Heroes & Villains, the Aston Villa fanzine
Heroes & Villains => Heroes Discussion => Topic started by: Rip Van We Go Again on April 27, 2012, 01:03:14 PM
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With apologies to Squeeze
I never thought it could happen
With me and the club from Aston
But the mess that I’ve got them
Will never be forgotten
I dealt out meagre rations
A team without passions
They said you are lazy
Perhaps I said I may be
I got the job from Randy
He said I'd come in handy
He started me on Sunday
The demos began on Monday
I worked with Peter Grant
Even though his record’s scant
He said he'd been a top star
But that didn’t really get us far
I moved them to basement
With thoughts of relegation
I stayed by the dugout
As many poor games were slug out
I spent my time just pissin'
The good results were missin'
But I had got us fucked up
And all our time it took up
Nothing worked through the winter
The results poor and bitter
I put away a tenner
Each week to make Rangers better
And when the time was ready
We had to sell our Ashley
And make do with the loanee
And little use he turned out to be
Saturday at 4:50
I legged it rather nifty
Down the tunnel lookin’ paler
And thirty minutes later
I gave birth to more excuses
I blamed the supporters’ abuses
I looked a proper ‘nana
As if they needed another
I should’ve been much bolder
I felt the players’ cold shoulder
They left me when my training
Became proper draining
And failure may well take me
From Villa Park to Carey Street
No more nights by the dugout
Being told to get the fuck out
After hearing the fans’ bitching
I feel there's something missing
I'd beg for some forgiveness
Maybe football's not my business
But I won't write the letter
Resignation wouldn’t be better
And so it's my assumption
Villa are really up the junction
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Yawn !......I,m putting ALL my concentration on the positives ( of which , believe me . there are quite a few ) and Villa winning tomorrow but then ....... maybe its because I,ve grown up ........................UTV !.............Godzvilla!
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Whatever you do for a day job - you are wasted
excellent sir
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With apologies to Squeeze
I never thought it could happen
With me and the club from Aston
But the mess that I’ve got them
Will never be forgotten
I dealt out meagre rations
A team without passions
They said you are lazy
Perhaps I said I may be
I got the job from Randy
He said I'd come in handy
He started me on Sunday
The demos began on Monday
I worked with Peter Grant
Even though his record’s scant
He said he'd been a top star
But that didn’t really get us far
I moved them to basement
With thoughts of relegation
I stayed by the dugout
As many poor games were slug out
I spent my time just pissin'
The good results were missin'
But I had got us fucked up
And all our time it took up
Nothing worked through the winter
The results poor and bitter
I put away a tenner
Each week to make Rangers better
And when the time was ready
We had to sell our Ashley
And make do with the loanee
And little use he turned out to be
Saturday at 4:50
I legged it rather nifty
Down the tunnel lookin’ paler
And thirty minutes later
I gave birth to more excuses
I blamed the supporters’ abuses
I looked a proper ‘nana
As if they needed another
I should’ve been much bolder
I felt the players’ cold shoulder
They left me when my training
Became proper draining
And failure may well take me
From Villa Park to Carey Street
No more nights by the dugout
Being told to get the fuck out
After hearing the fans’ bitching
I feel there's something missing
I'd beg for some forgiveness
Maybe football's not my business
But I won't write the letter
Resignation wouldn’t be better
And so it's my assumption
Villa are really up the junction
God help us as soon as the AM fan club read this !!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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Bravo Fletch.
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Brilliant !!
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You could get an album out of this stuff! "Villa Park: The Mcleish Nightmare"! :-)
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With apologies to Squeeze
I never thought it could happen
With me and the club from Aston
But the mess that I’ve got them
Will never be forgotten
I dealt out meagre rations
A team without passions
They said you are lazy
Perhaps I said I may be
I got the job from Randy
He said I'd come in handy
He started me on Sunday
The demos began on Monday
I worked with Peter Grant
Even though his record’s scant
He said he'd been a top star
But that didn’t really get us far
I moved them to basement
With thoughts of relegation
I stayed by the dugout
As many poor games were slug out
I spent my time just pissin'
The good results were missin'
But I had got us fucked up
And all our time it took up
Nothing worked through the winter
The results poor and bitter
I put away a tenner
Each week to make Rangers better
And when the time was ready
We had to sell our Ashley
And make do with the loanee
And little use he turned out to be
Saturday at 4:50
I legged it rather nifty
Down the tunnel lookin’ paler
And thirty minutes later
I gave birth to more excuses
I blamed the supporters’ abuses
I looked a proper ‘nana
As if they needed another
I should’ve been much bolder
I felt the players’ cold shoulder
They left me when my training
Became proper draining
And failure may well take me
From Villa Park to Carey Street
No more nights by the dugout
Being told to get the fuck out
After hearing the fans’ bitching
I feel there's something missing
I'd beg for some forgiveness
Maybe football's not my business
But I won't write the letter
Resignation wouldn’t be better
And so it's my assumption
Villa are really up the junction
God help us as soon as the AM fan club read this !!!!!!!!!!!!!!
There isn't an 'AM fan club', just a 'WarleyWonder is an idiot fan club'.
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Warley Wonder, are you really from Warley?
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After the 5-1 win over Small Heath a few years ago I penned the following
There's a Scotsman working at The Sty
He'd like to come and beat us
But I think his team's too shite
It was funny at the time, I thought.
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Brilliant !!
Changed your tune have we ??
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Brilliant !!
Changed your tune have we ??
From what?
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Warley Wonder, are you really from Warley?
He seems to manage to break into the IT classroom about the same time every day
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Brilliant !!
Changed your tune have we ??
This is the "fellow" villa fan who never says I told you so.
He's giving us individual "I told you so" service now.
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Warley Wonder, are you really from Warley?
It's probably because of my locality (e.g. nowhere near the midlands), but whenever I read WW's name and comments on whichever thread, I inevitably think of him tapping away somewhere in the bowels of this 'Warley' a few miles away -
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Warley_Hospital
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WarleyWonder - I want McLeish out as much as anybody, but you sir, are an absolute tit.
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WarleyWonder - I want McLeish out as much as anybody, but you sir, are an absolute tit
You've changed your tune, fellow Villan
I was telling everyone on here how much of a tit was is back in September but nobody would listen to me.
I told you so, etc...
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With apologies to Squeeze
I never thought it could happen
With me and the club from Aston
But the mess that Ive got them
Will never be forgotten
I dealt out meagre rations
A team without passions
They said you are lazy
Perhaps I said I may be
I got the job from Randy
He said I'd come in handy
He started me on Sunday
The demos began on Monday
I worked with Peter Grant
Even though his records scant
He said he'd been a top star
But that didnt really get us far
I moved them to basement
With thoughts of relegation
I stayed by the dugout
As many poor games were slug out
I spent my time just pissin'
The good results were missin'
But I had got us fucked up
And all our time it took up
Nothing worked through the winter
The results poor and bitter
I put away a tenner
Each week to make Rangers better
And when the time was ready
We had to sell our Ashley
And make do with the loanee
And little use he turned out to be
Saturday at 4:50
I legged it rather nifty
Down the tunnel lookin paler
And thirty minutes later
I gave birth to more excuses
I blamed the supporters abuses
I looked a proper nana
As if they needed another
I shouldve been much bolder
I felt the players cold shoulder
They left me when my training
Became proper draining
And failure may well take me
From Villa Park to Carey Street
No more nights by the dugout
Being told to get the fuck out
After hearing the fans bitching
I feel there's something missing
I'd beg for some forgiveness
Maybe football's not my business
But I won't write the letter
Resignation wouldnt be better
And so it's my assumption
Villa are really up the junction
Brilliant, a cracking tune but a shame its so apt for the idiot McLeish.
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Nice one Fletch, here's my attempt...
The Human Football League
You were working as a Bluenose in a fucked up club
When I met you
I picked you out, paid off the Blues, and turned you around
Turned you into claret and blue
Now one year later on you've fucked up over again
Success is something you can't do
But don't forget it's me who put you where you are now
And I can fuck you right off too
Don't, don't you want me?
You know I can't believe it, it's the players, it's the referees
Don't, don't you want me?
You know I don't believe it, it's the coaches, it's the injuries
It's much too late to find
You think you've changed your mind
You'd better change it back or give me all your money
Don't you want me Randy? Don't you want me? Ohhhh shit!
Don't you want me Randy? Don't you want me? Ohhhh shit!
I was working as a Bluenose in a fucked up club
That much is true
But even then I knew I'd find a much better place
How hard was that to do?
The one year we have had have been such bad times
Bad luck it's true
The falling gates are not my fault the seats are too hard
Get cushions is what you must do
Don't, don't you want me?
You know I can't believe it, it's the media, it just wasn't me
Don't, don't you want me?
You know I don't believe it, it's the fans, they never took to me
It's much too late to find
You think you've changed your mind
You'd better change it back or give me all your money
Don't you want me Randy? Don't you want me? Ohhhh shit!
Don't you want me Randy? Don't you want me? Ohhhh shit!
Don't you want me Randy? Don't you want me? Ohhhh shit!
Don't you want me Randy? Don't you want me? Ohhhh shit!
(Repeat four times and fade)
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Is this where we vote for which song we want Engelbert to sing in Baku?
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Very good James!
I tried and failed to rewrite "Letter From America" as "Letter From Ferguson" earlier.
The best I could do was the closing lines, thus:
When you go will you send back, a letter from Ferguson?
Take a look up the M6, from Aston to Small Heath
Liverpool no more, Sunderland no more
Swansea no more, Stoke no more
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Very good James!
I tried and failed to rewrite "Letter From America" as "Letter From Ferguson" earlier.
The best I could do was the closing lines, thus:
When you go will you send back, a letter from Ferguson?
Take a look up the M6, from Aston to Small Heath
Liverpool no more, Sunderland no more
Swansea no more, Stoke no more
C,mon Martin, you can do the rest.
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Here's my song for UEFA
To the tune of "Tragedy" by the Bee Gees (or Steps if you're a puff)
Villa Park
Is a lost and lonely part of town
Now that we are managed by a ginger clown
Lost at home
I'm on my protest all alone
We beat the Wolves at Molinuex, Molineuex, Mo-ho-li-neux
Dazzy G,
Till McLeish has gone he just can't on
It's Dazzy G
When we drew with Stoke he lost all his hope
It's hard to bear,
With Ginger and Randy we're going nowhere
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Very good Chico.
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Great effort Chico.
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Bravo Risso and Chico!
This reminds me of a summer under DOL when I think the transfer thread turned into a musical medley! ;D
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(Agadoo)
'Eck's no clue, clue, clue
Puts on Heskey-Warnock too.
Eck's no clue, clue, clue
Free transfers-Hutton too
Lerner knew, knew, knew
We would hate him thru and thru.
H&V view, view ,view
Here comes Divisions One & Two.
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I was going to do one to the Towers of London: Fuck it Up. But am far too lazy. Or Puddle of Mudd and change it to McLeish Hates Me. Again, laziness prevailed.
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It's apathy and laziness like that that's got us into this mess! Pull yer finger out! ;)
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It's apathy and laziness like that that's got us into this mess! Pull yer finger out! ;)
I might just go for a snooze instead. Hopefully i'll wake up in the shower and this whole season will have been a dream.
Knowing my luck though it won't be Pam opening the shower door but Miss Ellie.
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Excellent stuff.
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Unhappy Hour by The Housemartinoneillisacunts - from their album London 0 - Villa 0
It's unhappy hour again
I think I might be happy if we weren't managed by them
We're not happy, it's a miserable place to be
Unhappy that we play Emile, nearly in the bottom three
Where the opposition smile
And the meaning of style
Is a one one draw with Stoke
Where you draw or you lose
And its Emile you choose
And if you don't draw then you've lost
What a shit place to be
Don't believe it
'Cause we're in a relgation scrap
and it's never really happened to me
{It's unhappy hour again}
Don't believe it oh no
'Cause its never really happened to me
{It's unhappy hour again}
oh woe woe
It's another game ending in a loss
Thanks to our disaster of a boss
And Lerner tells us, that money doesn't grow on trees
We used to be top six, but now we're on our knees
Where Lerner's closed his wallet
And we're bored out of our minds
And it's driving us all to drink
And then we ask all the questions
And Faulkner doesn't know the answers
It's time to have a rethink
What a shit place to be
Don't believe her
'Cause we're in a relgation scrap
And it's never really happened to me
{It's unhappy hour again}
Don't believe her oh no
'Cause its never really happened to me
{It's unhappy hour again}
woe woe woe woe
Its the same threads on here again, and again, and again
Its the same threads on here again, and again, and again
Its the same threads on here again, and again, and again
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Marvellous.
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Watching the Holte End get lairy
Is not very pretty I tell thee
With McSheesh in charge it's quite scary
And not very sensible either
By Bolton reseves we got beaten
Earlier on in the season
Again in the week,stands to reason
The fucker has got to go
I predict a riot, I predict a riot
I predict a riot, I predict a riot
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With apologies to Squeeze
I never thought it could happen
With me and the club from Aston
But the mess that Ive got them
Will never be forgotten
I dealt out meagre rations
A team without passions
They said you are lazy
Perhaps I said I may be
I got the job from Randy
He said I'd come in handy
He started me on Sunday
The demos began on Monday
I worked with Peter Grant
Even though his records scant
He said he'd been a top star
But that didnt really get us far
I moved them to basement
With thoughts of relegation
I stayed by the dugout
As many poor games were slug out
I spent my time just pissin'
The good results were missin'
But I had got us fucked up
And all our time it took up
Nothing worked through the winter
The results poor and bitter
I put away a tenner
Each week to make Rangers better
And when the time was ready
We had to sell our Ashley
And make do with the loanee
And little use he turned out to be
Saturday at 4:50
I legged it rather nifty
Down the tunnel lookin paler
And thirty minutes later
I gave birth to more excuses
I blamed the supporters abuses
I looked a proper nana
As if they needed another
I shouldve been much bolder
I felt the players cold shoulder
They left me when my training
Became proper draining
And failure may well take me
From Villa Park to Carey Street
No more nights by the dugout
Being told to get the fuck out
After hearing the fans bitching
I feel there's something missing
I'd beg for some forgiveness
Maybe football's not my business
But I won't write the letter
Resignation wouldnt be better
And so it's my assumption
Villa are really up the junction
Quality!! (as was the origonal!)
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EXCELLENT , especially how you SQUEEZED your own words in ... ;)
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very good , Risso...
sadly, i doubt we are going to 'Grin Ourselves to Death' under McLeish...
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Exellent - I'd like to respond with my own Squeeze tribute with verse one of Labelled With Love (I'd do more but the missus is putting my tea out).
He unscrews the top of a new whiskey bottle
And shuffles about in his millionaires mansion
Like some kind of witch with Blues fingers in mittens
He smells like defeat and the Villains he sickens
The old fashioned tactics are something to picture
Defeat or a draw are a permanent fixture
The postman delivers a sack full of hate mail
He sells off our future and trousers his bankroll
Is this a new sport - McSqueezing or something? Who's next with Cool for Twa*s
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(Agadoo)
Randy bumped into Mcleish somewhere in Small Heath
Well he was getting demoted with Birmingham City
So when Randy said to Alex "Come over to Villa Park"
Alex said 2 mill a year, yes that would be such a lark
And now we're getting no goals
The defense has gone
After another shit game
We'll all be singing this song...
'Eck's no clue, clue, clue
Puts on Heskey-Warnock too.
Eck's no clue, clue, clue
Free transfers-Hutton too
Lerner knew, knew, knew
We would hate him thru and thru.
H&V view, view ,view
Here comes Divisions One & Two.
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Unhappy Hour by The Housemartinoneillisacunts - from their album London 0 - Villa 0
It's unhappy hour again
I think I might be happy if we weren't managed by them
We're not happy, it's a miserable place to be
Unhappy that we play Emile, nearly in the bottom three
Where the opposition smile
And the meaning of style
Is a one one draw with Stoke
Where you draw or you lose
And its Emile you choose
And if you don't draw then you've lost
What a shit place to be
Don't believe it
'Cause we're in a relgation scrap
and it's never really happened to me
{It's unhappy hour again}
Don't believe it oh no
'Cause its never really happened to me
{It's unhappy hour again}
oh woe woe
It's another game ending in a loss
Thanks to our disaster of a boss
And Lerner tells us, that money doesn't grow on trees
We used to be top six, but now we're on our knees
Where Lerner's closed his wallet
And we're bored out of our minds
And it's driving us all to drink
And then we ask all the questions
And Faulkner doesn't know the answers
It's time to have a rethink
What a shit place to be
Don't believe her
'Cause we're in a relgation scrap
And it's never really happened to me
{It's unhappy hour again}
Don't believe her oh no
'Cause its never really happened to me
{It's unhappy hour again}
woe woe woe woe
Its the same threads on here again, and again, and again
Its the same threads on here again, and again, and again
Its the same threads on here again, and again, and again
very good Indeed! A chickle to mtself as I sang/read it!1
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With apologies to Squeeze
I never thought it could happen
With me and the club from Aston
But the mess that I’ve got them
Will never be forgotten
I dealt out meagre rations
A team without passions
They said you are lazy
Perhaps I said I may be
I got the job from Randy
He said I'd come in handy
He started me on Sunday
The demos began on Monday
I worked with Peter Grant
Even though his record’s scant
He said he'd been a top star
But that didn’t really get us far
I moved them to basement
With thoughts of relegation
I stayed by the dugout
As many poor games were slug out
I spent my time just pissin'
The good results were missin'
But I had got us fucked up
And all our time it took up
Nothing worked through the winter
The results poor and bitter
I put away a tenner
Each week to make Rangers better
And when the time was ready
We had to sell our Ashley
And make do with the loanee
And little use he turned out to be
Saturday at 4:50
I legged it rather nifty
Down the tunnel lookin’ paler
And thirty minutes later
I gave birth to more excuses
I blamed the supporters’ abuses
I looked a proper ‘nana
As if they needed another
I should’ve been much bolder
I felt the players’ cold shoulder
They left me when my training
Became proper draining
And failure may well take me
From Villa Park to Carey Street
No more nights by the dugout
Being told to get the fuck out
After hearing the fans’ bitching
I feel there's something missing
I'd beg for some forgiveness
Maybe football's not my business
But I won't write the letter
Resignation wouldn’t be better
And so it's my assumption
Villa are really up the junction
God help us as soon as the AM fan club read this !!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Joking aside who do you think his fan club is? No I really am joking, surely there can't be anyone left who thinks he should stay.
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Let's see how he gets on with some investment.
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Let's see how he gets on with some investment.
Who's that by?
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Let's see how he gets on with some investment.
Who's that by?
I don't know, but if you hum the tune it we'll sing it.
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Let's see how he gets on with some investment.
Thank you General Crooklock.
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Let's see how he gets on with some investment.
I'll start with a fiver and I'll order the taxi for 5 o'clock at the Hawthorns.
The more pledged, the further away from the Villa he goes.
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One from Alice Cooper. And no words changed or added.
Welcome to my nightmare, I think you're gonna like it, I think you're gonna feel you belong.
A nocturnal vacation, unnecessary sedation, you want to feel at home 'cause you belong.
Welcome to my nightmare whoa, ho, ho, ho...
Welcome to my breakdown.
I hope I didn't scare you.
That's just the way we are when we come down.
We sweat and laugh and scream here.
'Cause life is just a dream here.
You know inside you feel right at home, here.
Welcome to my breakdown, whoa, ho, ho, ho...
Yeah welcome to my nightmare, yeah eah eah eah
Welcome to my nightmare
I think you're gonna like it!
I think you're gonna feel you belong!
We sweat and laugh and scream here!
'Cause life is just a dream here!
You know inside you feel right at home, here!
Welcome to my nightmare hoo, hoo, woo, hoo...
Welcome to my breakdown...
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BIG 'ECK
An Operatic Fantasy in Three Parts
Starring
CHRIS SMITH (Rene from the BBC's 'Oullier 'Oullier) as OPTIMISTERON PRIME
and featuring the return of
THE GNASHER (In 3d for the first time)
EPISODE ONE
Scene One: Villa Park. A West Midlands double-decker bus is parked in the penalty area at the Holte End. Standing next to the bus is General Krulak. He holds a megaphone is his hands. Standing next to General Krulak is Paul Faulkner. He holds a placard in his hands.
SONG: Tragical History Tour.
KRULAK: Roll up! Roll up for the Tragical History Tour! Step right this way!
FAULKNER: Roll up! Roll up for the History Tour! Roll up! Roll up for the History Tour! Roll up!
CRULAK: This is an imprecation.
FAULKNER: Roll up for the History Tour.
CRULAK: Support our teen sensations.
Faulkner holds up a placard saying 'Imagine what he could do with the backing of the board'.
FAULKNER: Roll up for the History Tour!
CRULAK: The Tragical History Tour is waiting to take some of your pay.
FAULKNER: Taking your hard-earned away. Roll up! Roll up for the History Tour. Roll up! Roll up for the History Tour! Roll up!
CRULAK: We've got everyone we need.
FAULKNER: Roll up for the History Tour!
CRULAK: Fourth place is almost guaranteed.
Faulkner holds up a placard saying 'Imagine 34% possession - it isn't hard to do'.
FAULKNER: Roll up for the History Tour!
CRULAK: The Tragical History Tour is hoping to take you away.
FAULKNER: Taking away all of your hope.
Crulak takes out a trumpet marked 'property of LERNER R' and blows it for several hours.
FADE TO BLACK
Scene Two: The basement of the Meeting House Restaurant in Amagansett. Randy Lerner sits atop of a large pile of Dollars, Pound Sterling and discarded season-tickets.
Song: The Fool and his Pile.
The Gnasher crashes in through the ceiling and then using his Anti-Gravity-Boots hovers next to Lerner. Lerner appears not to notice he is there.
Gnasher: day after day alone with his pile the man with foolish whim regrets an ulsterman's guile.
Enter the Gnasherites. They wear the traditional uniform of the followers of The Gnasher - Chelsea shirts and hats that resemble satellite dishes.
PAULIEWALNUTS: But nobody wants to know him.
OZZJIM: They can see that he's just a fool.
FERGAL BENT: And he never gives an answer.
GNASHER: but the fool with his pile sees his side going down and just can't realise that McLeish is a clown.
well on the way to the Championship the man with the muleish mien seems not to give much of a shit.
PAULIEWALNUTS: But nobody seems to hear him.
OZZJIM: Or the sounds he appears not to make.
FERGAL BENT: And he never seems to notice.
GNASHER: but the fool and his pile sees his stock going down and the spies in his camp see the world tumbling round.
Enter Nick Lees. He carries a Latvian goat-worriers nose flute. He plays a solo for 37 minutes.
PAULIEWALNUTS: He never listens to them.
OZZJIM: He knows that they're the fools.
FERGAL BENT: They don't like him.
GNASHER: the fool and his pile sees his side Championship bound and the size of his debt keeps his mind spinning round.
All: Down! Down! Down! Down!
Lerner throws scarves with the legend 'Record Breaking Season' and return coach tickets to Charlton to the Gnasherites.
FADE TO BLACK
Scene three: Legion's house. He sits on the floor surrounded by empty beer bottles.
Song: Buying.
Legion drinks a bottle of beer and begins writing in a notebook.
LEGION: A bottle of General's Old Guff. Insubstantial frothy stuff. As if with honey laced but left a horrid after-taste.
At this point a suitcase containing a horse-shoe, a sprig of lucky heather and a rabbit's foot falls out of the cargo hold of a passing 747. It falls through Legion's roof and hits him on the head, knocking him unconscious. Luckily for Legion the main force of the falling suitcase is broken by his collection of Tangible Drear lps.
FADE TO BLACK
Scene Four: The Holte End. Aston Villa v Chelsea.
Song: Blue May Day.
Chris Smith sits in the Holte End surrounded by his loyal Smithies.
CHRIS: There's problem in B6. My beloved team is in a fix. Fourth or fifth is what they said. Now we're down with Wolves instead.
VILLAJK: Please don't be tame.
HAWKEYE: Please don't you play bloody lame.
AFTAB: Game after game.
All: Or we may fall asleep.
Warnock hoofs the ball into his own net.
Enter The Gnasher. He hovers in front of Chris.
GNASHER: well it only goes to show how much the gnasher's in the know. i said mon's legacy a curse. fuck me mcleish has made it worse.
Warnock heads the ball into his own net.
Enter the Gnasherites.
PAULIEWALNUTS: You are so right.
OZZJIM: Your insights are so out of sight.
FERGAL BENT: We've seen the light.
PAULIEWALNUTS: And now we are your sheep.
Warnock cracks a left footer against the Chelsea bar. It rebounds 100 yards into the Villa net.
CHRIS: McLeish is crap that is a fact. But woe betide your lack of tact. I've defeated you before. It seems I must do so just once more.
Chris takes out his Optimiser Ray Gun and begins shooting at The Gnasher.
GNASHER: it won't be long before mclueless too is gone just like with mon his managership i will reap.
The Gnasher takes out his Wastertron and sets the fuse for ten seconds.
CUT
Chris Smith - Johnny Depp
The Gnasher was operated by Kenny Baker voice by Stephen Hawking.
Legion - Peter Sellers
Randy Lerner - Harry Worth
Nick Lees - Yul Brynner
Crulak - Kenneth Williams
Faulkner - Charles Hawtrey
Other parts were played by members of the cast. villajk appears by kind permission of Threshers.
-
Nice work, Ron.
I suppose you know that The Gnasher will be calling you an oddball.
-
My little cameo is uncannily realistic.
-
BIG 'ECK
An Operatic Fantasy in Three Parts
Starring
CHRIS SMITH (Rene from the BBC's 'Oullier 'Oullier) as OPTIMISTERON PRIME
and featuring the return of
THE GNASHER (In 3d for the first time)
EPISODE ONE
Scene One: Villa Park. A West Midlands double-decker bus is parked in the penalty area at the Holte End. Standing next to the bus is General Krulak. He holds a megaphone is his hands. Standing next to General Krulak is Paul Faulkner. He holds a placard in his hands.
SONG: Tragical History Tour.
KRULAK: Roll up! Roll up for the Tragical History Tour! Step right this way!
FAULKNER: Roll up! Roll up for the History Tour! Roll up! Roll up for the History Tour! Roll up!
CRULAK: This is an imprecation.
FAULKNER: Roll up for the History Tour.
CRULAK: Support our teen sensations.
Faulkner holds up a placard saying 'Imagine what he could do with the backing of the board'.
FAULKNER: Roll up for the History Tour!
CRULAK: The Tragical History Tour is waiting to take some of your pay.
FAULKNER: Taking your hard-earned away. Roll up! Roll up for the History Tour. Roll up! Roll up for the History Tour! Roll up!
CRULAK: We've got everyone we need.
FAULKNER: Roll up for the History Tour!
CRULAK: Fourth place is almost guaranteed.
Faulkner holds up a placard saying 'Imagine 34% possession - it isn't hard to do'.
FAULKNER: Roll up for the History Tour!
CRULAK: The Tragical History Tour is hoping to take you away.
FAULKNER: Taking away all of your hope.
Crulak takes out a trumpet marked 'property of LERNER R' and blows it for several hours.
FADE TO BLACK
Scene Two: The basement of the Meeting House Restaurant in Amagansett. Randy Lerner sits atop of a large pile of Dollars, Pound Sterling and discarded season-tickets.
Song: The Fool and his Pile.
The Gnasher crashes in through the ceiling and then using his Anti-Gravity-Boots hovers next to Lerner. Lerner appears not to notice he is there.
Gnasher: day after day alone with his pile the man with foolish whim regrets an ulsterman's guile.
Enter the Gnasherites. They wear the traditional uniform of the followers of The Gnasher - Chelsea shirts and hats that resemble satellite dishes.
PAULIEWALNUTS: But nobody wants to know him.
OZZJIM: They can see that he's just a fool.
FERGAL BENT: And he never gives an answer.
GNASHER: but the fool with his pile sees his side going down and just can't realise that McLeish is a clown.
well on the way to the Championship the man with the muleish mien seems not to give much of a shit.
PAULIEWALNUTS: But nobody seems to hear him.
OZZJIM: Or the sounds he appears not to make.
FERGAL BENT: And he never seems to notice.
GNASHER: but the fool and his pile sees his stock going down and the spies in his camp see the world tumbling round.
Enter Nick Lees. He carries a Latvian goat-worriers nose flute. He plays a solo for 37 minutes.
PAULIEWALNUTS: He never listens to them.
OZZJIM: He knows that they're the fools.
FERGAL BENT: They don't like him.
GNASHER: the fool and his pile sees his side Championship bound and the size of his debt keeps his mind spinning round.
All: Down! Down! Down! Down!
Lerner throws scarves with the legend 'Record Breaking Season' and return coach tickets to Charlton to the Gnasherites.
FADE TO BLACK
Scene three: Legion's house. He sits on the floor surrounded by empty beer bottles.
Song: Buying.
Legion drinks a bottle of beer and begins writing in a notebook.
LEGION: A bottle of General's Old Guff. Insubstantial frothy stuff. As if with honey laced but left a horrid after-taste.
At this point a suitcase containing a horse-shoe, a sprig of lucky heather and a rabbit's foot falls out of the cargo hold of a passing 747. It falls through Legion's roof and hits him on the head, knocking him unconscious. Luckily for Legion the main force of the falling suitcase is broken by his collection of Tangible Drear lps.
FADE TO BLACK
Scene Four: The Holte End. Aston Villa v Chelsea.
Song: Blue May Day.
Chris Smith sits in the Holte End surrounded by his loyal Smithies.
CHRIS: There's problem in B6. My beloved team is in a fix. Fourth or fifth is what they said. Now we're down with Wolves instead.
VILLAJK: Please don't be tame.
HAWKEYE: Please don't you play bloody lame.
AFTAB: Game after game.
All: Or we may fall asleep.
Warnock hoofs the ball into his own net.
Enter The Gnasher. He hovers in front of Chris.
GNASHER: well it only goes to show how much the gnasher's in the know. i said mon's legacy a curse. fuck me mcleish has made it worse.
Warnock heads the ball into his own net.
Enter the Gnasherites.
PAULIEWALNUTS: You are so right.
OZZJIM: Your insights are so out of sight.
FERGAL BENT: We've seen the light.
PAULIEWALNUTS: And now we are your sheep.
Warnock cracks a left footer against the Chelsea bar. It rebounds 100 yards into the Villa net.
CHRIS: McLeish is crap that is a fact. But woe betide your lack of tact. I've defeated you before. It seems I must do so just once more.
Chris takes out his Optimiser Ray Gun and begins shooting at The Gnasher.
GNASHER: it won't be long before mclueless too is gone just like with mon his managership i will reap.
The Gnasher takes out his Wastertron and sets the fuse for ten seconds.
CUT
Chris Smith - Johnny Depp
The Gnasher was operated by Kenny Baker voice by Stephen Hawking.
Legion - Peter Sellers
Randy Lerner - Harry Worth
Nick Lees - Yul Brynner
Crulak - Kenneth Williams
Faulkner - Charles Hawtrey
Other parts were played by members of the cast. villajk appears by kind permission of Threshers.
Brilliant. And fame at last. Good advertising for Threshers there. Mind you, I get the bulk of my wine from Tescos or Makro.
-
One from Alice Cooper. And no words changed or added.
Welcome to my nightmare, I think you're gonna like it, I think you're gonna feel you belong.
A nocturnal vacation, unnecessary sedation, you want to feel at home 'cause you belong.
Welcome to my nightmare whoa, ho, ho, ho...
I vote for this - operatic Alice at his best captures the mood.
-
i don't care why he's leaving or where he's gonna go
i guess he's got his reasons, but i just don't wanna know
'cuz for a season now we've been putting up with Alex
Alex who the fuck is Alex?
Playing shit football and not creating a chance,
tell him how we feel, maybe we get a second chance;
I cant wait to be getting rid of Alex
Alex who the fuck is Alex?
Who the fuck is Alex?
Who the fuck is Aliex
Who the fuck is Alex?
It's Alex
It's Alex
Who the fuck is Alex?
Who the fuck is Alex?
Who the fuck is Alex?
-
Judging by this, he doesn't have much of a singing career ahead of him either:
-
the perfect song that completely encapsulates McLeish's reign.
-
I was doing a man's cry last night while watching my favourite episode of Homes Under the Hammer and thinking about all the boys at the weekend when I came up with this song for Alex. Sing it loud and proud to the tune of BBC's Top Gear (not the one on Dave)
Get behind the boys and that man called Alex McLeish.
Now is not the time to be sad or to be angry.
As I said on a recent visit to Villa Park, "You must use the right
channels to expose those organisations that go out for a dirty touch."
I shouted at Randy Lerner: "Should You Combine Your Personal and
Business Social Media Identities?"
He turned and cried, before whispering something in Polish.
He was quietly fuming at passive aggressive nonsense. Is that passive
aggressive? Ooh, how meta.
So, I went to the VIP lounge in the Trinity Road stand and got my King
Sausage out.
"Phwaaang," went my King Sausage, as it hit several Villa legends in the face.
"This is utter bollocks," said DJ Tony Blackburn, while flicking the
litttle ball on his RIM BlackBerry.
"Intense pleasure, intense," he moaned, before leaving the room to
retire to the toilet for a man's shit.
That's when I realised something was wrong. I could smell eggs and I
looked round to see a couple of the gang - Legion, Woodhall and Risso
- cooking a fry-up.
Lerner got right in there, polishing off the eggs before going big for
the waffles. "Tits and piss," I shouted, before turning round and
licking my little end.
It was what Ken Bruce and Stuart Gray would have wanted.
-
Inspired work Glenn, as always.
-
BIG 'ECK
EPISODE TWO
Scene Five: Dave W's house.
Song: The Muppet Must Go.
Dave W is going through the letters to H&V. He reads them aloud to DC5 (who has popped round to borrow a cup of tranquilizers) and villajk (who has popped round to open a bottle of wine).
DAVE W: 'Let's all sit down and work up a letter to describe the very fucked-off way we all feel. Dear Mr Lerner, he's worse than Billy McNeill. Say that you know the muppet must go'.
DC5: Oh not again.
DAVE W: 'Let's all stand up and march to a demo so that inner doubts and fears are revealed. We'd never thought we'd miss Martin O'Neill. This is worse than Doc Jo. The muppet must go'.
villajk opens a bottle of Macro House Special.
Fade to Black
Scene Six: Villa Park.
Song: I Am The Ostrich.
Alex McLeish has superglued himself to the home bench in preparation for the next day's match.
MCLEISH: I'm Big 'Eck. So get to feck. I'm sitting here 'til I get my big fat pay off check.
See how I'll run with a thank you to the bank you'll see me fly. I'm crying.
Sitting on a ticking time-bomb waiting for the bang to come.
Richard fat-arsed pie man Martin's bloody my man.
Man you wouldn't let it lie you let your face grow long.
I am the 'Eck Man.
They are the 'Eck Men.
I am the Ostrich.
Och Aye the Noo.
Sitting on a bench just playing for a nil-nil draw.
If their side's Elite we try to keep it down to three or four.
Enter the Gnasherites.
GNASHERITES: Oompah lumpah you red faced puddle jumper.
Overcome by the superglue fumes McLeish slowly slips into unconsciousness.
Scene Six: The same.
Song: Hello Goodbye.
Enter The Gnasher. His waffle-seeking Wastertron bomb has back-fired on him and there is significant damage to his Anti-Reality Helmet.
Enter Chris Smith. He has transformed into Optimisteron Prime.
CHRIS: You say 'meh'. I say yeah. You say 'larf' and I say ho ho ho.
You say we're down but I say not so.
Chris takes out his logic-gun and begins to fire at The Gnasher. By using a number of outstandingly athletic U turns The Gnasher manages not to get hit.
GNASHER: You say wait. I say why? You say 'cos. And I say Fie Fie Fie.
You say the youth and I say it's hoof.
The Gnasher takes out his ultimate weapon the Circular Argumentratron and sets the fuse for five seconds.
GNASHER: You say hello but I say goodbye.
Cut
Dave W - Steven Berkoff
DC5 - Cliff Richard
villajk - Una Stubbs
-
Excellent yet again, ronshirt.
I'm enjoying all this wine drinking. Hic!
-
Some people might say my team is in a rut
But it's nil-nil I'm happy what I've got
People might say that I should strive for more
But I'm so happy with another point.
Nothing's happening here today,
No show of strength from our boys brigade,
And I'm so happy and Randy's kind,
He's got no money, of course I don't mind,
I'd only buy Hutton or another kind,
And Randy gets what Randy wants
But I want nothing so I got the job.
Going further down (Going further down)
Well let the youth team play at an empty ground
Going further down (Going further down)
Well let the Holte End sing and let the Holte End shout for my sacking.
Some people might get some pleasure out of cups,
Me, I've enough trouble just staying up,
People might need some tension to relax,
Me, I'm too busy trying to dodge the sack.
And what you see is what you get,
You've made your bed you better lie in it
You choose your leaders and place your trust
As their lies wash you down and their promises rust
You'll see Downing and Ash replaced by bundles of cash.
And Randy gets what Randy wants,
Given and Hutton and a pissed off N'Zog
Going further down (Going further down)
Let the youth team play at an empty ground
Going further down (going further down)
Let the Holte End sing and let the Holte End shout for my sacking.
We talk and I talk until my head explodes
But then the team play like their bodies froze
Those braying sheep in the Holte End seats
Only hate me because I'm from Small Heath.
-
Very good Perce.
And scarily accurate.
-
Living next door to Alice. Smokie.
Oh, I don't know why he's leaving
Or where he's gonna go,
We know there's lots of reasons,
But I just don't wanna know,
'cos for thirty eight games - I've been living each draw with Alex.
thirty eight games waiting to advance,
to tell him how I feel, when we're wasting every chance
now i wanna get used to not living each draw with Alex
-
Very good Perce.
And scarily accurate.
Cheers Fletch, not as good as your 'Stan' mind. That was better than the original.
-
I will work on an Alice one but reckon "I don't know why he's here, I don't care where he goes" is how it should start.
-
"I can't grasp what we were thinking, when we signed up the useless Nose"...
Maybe, "because for 36 games, we've had to put up with Alex"
-
Alice: I was just using the original lyrics as a base. So it sounded the same. Needs work so have fun! I did try and fit "bore" in there to rhyme with the origional next "door". But me tea was getting cold.
-
Let's see how he gets on with some investment.
No, let's not.
-
BIG 'ECK
Episode Three
Scene Eight: The home dugout at Villa Park.
Song: Bloomfield Road.
McLeish, rendered unconscious by super glue fumes, has been awoken by the explosion of The Gnasher's Circular Argumentratron Bomb.
MCLEISH: Let me take you down
You'll be going to Vicarage Road
The Boleyn Ground
Riverside and Molineux
Hillsborough, Oakdale and Deepdale.
Relegation's not easy
Especially two teams in a row
With added zest
I did my best
Although I think you know
Next year I'll have another go.
Let me take you down
You'll be going to Boundary Park
Kenilworth Road
Edgeley Park and Edgar Street
Priestfield and Kingfield and Sixfields.
Scene Nine: The roof of the Doug Ellis Stand.
Song: Witton Lane.
The explosion has blown The Gnasher up onto the roof of the Doug Ellis Stand. He stands unsteadily whilst coolant pours from his logic-circuits. Optimisteron Proime, unaffected by the Catch - 22 radiation, jets up easily to the roof.
CHRIS: In Witton Lane there was a chippy near the old Holte End
It opened up one Sunday morning while we queued
For semi-final tickets vee man you
One nine seven two.
Now on the corner there's a clan where stands a fanzine man
Who's only aim's to make an honest bob or two
He likes to listen to krautrock, that's true
But better him than you.
Witton Lane is in my eyes and in my ears
Gnasher you've not been here for years and years.
GNASHER: in witton lane there is a stand named after aitch dee ee
the very man whose praises i will never sing
the reason is because he holds the strings
he's a soul-less fiend
it's all behind the scenes.
The Gnasher's Anti-reality Helmet (prop. Evil Dr SFX412) finally fails. His logic-circuits start emitting a dense black smoke. Optimisteron Proime, out of compassion, offers The Gnasher his hand. The Gnasher defiantly shakes his head. He shakes his head so violently that he becomes dizzy, loses his footing and falls to the pitch below.
Scene Ten: The Same.
Song: Randy, You're a Rich Man.
The Gnasher, arms flailing wildly, staggers to his feet.
GNASHER: how does it feel to be one of mute-iful people?
now that you know just where we are
what are you going to say?
how does it feel to be one of the loot-iful people?
now that you know just what we need
what are you going to spend?
randy, you're a rich man
randy, it's a bitch, man
there's nothing on the pitch, man.
how?
you spent half your money on a tumbling bear
i wouldn't care
but it's rude to stare.
The Gnasher, knowing that reality must soon overwhelm him, presses his self-destruct button. There is a brief flash of blinding light and then a very long, low and very repetitive rumbling. The Gnasher's head separates itself from the main unit and heads out into distant, dark, incomprehensible space. The Gnasher's main unit explodes into a million atoms. Moments later the air is filled with a fluttering confetti of signed photographs of Micky Droy and Clive Walker.
Scene Eleven: The Same.
Song: All You Need Is Luck.
Enter the Chris Smith Marching Vuvuzela Band followed by the Gnasherites and the Smiffies. The band plays La Marseillaise (arrangement by H. Coolerking).
ALL: Luck luck luck.
CHRIS: There's just no team that can't be beat
There's no point in thinking of defeat
Whenever you are in a jam
Remember Rotterdam
It's easy.
ALL: All you need is luck.
DAMON GREEN: We love you yeah yeah yeah.
THE END
Alex McLeish - Mel Gibson
Damon Green - Stephen Fry
Evil Dr SFX412 - Terry Thomas
-
You are a legend ronshirt, a legend i say!
-
Haha very good again,ronshirt?
-
A song for Alex.
Alex. Fuck off.
(it's an instrumental).
-
A song for Alex.
Alex. Fuck off.
Sex Pistols?
-
No McLeish, no cry
No McLeish, no cry
-
"Leaving on a jet plane", hopefully. (I`m showing my age with this one!)
-
A song for Alex.
Alex. Fuck off.
(it's an instrumental).
That amused me more than it really should have.
-
Percy - that was chuffing fantastic!