then picks a side not to lose. He gees his players up at half time, and their game turns to soot in the second half. It's as if everything he says is contradicted by reality. You watch, Pie. This stuff about getting some decent refereeing decisions sooner or later is virtually guaranteed to make them even worse. Soot, Pie. Everything he touches turns to soot, even referees. I'm beginning to wonder whether he hasn't turned Grabban to soot. The weather's certainly gone sour since he came.

These are harsh and unjustified criticisms, Stress, and although they may contain a grain of soot, they are in general unbalanced and slightly delusional, and I hereby disassociate myself from them.

Ha ha, no need for that, Pie. We've got In Private On on, remember?

Yes, well, about that, Stress...

Gosh, where am I?

What do you mean, Stress?

I remember now - I tripped and fell, banging my head against yonder fire iron. During my dazed state, I may have said many incriminating things about soot, when what I meant to say was that the football under MoN is a remarkable improvement on the dross served up by the Spaniard who shall not be named. I don't see how anybody in his right mind can think differently, but if they do, they can count themselves as no friend of mine.

That's the spirit, Stress. Do the right thing. Keep the faith. Toe the line. That sort of thing. Otherwise people will say it's the fans' fault.

People are funny, aren't they Pie?

Funny as soot, Stress. As Old Uncle Boff used to say - "Better safe than sooty", eh?

Ha ha, Pie!

Ha ha indeed, Stress!

I didn't mean it, all that Black Spot stuff, you know.

Yes you did.

Bugger.

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