*The victorious Villa lads are celebrating wildly, MON is doing a dance and drinking champagne from the bottle, he’s wearing a tie around his head*
MON: Ho, ho it’s been a while since I’ve done my Wembley jig!
*MON throws his arms around Heskey and Agbonlahor*
MON: You two guys, you’re the best striker pairing since records began!
Heskey: After West Ham you said we were ‘Half-witted eejit’s who couldn’t score with a craft knife’
MON: What!? Me!? Noooo never!
Gabby: You just repeated it at half time!
MON: Well things are different now! Emile, I mean beating the back line and masterfully rounding the keeper in a one-on-one to finish from an acute angle … It’s what you’re all about!
*Heskey nods proudly in agreement’
MON: and Gabby, well no-one gets in the way of our shots and claims them quite like you.
*Gabby looks pleased*
MON: And where’s my defence? My lovely defence?
*The players tentatively raise their hands*
MON: Best defensive display I’ve ever seen.
Dunne: But we conceeded four goals bass! I think that ….
Warnock, Collins & Cuellar: Ssssssssh!!!
Milner: Boss, is that my man of the match champeern like?
MON: Yes James my boy it is, you see in many ways I was the man of the match, I kicked every ball out there tonight.
Milner: Aye but ya dinnae really kick a ball though did ya like?
MON: Oh didn’t I James?
Milner: No.
MON: Oh, but Didn’t I?
Milner: No!
*Milner wrestles the champagne away from MON, Sam Allardyce sticks his head around the door*
Big Sam: ‘allo everywun, I say ‘allo everywun.
MON: Hello Allardyce you miserable, bitter, sore loser.
Big Sam: Well I was gonna ask, I say I was gonna ask where my tie was but I see you have it strapped to your head!
MON: That’s right Allardyce we won the match and your tie so shoo up back up to Blackburn and take your band of thugs with you.
*The Villa Dressing Room Cheers, Carew and NRC enter …. Singing*
Carew: (with bandaged knee): I’ve just been at, a club, with girls.
NRC: I asked my agent, where will I be?
Milner: With so much running, I have a stitch.
MON: I’ve drunk so much I can’t see!
All the Lads (swaying and singing): Que Sera Sera, whatever will be, will be! We’re going to Wemb-er-ly! Que Sera Sera!
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