Gaudino's Perm said:
I reckon that the press conference will be held on the pitch, with only Garry Cook and Santa Cruz in attendance. Then, just as the Q&A is finishing, Tevez will swoop down from the executive boxes on a zip-wire, and the centre circle will open to reveal a revolving golden plinth, on which Eto'o will be standing, wearing a sky blue crown.
Then we'll anounce that Danny Mills has signed a new 5 year contract.
300 elephants ridden by 300 white tigers will march through the city centre, accompanied by 6000 monkeys riding unicycles and a gnu on a magic carpet. Oasis and the remaning beatles will play status quo covers, whilst numerous rough sleepers and madmen are draped in fine cloths, given stacks of gold and jewels, and they will begin speaking in tongues before all joining together to recite the words to the herman munster song, first as a whisper, then growing louder, and louder, as the band seemlessly move from three chord footstompers into an avant garde dissonent drone, using a tuning system devised by the great arabic mathematician, sixty-four micro-tones in unison creating a harmonic that creates a resonance between the houses, shops and offices, and in COMS, a second harmonic is created that removes the impurities from the air and creates pure ionized oxygen, which in conjunction with the vibrations created in all matter by the music, will send all into a state of pure ecstacy. As noon passes, a giant mirror in space will deflect the sun, casting the city in total darkness, revealing a juxtaposition between three planets, which will then, as if by magic, be joined by a fourth, a blue planet, a planet so bright, it will be visible as the daylight slowly returns. As the light returns, all present will be blinded temporarily, and as their sight returns, they will struggle to make out the figures in front of them, three figures, seemingly floating in space infront of our eyes, no matter which direction we are looking. the figures, so serene, such archetypes of strength and intelligence, but who are they? they seem to be anyone and everyone, their features those of our mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, lovers. they are us and we are now them, and the moment is forever, the future and the past tug shining in our eyes, ringing in our ears and with unbearably sweet longing that overwhelms our hearts. the fans are saved, transported, and the good people of the world are suddenly fans standing alongside us... the evil, the wicked, the shallow feel the life draining from their hearts as they understand the joke that they played on themselves is over, and they are overwhelmed by the grey, cold, immutable reality without love and meaning that they have chosen. Giant lizards as tall as skyscrapers, wearing crowns of purest sapphire, storm their fortresses. Old Trafford is ablaze, covered in lizard faeces, collapsing. Anfield becomes immersed in a swarm of flies. And even the evil newspaper men have to admit it. City are back.
