Firstly I’ve always been a big fan of the show, your steely, philanthropic crusade to ‘battle for the little guy’ is reassuringly heart-warming and you are undoubtedly the ‘Jim’ll Fix it’ of criminal negligence. Not Nicky Cambell though, he always slightly nauseated me.
Onto business. I am the owner/CEO of a company called Chelsea Football Club, providing football solutions to both the 35-68 Crayfish Ciabatta, and the 18-45 tattooed Lambretta demographics. After ploughing a significant amount of personal capital in transforming my company into a market-leader, I have over the last couple of years, tempered my investment.
I’m not going to lie, I’m not exactly a ‘little guy’ as such, but I have felt the pinch of the global recession as much as any other Tom, Dick and Gary. That was until recently, with growing stakeholder pressure mounting through poor performance in the first 2 quarters of the financial season, I agreed to bankroll an investment of £50m to purchase a Fernando Torres.
With my company long needing a Torres to boost the potency of our market standing and to uplift a beleaguered workforce, I managed to source one from a company called Liverpool Football Club I found in an industry magazine.
Now, as a youngster growing up in rural Russia, my father was an astute businessman who only ever gave me once piece of entrepreneurial advice, which I’ll never forget. “Roman, there are two types of people in this world who you should never do business with, Cossacks and Scousers, you’ll end up paying through the arse.” he said.
Wary of this, I made my first telephone enquiry to the company they told me they didn’t have any Fernando Torres available, but they did have an N’gog and a couple of Poulson’s. Sensing the opportunity to barter, “even for £50m?” I asked confidently. “er…I’ll av te get the gaffer lad, ang on”. Check. Mate. I felt like Gary Kasparov.
A few moments passed when a rather out-of-breath American gentleman answered the phone “hey there sir, I’m John W Henry, Frank told me all about your generous offer, and I’d like to say we’d be delighted to accept. How would you like your Torres delivered, is helicopter ok?”.
“Well, yes that would be fine. Send us an invoice and we’ll do a BACS transfer tomorrow”. This seemed to easy, I thought, smelling a rat. Nevertheless, the record of the Torres model is unquestionable, so it seemed like a no-brainer. As the popular expression goes, if something sounds too good to be true, it invariably is.
My instincts never usually let me down so I was happy to have done the deal, as were the board, the whole company was buzzing. However, this hysteria turned out to be short lived as upon installation, the Fernando Torres we purchased transpired to be fraudulent dross, allowing those bastards to get the better of us in monthly performance.
I was absolutely furious, as we have shelled out our biggest investment for years on a foppish lesbian looking thing which couldn’t hit a bison’s arse with a BMW.
They said they have posted a receipt, which has never arrived. Their accounts department claim they have no record of my transaction and the invoice number I’ve quoted doesn’t exist. Through stifled laughter, their Finance director advised me that “all of our invoices start with LFC01 lad, so we’ve got no record of MUG50000000”.
I’ve been taken for a ride by these cowboys and I also hear through my network of sources that they are planning to take £45m off rival competitor Manchester United for a ‘blag’ Pepe Reina they picked up in Egypt for £50. They have to be stopped before anyone else can suffer at the hands of these fraudsters.
I look forward to hearing from you to explain in more detail.
Roman Douglas Abramovich
P.s. I will offer a reward of £1,000,000 and one Soloman Kalou to anyone who can bring me Damien Commoli’s head in a leather satchel. Put that in your TV show.