Dynamo Labourista v Atlético La Lobby – MMA Smackdown 2014

The rules of the annual Labourista v La Lobby charity match were revised this year from the usual ninety minutes of association football to a balls-to-the wall MMA last-man-standing cage fight. The eastern Manchester theatre of dreams was once again on venue duty and referee Hunt was on loan from the PCC to helm this special occasion.

Lining up for the Labourista were a number of their first choice XI, noteably Slim Jim Murphy, Sadiq Smackdown Khan, Dave Hellboy Hodges, and their superstar striker Ballsabio.

The journalists lined up with a strong squad on paper, particularly Gram De Maniac (Western Morning News), Georgio Scotty Parker (The FT), and Matt Digger Dathan (The Times). Their team was rounded off with Rob Mayhem Merrick (Northern Echo) on midfield enforcement duty, but unfortunately BBC Salford Exiles hard man, Niko Robinho, was unable to pass a late fitness test after sustaining a groin injury in a recent drive-by press conference from a questionable challenge by Red Star Sconationnallez first choice striker Axel Slammin.

Referee Hunt blew up to begin proceedings and the journalists proved to be the quicker starters with De Maniac moving around the octagon like lightning. The Labourista had no answer for De Maniac’s butterfly footwork and he effortlessly pinned Slim Jim Murphy to the deck with his two-fingers-of-death signature move, which was neatly followed up by a textbook neck-breaker. Slim Jim tapped out before passing out and it was one up for the journalists.

Next up was Georgio Scotty Parker who went mano a mano with Smackdown Khan. Khan is a wily old fox, and used all his skill in misdirection and confusalisation to manoeuvre Parker to best exploit Scotty’s suspect knee. But Parker had seen Khan coming and whipped around at the last second, cleverly feigning a reverse-scorpion before landing Khan squarely with a spine-ripper, and as he followed up with the jaws-of-death Khan could take no more and bugged out with a double tap. Two nil to the journalists and the match was slipping away from the Labourista for the second year in a row.

The octagon remained busy with several one-on-one battles that delighted the crowd, but the scoreline remained at two nil as Ballsabio stepped up to assume responsibility for turning the match around. He faced Mayhem Merrick and the two players immediately squared up under referee Hunt’s diverted gaze with neither man willing a give an inch.

As Hunt blew up it was Ballsabio who landed some early doors pre-emptive retribution and he delighted the club Etihad crowd with a brutal two handed kidney-jack-knife which temporarily brought Mayhem down to one knee. But Mayhem shook off this early punishment and was soon back on his feet worrying Ballsabio’s weak left sided defence strategy.

The contest was nearly over when Ballsabio made his final move and he controversially caught Merrick with an elbow-of-righteous-justice right into his fizzog, which opened the claret taps on Mayhem’s eyebrow and covered the octagon’s canvas with journoblood. Although referee Hunt had managed to not see the incident he had no choice but to blow up to stop the game while the mat was hosed down.

After speaking with his fourth official, referee Hunt once again managed to keep his cards in his pocket and ruled the incident as entirely accidental and contrary to the interests of the general public to pursue any further.

As the game neared its end, a beautiful spell in the octagon from Hellboy Hodges almost brought the Labourista back into the match, as he risked everything with his bladed-hand-of-eternal-retribution signature move aimed right into the lower back of the valiant Digger Dathan, temporarily ending Digger’s involvement as he hit the deck harder than a dead troll against a paywall.

But that proved to be a false dawn as the journalists rallied with lovely some late-doors grudgement. Digger Dathan was back in the action and scored an unbelievable quadruple-chainsaw-cobra on Smackdown Khan, sending Khan on a one way horizontal holiday to decksville, USA.

Hunt blew up and that was that. The match ended 3-1 to the journalistas.


Georgio Osbo special report. Let’s cook austerity

Gameoftwo is delighted to bring you this special report, having been invited to spend a memorable afternoon with the Tory Young Boys’ superstar striker, Georgio Osbo, at his humble £10m townhouse.

In the culinary event of the year, Georgio generously opened up his presentation kitchen, one of three at his eleven bedroom city crash pad, and invited journalists to help him cook up some low cost savoury delights and chow on his tasty austerity hors d’œuvres.

“Austerity is not just a word that I say with my mouth, it is the foundation of my entire life.” ejaculated Osbo as he led us on a mazy walk from his informal reception hall through to the east wing of his humble abode.

“Take this wallpaper for instance. It is from Osborne and Little’s economy range, where a whole room can be covered for less than fifty thousand pounds!” although he later went on to clarify that fitting would, of course, be extra.

“And these corniche trimmings are from Osborne and Little’s supersaver product line, with only four carat gold infused thread rather than the usual twenty-four carat, hand spun filament. There are some real savings for the wise buyer in today’s soft goods market.”

After a few embarrassing wrong turns we eventually arrived at Osbo’s presentation kitchen, and he lost no time in showing us his humorous side by joking that this was the first time that he’d ever been in this particular room.

Osbo’s choice of dish was to be his signature entrée, a legend within the Mayfair fine dining underworld, the peerless and much imitated, mix de viands a la Osbo.

“The essence of my mix de viands is pure austerity.” promulgated Osbo. “Tinned meats, roughly cut sausages, and thin slices of beef. Look after the pennies and the pounds look after themselves. I stocked up on tinned reindeer meat from Nick Harvey’s in their January sale, and Iberian sausages are an absolute bargain at the moment given their economy is even more fucked than ours is.

“Top it off with waferised Wagyu beef, purchased by my manservant at Nick Harvey’s, thirty minutes before closing time when they knock the price down to only £99 per kilo!

“And of course, no mix de viands a la Osbo would be complete without a generous smearing of Rottingenden’s world famous pate de foie gras de riant. A unique and mouth watering pate, made with the ‘methode traditionelle’ where the geese are strapped into a velvet covered feeding harness with chains of pure silver, and then force fed while being lovingly tickled with antique ostrich feathers.

“With some judicious household purchasing, this dish should cost you no more than £125 per plate, perhaps even less if you are catering for fifty or more people.

“Of course, such a dish as the mix de viands a la Osbo would be completely ruined without the right presentation, and it is here that one can really distinguish oneself by following the Osbo doctrine of presentology and aesthetic assemblisation.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the press, I humbly give you…. mix de viands a la Osbo!” and with a well practiced flourish he revealed the finished product to gasps of delight from the gathered news hounds.

This was no ordinary plate of meat, this was an epicurean masterpiece of bestial husbandry. I will try to describe the stunning sight that caressed our astounded eyes, but forgive me if I have to invent some new words to fully communicate the luxuriant rightness of this extraordinary wonder.

It rested on an antique porcelain platter of such delicate properties that to touch it was to break it, with a dazzling black enamel made entirely of volcanic glass that had been hand collected from the depths of the Kauai undersea channel. Obtaining the glass to make just this one plate had claimed the lives of three divers, whose souls, by local superstition, are said to be imprisoned for eternity in the smooth black plateware.

Around the edge of the dish was a bed of miniature rocket, with each individual leaf having been hand graded for size, thickness and length of stem. A preparation of vibrant flavourings had been injected into each stem, giving a range of taste sensations from the earthy warmness of a sizzling pheasant being roasted on a roaring fire, to the astringent bitterness of an angostura cocktail being consumed in a wood panelled gentlemen only dining room in a Pall Mall club.

Resting amongst the salad were marble sized globes of miniature tomatoes, each having been hand peeled with razor sharp scalpels by a crack team of gifted Nepalese peelologists, who by law can only work at an altitude of seven thousand metres above sea level. Each coloured skin had been delicately removed and then replaced upon a tomato of a different colour, having been stitched back together using an aniseed flavoured edible thread only one micron in width.

But there could be no doubt that the star of this triumphant platter was the meat, and the meat alone. The slices of Wagyu beef had been cut so thin, that in many countries they would be considered a lethal weapon that was capable of inflicting terrible injury. They had been sliced by a highly trained special ops chef who was forced to wear a high technology suit developed by NASA to survive the zero degree vacuum of the hyperbaric slicing chamber.

Accompanying the Wagyu were the Iberian delights, with each sausage having been individually opened up and delicately cut and arranged to resemble a burning red rose petal. The delicate petals were interlaced and then fused together by searing them over a fire made from a five hundred year old rose bush that had, until recently, been nurtured by ten generations of the same family outside a crofters cottage on a remote Scottish island.

The reindeer meat had been cut into perfect cubes by an industrial laser to ensure that each had exactly the same dimensions, which also sealed in the moist goodness of Christmas. We were not fooled by the apparently random dispersal of cubes over the dish, and it was later confirmed that each cube had been specifically put in place by a robotic arm to ensure that the layout mirrored that of the cosmic alignment of the stars on Christmas day over Lapland.

Nestling at the centre of the Iberian rose was a single scoop of Rottingenden’s pate de foie gras de riant, its pale colour being accentuated by the black volcanic glass to truly hint at the majesty of a goose in full flight over a glassy smooth lake Windermere in the early stages of what promised to be a glorious British summer.

The dish was finished with a classic Osbo touch. A robin redbreast sculpture made from a piece of fine linen that was rumoured to have once belonged to Mother Theresa. The priceless cloth had been folded into shape by Master Shinji Jakandi and his young son Shino, the current world champion father and son speed origami team, and holders of the world record for napkin manipulisation-grande-vitesse. The robin, a common but hardy British bird, had been chosen by Osbo after consulting a number of focus groups, and served to underline his roots as a common man of this great nation.

It was with a heavy heart that we departed Osbo towers at the end of a gastronomic afternoon that will live long in the memory. We will shortly get back to more footbally type things, so if you can be bothered then stay tuned.

Red Star Sconationnalez breakaway

Red Star Sconationnalez’s audacious bid to break away from the Westminister premiership comes to a head today as the club and its supporters vote on whether or not to set up a rival league with the Albainian All Stars, Kosovo Krusaders, and the Montenegro Molotovs.

Characteristically, Red Star Sconationnalez striker Axel Slammin was playing his usual aggressive game, with the BBC News PPE first choice striker, Niko Robinhio, feeling Slammin’s sharpened Scottish studs with a series of horrific two footed tackles at their recent impromptu kick around in the Edinburgh Airport departure lounge.

All the Westiminister Premiership heavyweights have been north of the border this week in a variety of attempts to claim valuable column inches to further their own twisted agendas. At the fore front of this was Hilario Farragusto who made a brave attempt to push the boundaries of hypocrisy to new levels by accusing Axel Slammin of inciting hatred against a foreign country.

A cross party Westminister black ops squad, headed by the Eton Rangers starting eleven, were reported to have been active in territory north of Carlisle in an attempt to directly engage Red Star’s support base and derail Slammin’s audacious plans. However, it was suggested that due to the difficulty in obtaining insurance cover for these high net worth individuals that each person was substituted at a late stage by a life size cardboard cut out, a fact that is supported by the uncharacteristically low number of reportable gaffs during their speeches. Conversely, many people who attended these speeches were reported to say that they were refreshingly full of common sense.

Dynamo Labourista even went as far as to send their second and third teams up to the scuffling Edinburgh epicentre of divisive madness, which a Brewers Green insider was quoted as calling “Operation Lambs to the Slaughter”. You may be pleased to know that as we go to print all but eight MP’s are now accounted for and are back in Westminster after successfully avoiding capture and catching the train home (this time in first class due to security concerns as there were no photographers present for the return trip).

Slammin was highly visible throughout the day and gave a number of drive-by press conferences to some suspiciously partisan spur of the moment crowds waving flags with his picture on. “I ‘ain’t promising you the Earth,” he shouted, before then going on to promise them the Earth. A bewildered English looking passer by later took the brunt of Slammin’s nationalistic rhetoric and was brutally impaled by Axel’s vigorously aggressive pointy finger as he raved, “ye can take my wife but ye cannae take my Edam!”, although in our defence his words were partially drowned out by the horn of a crude oil supertanker exiting Scottish territorial waters in a southeasterley direction.

The punch up continues, so watch this space.