Sean the Blade
Member
Following a series of supernatural occurrences at Bramall Lane, manager Gary Speed took decisive action and called in spiritualist Derek Acorah.
“Look Derek, we really need help, things keep disappearing from around the club, PLAYERS keep disappearing and never get replaced, things move by their own accord and for no reason”
“Can you give me an example?”
“Well, a few weeks ago we were comfortable in 12th place, then, for no reason, we’re suddenly in 19th! How did that happen?”
“Don’t move Gary, I’m on my way”
Derek is greeted in Gary’s office by both Gary and Kevin McCabe “Good morning gents, good morning, and that’s with love and respect… I, I can feel a warmth in this office, a real warmth” McCabe scribbled in his notebook ‘Turn heating down’. Derek made his way over to the manager’s chair, behind the desk.
“My, my, this seat has seen some bums hasn’t it?”
“I hired most of them” said McCabe “WAIT! WAIT! I’m getting a message” Acorah suddenly began to shake violently, he placed his hand inside his blazer and clasped his hand to his heart “It’s a, it’s a m-e-s-s-a-g-e”. Speed and McCabe supported the convulsing medium and the shaking subsided. “Sorry about that boys, my fone’s on vibrate, it’s a bit strong, it’ll be me Mam, she’ll want to know if I’ll be home for me dinner”
“How much are we paying this clown?” hissed McCabe “Less than you paid Blackwell” replied Speed. “Result!” Kevin reflected.
The trio made their way on to the playing surface, Acorah’s face lifted and twitched, like a terrier catching a scent. He made his way to the centre of the field, muttering as he did “I’m sensing an evil spirit, hatred, bitterness, now its crying, pleading, desolation…” He turned to McCabe, and grasped his jacket sleeve, his eyes ran wild, his voice was tortured, sweat ran from his pores. He fell to his knees “Yes Sam Yes, I can hear them but I can’t tell what they’re saying. What? What’s that? I’m getting an image of a man, very threatening, he’s wearing a bowler hat, he’s holding out his hand, he wants some sort of payment. He’s got a child’s toy in the other hand, it’s a, a, a wind-up pig. IT’S THE TAX MAN, HE WANTS PAYING OR HE’LL WIND YOU UP!”
McCabe leant over Acorah and whispered “Derek, this is Sheffield UNITED, not Sheffield Wednesday”
“Oh, oh, that bloomin sat-nav, I bought it off some shifty, fat, barrow-boy from Sheffield, even tried flogging me a season ticket for Wednesday’s, it’s always sending me to the wrong place. That’s when its working, the voice recognition is appalling, I once said ‘embankment’ and it mis-heard it as ‘investment’, its still searching!” Derek Stood.
“I am sorry about that boys, but you know how it is, if I can’t find anything to tune into, you have to make it up a bit”
“So we’re clean really?”
“Yeah, no spooks, ghouls, ghosts, phantoms or anything!”
The noise of Derek’s car subsided as Kevin relaxed back into his office chair, he leaned forwards and scanned his desk “Now, where’s that tax return got to? It was on here when I left…. “
“Look Derek, we really need help, things keep disappearing from around the club, PLAYERS keep disappearing and never get replaced, things move by their own accord and for no reason”
“Can you give me an example?”
“Well, a few weeks ago we were comfortable in 12th place, then, for no reason, we’re suddenly in 19th! How did that happen?”
“Don’t move Gary, I’m on my way”
Derek is greeted in Gary’s office by both Gary and Kevin McCabe “Good morning gents, good morning, and that’s with love and respect… I, I can feel a warmth in this office, a real warmth” McCabe scribbled in his notebook ‘Turn heating down’. Derek made his way over to the manager’s chair, behind the desk.
“My, my, this seat has seen some bums hasn’t it?”
“I hired most of them” said McCabe “WAIT! WAIT! I’m getting a message” Acorah suddenly began to shake violently, he placed his hand inside his blazer and clasped his hand to his heart “It’s a, it’s a m-e-s-s-a-g-e”. Speed and McCabe supported the convulsing medium and the shaking subsided. “Sorry about that boys, my fone’s on vibrate, it’s a bit strong, it’ll be me Mam, she’ll want to know if I’ll be home for me dinner”
“How much are we paying this clown?” hissed McCabe “Less than you paid Blackwell” replied Speed. “Result!” Kevin reflected.
The trio made their way on to the playing surface, Acorah’s face lifted and twitched, like a terrier catching a scent. He made his way to the centre of the field, muttering as he did “I’m sensing an evil spirit, hatred, bitterness, now its crying, pleading, desolation…” He turned to McCabe, and grasped his jacket sleeve, his eyes ran wild, his voice was tortured, sweat ran from his pores. He fell to his knees “Yes Sam Yes, I can hear them but I can’t tell what they’re saying. What? What’s that? I’m getting an image of a man, very threatening, he’s wearing a bowler hat, he’s holding out his hand, he wants some sort of payment. He’s got a child’s toy in the other hand, it’s a, a, a wind-up pig. IT’S THE TAX MAN, HE WANTS PAYING OR HE’LL WIND YOU UP!”
McCabe leant over Acorah and whispered “Derek, this is Sheffield UNITED, not Sheffield Wednesday”
“Oh, oh, that bloomin sat-nav, I bought it off some shifty, fat, barrow-boy from Sheffield, even tried flogging me a season ticket for Wednesday’s, it’s always sending me to the wrong place. That’s when its working, the voice recognition is appalling, I once said ‘embankment’ and it mis-heard it as ‘investment’, its still searching!” Derek Stood.
“I am sorry about that boys, but you know how it is, if I can’t find anything to tune into, you have to make it up a bit”
“So we’re clean really?”
“Yeah, no spooks, ghouls, ghosts, phantoms or anything!”
The noise of Derek’s car subsided as Kevin relaxed back into his office chair, he leaned forwards and scanned his desk “Now, where’s that tax return got to? It was on here when I left…. “
