The Wonky Kroenke - Part 1

Little Ivan has gone to Walmart to return a faulty product. He is greeted by an obvious coke addict at the door.

Ivan – ‘Nice to see I’m not the only one who likes dry powder!’
Greeter – ‘Walcome to welmart!’

Ivan reaches the returns desk and is met with a seemingly nice young chap with the name ‘Ricky’ written in deliberately informal font on his name tag.

Ricky – ‘Well hey there sir, how can I help?
Ivan – ‘I’d like to return a faulty item please.’
Ricky – ‘Oh I’m sorry to hear that sir, do you have it there?

Ivan clicks his fingers, and two burly men wheel in a grey haired, grinning, moustachioed man who looks happy as can be.

Ricky – ‘Uh…sir? What is this?’
Ivan – ‘This is my Kroenke, sir. He’s gone a bit wonky.’
Ricky – ‘Your Kroenke is wonky?’
Ivan ‘That is right kind sir’
Ricky – ‘Mind if I take a look?’
Ivan – ‘Sure, I’ll just sit on my hands like usual’

Ricky walks over to the wonky Kroenke and looks him up and down, noting the near delirious levels of joy on this ridiculous man’s face.

Ricky – ‘Uh…Mr Kroenke?’
Kroenke – ‘WOOOOO!!!! YEEEHAAAAW COWBOY YEEEEE AH’M ROOTIN TOOTIN, SHOOTIN STAAAAAYN KROENKE!’

The wonky Kroenke pulls two pistols from his pockets and starts shooting them into the air whilst dancing on the spot

Ricky (turning to Ivan) – ‘My god, I can see he’s quite wonky’
Ivan – ‘Oh no. that’s normal for him'
Kroenke – ‘AH WANT ME ANOTHER SOCCER FRANCHISE WOOOOOO!!!’

Much to everyone’s bemusement, some loud hillbilly music is now playing despite there being no sign of where it’s coming from

Ricky – ‘Is….is that normal too?’
Ivan – ‘Oh yeah, he loooves a good franchise ’
Ricky – ‘So what’s the problem sir?’
Ivan – ‘Well, he’s…’
Kroenke – ‘BOY! AH SAY BOY!’

Kroenke is now wearing overalls and has a bottle of moonshine in his hand.

Kroenke – ‘BOY, HOW WOULD YOU LIKE A JOBEROO AT ONE OF MY AWESOME SPORT FRANCHISES BOY HOWDY?’
Ricky – ‘Well sir, that’s very kind but I already have a job’
Kroenke – ‘NONSENSE BOY! MY LONDON ARSENALS NEED A NEW HEAD OF PROCRASTINATION GOSH DARN IT. BEEN MEANIN TO FILL THAT POSITION FOR YEARS BUT NEVER GOT AROUND TO IT YOO HOO WEEEEEHAAAW!’

Wonky Kroenke pulls out a banjo and pulls off a virtuoso display whilst a barn dance briefly erupts in the background

Ivan – ‘You see that? THAT’S the problem. He keeps trying to force recruitment on us. He’s already got us a negotiator called Díck Law, and even gave his wife Vagine Legislation a job as our first team gynaecologist.’
Ricky – ‘I’m sorry sir, I’m not seeing the problem here, men need váginal health checks too’
Ivan – ‘Look, if he’s willing to spend money on pointless new recruitments, how long before he sanctions moves for soccer players who will actually propel us to winning something?’

Ricky’s face turns as white as a ghost

Ricky – ‘Oh….MY….GOD’
Ivan – ‘Finally you get it!’
Ricky – ‘Uh…no sir…’

Ricky points to behind Ivan, where the wonky Kroenke has skinned one of the burly gentlemen and is now dancing around Walmart wearing him like a dressing gown’

Kroenke – ‘LOOK AT ME BOY HOWDY! AH’M THE KING OF SCOTCHLAND! AH JUST GONE KILT A MAYN!’

Ivan sighs and draws a tranquiliser gun, shooting the wonky Kroenke twice in the neck. The wonky Kroenke staggers, and finally falls to the ground.

Kroenke – ‘Ah…howdy….rootin….tootin…Staaayn….Kroenke’

Ivan smiles proudly and turns to Ricky

Ivan – ‘I’m real sorry for wasting your time kind sir’
Ricky – ‘But sir, what about the wonky Kroenke?’
Ivan – ‘We’ll be fine, I’ll just sign Malouda(loan) and tipex ‘Rooney’ on the back of his shirt, Mr Kroenke won’t know the difference.’


......To be discontinued.