(no subject)
title: five things that happened before the arsenal match
rating: pg-13, for language.
author's note: needed to let off some steam. thus, this basically wrote itself. i hope this puts a smile on your guys' faces, despite the result today. :)
five things that happened before the arsenal match
i.
"Can we please not listen to this song?" Cristiano complains, slumping back in his seat. "We've been listening to it since we left the hotel."
Wayne removes the sole ear piece, and holds it between his fingers before smiling, "No."
"But -"
"We listen to your music all the time."
"Not true."
"In my car, in your car, at my house, at your house -"
"No we don't -"
"You even uploaded them all into my ipod."
"You told me to."
"I said a few songs that you liked, not your whole ipod playlist."
"They're all my favourites! It is hard to choose."
Wayne laughs, putting the ear piece back, and singing along to Kanye West's "Stronger".
"Hmph."
Cristiano watches the striker nod his head to the beat, before he suddenly takes him by surprise turning around to look at him and sings (says), "Me likey."
The winger can't help but grin.
ii.
"Scholesy?" No answer. "Scholesy! Don't pretend you're not on the line, I can hear your heavy breathing."
A sigh. "What?"
"I wish -"
"I'm not a fuckin' genie, Gaz."
"Would you let me talk without you cutting -"
"Okay." Gary can just see the smug grin on the midfielder's face.
"I wish we were in London, with the lads."
"Why? To annoy them?"
"No. Just to be there with them."
"Gaz. You're unusually sentimental today."
"I know."
"But I wish we were there, too." And without missing a beat, "I blame my sentimental state on the medication I just took."
"Whatever you say."
"Tell the rest of the lads, and I might just -"
"Cry?"
"I'm hanging up," Paul threatens, "Don't think I won't."
"You wouldn't." A long pause. "Hello? Paul?" A shake of the head, "The little shite..."
iii.
"Alright, everyone know the rules?"
"No cheating."
"Yeah, basically."
"Okay, on your mark. Get set." Everyone looks around at one another -
The boys made a game of everything. Whether it was who could scarf down the most eggs in breakfast. Or who could keep a straight face in a staring contest (this game, in particular, always came down to Paul and Gaz - with Paul winning despite the always complaining Gary who insists he did not smile and if he did - well, he never got to that part of his tirade, not with Paul around.)
This time, though, it was a new game that came from the ever-creative mind of Nemanja Vidic. All the lads were on the main floor of their hotel (after being bombarded by the Serb and his partner-in-crime Rio). The object of the game was to get to the top floor. The catch? The team was put into pairs, and one had to be the runner. And the other, well, was on the runner's back.
"It's genius, no?"
Everyone looked around, anxiously. Not daring to say a word for fear that they might hurt the man's feelings.
"Unless, of course," Nemanja mocked, staring at his fingernails in disinterest. "You lads don't think you're ready for this kind of ... how do you say ... advanced contest. I understand."
"Who said anything about that?"
And that's exactly how the boys found themselves staring up at a set of staircases. "Do not drop me," Cristiano warned to Wayne.
"Like I could, you have your legs draped around me like a belt."
"I can't believe we're doing this."
"I'm excited!"
"That's because you're not the one doing all the work." O'Shea mutters, "Darren, would you please keep your hands - thank you."
Nemanja could barely contain his excitement, when he muttered the last word, "Go."
iv.
"Cesc Flabber Ass."
"What the hell are you doing, Rio?"
"Naming the Arsenal squad."
"See, there's Flabber Ass, Van Sissy..."
"Theo Walnut."
"Arsene Wanker."
"Oh yes, the head Arse."
"Jens SheMan."
"Ashley Troll."
"Darren, he's not on the team."
"Oh, okay then."
"Now you ruined the groove we were on."
"Hey, hey," Evra smiles. "How about us?"
"Edwin Van Der Save!"
"I quite like that."
"Rio Fantastic," A smile, "Man, you know what would've been perfect. If Gaz had Paul's last name. Then it would've been, Gary Scolds."
"Or we can keep his last name and make him Gary RedDevil."
"Would you all stop with the nicknames?"
" - Paul Smalls. Oh, don't want us to get to yours now do you?"
Wayne rolls his eyes, and rests his head on Nemanja's shoulder who was the only other player on the squad that wasn't blurting out names.
"Wayne Mooney."
"Fuck you."
v.
"Okay," Ryan says, turning around to face his teammates who were dressing for the game. "Whose the wise crack that took the captain band?"
"If Scholesy were here, he'd say 'What wise crack?'"
"And if Gaz were here, he'd say -"
"WHO THE HELL TOOK MY GODDAMN CAPTAIN BAND?"
"Close, Ry. But I do believe he would've answered his own question and ended with 'SCHOLESY! GIVE IT BACK, YOU -'"
"Okay, enough. If no one wants to tell me where it is, I'll make one myself."
"With paper and crayons and all that shit?"
The Welshman fishes out a pen from his bag and scrawls a "C" on a piece of paper, sticking out his tongue in concentration to make sure the letter was perfect. "There," he places it around his arm, wondering how he was going to get it to stay.
"Keep your arm by your side, real tight at all times."
The room howls with laughter, and Ryan scowls, and walks over to Wayne and smacks him upside the head.
"What the hell was that for?"
"CAPTAIN ABUSE, CAPTAIN ABUSE," Darren exclaims from his corner, and quickly shuts his mouth when Ryan looks his way. "That was O'Shea." The Scot points to the Irishman who glares back.
(Ryan later got the captain band, right before setting foot on the pitch. He wasn't sure who took it, or who chucked it to his head. But he would make sure to find out later.)
rating: pg-13, for language.
author's note: needed to let off some steam. thus, this basically wrote itself. i hope this puts a smile on your guys' faces, despite the result today. :)
five things that happened before the arsenal match
i.
"Can we please not listen to this song?" Cristiano complains, slumping back in his seat. "We've been listening to it since we left the hotel."
Wayne removes the sole ear piece, and holds it between his fingers before smiling, "No."
"But -"
"We listen to your music all the time."
"Not true."
"In my car, in your car, at my house, at your house -"
"No we don't -"
"You even uploaded them all into my ipod."
"You told me to."
"I said a few songs that you liked, not your whole ipod playlist."
"They're all my favourites! It is hard to choose."
Wayne laughs, putting the ear piece back, and singing along to Kanye West's "Stronger".
"Hmph."
Cristiano watches the striker nod his head to the beat, before he suddenly takes him by surprise turning around to look at him and sings (says), "Me likey."
The winger can't help but grin.
ii.
"Scholesy?" No answer. "Scholesy! Don't pretend you're not on the line, I can hear your heavy breathing."
A sigh. "What?"
"I wish -"
"I'm not a fuckin' genie, Gaz."
"Would you let me talk without you cutting -"
"Okay." Gary can just see the smug grin on the midfielder's face.
"I wish we were in London, with the lads."
"Why? To annoy them?"
"No. Just to be there with them."
"Gaz. You're unusually sentimental today."
"I know."
"But I wish we were there, too." And without missing a beat, "I blame my sentimental state on the medication I just took."
"Whatever you say."
"Tell the rest of the lads, and I might just -"
"Cry?"
"I'm hanging up," Paul threatens, "Don't think I won't."
"You wouldn't." A long pause. "Hello? Paul?" A shake of the head, "The little shite..."
iii.
"Alright, everyone know the rules?"
"No cheating."
"Yeah, basically."
"Okay, on your mark. Get set." Everyone looks around at one another -
The boys made a game of everything. Whether it was who could scarf down the most eggs in breakfast. Or who could keep a straight face in a staring contest (this game, in particular, always came down to Paul and Gaz - with Paul winning despite the always complaining Gary who insists he did not smile and if he did - well, he never got to that part of his tirade, not with Paul around.)
This time, though, it was a new game that came from the ever-creative mind of Nemanja Vidic. All the lads were on the main floor of their hotel (after being bombarded by the Serb and his partner-in-crime Rio). The object of the game was to get to the top floor. The catch? The team was put into pairs, and one had to be the runner. And the other, well, was on the runner's back.
"It's genius, no?"
Everyone looked around, anxiously. Not daring to say a word for fear that they might hurt the man's feelings.
"Unless, of course," Nemanja mocked, staring at his fingernails in disinterest. "You lads don't think you're ready for this kind of ... how do you say ... advanced contest. I understand."
"Who said anything about that?"
And that's exactly how the boys found themselves staring up at a set of staircases. "Do not drop me," Cristiano warned to Wayne.
"Like I could, you have your legs draped around me like a belt."
"I can't believe we're doing this."
"I'm excited!"
"That's because you're not the one doing all the work." O'Shea mutters, "Darren, would you please keep your hands - thank you."
Nemanja could barely contain his excitement, when he muttered the last word, "Go."
iv.
"Cesc Flabber Ass."
"What the hell are you doing, Rio?"
"Naming the Arsenal squad."
"See, there's Flabber Ass, Van Sissy..."
"Theo Walnut."
"Arsene Wanker."
"Oh yes, the head Arse."
"Jens SheMan."
"Ashley Troll."
"Darren, he's not on the team."
"Oh, okay then."
"Now you ruined the groove we were on."
"Hey, hey," Evra smiles. "How about us?"
"Edwin Van Der Save!"
"I quite like that."
"Rio Fantastic," A smile, "Man, you know what would've been perfect. If Gaz had Paul's last name. Then it would've been, Gary Scolds."
"Or we can keep his last name and make him Gary RedDevil."
"Would you all stop with the nicknames?"
" - Paul Smalls. Oh, don't want us to get to yours now do you?"
Wayne rolls his eyes, and rests his head on Nemanja's shoulder who was the only other player on the squad that wasn't blurting out names.
"Wayne Mooney."
"Fuck you."
v.
"Okay," Ryan says, turning around to face his teammates who were dressing for the game. "Whose the wise crack that took the captain band?"
"If Scholesy were here, he'd say 'What wise crack?'"
"And if Gaz were here, he'd say -"
"WHO THE HELL TOOK MY GODDAMN CAPTAIN BAND?"
"Close, Ry. But I do believe he would've answered his own question and ended with 'SCHOLESY! GIVE IT BACK, YOU -'"
"Okay, enough. If no one wants to tell me where it is, I'll make one myself."
"With paper and crayons and all that shit?"
The Welshman fishes out a pen from his bag and scrawls a "C" on a piece of paper, sticking out his tongue in concentration to make sure the letter was perfect. "There," he places it around his arm, wondering how he was going to get it to stay.
"Keep your arm by your side, real tight at all times."
The room howls with laughter, and Ryan scowls, and walks over to Wayne and smacks him upside the head.
"What the hell was that for?"
"CAPTAIN ABUSE, CAPTAIN ABUSE," Darren exclaims from his corner, and quickly shuts his mouth when Ryan looks his way. "That was O'Shea." The Scot points to the Irishman who glares back.
(Ryan later got the captain band, right before setting foot on the pitch. He wasn't sure who took it, or who chucked it to his head. But he would make sure to find out later.)