Fun Features

Selling Peter Storrie for dog food and David James' paintings to a woman who smells of cats...it can only be John Nicholson's fevered imagination.But Derek Acorah would make a good owner...

Portsmouth have had a difficult year. A recent statement from the club said: 'The owner and board of Portsmouth Football Club are disappointed at recent inaccurate media speculation regarding the club's finances. Much is happening behind the scenes but constant malicious rumours and speculation do not assist with the proposed major long-term funding that is currently being put in place. Yes, we have sold Peter Storrie for dog food. That's a massive revenue stream for us. We have also secured literally several pounds for David James' paintings at an open auction in a field just off the A288.'

The club denied that James' paintings along with much of the club's infrastructure, equipment and at least three players had been sold to a woman who smells of cats at a car boot sale.

Portsmouth has endured a turbulent year with the ownership of the club changing hands many times.

Fahim sold 90% of his shares to Faraj.

Faraj sold 75% of 32% of 100% of his shares to Farouk Engineer who kept 39% of 61% of half the shares and leased 11% of the remaining 50% to American cattle rustler Trampus Virginian who used 25% of that 50% as a hat and fried the other 25% with onions before committing suicide.

He left his shares in his will to East European rat milk magnate, Bratislava 'Bonkers' Von Bastard III who entrusted his seat on the board to his pet Llama, Harold.

The board was not happy with the Llama's presence on the board and it was bought out, controversially, by the ghost of Michael Jackson who claimed to have been passing by on his way down to see Uri Geller. This was soon revealed as little more than a publicity stunt using mirrors and a crude glove puppet by Derek Acorah who revealed himself to be the real new owner of Portsmouth. Fans were in uproar and demanded he be exorcised.

Acorah's subsequent five hour TV special from the gents toilets at Fratton Park was a rating winner as he successfully banished his own evil spirit with the aid of a toilet duck.

He promptly sold 100% of his shares to a mystery holding company in the Cayman Islands registered under the name Yarrh Ppankder - assumed to be a billionaire from the east.

Meanwhile things have gone from bad to worse on the pitch with David James hair going on strike early in the season. All the best players were sold in return for what were said to be 'top quality baked potatoes'.

As it stands Portsmouth look destined for relegation and a transfer embargo has been imposed on them preventing them from selling any more awful players. "We can't let players this bad be released into the football community," said concerned PFA man Gordon Taylor from a bath of asses' milk while being massaged by golden eagles.

Hope now lies in a new Middle Eastern investor buying the club from mysterious eastern owner Mr Ppankder - a man rumoured to be hideously disfigured. Those who have met him claim his face is, 'like a melted candle and he's so thin he is down to the bare bones'.

The club has recently claimed negotiations are going well and this week's payment of the players with 'premium broken biscuits from Marksies, none of your Rich Tea rubbish', was the first fruits of this new deal.

However, this week, after a nine-and-a-half-hour press conference during which Tony Adams told the media the true meaning of Xmas, offered a re-interpretation of the Lindisfarne Gospels, expounded on Camus' true definition of the existential, showed how to fillet a poisonous Puffer fish and finally claimed he was about to become manager once again, a mystery fire burned the place to the ground putting everyone out of their misery.

Adams later claimed the press conference was just a joke and he was actually the new ruler of Pluto.

"It's been a difficult year but we have great ambition for the club in 2010," said the new club spokesman, from inside of a diplomatic bag while being deported to Saudi Arabia.

Imagined by John Nicholson