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Roy Keane rant-fiction
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<blockquote data-quote="shez1987" data-source="post: 5277698" data-attributes="member: 13225"><p>I was having a bad week. We lost 4-2 at home to Bolton at the weekend and the home crowd was growing restless. Fucking muppets in the stands. Don't they know what I have achieved in the game?</p><p></p><p>I heard Triggs barking at the front door. I looked outside. It looked like the postman, or some delivery guy. The guy gave a quick wave and smiled nervously. I opened the door. "Hi, Mr Keane. I have a package for you". He handed it over and said, "Can you sign here please, Roy?".</p><p></p><p>"Sign? You call yourself a professional and here you are pestering me for an fucking autograph on my own property". Same old story, amateur hour all over again. The red mist descended. I dived in and caught with my shoes just below the knee-cap.</p><p></p><p>He fell to the ground and curled up in agony. I stood over his prostrate body and shouted "You don't praise the postman for delivering mail, ya cunt". I let Triggs off the leash and he helped himself to some afters by biting the guy repeatedly on the arm.</p><p></p><p>"It is recorded delivery, Mr Keane", he cried out as I turned to go back into the house. Whatever I thought, just do your fucking job and show a bit of commitment at least.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="shez1987, post: 5277698, member: 13225"] I was having a bad week. We lost 4-2 at home to Bolton at the weekend and the home crowd was growing restless. Fucking muppets in the stands. Don't they know what I have achieved in the game? I heard Triggs barking at the front door. I looked outside. It looked like the postman, or some delivery guy. The guy gave a quick wave and smiled nervously. I opened the door. "Hi, Mr Keane. I have a package for you". He handed it over and said, "Can you sign here please, Roy?". "Sign? You call yourself a professional and here you are pestering me for an fucking autograph on my own property". Same old story, amateur hour all over again. The red mist descended. I dived in and caught with my shoes just below the knee-cap. He fell to the ground and curled up in agony. I stood over his prostrate body and shouted "You don't praise the postman for delivering mail, ya cunt". I let Triggs off the leash and he helped himself to some afters by biting the guy repeatedly on the arm. "It is recorded delivery, Mr Keane", he cried out as I turned to go back into the house. Whatever I thought, just do your fucking job and show a bit of commitment at least. [/QUOTE]
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