Alex Ferguson calls David Beckham into his office.
´David,´he says, ´I´m worried about your performance the last few games. You´ve been hopeless, completely off form.´
´Sorry, boss´, says David. ´I´ve not been myself lately. I´ve got a few problems at home.´
´Oh dear,´ says Ferguson, pretending to care. ´What´s up? Posh and Brooklyn okay?´
´Oh they´re fine´, says David. ´It´s just that something´s really bugging me and I´m losing sleep and everything. I can´t concentrate on my football and it´s really messing me up.´
´Whatever´s the matter, David?´ says Fergie.
´Well, boss´, says David, it´s pretty serious. You see I´m really stuck on this jigsaw and...´
´A jigsaw?!!!´ shouts Alex. ´You´re f......g up every time you play because of a bloody jigsaw?!!!´
´Yeah, boss, but you don´t understand, it´s really doing myhead in!´ says David in that horrible whining voice. ´It´s really hard and it´s this picture of a tiger and it looks really good on the box and I´m sure I´ve got all the bits and everything but I just can´t get it right and it´s doing my head in and I even had my hair cut to try and cool my brain down and...´
´David, David, David,´ says Ferguson. ´You´ve got to get a grip. It´s affecting our games and nothing is as important as Manchester Uniteds´ success, other than Roy Keane´s wages, obviously.´
´Yeah, boss,´ says David, ´but it´s this picture of a tiger and it looks really good on the box and I really want to finish it but it´s really hard and it´s doing my head in and it´s this picture..and it´s a tiger and it´s hard...and I can´t make the bits fit and, er, it´s really hard, er, boss and, er, it´s a tiger, er,... on the box...er...boss.´
Ferguson waits until even Beckham realises he´s repeating himself and has got nothing else to say which took a bit longer than usual. ´David,´ he says, with that conceited, irritating, smug smile he uses for self-congratulatory post-match interviews. ´Bring the tiger jigsaw in and let´s have a look at it. For Christ´s sake, we´ve got to get you back to playing football.´
´Oh thanks, boss,´ says David, ´that´d be really helpful ´cos it´s really hard and it´s a picture of a tiger and it´s doing my head in, that tiger is.´
So David brings the jigsaw into Ferguson´s office.
´Here it is, boss.´ He says, showing Ferguson the picture on the box. ´Look, boss, it´s this tiger, right, and it´s a really good picture and everything but I just can´t do it and it´s really hard and it´s doing my head in and it´s this picture here of a tiger,´ and Beckham empties all the pieces from the box all over Ferguson´s desk.
´David,´ sighs Ferguson, ´put the f*...g Frosties back in the box.
´David,´he says, ´I´m worried about your performance the last few games. You´ve been hopeless, completely off form.´
´Sorry, boss´, says David. ´I´ve not been myself lately. I´ve got a few problems at home.´
´Oh dear,´ says Ferguson, pretending to care. ´What´s up? Posh and Brooklyn okay?´
´Oh they´re fine´, says David. ´It´s just that something´s really bugging me and I´m losing sleep and everything. I can´t concentrate on my football and it´s really messing me up.´
´Whatever´s the matter, David?´ says Fergie.
´Well, boss´, says David, it´s pretty serious. You see I´m really stuck on this jigsaw and...´
´A jigsaw?!!!´ shouts Alex. ´You´re f......g up every time you play because of a bloody jigsaw?!!!´
´Yeah, boss, but you don´t understand, it´s really doing myhead in!´ says David in that horrible whining voice. ´It´s really hard and it´s this picture of a tiger and it looks really good on the box and I´m sure I´ve got all the bits and everything but I just can´t get it right and it´s doing my head in and I even had my hair cut to try and cool my brain down and...´
´David, David, David,´ says Ferguson. ´You´ve got to get a grip. It´s affecting our games and nothing is as important as Manchester Uniteds´ success, other than Roy Keane´s wages, obviously.´
´Yeah, boss,´ says David, ´but it´s this picture of a tiger and it looks really good on the box and I really want to finish it but it´s really hard and it´s doing my head in and it´s this picture..and it´s a tiger and it´s hard...and I can´t make the bits fit and, er, it´s really hard, er, boss and, er, it´s a tiger, er,... on the box...er...boss.´
Ferguson waits until even Beckham realises he´s repeating himself and has got nothing else to say which took a bit longer than usual. ´David,´ he says, with that conceited, irritating, smug smile he uses for self-congratulatory post-match interviews. ´Bring the tiger jigsaw in and let´s have a look at it. For Christ´s sake, we´ve got to get you back to playing football.´
´Oh thanks, boss,´ says David, ´that´d be really helpful ´cos it´s really hard and it´s a picture of a tiger and it´s doing my head in, that tiger is.´
So David brings the jigsaw into Ferguson´s office.
´Here it is, boss.´ He says, showing Ferguson the picture on the box. ´Look, boss, it´s this tiger, right, and it´s a really good picture and everything but I just can´t do it and it´s really hard and it´s doing my head in and it´s this picture here of a tiger,´ and Beckham empties all the pieces from the box all over Ferguson´s desk.
´David,´ sighs Ferguson, ´put the f*...g Frosties back in the box.