*We join the lads pleased with the draw against West Ham. MON enters*
MON: Defenders well done, nice clean sheet. Midfielders, good battling, some good creative work out there.
*MON starts heading toward his office*
Gabby: And the strikers?
*MON turns back to the players, looking over his glasses*
MON: Strikers? Oh I’m sorry Gabriel I didn’t realise there were any strikers playing!
Gabby: Boss … Are you … angry? Because on the interview you said …
MON: Yes I’m angry, West Ham fielded a 10 year old who looked more of a threat than you three stooges!
Gabby: He’s 18 boss.
MON: Oh so now you choose to be accurate Gabriel!?
Heskey: Boss calm down the vein on your head is ….
MON: Why don’t you shoot Emile?
Heskey: What? Now?
MON: Now?! You don’t even have a ball! I mean on the pitch, you’re a forward for God’s sake act like one.
Heskey: But …. But I bring something different to the table.
MON: ‘But I bring something different to the table’ wah, wah, wah.
*MON feigns rubbing his eyes*
Heskey: You monster!
*Heskey flees from the dressing room hiding his tears with his forearm*
MON: And you, you don’t care do you!?
*MON points at Carew who is filing his nails singing ‘John Carew, Carew’ quietly to himself*
MON: I know you can hear me John!
Carew: he’s gonna score one or two….
MON: John!?
Carew: John Carew, Carew.
MON: Great! You know what this means don’t you? Every Tom, Dick and Harry whining that we need a 20 goal a season super-hero with bionic legs and a telescopic head.
A.Young: Like Inspector Gadget boss?
MON: Yes, like Inspector bloody Gadget! Or some foreign striker they bought on their ‘play box station’ computer game thing!
*Gabby raises his hand*
Gabbys: Boss they’re called …..
*MON removes his glasses, Gabby lowers his hand*
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