retired_shelfie

This is really holding me. Peacemaker is a legend! :thup:

shannon2007

Thanks guys, this is just a little ditty to give me a break from my main story, glad you're enjoying it

shannon2007

Jock Stein sat in the sauna. He was naked. That was something he would, it seems, have to get used to. His mind went back to the letter.

Dear Jock.

Congratulations! You are now the proud owner of a human body. Please remember that, unlike Heaven, you will have to eat, pee and crap. Failure to do these three things will mean termination and we cannot grant you another chance. It will be game over, nada, zilch, au revoir, nil point. You get the point right?

Your name is Andreas Johnsson. You are Swedish in case you haven't figured that out yet. You are forty six years old, and live in a nice flat with your lovely forty three year wife, Helga, and your two beautiful kids - Hans, aged four, and Hilda aged five. Your family are, like most Swedes, naturists. Isn't that a bonus!?

After reading this letter, you will head to Boras Arena - there is a map enclosed for your convenience - where you will attend an interview with the club chairman, Sture Svensson. Don't worry, this is merely a formality and the job is yours.

Your first aim is to win the Swedish League title. You have unlimited finances. However, you must at all times play only players eligible to play for Sweden. If a player had duel nationalities, you can play him unless and until he gets capped for a country other than Sweden, then he becomes dead to you and must be gotten rid of.

Good luck.

Your friend,

The Devil




Stein burst into tears.

He had two far hippo's for kids, and was married to a whale!

shannon2007

Ally MacLeod sat on a bench in the police station.

His life was over.

The police station stank of urine, and Ally wondered why no-one else seemed to notice. Then again, this was Iceland.

Ally thought back to the letter.



Dear Ally.

Congratulations! You are now the proud owner of a human body. Please remember that, unlike Heaven, you will have to eat, pee and crap. Failure to do these three things will mean termination and we cannot grant you another chance. It will be game over, nada, zilch, au revoir, nil point. You get the point right?

Your name is Simun Bjornsson. You are Icelandic, in case you haven't figured that out yet. You are forty six years old, and live in a small detached bungalow with your wife Mathilde, your eight year old daughter Guntha and your six month old son, Wally. Your wife is a police officer.

After reading this letter, you will head to Laugardalsvollur - there is a map enclosed for your convenience - where you will attend an interview with the club chairman, Finnborn Agnarsson. Don't worry, this is merely a formality and the job is yours.

Your first aim is to win the Icelandic League title. You have unlimited finances. However, you must at all times play only players eligible to play for Iceland. If a player had duel nationalities, you can play him unless and until he gets capped for a country other than Iceland, then he becomes dead to you and must be gotten rid of.

Good luck.

Your friend,

The Devil



Guntha, sitting beside Ally, sprang up when her mother entered the room.

'Thank feck I'm back on dayshift' the not unattractive women said as she greeted her husband. 'Lets go home.'

Ally MacLeod felt he had landed in paradise.

shannon2007

The Devil sat on the settee, his two girls drapped over him as he watched TV. This was such a tough life.

He, of course, had know what was in the letter, for he knows everything.

But he read it anyway.



Dear Devil.

Congratulations! You are now the proud owner of a human body. Please remember that, unlike Heaven, you will have to eat, pee and crap. Failure to do these three things will mean termination and we cannot grant you another chance. It will be game over, nada, zilch, au revoir, nil point. You get the point right?

Your name is Derek Meechan. You are a Scot, in case you haven't figured that out yet. You are forty six years old, and live in a modest apartment in the suburbs of Edinburgh with your two sisters, Morag and Senga.

After reading this letter, you will head to Easter Road - there is a map enclosed for your convenience - where you will attend an interview with the club chairman, Rod Petrie. Don't worry, this is merely a formality and the job is yours.

Your first aim is to win the Scottish League title. You have unlimited finances. However, you must at all times play only players eligible to play for Scotland. If a player had duel nationalities, you can play him unless and until he gets capped for a country other than Scotland, then he becomes dead to you and must be gotten rid of.

Good luck.

Your self

The Devil


PS They are not really your sisters




It was such a hard task being the Devil, but as he knew all things he knew one thing was sure.

This was going to be easy.

Just like these two burds.

retired_hern1001

Boo! Hiss!

shannon2007

Lech Wałęsa?

The Lechy board?

Lech-erous old man?

Lech Poznan.

Not for the first time, Dave who was now big gay Tom, burst into tears. Who the hell were Lech Poznan!

When the Devil had first suggested such a trip, it sounded great. Dave had visions of ended up Barcelona, Real Madrid, Chelsea - anywhere but Bradford if truth be told. But Poznan? POZNAN!?

It had been fourteen years since Lech Poznan - then known as, Lech Poznan - had won the Polish League title, the Orange Ekstrklasa. The fuking what now? Why the hell couldn't these foreign Johnnys have proper names, what the feck was wrong with League Division One like it was in Eng.... what the hell was wrong with the Premiership?

Ok ok, so we're here in Poznan. Hands up anyone who knows where Poznan is? Liar.

Five times they have won the Polish title. Ok it's a start, they have at least won something.

But with an all Polish side? Tell me something, who is the best current Polish player? ANY Polish player? No you can't - they're all pish!

It was a stupid idea. Dave wanted to go back to heaven. NOW.

NOW!!

shannon2007

There were Elfs every where, riding on hippo's, being chased by the Borg.

Stein/Johnsson woke in a cold sweat from a horrible nightmare. Turning over, he saw his wife and screamed. The nightmare it seemed was far from over.

IF Elfsborg.

Stein had never heard of them.

They had been Swedish champions four times. Mind you, three of those had been in the thirties and the last one had been in 1961. They were hardly the most successful of clubs.

Stein though, once getting over the fright of the sight of that massive blubbering body of fat that was supposed to be his wife, considered Sweden possibly wasn't so bad. They had a few decent players didn't? That Daniel Braathen, he was a Swede, wasn't he. And Henrik Larsson.

It could have been worse. Sure, it could have been a whole lot better. But it could have been worse.

The former Celtic and Scotland manager, now a Swede in a different body, was just coming to terms with his situation when he felt a clammy, fat arm pulling him towards a mountain of flesh.

'Oh honey' the whale whispered.

Stein screamed. Again.

retired_manragh

Great story, i hope it keeps going!

shannon2007

This is going to my 'weekend' story. It gives me a break from Duncan, which I am enjoying immensly, but am putting so much effort into its tiring

This is a nice bit of fun in the HD mold. Well he's copied me for years :p