It’s been an uncharacteristically tough season for Manchester United fans. Out of the FA Cup, all but out of the title race, unfancied as Susan Boyle in a bikini to do anything in Europe, in danger of getting knocked out of the Capital One Cup just at the point people start to give a shit about it. It turns out replacing Fergie may be more difficult than casually handing the job to a manager with a decent but unspectacular record may suggest.
David Moyes‘ first few months in charge have been frustrating. As frustrating as trying to get Jamie Redknapp to say anything remotely interesting. Some encouraging results have been followed up with stinkers like making West Brom look like Barcelona and it’s got to the point where their best chance of securing Champions League football next year may come via the route of Liverpool 2005-ing it all the way to victory in the tournament.
But fear not United fans. Just because we’re nice people, we’ve brought Fergie back to Old Trafford. Sort of. Well, in wax work form. In a high covert operations that was only partially undermined by the massive Paddy Power logo emblazoned on the side, we brought Fergie to Old Trafford once again.
Yes, it appears it was made by someone who has no idea what Sir Alex Ferguson looks like, but still – it’s Fergie back at Old Trafford – what more do United fans want?
It even says ‘in case of emergency, break class’ on the front! Like it would on a bus or some other enclosed space if was an emergency! Because David Moyes’ management is so bad, it’s an emergency for United. Ha ha! We’re so edgy.
‘But why would we need another inanimate object of questionable value lingering around Old Trafford, Paddy? We already have Marouane Fellaini?’ you might be asking right about now. Good question. It just serves as a back-handed tribute to the great man that is Fergie and how even a well-regarded manager can’t quite live up to the immense standards he set for the club.
Here’s some more pictures.
Here you go, one waxwork in the style of a German on ‘Allo, ‘Allo:
From the front-lines of mischief, one of our secret operatives brings this tale of sneakiness:
We were moved off then were stalked by some lads who looked like they were on work experience as we drove around Manchester. It was like Bullitt but with a shit, grey backdrop for over 20 minutes.
As I went to petrol station to get a Ginsters mega sausage roll one of them came up asking who we worked for. I just pointed to the massive f**king logo on the side of our Ford Transit. Poirot he was not.
We managed to shake them off only for Sharky & George to find us again. They almost started crying but then I suppose I would too if someone dug up my father and put him in a box. Especially if my new step father couldn’t feed my family.
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