>into merciful darkness...

...as I woke up to the cacophonic sound of horns and trumpets, which
seemed to obliterate my very thoughts and emotions, I hesistantly
opened my eyes to find myself in a looming library the size of
Dexter's laboratory. The books were plentiful, from Nietzsche to
the Necronomicon (aka Zoe Ball's Footy Hunks), all filled with
the words of wisdom that lasted back a thousand years.

As I desperately tried to stand up I realised that I was numb with
pain. I could not move, not even lift a finger. There I was, lying
on the floor, with not a soul in sight. Still, that sound of horns
and trumpets, and a vivid cheer in the remote. In the backdrop I
could clearly make out Terry Vicker's voice: "Hey, yeah, what a
great party. Man U forever! Buy us a drink Camel. Oi Toynbee, I
love ya, gissa snog!" That familiar cheerful voice. He would come
and help me, I just knew he would. "Terry, help me! I'm stuck here!
Help me, please!" But to no avail.

Then, without warning, the sounds of laughter disappeared, undergoing
a sudden and abrupt diamorphosis of silence, leaving me in nothing
but a shroud of darkness. I was all alone now...

Alone.

"Help!"

No reply.

"Please help me! I'm stuck in a pointless thread! Somebody bring
an end to this, please!"

Still no reply.

Then.

Footsteps.

"Huh?"

Closer.

"Hello?"

Closer still.

"Hello, hello?"

Somebody's here!

"You're under shock. You should try not to move."

The voice behind me was booming with the Anglo-Saxon glee of many a
marvellous gent. I was saved! I looked up to scan the tall stranger
who seemed kneebent on helping me out of my misery. But no. Oh no.
It couldn't be. It just couldn't be!

"Long time no see, Zeigermann." The dark-skinned stranger in a
trenchcoat was no other than...Glenn Hoddle! "I've heard you've been
objecting to my very presence, oh German one. Well, because of your
godless rants I lost my job and now have to contend with playing in the
5-a-side Senior keepy-uppy tournament (sponsored by Guiness TM) for
the rest of my short and pointless life." There I was, numb on the
floor, with no way out of this particularly nasty situation. "You've
gone too far this time, Zeigermann. Now DIE!" I shut my eyes, expecting
the worst. Then I heard bullets. This is it, I thought, This is the
end for Michael Zeigermann.

Then. A thud. I opened my eyes. I was still alive! But...how? I looked up.
Next to me lied Glenn Hoddle's corpse, his eyes filled with terror.
Behind him a figure loomed. "Come, take my hand." Yet another dark-
skinned stranger in a trenchcoat. Except this time I hadn't a clue
who he was. "Oh thank you. Thank you so very much", I shrieked in
delight as I held out my hand. "By the way, I wondered if you could
help me? I'm stuck in this pointless thread and I'd really like to
know a way out." The stranger harked back. "That I cannot tell you,
my son. You must look within yourself. One day you will find the
answer. Now come, we have to go. The Hodster planted some bombs to
destroy the evidence, this building is going to be nothing but rubble
in five minutes."

He put me in a wheelie bin and rolled me out to safety. As we zoomed
across the hallway, the library was being engulfed in flames, taking
Glenn Hoddle into the fiery depths of Hades for good. We watched the
fire from afar as the dark-skinned stranger lit up a Marlboro and
stared into the starry sky. "So long, Hoddle." he said without
emotion.

"Thanks for helping me out," I barked. "No problem," the dark-skinned
stranger replied. But still, something bothered me about him. It must
have been the way he walked. There was something strange about this
fella. There was a question I just *had* to ask him. "Erm...this might
sound a bit strange, what with you being a mysterious person who always
appears in this sort of amateur internet story, but...who are you?"
"Don't you know?" he replied sheepishly. Then he took off his mask...

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>"Don't you know?" he replied sheepishly. Then he took off his mask...

It was Hitler.

Well, you did say you wanted an end to the thread.

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>It was Hitler.

"No chance Godwin. You won't get away with this!", I yelled as I reached
into my back pockets to find my trusty Desert Eagle. I pulled it out,
reached for the trigger, and within a split second mowed Adolf to the
ground. His blood-drenched, lifeless corpse was spread out in front of
me as I realised the full extent of my actions. "Well, at least the
thread is saved. For now." I whispered anxiously.

I gazed upon the full moon, my every blood vessel bursting with rage.
Hitler, Hoddle and Brolin had all met their match. Not bad, I thought.
Godwin had tried to kill this thread, but I was quick to react with all
my sheer might. I ran off into the distance, looking for a place to
rest my tortured bones. The moon was shimmering across the horizon,
and I swore for just one split second I could make out Sheringham's
face within mother Earth's trusty companion, his dureresque visage
smiling upon me with gratitude. Am I going insane? It didn't really
matter anymore.

Across the fields, I saw lights. And then this *laughter* again. This
cacophony of celebratious laughter. At last, I thought, At last I can
save my impudent soul. I ran as fast as I could to reach the wooden
door, and as fast as I could I banged on the door. The door quietly
opened, and it looked like I had finally reached my destination...

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>The door quietly
>opened, and it looked like I had finally reached my destination...

Zeigermann stepped through the door and he closed it as quickly as he
could, shutting out the demons that were chasing him. Leaning up against
it rolled his head back and closed his eyes. He allowed himself to relax
and slowly slide to the floor relieved the nightmare was over. He opened
his eyes and stared into the blackness, blinking rapidly in the false
belief his eyesight would adjust to the darkness a lot quicker. 

The silence was shattered by the noise of a switch being operated and
the whole room lit up in an instant explosion of light. Zeigermann
cowered against the door and covered his eyes with his hands ..He tried
to speak .. "What the fuck is going on?" but the words never left his
mouth, the light streamed into his eyes and he looked up squinting to
see an ominous figure walking slowly towards him. Zeigermann lowered his
hands slowly and gasped in disbelief at who he saw. "Glover ... I don't
believe it" said Zeigermann ... who was now trying to get on his feet.

Glover removed a shiny article from his jacket pocket and handed it to
the woman on his left. He then spoke. "Actually Mr Zeigermann it's DI
Glover to you, and I'm arresting you in connection with the deaths of
Hitler, Brolin and Hoddle. I am also arresting you for the attempted
murder on Applegate, and possessing or intending to supply videos of
Teddy Sherringam under the offensive video act of 1998. You don't have
to say anything but anything you do say may be used against you.". With
that Glover stared impassively at WPC Conlan "What you waiting for Miss,
I gave you the cuffs, get this man locked up and slung in a cell".

Zeigermann screamed "I'm innocent Glover, you wont pin nothing on me, I
have friends in Germany, YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS GLOVER YOU STITCH UP
BASTARD".

Glover smiled at Zeigermann and in an almost humorous voice said " Yees
Mr Zeigermann ve hav vays of making you talk HAHAHAHAHAH!". 

With Zeigermann awaiting questioning Glover and Conlan sifted through
the evidence, it was damning in places, Applegate although almost
murdered had surrounded himself in a sea of corruption, vice and illegal
activity. He was running a protection racket and dressing it up as some
kind of football archive, but it didn't make sense. Glover racked his
brains as Conlan poured the coffee, how did Zeigermann get involved and
why the 3 mysterious deaths? What was Snaps doing in the office and why
the Kevin Keegan mask? What about the Colligan connection? He had to
find answers and fast. Maybe a search of Applegates office might throw
something up, perhaps there's a scandal involving Julie J? Maybe he
should call the doc for a psychological profile? Glover was thinking
hard and was disturbed by a knock at the door.

He didn't know it but it was Snaps ....The lethal delivery man from
hell. Wearing an Alex Ferguson mask he handed over a box to Glover.
"Delivery for DI Glover" said Snaps in a high pitched weedy voice as he
scuttled quickly out of the door, Glover opened the box to find a
football signed by Teddy Sherringham. It was no ordinary football though
because ordinary footballs do not tick. "Run for your fucking life" he
screamed as the detective duo ran from the room. 

Seconds later a huge explosion wrecked the office and sent up a pall of
smoke and fire hundreds of feet in the air.... the station was wrecked,
Zeigermann was free and Glovers scale model of Stamford Bridge was in
ruins. As Glover recovered on the floor his mobile Nokia buzzed into
life, he fumbled in his jacket and put the phone to his ear ... his face
dropped as the voice spoke ...

it was .......