Let’s cross back over to India
ladies and gentlemen.
Here we have a cow,
Helga Longhorn, walking around the streets,
it’s a cow friendly neighbourhood.
Considering a large portion of the population in India
is vegetarian,
Helga feels safe to be walking around.
She’s like one of the people.
She’s got a house, a car, a bank account,
she’s allowed to vote,
and as we can see
she’s very fond of soccer.
The cheeky sheila has been passionate
about the sport since she was a calf.
Her inspirations are cliché, yet admirable:
Beckham, Ronaldo, Messi, and of course Timmy Cahill
from the socceroos.
I believe Tim offered her a position
to play with the Socceroos
in the last World Cup.
And why wouldn’t ya?
Look at that sexy as fuck foot work.
Those cow feet are strong yet dexterous,
nimble yet stable.
She is like “which one of you dickheads
wants to try take this from me.
C’mon. Man up.
Have a go.
Try to fucken tackle me and see what happens."
Anyway, as I said
Tim wanted her to join the socceroos.
Unfortunately, she couldn’t make it to Russia.
She had to decline the opportunity
due to Cow Based Responsibilities.
It’s the saddest “almost famous” story
in sports.
Aw look at this dodgy wanker.
He tried to sneak up on Helga from behind.
She’s too aware, though.
She has eyes in the back of her head.
These fellas are like seagulls
trying to steal ya fish and chips.
Lurking, circling, she yells “fuck off”
and another shit-cunt has a go at her.
He fails miserably and has to jog on like a little bitch.
Helga scoots away,
putting some space between her
and the opponents.
I’m not criticising her,
but I would like to see a shot on goal
soon.
Aw look out,
the vultures are back.
And there’s interference on the field,
it’s Vitaly’s girlfriend,
oh no it’s a bloke
going to pick the kids up
from school.
Have a look at this smug face.
These fellas truly think they can defeat Helga.
She’s World Cup material and—Oh they got it.
What the fuck were you doing Helga?
Bloody hell.
Now she’s nothing but a piggy in the middle.
All of these blokes are yelling at her,
making fun of her,
they’re like “show us your email from Tim Cahill again.”
Obviously, it was a fake email.
These guys tricked Helga.
I hate getting tricked by Indian scammers.
It’s happened to me half a dozen times,
this one time in New Delhi,
a guy in a rickshaw said he’d take me to the Red Fort,
I never saw the Red Fort.
I spent half a day in his uncle’s retail shop
where I bought a cashmere scarf
and a Big Fuck Off Ancient Knife.
Of course, the knife got confiscated by customs,
I was questioned and stripped naked—anyway
this story is not about me.
It’s about Helga
and the bastards that stole her soccer ball...
football…nah, soccer ball.
