Noddy's done his press conference and he's driving down past 7 Sisters station in that London, on his way to White Hart Lane. "Dunnae worry son" said the Pisscan, swigging a dram from his hip-fkask, presented to him on his retirement, courtesy of Pigmol for services to fuck-all. "Fooled that lot - they thought I was retiring - what do they know?" He swigged again as Noddy enquired, "Do we just do the same as you wanted in the past down here? Are you sure they'll roll over for us again?" "Course they will son - lily-livered nancy boys the lot of 'em down south. Not tough like you Mancunians like you'se. They roly-poly to let yae tickle their tums laddie - always do!"
"Thanks boss!! Do I go with 2 wingers today. I was thinking that maybe we could try something different." "Now don't start to come the clever wee dicky laddie! What are ye thinkin'" " 3 wingers boss; on each side; CR7 through the middle; ugly odd couple behind him; Slabhead at the rear, and Big Ears in goal." "What?!" "I figured that was the problem last week; I didn't do it the United way. I forgot all about my United DNA; my Mancunian DNA. Can I do it boss? Please?!" "No son. Have a ginger beer when we get to't ground - I'll give ye the team sheet when I'm good and ready."
"Whatever you want is fine by me boss. Shall I ask CR7 to do the steppy steppy change legs thingy?"
"Aye son; aye" Groaned the pisscan, tiring from the strain of thought, trying to recall just how easy it all used to be..