Well hello there.
I see you’ve caught me scoring against Arsenal at the Emirates. Yet again. This was an especially satisfying conquest since few people gave Monaco a chance. But like when I pop out of your oversized birthday cake completely nude, we gave them quite the surprise. Ha-HA!
This glorious evening brought back memories of my equally glorious days with Spurs and Fulham, back when I was known as the Coitus King of London. I have also been known as the Coitus King of Manchester and, of course, the Coitus King of Bulgaria, but I was not known as the Coitus King of Leverkusen — that title belonged to a local 15-year-old who had girlfriends all over Canada…he was my hero. … Yes, people actually called me that. Far too many to name individually. But that’s not the point. The point is that while I held that title, I used to call my cousin Timitar Berbatov’s carpeted van Humpingham Palace. Now I call it the Monte Humplo Casino. Admittedly, that isn’t as good as its previous name.
Back to the topic at hand, my performance was even more impressive compared to that of fellow devilishly handsome striker, Olivier Giroud, who missed several golden chances to score for Arsenal. Evidently, he simply isn’t as good at finishing as The Berba is. As you should know by now, I can finish anywhere. Whether all alone, one-v-one, or amongst a group. And usually without even trying. Ha-HA!
Many people counted Monaco out long before the first leg began, but we won’t make that same mistake with Arsenal going into the second. We will remain focused and keep the Berbatude of sensual underdogs. Speaking of which, would you care to accompany me for some finishing practice back at Humpingham Palace? If you say yes, I promise you’ll end up with the same look of disappointment as Arsene Wenger…
No? Well then just like Arsene, it’s your loss. Ha-HA!
Join us again next time for another chapter in the life of…The Continental…