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12 July 2010
Two weeks after England's heartbreaking (and spine-breaking, and neck-breaking, and kneecap-breaking—the Germans really put the hurt on England in that game; don't even get me started on their coccyges) 4-1 loss to Germany, England fans are still up in arms and threatening to storm Windsor Palace with pitchforks, torches and smashed Newcastle—a nod to another much beloved, much overrated English soccer team that currently sucks more dick than a Cambodian kindergartener—bottles. . . after they drink them, of course, as no one seriously thinks England might've made it to the finals without first drinking at least—well, we'll have to let you know, as none of the fans currently storming Windsor Palace ever actually thought England stood a chance of making it out of group, let alone winning a game in the knockout rounds.
"Heskey, Rooney, and Aaron Lennon," said one England fan. "It's a deformed putrid patchwork of players who play like they're dead. Like a Frankenstein's monster made from body parts of different corpses, except in every case the body part in question is some dead bloke's arse."
While the loss to Germany left a bitter taste in England fans' mouths—though that might be the result of England fans' having spent the entire qualification campaign sucking their own dicks—for most Englishmen life goes on as much as it always has: Wimbledon is still narcoleptic and elitist, chips are still greasy and served atop hysterical reminders of Frank Lampard's latest failure, and the wheels of government continue to turn, though it's obvious to anyone with eyes—even squinty-eyed fucks with epicanthic folds like me—that the car's been in neutral since 1955.
"With the current economic climate posing dangers to everyone, as most dramatically demonstrated by the recent cases of Iceland and Greece, the Treasury will hold a special closed-door session for the next two weeks," an aide to George Osborne, Chancellor of the Exchequer and Second Lord of the Treasury, told FOUL. "Talking points on the agenda include such important issues as the ethic implications of John Terry fucking his teammate's wife's country's national team's World Cup campaign; why the hell hasn't Capello been sacked, and then once securely in the sack been thrown into the Thames; procuring the release of Mark David Chapman, so that he can shoot Aaron Lennon; and whether or not anyone would notice if we shaved an orangutan, put it in the #10 shirt, and said it was Rooney. The consensus is that someone would notice, once the orangutan scored a goal."
In other (less-pressing) news, Spain won the World Cup, defeating Holland 1-0 after extra time, and aliens invaded earth, successfully subjugating every major military power on the planet in a matter of minutes.
England fans were moderately cheered upon learning of Spain's result. "It's good for us," said one Tharris Nogodson, "We're all somewhat cheered that an Englishman was so vital in defeating Holland. It's (somewhat) like 1966 all over again, though I can't say Howard Webb fucked them quite as badly as Gottfried Dienst fucked the Germans. Oh, but Spain was good this year. They didn't win off a fluke."
When asked about adjusting to life under alien occupation, he simply replied: "Wuh?"
As is now common knowledge everywhere outside England and (maybe) Burma, aliens from what Fox News has dubbed "the extrasolar star" HD 189733 b have invaded and now control all of Earth's major landmasses and resource deposits. HD 189733 b, first discovered in 2007, is now—as I'm sure you now know—officially known as "the Space Nazi Sex Bunny Homeworld", but is often referred to by hitherto celibate internet geeks (keep reading, it'll make sense infra) like those who read FOUL as "I Gotta Get Me There" and "Planet Better Than Comic Con Even When Christopher Nolan Attends."
While the aliens, referred to as "archontibus" or "Space Nazi Sex Bunnies" in the plural, but to be addressed as "Mistress" or "Domina" in the singular (by men; women are most likely to greet them with the same derisive-yet-despondent snort, sigh or shrug with which they've already greeted this article) have shown moderate interest in Earth's fossil fuels and mineral resources, what they are really here for is sex.
"Sex with the hyumon earthmen is requisite to our survival," said Fifth Fleet Admiral and Earth Imperium Archon of the Greater Eurasian Continent, Ginger. "The energy-rich animus of your—how do you say?—spunk is a profoundly rich source of energy for both our biological systems and our vastly superior technology. Now line up and cum on my tits!"
"We knew it!" said a representative of the Sambia, a Melanesian tribe of child molestors in New Guinea who, for some reason, have to date rejected the advances of Roman Catholic missionaries. "We fucking knew it!"
"Our first step was to study you," said Fourth Militant Hierarchess of the Lower Egypt Nile Delta and First Tactical Spymaster to Her Hotness the Queen of the Earth Mediterraean Sea, Tiffany. "We collected some of your most virulent men—Mick Jagger, Bill Clinton, and Leonardo DiCaprio—in one place. Unfortunately, after they fucked 70 or 80 of us, they'd get bored and insist on watching 'football'—which, quite frankly, confuses us even more than your hyumon ursusagalmatophilia. Even your most virulent hyumon, Mor Gan Free Man, insisted on watching 'the fie null'. You have short attention spans, therefore we must copulate with all of you, and frequently. To that end we have taken your planet by force of arms. Mwa ha ha! I mean, next!"
The invasion, led by Third Marine Directrix and Peer of the Homeworld Camera, Sapphire, employed the unbeatable tactic of deploying ground troops, each armed with a board with a nail in it and wearing a chainmail bikini. They then charged US Army bases headon and said "Oo! chainmail bikinis are so impractical! Oo! it chafes! Won't someone rub oil on me!" Don't Ask, Don't Tell notwithstanding, we never stood a chance. The White House and, you know, stuff, like fell, followed, suit. Excuse me one moment.
All right. Back.
American women quickly rallied, gathering weapons and proclaiming Angela Merkel the "new leader of the world" before, you know, realizing it was Angela Merkel. They then approached Pakistan, but too late! the Space Nazi Sex Bunnies had bought them off with the promise of young boys from the Sambian tribe of New Guinea.
Of course once the US fell, all of the rest of the countries of the world immediately fell, as we're the only thing standing between them and evil, protecting their freedom, and keeping the vile forces of foo at bay.
England, however, still seems unaware of the occupation, and unaffected by changes it has wrought, most notably the Space Nazi Sex Bunnies' voracious demand for "snoo-snoo". When this, um, "arrangement" was explained to Mr. Nogodson, he distractedly responded: "That sounds like the second episode of... Oo! Torchwood's on!" and ran off.
"The thing you have to realize," said Englishwoman Elizabeth Hurley, who actually said "realise", and with whom, as a hitherto celibate internet geek like those who write FOUL, I often have imaginary conversations, "is that, for the English, more shocking than the discovery that there is a planet full of intelligent, sentient alien life, and that said alien life looks exactly like human females except that their skin is green and they're all incredibly hot and none of them is your little sister, so it's okay for them to have sex with as many guys as they want, and technically being a different species are incapable of contracting or transmitting human-compatible venereal diseases, so it's okay for you to have sex with as many of them as you want, is the realizsation that England, who haven't won a World Cup since 1966, did not win the World Cup this year."
"Also, they have awkardly anemic libidos," said Eighth High Priestess of the Holy Procurement of Jism, Franz Beckenbauer's Mother. "We're pretty much better off without 'em."
Fourth Directrix of Mercantile Commerce, Deviser of Audio for Military Suppression Technology, and Witch-Queen of Lombardia, Victoria Beckham, was unavailable for comment.
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