It was the start of Liverpool's kick off and I was up and ready to destroy that little midget who dared to say he was the same level as me; I would not let him off so freely. I'll destroy him!
However, unknown to me, the very person that I had just proclaimed to destroy was feeling the same kind of energy to me; he was pissed. Why? Well don't ask me, ask him!
[Julian, I can feel a surge of anger building up in that player over there and it seems to be directed towards you; all I can say is he doesn't carry positive intentions]
"Don't worry, Omega, if that little shit dares to even do anything towards me, I'll flatten his dwarf-looking ass into ground beef. Comprende?"
[Woah, mate, you need to chill out, just don't let that anger get into your head, instead use it on football...Comprende?]
"Yeah, don't worry, and don't repeat me next time" I retorted to Omega, who was probably carrying a stupid sly smile on his face; if he even had one.
"Well, let's get the party started"
At the middle of the centre circle, stood the famous striker Robbie Fowler; someone who Julian feared more than Micheal Owen because of his natural finishing ability; ready to kick the ball to initiate kick off...and besides him...was the little midget Julian hated about to recieve the ball.
"Ummmm, I see...don't worry, midget, you ain't scoring like you did against Argentina" Julian harrumphed with a malicious smile on his face.
[It's not bad to play the villain sometimes I guess]
Fowler quickly passed the ball to the nesting Micheal Owen, who was eyeing Julian with a gaze which was anything but pleasant; it seemed as if he wanted to murder the poor Mancunian.
"You.Me.Now" Owen proudly declared to Julian, thinking to himself, he could easily beat Julian with his speed.
"uhhhh...okay...sure..."Julian tiredly responded with a loud snore which just managed to piss off the little Liverpool player as his pride had been severely hurt.
(Oh, you piece of shit, you won't be acting so lazy when I sprint past your fat ass and score against you; I'll show you how hard work beats talent) Micheal Owen thought to himself in his head, dreaming about various scenarios where he had easily ran past Julian, leaving the latter on the floor, then scoring an overhead kick which was several times better than Julian's himself. He was already drooling about it.
Therefore Micheal Owen's "amazing well-thought plan" commenced as the small Englishman started to sprint at speeds which would even put a cheetah to shame.
One.Two.Three. He was dribbling past all the shocked Man United players; he was like a charging rhino, he would never stop...that is...if Julian wasn't around.
Julian had quickly followed Micheal Owen's path, surprisingly at a leisurely pace...well, a leisurely pace for him...anyways...the young Football King then managed to latch the ball straight out of the midget's feet with just a simple tackle which seemed as if he was not putting any effort; it was as if he didn't consider the dwarf to be anywhere near his level.
This simple feat from Julian shocked the crowd...especially a group of very rich and pretty girls who were screaming at the top of their lungs and holding banners saying "WE LOVE YOU JULIAN" "MARRY ME JULIAN" "HAVE MY BABI-
...sorry, this novel is PG.
Moving on, even the bench and the managers at the sideline were shook to the core; a world class talent like Owen was so easily defeated by Julian; just how much potential and talent did this young man have?Was he already worthy of the title of "The King of Football"?Why was he not on our team?
These questions were all asked by the Liverpool fans, bench and manager, who were lamenting on why they hadn't found Julian before the other team, whilst the Mancunians were singing the recognizable song:
He's one of our own!
He's one of our own!
Julian King, he's one of our own!
Whilst all of this chaos occured, the main perpretator, Julian King, was weirdly questioning himself "Are we even real?" "Do we live in a virtual world?" "Are pancakes cakes?" "Is cereal soup?"
To be fair, haven't we all asked these questions before? Can't blame him.