The Jobcentre Beckons For Flamini & Arteta

Flamini angrily walked towards the assistants desk, but not before being accosted by one member of the waiting queue, who had now recovered by the stupor they were under at the hands of Arteta's beauty and were now simply furious at being made to wait longer. This queue jumper would be made to pay, and it would be Mark Lawrenson who would mete out the justice.

As Lawrenson went to put his hand on Flamini's shoulder, Mathieu wheeled around with liquid rapidity, before snapping Lawrenson's arm and wildly pointing  in the stricken pundits face. He then spat in his general direction and ushered his security team in to scoop up Lawrenson from the floor.

The Assistant was stricken with fear as Flamini sat at her desk, but the Frenchman was oblivious to her obvious terror.

"You 'ave a job for me, non?"

The Assistant without hesitation started to tap at the keys. She searched frantically as Flamini lounged on the chair, chewing on a toothpick which had been sourced from environmentally friendly and renewable wood.

The Assistant perked up a little as she found something that may be a match.

"I have some mercenary work that could be of interest to you at Stamford Bridge? Or perhaps a hatchet man role at Marseille? How's about teaching kids about the darker arts of football with Chelsea? Actually, it seems a man of your talents is very much in demand at Chelsea. They have a requirement for a dirty player since Ramires left to go to China. Does this sound good to you? "

Flamini scoffed at the Assistant, and waved his hand toward his entourage. One of them bent down and was issued a command via whisper. Then, the member of the entourage, a faceless, hulking man, spoke for Mathieu.

"Chelsea will not be entertained by Mr Mathieu Flamini. Mr Mathieu Flamini seeks a role in which his status as the globe's saviour is acknowledged. He wants to feel adulation, such as a man of his merits deserves."

The Assistant typed frantically and positively beamed when she found what would be the perfect opportunity for a man of Flamini's talents.

"Mr Flamini, Sir. I have found the perfect job for you. It would further polish your memory at Arsenal, and the UK public would adore you afterwards. It really is perfect."

Flamini sat up straight with this promise of gainful employment. The Frenchman inched closer as the Assistant ramped up the tension by pausing before revealing Flamini's task.

"Mr Flamini, how would you like to be the man who finally shuts up Piers Morgan? "

Flamini shot to his feet. His Security team marched to the exit, with Flamini walking with intent behind them. He then stopped suddenly, and swung around in the manner of a cheesy eighties pop singer.

"Morgan. Prepare to be.......Mathieu'd."

Image www.thehissfit.com 

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