Mission Statement


Immediately after the United Chelsea result in the late afternoon of April 4th, every member of the squad received a mysterious but urgent call to assemble IMMEDIATELY at the London Colney training ground.
Within 30 minutes, every player had arrived. The group was buzzing and speculation was rampant as to the possible purpose of it all.
They waited, and waited some more. They expected Arsene Wenger to walk in at any moment but he did not arrive. As the group became more antsy, one of the players turned his attention to an antique tape recorder that was just sitting there. It was old-school, the kind that barely worked in the sixties.
Mission Impossible Jim Phelps briefing 5 tape recorder
“Should we?” Iwobi asked.
And with that, Xhaka leaned forward and pressed the play button.
Dum dum du dum
dum dum du dum
dum dum du dum
dum dum du dum
diddlummmmm diddlummmmm diddlummmm
du dum.
Dum dum du dum
dum dum du dum
dum dum du dum
dum dum du dum
diddlummmmm diddlummmmm diddlummmm
du dum.
Da daaaah.
Then a man with a thick French accent spoke. BUT it was not the voice of Arsene Wenger:
“Your mission Dan, should you decide to accept it, which you should, given the 100k+ a week they’re fucking paying you… is to go to White Hart Lane on April 30th, and fuck up the Spuds’ season right royally, crush their hearts, extinguish all belief, cause mothers to disavow their sons, sow salt into the fields of Carthage, lay waste to their lands, raze their villages, rape their cattle and stampede their women.
Beyond that, anything else you cats can manage this season is a bonus.
As always, should you or any of your I.M. Force be caught or killed, or make any effort to win the second ball in midfield even, God Forbid… the Secretary will disavow any knowledge of your actions. This tape will self-destruct in five seconds. Good luck, Dan”
And with that, the tape did indeed self-destruct…
91e10ba0a1_mission-impossible-jim-phelps-briefing-6-tape-recorder-self-destructs
Gabriel spoke up to ask the question that no one else was thinking: “Who was that??”
Ozil: “Flamini.”
Mertesacker: “Flamini.”
Koscielny: “Flamini.”
Cech: “Flamini.”
Nacho: “Flamini.”
Walcott: “Flamini.”
Giroud: “Flamini.”
Xhaka: “Flamini.”
Ozil: “Flamini.”
Sanchez: “Flamini.”
Gabriel: “Ahh, right.”
Bellerin in a thick Cockney accent: “Blaaady bio-tech company gone straight to Flammo’s ‘ead, innit?!”
Ozil: “Tell me about it.”
Mertesacker: “Still, he’s not wrong, is he?”
Koscielny: “No, he’s not wrong.  Right then…Who’s for fucking up the Spuds?”