THRUSH Picks Secret Volcano Island Base, Sun To Host World Cups

Angry UK football fans are furious with The Man From AUNTIE, blaming international crime syndicate THRUSH’s controversial choice of a secret base inside a hollowed-out volcano and the surface of the sun for the 2018 and 2022 World Cup competitions on Napoleon Solo’s hard-hitting undercover report.

Bloody investigative reporters

“The overwhelming evidence of massive THRUSH corruption gathered by the dashing Mr Solo and his trusty fellow reporter, Ilya Kuryakin, at great personal risk to themselves surely proves that this was a perfectly legitimate topic for investigation,” retorted AUNTIE’s Director-General, Mr Waverley, in response to demands from irate football supporters for the immediate shutdown of his organisation. “Besides, by 2018 Britain will be buried forever under a glacier half a mile thick.”

Fans, however, still insist that Mr Solo’s microfilm, rather than monumental bribery on an international scale, was responsible for THRUSH’s perverse decision – despite strenuous refutals from the organisation itself.

“Our decision to award the hosting of the 2018 World Cup to a secret island base somewhere in the Pacific Ocean was based entirely on the imaginative presentation by SPECTRE bid leader Ernst Stavro Blofeld of $500 million in unmarked banknotes,” said an anonymous THRUSH operative. “His evil henchmen are already hard at work constructing a dozen underground stadia which, they promise, will be filled to capacity by football fans kidnapped from all over the world.”

“These fans will be held hostage for four years,” he explained, “At which point they will be delivered by a series of rockets straight to the next host venue, the sun, in return for exclusive rights to all forms of solar energy, the profits from which Mr Blofeld’s organisation has kindly offered to split 50/50 with us.”

“It’s ingenious, diabolical and exploitative,” he added. “I wish we’d thought of it ourselves.”

England Fans Finally Beginning To Understand Why Their Teams Are Full Of Foreigners

As the FA meets to consider how Fabio Capello will be publicly executed, millions of sobbing England football fans are starting to exhibit early signs that a glimmer of understanding has dawned on them, linking the preponderance of foreign players in the domestic leagues in some way to their national side’s lacklustre performance in the World Cup.

In comparison to the lithe, gazelle-like foreign teams bounding majestically across the South African turf, England’s stumpy native players can easily be distinguished by prominent, ridged brows which overshadow their little piggy eyes as they extend down to their prognathous lower jaws, making them resemble monstrous troll/clam hybrids, or possibly Klingons with alopecia.

“It looks like our century-long pedigree breeding programme, taking advantage of rampant inner-city incest to produce the perfect footballer, may have backfired horribly,” conceded an FA spokesman, shortly after the national side’s crashing 4-1 humiliation at the hands of the German side.

The tennis at Wimbledon is suddenly achieving record viewing figures, however, as disgusted fans turn their backs on the World Cup and switch their loyal support to Andy Murray.

“I hear this Murray bloke’s in with a bloody good chance of putting the ball in the net,” grunted a typical tearstained fan, cheering loudly at every bad serve. “What? Oh.”

Meanwhile, somewhere in the world, Lewis Hamilton’s rocket-powered bathtub was beaten into second place by somebody or other - probably a foreigner - although nobody was there to see it.

Drunk England Declared A Hazard To Navigation

International maritime officials today designated England a major shipping hazard, after the drink-sodden nation celebrated its World Cup victory over Slovenia by wrenching itself away from Scotland and Wales and staggering obnoxiously around the North Sea.

The unprecedented seismic event began at 15:23 BST, just after striker Jermain Defoe remembered the point of playing football and managed to put a ball in a net. The sozzled island nation reacted by lurching free from the European continental shelf – creating a kilometre-high tsumani in the process, which is expected to cause unimaginable devastation along the New England coastline around 23:00 Eastern Daylight Time – and staggering into the North Atlantic, colliding with Portugal and knocking it loose from Spain, before running past the west coast of Ireland shouting gibberish.

In a geological singularity which seismologists will be puzzling over for years to come, England then grasped Cornwall and Kent and pulled them up over Cumbria and Northumberland. It then charged blindly into Norway - where it was violently sick - before trying unsuccessfully to barge past Denmark into the Baltic Sea.

After spending several unconvincing minutes embarrassing itself by repeatedly insisting that Germany was its best mate in the world ever, England then tripped over Scotland and briefly knocked itself senseless against Belgium. When it came to, it called France a wanker several times before wandering off aimlessly in the general direction of Greenland.

“Unfortunately England has a tendency to drink to excess at the best of times, and this is exacerbated whenever a millionaire kicks a ball,” said a spokesman for the International Maritime Organisation. “Fortunately we anticipated this situation, and all shipping has been rerouted into the Mediterranean for the next 24 hours - by which time England will probably be feeling like shit, having woken up late for work and covered in piss.”

The EU is convening a special meeting later, in which mainland Europe’s heads of state will eagerly scrutinise the Maastricht Treaty to see if England’s antics provide a convenient excuse for kicking it out.

Holiday In South Africa (extended version)

(with apologies to the Dead Kennedys)

So you played the pools for a year or two
And you know you've seen it all
Flags on your car and a vuvuzela
Back home your type don't crawl

Show the world you’re a lout blastin’ James Corden’s ‘Shout’
From your 10-watt stereo
Braggin': “Fabio’s got the team for the goals
And we’ll win without Rio”

It's time to taste what you most fear
Rooney will not help you here
Brace yourself, my dear:

It's a holiday in South Africa
It's football, but we’re shite
It's a holiday in South Africa
Paint your fat face red and white.

You're a pot-bellied fan, you scream “In-gur-land!”
You want everyone to ‘respeck’ you
Kick ass while you drip at the cost of the strip
While the players get richer off you

Well you'll look stupid with a gun in your back
For causing an affray
Shout for a consul till you starve
Then your ass is served up on a plate

Now you can go where people are one
Now you can go to a mixed-race prison
What you need, my son:

Is a holiday in South Africa
Where the folks are mostly black
A holiday in South Africa
Where you’ve landed in the cack

Ing Lund, Ing Lund, Ing Lund, Ing Lund, [etc]

Ex-ten-ded holiday in South Africa
Where you'll do what you're told
A holiday in South Africa
Where you’ll look like an arsehole -
Inglund!

(Don’t forget to pre-order the unofficial follow-up hit - ‘I Fought The Boer’!)

Ingurlund Win World Cup

Jubilant football fans were still dancing in the streets today, after Ingurlund's stunning World Cup victory yesterday.

With the Ingurlund side drawn against Alaska, Sealand and Pluto in Group C of the tournament, the coveted cup is coming home to Ingurlund without the need for a single kick.

"How can we lose?" smiled team manager Fabio Capello. "The Alaskans have to float all the way to South Africa on an ice floe. The current's against them, the polar bear will be getting hungry and the ice will melt soon anyway. Even if they crossed the Atlantic safely, they'd only trip over their mukluks and die of heatstroke."

"As for Sealand - the abandoned artillery platform in the Channel which was occupied by a retired major who declared its independence in 1967 - they haven't actually had a football team since their ball went over the side in 2003 and floated away," he added. "And the Plutonian team won't reach Earth until 2012. Can I have the trophy now, please? I've cleared a place on the mantelpiece."

World Cup organisers have today sounded a note of caution, however, pointing out that the draw only covers the first round of the tournament - meaning that the victors of Group C will still have to play against other teams, some of whom are actually quite good and know what a goal looks like.

"It don't matter," yelled a drunken football fan lying in a gutter in Kentish Town. "After smashing the eskimoes, the pirate crew and the little green men, our brave boys will be so confident nuffink will stop 'em. Ingurlund! Ingurlund! Ingurlund!"

England Ecstatic Over Winning Something Or Other

All of England's problems were solved forever this afternoon, when some sportsmen won something off the Australians.

Triumphant grunts of "Engerlund! Engerlund!" echoed across this happy land as football fans leapt from their sofas and joyfully punched the air, spilling cans of Castlemaine 4X all over the dog, which they then hugged and kissed in jubilation.

"Jer see it?" screamed one delighted Manchester United supporter as he fell out of a heaving bar in Islington. "Everyone on the pitch seemed to be wearin' ver white strip uv Engerlund. Them Aussie fuckers wunt nowhere to be seen, I tell yer. Engerlund!"

A marginally less ignorant Arsenal supporter raised his chin from a pool of regurgitated Fosters to shout "Engerlund" several dozen times before observing that "We mustuv scared the shit artuv that Aussie goalie. 'E wuz 'idin' behind sum sawta plank 'e must of faand, lookin' like faw two pins 'e mite juss run awf an' 'ide. I lorst cant uv the goalie substichooshuns they made, muss uv bin gitin' on faw fifteen I reckon. Engerlund 'ad puzzeshun uv the ball from start ta finish, they wuz juss chuckin it rand like they wuz 'avin' a larf! Classic footy."

"Engerlund!" he explained, several times, before falling unconscious again.

Meanwhile, Britain's cricket fans - most of whom, strangely, seem to be neither white nor alcoholics - were said to be waiting patiently for India, Pakistan and the West Indies to walk all over the victorious England team in a series of predictable test-match defeats.

England Made Me

The British government faces heavy criticism after admitting that it spent a total of £230 on promoting St George’s Day over the last five years.

The sum is broken down into £116 spent in 2007, £114 in 2006 and nothing at all in the preceding three years.

Apopleptic cabbies and football fans across England, outraged at the insult to their national pride, vowed to put even larger flags on their car aerials - even if it meant they couldn’t actually see where they were going.

“When we had an empire, everything in the world was just peachy, wunnit?” screamed a Mr Garnett. “Land of ‘ope and Glory? Yaw’re ‘avin’ a larf, mate. This useta be the best bladdy cantry in the world - nah look at it. Them ruddy foreigners is larfin’ at us – larfin’, I tell yer.”

Meanwhile, MPs representing the other three nations of the UK called for an inquiry into the gross waste of public money.