My dream football team — football_team 🇬🇧

Matchday 1 — vs Paris Saint-Glinglin

1-1 (L)

GOAAAL for Paris Saint-Glinglin! The keeper got a hand to it but couldn't keep it out.

Count Dracula delivers a tidy ball to Zendaya, the kind of pass that does not make the highlights but does all the dirty work. Zendaya winds up from FAR OUT and FIIIIRES! The ball flies and ends in the goal, the keeper is stunned, GOOOAL!

Full moonwalk from Count Dracula, penalty spot to halfway line, timing immaculate. Frankenstein's monster does the bassline, hand-on-mouth move, in sync. Søren Kierkegaard applauds slowly, cringing grin on his face. Every phone in the stadium is lit up.

The match has hit a real flat patch, no urgency whatsoever. Massive clearance from Mary, just get the ball as far away as possible. Massive punt from Søren Kierkegaard, sends the ball sixty yards, Krampus is scrapping for it up top. Krampus tries to pick out Count Dracula on the flank but the pass is straight at a defender. Missed.

Søren Kierkegaard goes long for Jacob Tremblay, the ball flies straight into the opposition half. The actor finds Frankenstein's monster along the ground, clean and tidy. That kind of pass looks easy but it takes a reading of the game that is way above average. Frankenstein's monster launches it to Leo XIV on the opposite wing. Raw, direct, and devastatingly effective.

The player opens up to Frankenstein's monster on the far side. That is exactly the kind of pass he is paid to deliver. Aerial duel won by the monster, he crushes it in the air. When you have that leap in that role, you rule your box. Three on one and they find a way to mess it all up, unbelievable. He shapes up, he shoots... WHAT A HIT from Count Dracula! On target but the keeper palms it onto the bar!

Krampus paces up and down the dressing room, unable to sit still. Adrenaline and frustration mixed together in equal measure. The gaffer blocks {his} path: "Sit down. Breathe. Channel all of that into the next forty-five minutes. I need you sharp, not frantic. Understood?" Krampus exhales and sits. Scouts initially spotted Mary not on a pitch but in a Greggs queue, where the 2008-year-old demonstrated elite spatial awareness and patience beyond his years. At 180, the lad dominated the sausage roll section. And now, our TV game show Pointless But True! To win a parking permit for Slough, text 1234 and answer this question: 'How many pints fit inside a standard British apology?' The PA announces the restart and the stadium comes alive. Mary is already in position, feet planted, shoulders square. Locked and loaded.

Lovely cross from the necromancer on the free kick! In that position, when you have got that kind of delivery, you become the set piece specialist. Krampus tries to find Santa Claus with a cross but the defender cuts it out.

The game has stalled, both managers look frustrated on the touchline. Raking ball from the monster to Zendaya, surgical precision. In that position, vision is half the job. The movie actor/actress wins the aerial duel with authority. In that position, heading is the foundation, and he has just reminded everyone why he starts. Quick exchange between Zendaya and Julia Roberts, triangles all over the pitch, the opposition is chasing shadows.

Blistering counter, but the one dribble too many kills the whole move. Ball in behind from the actor, Frankenstein's monster is through on goal. That is the kind of pass that justifies the price tag all on its own. Frankenstein's monster is flagged offside by the narrowest of margins, Mary wants answers from the ref. The referee jogs over to the screen, both sets of players watching his every move. Massive call coming.

Leo XIV anticipates the pass and intercepts cleanly. The opposition midfielder thought he had found the gap, but it was a trap. Leo XIV links up with Victor Frankenstein, one touch each, bang bang, the opposition cannot keep up. Victor Frankenstein switches the play to Santa Claus on the far side, superb crossfield ball! Short build-up from Santa Claus to Frankenstein's monster, playing out from the back, keeping it safe.

Ferocious high press, the ball carrier is in full panic mode. Jacob Tremblay blocks the run of the opponent, uses the body well but the ref says no. Jacob Tremblay whips it over the wall but the free kick sails over the crossbar. Poor execution.

Counter perfect until the last yard when everything goes haywire. Key pass from Count Dracula! It fizzes between the lines and Julia Roberts collects on the run, the defence is left for dead.

1-1 and off we go. Søren Kierkegaard hands his shirt to a kid in the front row, the smile comes back a little. Krampus does the same few metres down the line. Not a win, but not a shame either. And the kids couldn't care less — they got a shirt. And here's the answer to Pointless But True! Keith Drizzleton, from Slough, correctly answered the question, which was 'How many pints fit inside a standard British apology?'. The answer was of course three and a half, or four if you really mean it. Keith wins this magnificent parking permit for Slough! And for our late-night viewers: 'Location, Location, Location — but it's just Kirstie and Phil arguing in a Greggs about whether you can afford to live anywhere south of Carlisle.'

Matchday 2 — vs México No-Era-Penal

1-2 (L)

The overlap from Count Dracula, he leaves the opposing full-back for dead. Count Dracula is CUT DOWN in the box by the defender! Penalty! The referee is sure of himself, he points to the spot. The moment is VITAL, nobody is breathing in the ground! GOOOOOAL! Count Dracula winds up and fires top corner, the keeper was rooted. PENALTY CONVERTED!

Count Dracula legs it straight to the away end, vaults the advertising hoardings and plants himself face-to-face with their supporters. Krampus tries to follow, gets nabbed by stewards. The home end loses it completely. Absolute bedlam.

Beautiful distribution from Søren Kierkegaard to Jacob Tremblay, a long kick that looks like it came from a midfielder. Smooth transition from Jacob Tremblay to Victor Frankenstein, no delay, the game keeps flowing. The scientist plays it simple to Zendaya, neat little ball into feet. Tidy.

GOAL! México No-Era-Penal have scored! Oh no, the defence has been caught napping.

Double backflip off the penalty spot from Søren Kierkegaard. Jacob Tremblay is on his knees clapping, Søren Kierkegaard is screaming 'ARE YOU MENTAL?!' from forty yards away. The home end gets to their feet, flags flapping, scarves overhead. Raw.

The free kick is played as a short pass by Count Dracula, Krampus picks it up and drives forward. Krampus shapes up and hits it, just wide but it grazed the bar. The technique was there, the finish just wasn't. Lovely on the eye but completely sterile, no penetration at all. Jacob Tremblay lets rip and sends it to the moon. No other way to describe that.

Interception from Santa Claus who sweeps up in midfield. The passer thought he had found the gap, but he did not account for the vision of Santa Claus. Lovely transition but the shot is like he was scared of the goal. Zendaya winds up and FIRES! It's wide but it brushed the upright. Unlucky!

The keeper slams {his} gloves against the wall: "I cannot do it all on my own! Where is the protection?!" Mary takes the hit without responding. Søren Kierkegaard drops {his} head. The gaffer intervenes: "Nobody is pointing fingers. We are ALL in this mess together. Now we get ourselves out of it. Together." Inside info here — Leo XIV insists on sitting in the same seat on the team bus, second row, window side. If anyone takes it, he stands in the aisle and stares at them until they move. At 71, he's earned that level of passive aggression. And now, our TV game show Who Wants to Win a Kebab! To win a Wetherspoons voucher for 47p, text 7878 and answer this question: 'How many coat hooks are needed to sustain a marriage?' The ball rolls and we are back in action. Mary picks it up in midfield and plays it forward with purpose. The tempo has shifted. You can feel it.

The opposition piles forward but the block is impenetrable. Søren Kierkegaard blocks with the leg! The ball ricochets and goes out for a throw. Pure composure. Søren Kierkegaard opts for the short option to Julia Roberts, keeping possession, building play, no panic.

Victor Frankenstein sends a wicked free kick into the area, Santa Claus is lurking with intent. The distribution manager thumps his header wide of the post. In that position, chances like that do not come around often, shame about the accuracy. We're in the doldrums, both sides seem content to knock it about at the back.

Oh that's poor! México No-Era-Penal score from a set piece. We switched off completely.

Tame stuff all round, nobody's willing to take a risk. Jacob Tremblay steps across the opponent and impedes the run. Obstruction. Free kick. Jacob Tremblay gives it to Krampus from the free kick, little dummy to create the angle. Step-overs from Krampus, the defender is glued to the spot. That is a joy to watch. Just wide! Krampus struck it well but lacked that tiny bit of precision.

Corner from Frankenstein's monster, the ball's pinballing around the box, bodies everywhere, defense finally clears! The archbishop lets fly and it's on target! Keeper pushes it for a corner. In that position, having the courage to pull the trigger is what sets you apart.

Dummy from Zendaya, the defender dives in and ends up on the deck. Done. The movie actor/actress goes down looking for a penalty, but the referee waves play on. Nothing doing. The movie actor/actress gets cautioned for a blatant dive, embarrassing for someone at that level. Free kick from Zendaya but it hits the wall, no miracle today. Corner from Santa Claus, the ball travels across the box but a defender clears at the far post.

Søren Kierkegaard takes his time and plays it short to Santa Claus. The press is on but the keeper does not flinch. The distribution manager positions himself in the passing lane and intercepts the ball. In that role, reading the game is the invisible weapon, and he has just pulled it out at the perfect moment. Long ball from Santa Claus to Leo XIV, travels like a letter in the post. Flawless change of wing.

Defeat. Søren Kierkegaard sits on the pitch long after the whistle, knees pulled up, replaying every mistake in his head. Leo XIV comes back out from the tunnel to get him: "Come on, mate. Can't stay here all night." The groundsman's already got the sprinklers going. And here's the answer to Who Wants to Win a Kebab! Gerald Musty-Carpet, from Stoke-on-Trent, correctly answered the question, which was 'How many coat hooks are needed to sustain a marriage?'. The answer was of course a minimum of six, studies from the University of Barnsley confirm this. Gerald wins this magnificent Wetherspoons voucher for 47p! Next up: 'Motorway Cops: The M25 at 5pm on a Friday.' Four hours of footage. Nobody moves. Narrator falls asleep. BAFTA-nominated.

Matchday 3 — vs Casablanca Dima-Maghrib

1-2 (L)

Victor Frankenstein flies into the ball carrier and forces the mistake. Ball won back in the opposition half, that is exactly the plan. The scientist finds the gap that nobody else saw and puts Frankenstein's monster clean through. Pure genius from that position. Frankenstein's monster was THERE, as always! On the badly cleared ball, he prods it in and signs his trademark. GOAL!

Corner from Frankenstein's monster, Leo XIV heads it but it sails over the crossbar. Frustrating! Søren Kierkegaard sends an absolute rocket towards Victor Frankenstein, almighty clearance, the ball covers half the pitch. That's a beauty from Victor Frankenstein! Slides across the turf and takes the ball off the attacker's boot. Clinical defending. Supersonic transition, but the final shot ends up in the clouds.

The opponent gets the better of the scientist in the header. In his role, that is the kind of situation where concentration must be at its peak. OHHHH Søren Kierkegaard stretches the leg out at the last possible moment! The ball deflects off his shin and goes for a corner! Søren Kierkegaard plays it short to Julia Roberts, building out from the back. Calculated risk.

And it's in! Casablanca Dima-Maghrib take advantage of a dreadful mix-up at the back.

Zendaya gifts Victor Frankenstein a highway with a pass in behind the last defender. The kind of service that is worth a goal. DUEL won by Søren Kierkegaard! He comes out at the feet, claims the ball, CLEAN and CRISP! The team in a low block is impenetrable, every cross dealt with. Magnificent tackle from Santa Claus! Sweeps the ball away from the attacker just as he was about to pull the trigger. Santa Claus boots the ball as far as he possibly can with an emergency clearance. Zero style, one hundred percent effectiveness.

The gaffer pulls up the replay on his tablet and shoves it in Søren Kierkegaard's face: "Look at that. A gap size of the Grand Canyon in our backline and you are ball-watching. BALL. WATCHING. What are you, a spectator?!" Søren Kierkegaard takes it on the chin. There is nothing to say. The evidence is damning. The 28-year-old Victor Frankenstein reportedly starts every morning by staring out the window with a brew for exactly eleven minutes in complete silence. At 180, the silhouette alone is enough to terrify the postman. And now, our TV game show Richard and Judy's Revenge! To win a book club pick nobody actually read, text 4789 and answer: 'What percentage of book club members actually finish the book?' The floodlights feel brighter for the second half. Krampus squints up at them, takes a deep breath, and takes {his} position. Forty-five minutes. Everything to play for.

Lightning counter, striker's away on his bike and the defence is chasing shadows. Overlap from the scientist with pure pace. That is exactly what you want from a player in that position: drive and destroy. Victor Frankenstein tries to dribble past his marker but the ball escapes him. The defender pounces. What a chance squandered, the counter was perfect until the last ball.

Strikers making run after run, long balls flying in every time. Mad sprint from the philosopher Søren Kierkegaard, arriving just in time in the box. Santa Claus wins the header in a crowded box, he popped up above three players. That man is an aircraft. One touch football: Santa Claus to Jacob Tremblay, faster than the opposition can think.

Søren Kierkegaard fires it out quickly by hand to Leo XIV, the opposition defence is not set yet. Smart. The archbishop reads the pass and intercepts cleanly. When you have that reading ability in that position, you snuff out attacks before they even begin. Lovely use of the ball by Leo XIV, finding Victor Frankenstein in a tight pocket of space. Quality.

GOAAAL! Casablanca Dima-Maghrib make it count! Sliced through us like a hot knife through butter.

Textbook low block, the opposition can't find a way through at all. The archbishop launches the ball skyward under pressure from the attacker. It is not glamorous, but in that position it is exactly that kind of action that prevents disasters. We're watching paint dry, this has become a real war of attrition. Superb diagonal from the necromancer to Santa Claus, the ball sails across the entire pitch. When you have got that wand of a foot, you use it.

Brilliant tackle from Santa Claus! Slides in, wins the ball, and comes away clean. That is textbook defending. Short pass from the distribution manager to Jacob Tremblay, no frills, just efficiency. The bare minimum for someone at this level. Jacob Tremblay launches a forty-yard crossfield pass to Victor Frankenstein, ambitious, clean, and it comes off beautifully.

Blistering counter but the final touch is sorely lacking in quality. Victor Frankenstein pierces the backline with a low through ball, Jacob Tremblay latches onto it at full tilt. Magnificent. Offside by a toenail for the actor, Krampus can't believe the flag went up.

It's not our day and everyone knows it. Mary shakes the ref's hand — barely — and walks off. Frankenstein's monster is already on the bench, head in hands, replaying that missed chance on a loop. The physio drapes a jacket over his shoulders. Cold night. Cold result. Christine from Eastbourne says roughly twelve percent finish the book and the rest just say it was quite good actually. Book club pick for Christine! Coming up after the break: 'Escape to the Country, but the budget is £47 and the country is a layby near Swindon.' Dreams are free. Houses are not.

Matchday 4 — vs Dakar Teranga FC

2-2 (L)

Firm pass from Victor Frankenstein into Julia Roberts, right into the boots. No waste. The film producer takes on his man and leaves him for dead. In that position, the short dribble is the ultimate weapon. Julia Roberts looks at the keeper, sees the angle, and places his shot! It is in, IT IS A GREAT GOAL!

And it's a goal! Dakar Teranga FC punish us for that sloppy defending. Heads will roll.

Solid as a rock, the block holds under pressure. Counter is perfect until the last second when everything falls apart. GOOOOOOAL! Julia Roberts meets the pass from Jacob Tremblay and places an unstoppable curling effort. The keeper was a spectator!

Julia Roberts does a 180 in mid-air, lands with fist raised, screams at the sky. Mary launches himself into his arms out of nowhere, both crash down. Søren Kierkegaard arrives yelling 'TAKE ME WITH YOU!' and dives on top. Joyful chaos.

It's a goal for Dakar Teranga FC! The ball has gone in off the post, cruel luck.

Perfect back flip from Søren Kierkegaard right in front of the home end, five-star landing. Count Dracula tries the same behind him, lands flat on his arse, the whole squad doubled over laughing. Even Søren Kierkegaard has made it up, hands on knees, breathless. Proper scenes.

Victor Frankenstein plays it to Santa Claus on the short corner, the defense comes out to press. Santa Claus slides it to Mary, inch-perfect pass along the deck. Lovely. Mary curls it and it's GOIIIIING... on target but the keeper dives and pushes it wide. What a save!

VAR complaints are flying around the dressing room. "That was a stonewall penalty, how has he not given that?" Victor Frankenstein is livid, gesturing wildly. Zendaya chips in: "Absolute shambles, the officiating." The gaffer cuts them off: "Forget the ref. We control what we can control. Now sit down and listen." A gorgeous bit of intel — Mary once entered a pub quiz in Wolverhampton under the team name 'Definitely Not A Footballer.' Won the whole thing. Prize was a meat raffle and a crate of Carling. At 2008, that's what peak performance looks like. And now, our TV game show Would I Lie to the Council! To win planning permission for a shed, text 0800SHED and answer: 'How many forms does it take to get planning permission for a garden shed two inches too tall?' Out they come. Leo XIV has changed {his} boots at the break and is already pinging the ball around to get a feel. Business time.

This has turned into a real scrap, with no invention and no drive. Good ball from the necromancer to Julia Roberts, playing it quick between the lines. That is what he does. Julia Roberts beats his man with a sharp outside cut, the skill is absolutely effortless. Perfect low cut-back from Julia Roberts, the ball slides across the box and Leo XIV just has to finish. Lay-off from Leo XIV to Krampus, one touch, moving forward, retaining possession. That is the game plan.

Ball into space from Mary, Count Dracula just has to run onto it and collect. Simple and genius. Powerful run from Count Dracula down the flank, he goes past the full-back as if he is not there. The necromancer dinks his cross over the centre-backs for Victor Frankenstein. The kind of ball that changes the course of a match at the highest level. The philosopher climbs and gathers the cross with both hands. In that position, that authority is what makes the difference in the big matches. Søren Kierkegaard boots it into row Z... no wait, it is actually for Jacob Tremblay! Long ball that catches everyone off guard.

Rapid combination: Santa Claus to Frankenstein's monster, the ball barely touches the grass between them. Frankenstein's monster puts Count Dracula into orbit with a laser-guided through ball. The kind of pass that lifts an entire stadium to its feet. Count Dracula unleashes a strike that finishes in the car park. Not on target, not even close.

Gorgeous crossfield ball from Count Dracula to Leo XIV, the kind of pass you see in highlight reels. Take a bow. Enormous leap from the archbishop who wins the header. In that role, a player who wins his aerial duels like that is an insurance policy. Leo XIV throws himself at it and clears the ball just in time, he has saved the furniture with whatever was at hand.

Mary launches the ball into orbit, emergency clearance. No time to think, just get it out. The match has gone stone cold, you could hear a pin drop. The opposition defenders could grab a brew, nothing is happening.

Defensive organization is perfect, the opposition hits a brick wall. Leo XIV puts in an absolutely ridiculous recovery run, covers 50 yards at full pelt to get back. WHAT A SAVE from Søren Kierkegaard! Rushing out at the feet, the ball is gathered. One-on-one WON! The team sits deep and absorbs everything, still holding.

Team goes on the counter but the final pass is too short, all wasted. Zendaya sprays the ball into no-man's land, the pass finds nobody. Wasteful stuff at this level.

Honours even. Victor Frankenstein finds a corner of the dressing room, headphones on, eyes shut. Santa Claus walks past, taps his knee twice — silent support. The gaffer arrives: "We'll talk when everyone's ready. No rush." Well read, gaffer. Roger from St Albans says forty-seven forms and a two-year waiting period for the shed. Planning permission granted for Roger! And for our late-night viewers: 'Location, Location, Location — but it's just Kirstie and Phil arguing in a Greggs about whether you can afford to live anywhere south of Carlisle.'

Matchday 5 — vs Douala Makossa-Corner

1-0 (W)

Count Dracula feeds Julia Roberts in stride, sharp and decisive, the backline is scrambling. Lightning press from Julia Roberts, he pounces on the carrier and wins the ball in a heartbeat. That man's intensity is his secret weapon. The film producer aims with surgical precision on the pass from Jacob Tremblay! In that position, knowing how to place a ball like that, you become a nightmare for keepers. GOAL!

Count Dracula falls to his knees in front of the family section, eyes shut, hands pressed together to the sky. Three seconds of silence in the stadium. Then Zendaya arrives and screams in his ear, and the whole thing explodes. Goosebumps.

Mary clears with his right foot under heavy pressure, the ball flies into touch. No frills, just survival. Horizontal possession, never a ball that breaks the lines. Julia Roberts crosses but it is a poor delivery, it goes three yards wide of Count Dracula.

The seamstress slides in with a perfect tackle and wins the ball. That's exactly the kind of intervention you want from someone in that position. Switch from Mary! The ball arcs over the midfield and Julia Roberts collects it on the other side. Stretching the play.

Mad, mad, mad match, every counter-attack could be the winner. Lovely counter move but the pass is too heavy, runs straight through to the keeper. Frankenstein's monster weights his pass into the space for Victor Frankenstein who collects at full pace without breaking stride. Perfection. Victor Frankenstein overlaps on the wing with frightening ease, the defender is made to look silly.

The philosopher finds Victor Frankenstein with a pinpoint kick. The kind of keeper who starts as many attacks as he stops. Victor Frankenstein to Santa Claus, it is direct, it is crisp, the ball zips along the turf. Santa Claus accelerates and burns past his man on the wing, nobody can keep up! Santa Claus dinks a lobbed cross for Mary, the ball clears everyone and drops perfectly.

The physio announces the GPS stats: "Mary has covered seven kilometres already." Santa Claus shouts: "That is because {he} has been chasing their winger all half!" Mary fires back: "At least I caught him, unlike you last week." Laughter all round. The gaffer taps the board. "Focus, lads. Same energy second half." A train mix-up saw Søren Kierkegaard end up in Scunthorpe instead of Southampton for an away match. The 213-year-old spent three hours in a Wetherspoons before the gaffer sent a minibus. And now, our TV game show Blankety Blank Cheque! To win a chequebook that expired in 2003, text 4234 and answer: 'What does a British person say when they accidentally make eye contact on the Tube?' The second period begins and Frankenstein's monster launches a crossfield ball within ten seconds. Statement of intent right there. The second half will not be like the first.

Relentless pressing, the opposition can barely breathe out there. Decisive interception from the archbishop, he cut out the passing lane as if he knew the opposition game plan. That is exactly what you want from a player in that role. Leo XIV spots Victor Frankenstein in acres of space on the far side and sends a sixty-yard pass. Maximum awareness. Pinpoint delivery from the scientist towards Mary, the ball lands on a sixpence. In that position, crosses are half the job.

Emergency clearance from Santa Claus, he has hit it as hard as humanly possible. It has gone into the crowd, so what? The goal is safe. Dead time on the pitch, both sides happy to keep it ticking over. Zendaya pings a long diagonal to Leo XIV, completely shifts the point of attack. Leo XIV goes up to the heavens and comes back down with the ball. Aerial duel won, total domination, the opposition can pack their bags.

OHHH Jacob Tremblay drags the attacker back by the jersey, blatant foul! Booking for Jacob Tremblay, persistent fouling. The referee drew a line in the sand. Free kick from Jacob Tremblay goes high and handsome, over the bar and out for a goal kick.

Krampus intercepts in the opposition half, he read the play three seconds before anyone else. That is defensive caviar. Quick counter, the striker is in alone but his shot ends up in row Z. Fantastic surging run from Count Dracula, he sets off from his own half and charges towards goal. WIIIIIDE! Count Dracula put plenty on it but the ball slides just past the frame of the goal.

Quick throw from Søren Kierkegaard to Leo XIV out wide, sharp and clever distribution. Off we go. The archbishop shifts the point of attack with an inch-perfect crossfield pass to Frankenstein's monster. Pure quality, as per usual. Frankenstein's monster rolls it to Count Dracula, the ball hugs the turf, not a bobble, not a hesitation.

Full time, full joy! Julia Roberts walks the entire touchline high-fiving every fan who leans over the barrier. Victor Frankenstein carries a little kid onto the pitch for a photo — nobody's sure whose kid it is, but everyone's smiling. Douala Makossa-Corner are yesterday's news. Kenneth from Guildford says you mouth the word sorry seventeen times without making a sound. The expired chequebook is his! Stay with us for: 'Homes Under the Hammer — Martin Roberts discovers a property so haunted even the estate agent won't go inside.' Structural survey pending. Ghost survey: conclusive.

Matchday 6 — vs Lagos No-Carry-Last

1-0 (W)

The monster does not let up and rips the ball from the opposition's feet. In that position, that kind of high defensive work is worth as much as an assist. The monster bamboozles his opponent with a feint. That kind of skill in that position completely changes the face of a match. GOOOAL from the monster! World class placed finish! In that position, knowing how to find the bottom corner like that is what makes the great players.

Rehearsed move all week: Frankenstein's monster and Jacob Tremblay stage a Wild West duel, back to back, ten paces, turn, fire. Søren Kierkegaard plays the corpse in the middle. The stadium wants an encore, they do it twice more before the ref cuts it off.

The bench is screaming, the fans roaring, one last massive push. Julia Roberts reaches the byline and cuts it back for Krampus arriving from the second wave. The player gets his cross wrong, too much juice on it. The intent is there but the execution lets him down tonight. Mary boots it into the stands under pressure from the attacker, it had to go.

Santa Claus turns the game on its head with one razor-sharp pass for Zendaya. The defence did not even have time to blink. Krampus plays a brilliant ball, but Zendaya is a foot offside. All for nothing. Søren Kierkegaard smashes a volley towards Jacob Tremblay, the ball rockets forward and drops perfectly at the feet. What a foot on that keeper. Massive diagonal from Jacob Tremblay! Leo XIV receives it on the opposite side, not a defender within ten yards.

On the corner from Frankenstein's monster, Mary is there for the header but it goes over. So frustrating. Nothing doing in the middle of the park, the ball's just going sideways. Santa Claus lays it off first time to Mary, fluid stuff, the ball is moving nicely.

Krampus reads that pass like an open book, surgical interception. The player lays it off first time to Count Dracula, fluid stuff, exactly what you expect from a player of that calibre. High recovery from Count Dracula who puts hellish pressure on the opposition midfielder. Possession changes in the blink of an eye. Count Dracula picks out Leo XIV with a short pass along the deck, the ball glides across the surface like it is on ice.

The dressing room smells of Deep Heat and good decisions. Frankenstein's monster is sat in the corner, ice on {his} shoulder, replaying {his} tackle on the phone. "Look at that, absolutely textbook," {he} says to Mary. The gaffer nods. "That is the level I want for the whole second half. No let-up." Søren Kierkegaard sparked a full dressing room meltdown by declaring custard creams superior to bourbons. At 213, the 180-tall midfielder stood firm while chaos erupted — the manager had to intervene with a tin of Foxes assortment. And now, our TV game show Gardener's World of Pain! To win a National Trust cream tea for two, text 0800SCONE and answer: 'Does the cream or the jam go on first, and are you prepared to fight about it?' The tunnel spits the players back onto the pitch one by one. Frankenstein's monster comes out with that walk. You know the one. Shoulders back, chest out. Something has clicked.

Oh what a challenge! Mary goes to ground, wins the ball, and is up on his feet in a flash. Top drawer. Mary clears the danger with a massive hack, the ball flies into the distance. No time for pretty football. Tepid stuff, the ball just keeps going back to the keeper.

Short restart from the philosopher to Jacob Tremblay, building out from the back. The modern keeper is basically an eleventh outfield player. Jacob Tremblay is beaten in the air, the opponent rises above him with authority. That is tough to take. Søren Kierkegaard comes off his line and claims the high ball. The fans love it, that is proper authority. Julia Roberts plays the simple ball to Frankenstein's monster, nothing fancy but dead effective. Football does not have to be complicated. Frankenstein's monster slips Zendaya in with a cute little pass through the gap. Clever.

We're in low gear now, the final whistle can't come soon enough. Krampus plays it simple to Santa Claus, neat little ball into feet. Tidy. Santa Claus goes to the byline and fires a low ball back, Victor Frankenstein is unmarked at the far post.

Leo XIV spreads it to Julia Roberts, simple pass, clear intent. Playing it right. Quick one-two between Julia Roberts and Mary, clean as you like, they are moving forward. The seamstress whips in a classic cross for Victor Frankenstein in the box. When you have got that delivery from the flank, you cause havoc. Victor Frankenstein sends a furious header but the ball sails over the bar. So close yet so far. Stodgy, sluggish football, the entertainment has drained out of the game.

Leo XIV drops a lofted ball to Frankenstein's monster, it sails over the entire midfield line. Frankenstein's monster floats a cross in from the wing for Victor Frankenstein, the ball hangs in the box! Aimless cross from Victor Frankenstein, not for Julia Roberts, not for anyone. That is a waste. We're in a proper lull here, the game's gone to sleep.

Job done. Mary and Jacob Tremblay stroll off arm in arm, grinning like Cheshire cats. The lads in the tunnel are already blasting music — sounds like someone's brought a speaker size of a fridge. Lagos No-Carry-Last's lot are filing out quietly. Not their night. Doreen from Devon says cream first and she will take this to her grave. National Trust cream tea for Doreen! Don't go anywhere! Up next: 'Strictly Come Dancing: Roundabout Edition.' Twelve contestants. One roundabout in Milton Keynes. The cha-cha has never looked more dangerous.

Matchday 7 — vs Barranquilla Toque-Toque

1-1 (L)

The film producer lays it off first time to Frankenstein's monster, fluid stuff, exactly what you expect from a player of that calibre. The monster wins the ball back high up after a ferocious press. That is exactly what you want from a player in that position: intensity and sacrifice. OOOH GOAL from Frankenstein's monster! On the assist from Julia Roberts, he curls it along the deck and the ball sneaks into the corner!

Step-overs from Julia Roberts, the defender has lost the ball completely, the fans are loving it. The film producer unleashes a rocket, ON TARGEEEET! But the keeper is there. In that position, having that kind of shooting ability is a proper weapon.

The archbishop finds Zendaya along the ground, clean and tidy. That kind of pass looks easy but it takes a reading of the game that is way above average. Zendaya changes the point of attack with a raking pass to Victor Frankenstein. The defence is caught completely flat-footed. Victor Frankenstein fires a powerful cross into the danger zone, Frankenstein's monster throws himself at it. It is heating up in the box.

They're all over them like a rash, no time on the ball whatsoever. Intense pressing from the monster, he wins the ball in the opposition half. When you have that engine in that role, you suffocate any team. WOOOW Frankenstein's monster launches a missile! On target, the ball is fizzing but the keeper tips it around the post!

Nutmeg from Count Dracula, the ball goes through the defender's legs. Get the camera on that. Count Dracula hits the deck like he's been shot by a sniper. Replay shows absolutely nothing. Yellow card! Count Dracula booked for simulation, the ref saw right through that dive. Free kick from Count Dracula... and it hits the wall. The wall did its job there. Corner from Krampus well taken but the defence does its job, cleared comfortably.

The dressing room is silent apart from the fizz of isotonic drinks being opened and the squeak of boots on tiles. Leo XIV is biting {his} nails in the corner. Mary stares at the ceiling like it holds the answers to everything. The gaffer lets the silence do its work before delivering his half-time talk. Leo XIV is a known charity shop addict who once found a vintage Gazza shirt in an Oxfam for three quid. The 71-year-old wore it under the kit for six straight matches as a lucky charm. And now, our TV game show Pointless But True! To win a parking permit for Slough, text 5566 and answer this question: 'What did the last pigeon to leave Trafalgar Square write in its resignation letter?' Out of the tunnel and onto the pitch. Victor Frankenstein high-fives every teammate on the way to {his} position. Unity. That is what you need for the next forty-five.

Crucial intervention from the archbishop, wins the tackle cleanly and recycles possession. In that role, timing is everything, and his was spot on. The archbishop cuts open the lines with an inch-perfect pass for Mary. When you have got that kind of vision, you change a game in a heartbeat. Mary lets rip and it SHAAAVES the woodwork! Inches from a goal, so unlucky. The game's petered out completely, we're just waiting for someone to spark it.

What a disaster! Barranquilla Toque-Toque score and you could hear a pin drop in our end.

Julia Roberts hits turbo and flies down the wing, the defender is left in the dust. Completely wasted cross from Julia Roberts, the keeper just plucks it out of the air in his six-yard box. Søren Kierkegaard throws it out quickly to Julia Roberts, rapid distribution, catching the opposition before they can reset. Julia Roberts sends the game to the other side with a long pass to Zendaya. Simple in concept, masterful in execution.

The game is crying out for a moment of magic, nothing's happening. The ball pings around but the defenders are barely breaking sweat. Mary puts Zendaya in on a plate with a clean pass into space. Not a defender within five yards.

Great vision from Victor Frankenstein who switches to Frankenstein's monster. The defence pivots, but they are too late. Devastating burst of pace from Frankenstein's monster, he eats the full-back alive on the right flank. The monster gets dispossessed mid-dribble. That is the risk when you try it in that position, sometimes it does not come off. Lightning recovery and attack, they're running riot on the break.

The philosopher goes long for Victor Frankenstein, fifty yards of precision. In that position, the feet have become mandatory. Victor Frankenstein puts in a crunching challenge, all ball, no foul. The attacker's left with absolutely nothing. The scientist plays it simple to Mary, neat little ball into feet. Tidy. The seamstress lets fly and it's wide. Flirted with the frame though. In that position, with a tiny bit more precision that's going in.

Level at the final whistle. Søren Kierkegaard and Leo XIV walk side by side toward the tunnel without a word. The rain is drizzling gently. A point isn't great, isn't disaster — just exactly what today was worth. The dressing room will be quiet. And here's the answer to Pointless But True! Reginald Flump, from Slough, correctly answered the question, which was 'What did the last pigeon to leave Trafalgar Square write in its resignation letter?'. The answer was of course 'I can no longer work in these conditions, the tourists are unbearable and Nelson never says thank you'. Reginald wins this magnificent parking permit for Slough! And now: 'MasterChef, but every dish must be made in a university halls kitchen with only a kettle and a George Foreman grill.' Bon appetit. Sort of.

Matchday 8 — vs Montevideo Garra-Charrúa

1-3 (L)

GOAL! Montevideo Garra-Charrúa are celebrating! Their attacker made it look far too easy.

Perfect back flip from Søren Kierkegaard right in front of the home end, five-star landing. Count Dracula tries the same behind him, lands flat on his arse, the whole squad doubled over laughing. Even Søren Kierkegaard has made it up, hands on knees, breathless. Proper scenes.

Huge tackle from Krampus! Went through the back door and nicked the ball before the striker could get his shot away. Krampus takes the ball at his feet and drives fifty yards on his own. It is one man against the world. GOOOAL from Krampus! The keeper rushes out, Krampus sends a lob with the OUTSIDE of his boot and the ball settles delicately into the empty net. VELVET, that is BEAUTIFUL!

The scientist overlaps on the wing and leaves the full-back for dead. In that position, pace is the ultimate weapon. PENALTY for the scientist! The defender fouled him in the box. In that position, this is the kind of CRUCIAL moment that can tip an entire match on its head. Victor Frankenstein's penalty flies over the bar! He's completely missed the target, it's a tragedy.

The movie actor/actress plays it simple to Victor Frankenstein, neat little ball into feet. Tidy. The scientist bends the ball into the box for Krampus. The kind of delivery that makes the difference in the big games. Oh no Krampus fluffs his header! The cross from Julia Roberts was inch-perfect but it goes over. Søren Kierkegaard hoofs it forward towards Zendaya, clearance mode, no time to mess about. Diagonal from Zendaya to Frankenstein's monster, surgical stuff, the ball cuts out six opponents in one go.

GOAL! Montevideo Garra-Charrúa have netted! Their forward pounced on the loose ball. Clinical.

Søren Kierkegaard dives into the home end and disappears into a cloud of arms, shirts and smoke. Re-emerges five seconds later wearing a scarf and a bucket hat someone shoved on his head. The stadium chants his name three times.

The gaffer flips the tactics board clean off the wall. Magnets scatter across the floor like shrapnel. "Can somebody, ANYBODY, explain to me what I have just watched for forty-five minutes?!" Nobody answers. Mary pulls {his} shirt over {his} face. The hairdryer treatment has well and truly arrived. A lovely aside — Zendaya spent a rainy bank holiday assembling flat-pack furniture and documented the entire thing on Instagram Stories. It took nine hours, two breakdowns, and a trip to B&Q. At 178, he couldn't even fit the Allen key in his hand properly. And now, our TV game show Pointless But True! To win a slightly dented tin of beans, text 3030 and answer this question: 'How many calories are in a strongly worded letter?' Kick-off! Mary wins the first challenge of the second half and the crowd roars its approval. That is the intensity we need.

Well-taken corner from the film producer but the header is wasted. In that position, delivering crosses of that quality is all you can ask, the rest is down to others. Driven kick from Søren Kierkegaard to Jacob Tremblay, long pass that bypasses the entire midfield. The actor plays it simple to Zendaya, neat little ball into feet. Tidy. Zendaya triggers a change of flanks for Frankenstein's monster, the ball rockets across the pitch above the heads.

Søren Kierkegaard plays out from the back with Frankenstein's monster, short pass, controlled. The gaffer approves. Frankenstein's monster tries to get up for the duel but the attacker beats him to the header. The timing was off. Søren Kierkegaard dives to his left, soars like a bird and pushes the shot away! HUGE diving save! The monster puts in a pinpoint corner but nobody hits the target. In that position, it is maddening to see your deliveries go to waste like that.

Dangerous challenge from the film producer, studs up into the attacker. That's not what you want from a player in that role. Julia Roberts has cracked and kneed the opponent right in the thigh. Dismissed immediately. The film producer puts a pinpoint free kick into the box. In that position, that precision from set pieces is what makes the difference in the big games. Jacob Tremblay rises above his marker and wins the header! He got up higher than everyone.

What a waste, the counter was a thing of beauty right up to the end. Killer ball from Mary through the gap! Julia Roberts bursts in, the centre-backs are split wide open. This is top-drawer stuff. Offside trap catches Julia Roberts out. Victor Frankenstein played it quickly but not quickly enough. Søren Kierkegaard catapults the ball towards Santa Claus from the six-yard box, thirty yards in the air. What a boot. The distribution manager lays it off first time to Krampus, fluid stuff, exactly what you expect from a player of that calibre.

Cross from Count Dracula deflected behind for a corner, the defender read the play perfectly. Shocking corner from Santa Claus, doesn't even make the box.

GOAAAL for Montevideo Garra-Charrúa! What a howler at the back, that's been gifted to them.

'I told you so' mode. Søren Kierkegaard eyeballs the Montevideo Garra-Charrúa bench with a cold smile, finger to his lips. Their gaffer loses it, the ref intervenes. Count Dracula pulls Søren Kierkegaard away by the shirt. The tension ratchets up, the home end adores it.

Massive clearance from Krampus in the scramble, he has whacked it out of the box. Survival mission accomplished. Jacob Tremblay looks up and launches a long pass towards Krampus. The ball traces a perfect arc across the sky. Burst of speed from Krampus, he devours the left flank in a matter of seconds. Impressive. The cross from Krampus is overhit, the keeper collects comfortably in his area. Short distribution from Søren Kierkegaard to Santa Claus, circulating at the back, the press is beaten.

Painful afternoon. Søren Kierkegaard and Leo XIV walk side by side toward the tunnel, neither saying a word. Their studs echo on the concrete. Somewhere behind them, Montevideo Garra-Charrúa's lot are singing. It carries down the corridor. Sounds get louder when you've lost. And here's the answer to Pointless But True! Doreen from Doncaster, from Barnsley, correctly answered the question, which was 'How many calories are in a strongly worded letter?'. The answer was of course 2,400 if written in capitals, or 1,200 if you use passive aggression. Doreen wins this magnificent slightly dented tin of beans! Tonight's unmissable viewing: 'Dragons' Den, but the entrepreneurs only pitch things that already exist.' This week: a man from Bolton invents the umbrella. Again.

Matchday 9 — vs Buenos Aires Pecho Frío

1-2 (L)

Stunning tackle by Krampus in a dangerous area! Keeps his composure and wins the ball cleanly. No arguments from anyone. Counter-attack fires off the blocks, blistering pace from the front three. LOB from Zendaya! GOAL! The keeper was three yards off his line, Zendaya spotted it and sent a CHIPPED ball that sails over him and drops into the net. GENIUS awareness!

Knee slide for twenty yards, Krampus arms outstretched like a crucifix, face buried in the wet turf. Santa Claus slides in alongside, they both crash into the hoardings. Wonderwall starts up from the stands, fifty thousand voices, goosebumps territory.

Søren Kierkegaard rolls it short to Zendaya into feet, no panic, keep the ball and play. Dominant header from Zendaya on the corner, he outmuscles his marker and wins the aerial duel. The ground shakes. Zendaya boots the ball into touch with a panicked clearance. The manager winces but the result is there. The scientist dominates his marker in the air with insulting ease. That kind of aerial mastery in that position makes a team unbeatable from set pieces. Victor Frankenstein lumps it out of his box. Elegance can wait, this was all-out war.

Oh that's terrible! Buenos Aires Pecho Frío score on the counter-attack. We were wide open.

Solidarity move: Søren Kierkegaard grabs Jacob Tremblay who made the assist, drags him by the neck to the main stand. 'HIM! IT'S HIM!' The stadium gives Jacob Tremblay a standing ovation right through to the restart.

A real dead period, the ball's being passed around with no intent at all. The scientist finds Zendaya along the ground, clean and tidy. That kind of pass looks easy but it takes a reading of the game that is way above average. Perfect cut-back from Zendaya, Mary receives it on the deck in acres of space. Dream scenario.

Jacob Tremblay takes the channel at full speed, the defender is eaten alive in the foot race. Looping cross from Jacob Tremblay, it sails over the centre-halves and drops towards Zendaya. Danger. The cross from the movie actor/actress is blocked by a defender. That is the risk when you deliver from that area, the defence is watching. Leo XIV scrapes it clear with his studs under pressure, the ball goes out for a corner. It is not pretty but that is football, sometimes you just have to survive.

"It is a disgrace. An absolute disgrace." The gaffer repeats it twice because once was not enough. Jacob Tremblay grips the bench so hard {his} knuckles go white. Julia Roberts is chewing the inside of {his} cheek raw. The scoreboard tells one story. The dressing room tells another, and it is even uglier. Inside info here — Søren Kierkegaard insists on sitting in the same seat on the team bus, second row, window side. If anyone takes it, he stands in the aisle and stares at them until they move. At 213, he's earned that level of passive aggression. And now, our TV game show Ready Steady Can't Cook! To win an M&S dine-in-for-two deal, text 0800DINE and answer: 'How many times can you reheat a shepherd's pie before it becomes a health hazard?' The ball rolls and we are back in action. Søren Kierkegaard picks it up in midfield and plays it forward with purpose. The tempo has shifted. You can feel it.

Jacob Tremblay opens up to Frankenstein's monster on the opposite wing, the ball floats over the midfield. Magnificent. The monster finds Julia Roberts along the ground, clean and tidy. That kind of pass looks easy but it takes a reading of the game that is way above average. Julia Roberts keeps it short to Frankenstein's monster, no frills, just good football intelligence. Rapid combination Frankenstein's monster-Zendaya, the one-two rips through the midfield. That is snooker.

Santa Claus thumps his header on the corner from Julia Roberts but it flies two yards over. Terrible waste. Søren Kierkegaard distributes by hand to Victor Frankenstein on the flank, instant counter-attack launched. The scientist reads the play and puts in a textbook challenge. That's the sort of awareness you need in that position, and he's delivered it perfectly. Ball moves quickly, players run, but the finish is heartbreaking.

Sideways ball from Krampus to Frankenstein's monster, switching the point of attack, stretching the block. 80% of the ball and still 0-0, says it all really. The film producer winds up and fires, wide but close. In that position, keep pulling the trigger, the goal is coming.

Oh it's gone in! Buenos Aires Pecho Frío find the gap in our defence. Absolute shambles.

Raw emotion: Søren Kierkegaard cracks, falls to his knees sobbing on the turf, Leo XIV crouches beside him and speaks softly. Søren Kierkegaard jogs over, scoops them both into a hug. The cameras zoom on the trio. Full-on humanity on display.

Frankenstein's monster puts it right into the feet of Mary, one touch and away. Silky stuff. Good delivery from Mary off the left flank, Jacob Tremblay positions himself between the two centre-halves. Jacob Tremblay wins his duel in the air and heads it down for Leo XIV. Aerial dominance in the service of the team. The actor lays it off first time to Zendaya, fluid stuff, exactly what you expect from a player of that calibre.

Free kick from Count Dracula, lovely delivery and Mary rises above the defence. Mary wins the aerial battle against the attacker, he jumped earlier, higher, and stronger. Total domination. Oh no Mary! Header in the six-yard box but it goes over! The cross from Zendaya deserved better. Zendaya boots it into touch with a last-ditch sliding clearance, the effort is desperate but it does the business. The film producer switches the play to Leo XIV, fifty-yard crossfield ball. That is his bread and butter.

One laser pass from Count Dracula and the entire defence is eliminated, Frankenstein's monster is through on goal. The space is enormous. Oh my word Frankenstein's monster fires and it goes JUST wide! The post must have felt the breeze. The match is limping along, neither keeper has touched the ball in ages. Frankenstein's monster sends an aerial beauty to Jacob Tremblay, the ball cuts across the pitch like a guided missile.

It's done. Buenos Aires Pecho Frío win, we lose, the table doesn't lie. Leo XIV and Victor Frankenstein walk out together, bags over shoulders, eyes on the floor. The security guard holds the door and says nothing. Outside, it's started raining. Of course it has. Pamela from Solihull says twice is the legal limit and after that you're playing Russian roulette with leftovers. M&S dine-in deal for Pamela! We leave you with tonight's feature presentation: 'Who Wants To Be A Millionaire, but all the questions are about council tax bands.' Phone a friend? He doesn't know either.

Matchday 10 — vs Rio Malandro FC

1-0 (W)

Good ball from the monster to Mary, playing it quick between the lines. That is what he does. The seamstress spots the run and threads a beauty in behind the defence for Leo XIV. That is exactly why he is out there. BOOOOOM! Leo XIV sends a BOMB from 25 yards, the keeper just watched the ball fly past!

Krampus gives it to Santa Claus into feet, it is bread and butter but done with surgical precision. Completely sterile passage of play, neither side wants to take the initiative. They're turning the screw here, wave after wave of attack. High recovery from the movie actor/actress who hounds the carrier until he coughs it up. In that role, pressing is not a bonus, it is part of the job description.

Bit of a snoozer this, not much happening at either end. Good ball from the archbishop to Mary, playing it quick between the lines. That is what he does. Mary plays it back across the floor in the box, Leo XIV receives centrally. This is the textbook cut-back. WHAT A SAVE from the philosopher! That kind of keeper wins you matches all on his own.

The block resists valiantly, not a single chance conceded. Leo XIV steals the ball in the passing lanes, that is pure reading of the game, intelligent football at its finest. Turnover and they're off to the races, a proper counter-punch.

Brilliant switch of play from Victor Frankenstein! The ball covers the entire width of the pitch to land in front of Mary. Mary beats the attacker with a commanding header, he went up like a lift and came back down with the ball. The boss. Quick transition, three touches and they're through on goal, but the finish lets them down. Effort from Victor Frankenstein, it's GOIIIIING and it's on target! The keeper gets down well and holds it. No goal.

The boss writes three words on the board: KEEP. IT. GOING. Then turns to face the group. "I do not need to say much. You know what you are doing out there. Krampus, you have been outstanding. Santa Claus, keep that right side locked down. The rest of you, same again. Let us finish this properly." Roommates on away trips confirm Mary sleepwalks to the hotel minibar and eats all the Pringles unconsciously. At 2008, the lad has no memory of it and denies the crumb evidence every single time. And now, our TV game show Pointless But True! To win a parking permit for Slough, text 1234 and answer this question: 'How many pints fit inside a standard British apology?' They are back. Count Dracula salutes the travelling fans with a raised fist before taking {his} spot. The faithful respond in kind. Second half. Bring it on.

Groans from the stands, this possession is going nowhere. The cross from Julia Roberts clears the box entirely and goes straight out. Frustrating. Dull as ditchwater, the lads look like they're on a Sunday stroll. The movie actor/actress plays it simple to Santa Claus, neat little ball into feet. Tidy. Santa Claus finds Zendaya between the lines, short pass, right foot, perfect first touch.

Naughty from Leo XIV! Pulls the attacker's shirt right in front of the linesman! Yellow card. Leo XIV committed the professional foul without a moment's hesitation. Dangerous delivery from the archbishop on the free kick! In that position, knowing where to put the ball in the box is an asset that is worth its weight in gold. Header from the player, it flies wide! In that role, aerial ability matters and he was so close to scoring there. The philosopher throws it out to Frankenstein's monster, quick and clever. When your last line of defence plays this well with his feet, it changes everything.

Count Dracula embarks on a breathtaking run, stringing together dribbles and bursts of pace. Count Dracula finds Mary in the dead zone between the full-back and the centre-half, pass into space, collected on the run. Pure class. Offside against the seamstress, who mistimed his run on Victor Frankenstein's pass.

The opposition has eleven behind the ball and a smile on their face. The match has gone to sleep, somebody needs to wake it up. Superb diagonal from the necromancer to Zendaya, the ball sails across the entire pitch. When you have got that wand of a foot, you use it.

The player produces the tackle of the match, impeccable timing and technique. That ability to read the game defensively from that position is absolutely priceless. Krampus rotates the play with an inch-perfect crossfield ball to Julia Roberts. The far side is completely deserted. They have the pitch to themselves but the cross is completely overhit.

Victory! Santa Claus and Count Dracula lead the squad in a huddle, bouncing and chanting something the microphones can't quite pick up. Probably for the best. Rio Malandro FC have left the pitch but we're not done yet. The stadium DJ puts on a banger and nobody wants to go home. And here's the answer to Pointless But True! Keith Drizzleton, from Slough, correctly answered the question, which was 'How many pints fit inside a standard British apology?'. The answer was of course three and a half, or four if you really mean it. Keith wins this magnificent parking permit for Slough! And now: 'MasterChef, but every dish must be made in a university halls kitchen with only a kettle and a George Foreman grill.' Bon appetit. Sort of.

Matchday 11 — vs Istanbul Cehennem FK

1-3 (L)

GOAAAL! Istanbul Cehennem FK score! That's a hammer blow, the fans are stunned into silence.

Søren Kierkegaard weaves through Istanbul Cehennem FK's defenders to reach his own fans, waving his arms to whip up the stand. Every step is chanted. Julia Roberts screams 'COME OOOON!' next to him. World Cup final vibes in a league match.

Leo XIV senses the pass coming and cuts the trajectory. The opponent is dispossessed without even being touched. That is football at its beautiful best. Ball recovered and they've gone from end to end in the blink of an eye. GOOOOOAL signed by the monster! Placed shot, ball in the bottom corner. In that position, that kind of finish is what justifies the wages.

Leo XIV sprints to the corner flag and poses alongside it, arm around it like an old mate. Victor Frankenstein snaps the moment with an imaginary camera. Søren Kierkegaard waits at the centre circle tapping his foot: 'ARE YOU LOT COMING OR WHAT?!' The chant kicks off.

Quiet as a library out there, no tempo, no edge, no quality. The opponent is bundled over by Frankenstein's monster. Not much in it, but the whistle goes. Frankenstein's monster is finally booked. The constant fouling was becoming a joke out there. Frankenstein's monster tries to go over the wall with the free kick but it hits it. Poorly calibrated.

Lightning counter but the final pass is dreadful, completely wasted. Victor Frankenstein sees what nobody else sees and puts Jacob Tremblay through on goal with a genius through ball.

Mary flies back like a rocket and cuts out the passing lane. Attack over, danger dealt with. Crunching tackle from Mary on the attacker, he's gone right through him there. Straight red for the seamstress after violent conduct. In that position, you simply cannot afford to lose your head like that. Mary strikes the free kick and the wall rises in front of it. No way through.

The boss slams the door shut and leans against it. Nobody leaves until he says so. "Look at your faces. You are beaten already and there are still forty-five minutes on the clock. Mary, lift your head up. Leo XIV, stop sulking. We are footballers, not victims. Now act like it." We can confirm that Frankenstein's monster owns a caravan called 'The Palace' which is parked permanently in a field near Whitby. It has no running water, a portable telly, and a signed photo of Peter Crouch. At 180, he can barely stand up inside it. And now, our TV game show The Weakest Biscuit! To win a Wetherspoons voucher for 47p, text 4040 and answer this question: 'What is the national dish of a car park?' The referee blows the whistle and the second half kicks off. Søren Kierkegaard takes the ball immediately and drives forward. No messing about.

Monumental ball from Krampus to Mary, the kind of pass that gets the crowd on its feet. Dreadful pass from Mary, lands three yards away from the target. Frankenstein's monster can do nothing with that. Tremendous work from Santa Claus who goes and wins the ball in the opposition half. The press is rewarded, recovery thirty yards from goal. Santa Claus shifts it to Julia Roberts with a short pass, threading it between two defenders. Sharp turn from Julia Roberts, the defender is sat down. Someone call an ambulance.

Zendaya pings a ridiculous diagonal to Jacob Tremblay. The ball crosses the pitch in three seconds flat. Jacob Tremblay lofts a cross into the box, Julia Roberts is there, sandwiched between two defenders, ready to pounce. Julia Roberts sends a cross that finds nobody, the ball flies past the far post with no takers. Flat atmosphere, flat game, everyone looks half asleep.

With one swing of the boot, Jacob Tremblay finds Julia Roberts on the opposite flank. The kind of pass that cracks a game open. Superb pass from Julia Roberts into the gap for Jacob Tremblay, the defender is rooted to the spot. Zendaya threads it through to Jacob Tremblay, but the assistant referee has his flag raised. Offside. Søren Kierkegaard sparks the transition with a quick throw to Krampus, the break is lightning fast. Krampus charges past his man, the defence is stretched on the flank. Dangerous.

Disaster! Istanbul Cehennem FK score! We've just handed them that on a silver platter.

Count Dracula puts his corner into the box but the defence is solid, cleared away. Monster clearance from Jacob Tremblay! He has hit it like he wanted to send the ball to the moon. The danger is gone. The tempo has dropped off a cliff, this is hard going to watch. The monster lays it off first time to Count Dracula, fluid stuff, exactly what you expect from a player of that calibre. Body feint from the necromancer, the defender is eliminated. When you have got that technique in that role, you cause carnage.

Krampus clears in desperation and the ball ends up in the advertising hoardings. It is ugly, it is brutal, but the net stays untouched. The movie actor/actress intercepts the pass with textbook reading of the game. In that position, it is that intelligence that separates a good player from a great one. Massive clearance from the movie actor/actress under pressure. It is the basics of the role: when it gets hot, you send the ball as far away as possible. Possession for possession's sake, not a single cross or shot.

Oh no, it's in! Istanbul Cehennem FK punish a terrible defensive error. Heads in hands.

Solidarity move: Søren Kierkegaard grabs Santa Claus who made the assist, drags him by the neck to the main stand. 'HIM! IT'S HIM!' The stadium gives Santa Claus a standing ovation right through to the restart.

Mary swivels and releases a crossfield pass to Count Dracula, the ball cuts through the sky and drops on a sixpence. Vision. Good ball from Count Dracula to Krampus, playing it quick between the lines. Free kick to the opponents. Krampus caught his man with a stray leg. The player plays the free kick short instead of shooting. In that position, that kind of reading of the game at set pieces is pure football IQ.

Loss against Istanbul Cehennem FK and it stings. Søren Kierkegaard still goes over to the travelling fans, hand on heart, mouthing "sorry" through the drizzle. Mary follows. The away end responds with a round of applause that almost makes it worse. These fans deserve better. And here's the answer to The Weakest Biscuit! Reginald Flump, from Slough, correctly answered the question, which was 'What is the national dish of a car park?'. The answer was of course a ticket with a side of despair and a drizzle of concrete dust. Reginald wins this magnificent Wetherspoons voucher for 47p! That's your lot! Stay tuned for tonight's late-night special: 'Come Dine With Me, but everyone's passive-aggressive and the dessert is from Iceland.' So just regular Come Dine With Me, really.

Matchday 12 — vs Milano Piano-Piano

1-3 (L)

The film producer presses high and forces the defender into an error. In that position, the ability to recover the ball that high up changes the entire complexion of a match. Julia Roberts has the gift of the great strikers: being where it matters. On the loose ball, he prods it in, GOAL!

Knee slide for twenty yards, Julia Roberts arms outstretched like a crucifix, face buried in the wet turf. Søren Kierkegaard slides in alongside, they both crash into the hoardings. Wonderwall starts up from the stands, fifty thousand voices, goosebumps territory.

The corner from the monster is cleared at the near post. In that position, when your corners keep getting headed away, you need to mix up the delivery. Lovely anticipation from the player who cuts out the opposition pass. In his position, that kind of interception is worth as much as a goal. The player lays it off first time to Zendaya, fluid stuff, exactly what you expect from a player of that calibre.

Oh dear, Milano Piano-Piano have gone and scored. The defence was all over the place.

A proper quiet spell, the crowd has gone eerily silent. The lads are taking the game to them, proper front-foot football. Floated cross from Count Dracula off the right, Jacob Tremblay has stationed himself on the penalty spot. Anything is possible.

Leo XIV chases and chases and finally catches the winger who had a head start. What an athlete. Terrible tackle from the archbishop on the attacker. At that level and in that position, there's no excuse for going in like that. Leo XIV has planted his studs into the opponent's calf deliberately. Red card, no arguments. Free kick into the wall for the archbishop! In that position, when the wall blocks your free kick, you can't drop your head, it's part of the game.

The gaffer pulls up the replay on his tablet and shoves it in Krampus's face: "Look at that. A gap size of the Grand Canyon in our backline and you are ball-watching. BALL. WATCHING. What are you, a spectator?!" Krampus takes it on the chin. There is nothing to say. The evidence is damning. Søren Kierkegaard once tweeted 'rate my Sunday roast' and the entire internet destroyed the 213-year-old for putting the Yorkshire puddings on a separate plate. The tweet was deleted within eleven minutes. And now, our TV game show Pointless But True! To win a slightly dented tin of beans, text 3030 and answer this question: 'How many calories are in a strongly worded letter?' The tunnel spits the players back onto the pitch one by one. Victor Frankenstein comes out with that walk. You know the one. Shoulders back, chest out. Something has clicked.

They've scored! Milano Piano-Piano find the back of the net. Absolute disaster at the back.

Full moonwalk from Søren Kierkegaard, penalty spot to halfway line, timing immaculate. Julia Roberts does the bassline, hand-on-mouth move, in sync. Søren Kierkegaard applauds slowly, cringing grin on his face. Every phone in the stadium is lit up.

The wall from Frankenstein's monster is perfect for Santa Claus who collects at full speed. Two passes, one defender eliminated. That is football. Santa Claus hits the afterburners and flies past his defender, that is blistering pace. Ball loss from the distribution manager on a dribble. In that role, taking risks is fine, but the timing has to be spot on. Santa Claus anticipates the lofted pass and intercepts with his chest. Total control, maximum game intelligence.

They break three on two and waste it all with the final pass. Telepathic pass from Santa Claus to Krampus, like they rehearsed it at breakfast. The ball fizzes in behind the defence. The player jumps the gun on Victor Frankenstein's pass. Offside, free kick to the defence. Short restart from Søren Kierkegaard to Mary, building from the back nice and tidy. Little shift from Mary to Julia Roberts, the timing is spot on, the gap opens up.

GOAL for Milano Piano-Piano! A sucker punch on the counter. We committed too many forward.

Søren Kierkegaard places the ball on the centre spot, stands on top of it, arms in a V like a pharaoh on his throne. Frankenstein's monster falls to his knees bowing. Søren Kierkegaard does a slow sarcastic clap. The home end loves this magnificent arrogance.

The timing is everything: Victor Frankenstein releases the ball at the perfect moment and Jacob Tremblay explodes into the space behind. The defence is cooked. The actor was beyond the last man when Leo XIV played it. Clear offside. Nothing to get the blood pumping, this has turned into a possession drill. Crossfield pass from Count Dracula to Krampus, fifty yards of pure precision, drops right into the feet.

Søren Kierkegaard distributes short to Mary, no risk, no frills. The ball moves, the team breathes. Mary sets it for Jacob Tremblay, good reading of the game, the ball is circulating. WHAT A SHAME for Jacob Tremblay! Thunderous strike that flashes just past the upright. Tidy restart from Søren Kierkegaard along the deck to Santa Claus, the press is avoided, the trap is sprung.

The monster switches the play to Santa Claus, fifty-yard crossfield ball. That is his bread and butter. Lazy pass from Santa Claus, the ball drags along the ground and an opponent strolls over to collect. Victor Frankenstein thumps the danger clear with a powerful boot, the ball sails the length of the pitch. The crowd roars, that is a soldier's work. Wing switch from Victor Frankenstein, the ball covers forty-five yards in the air and Mary brings it down with a velvet touch. Class.

Santa Claus hacks it clear in a panic, it is not pretty but it does the job! Long kick from Søren Kierkegaard, Zendaya positions himself and collects in the opposition half. Game on. The movie actor/actress rises above everyone and wins the header. In that position, aerial dominance is what separates the good from the great. The movie actor/actress hacks it clear in a panic, the ball goes into touch. In that position, sometimes you do not look for the pass, you just clear it, and that is exactly what he did.

It's over and Milano Piano-Piano take the points. Krampus shakes hands down the line on autopilot — grip, nod, move on, grip, nod, move on. Mary walks straight past the mixed zone without looking sideways. The dressing room door closes with a thud that says everything. And here's the answer to Pointless But True! Doreen from Doncaster, from Barnsley, correctly answered the question, which was 'How many calories are in a strongly worded letter?'. The answer was of course 2,400 if written in capitals, or 1,200 if you use passive aggression. Doreen wins this magnificent slightly dented tin of beans! Buckle up for: 'The Apprentice, but Lord Sugar sends them all to run a village fete in Dorset.' One team runs out of tombola tickets. The other buys 400 scones. You're fired. All of you.

Matchday 13 — vs Sevilla Olé-Olé

1-2 (L)

Julia Roberts picks it up in his own half and charges forward on his own, he beats two on the way! Julia Roberts does a Maradona in the opposition box! He dribbles, he accelerates, he scores. GOAL OF EXCEPTION!

Julia Roberts sprints to the dugout, hugs the physio, then the doc, then finally the gaffer who pretends to push him off but squeezes him anyway. Søren Kierkegaard photobombs behind with a perfect grimace. Picture of the season, right there.

They've scored! Sevilla Olé-Olé break the deadlock and the momentum has completely shifted.

Søren Kierkegaard mimes a boxer knocking out his opponent, throws two imaginary uppercuts, fells an invisible foe. Krampus raises Søren Kierkegaard's arm like a referee declaring the winner. Søren Kierkegaard plays the man on the canvas. Full show.

Superb tackle from the distribution manager, cleans up the danger without breaking a sweat. When you've got a player like that in the role, you sleep easy at night. Absolute peach from Santa Claus, threading it through for Zendaya, the centre-halves are done for! The assistant flags Zendaya offside, it's a matter of inches! Victor Frankenstein kicks the turf in frustration.

Krampus with the last-ditch tackle, gets every bit of the ball and none of the man. The ref's happy, we're happy. Through ball from the player for Count Dracula, the centre-halves are sliced apart like salami. In that position, that is the difference between good and elite. Søren Kierkegaard blocks with his entire body! The attacker is smothered, the ball is dead, what a save! Søren Kierkegaard lumps it long towards Leo XIV, it is not pretty but it is effective. The ball is forward, job done. Raking ball from the archbishop to Julia Roberts, surgical precision. In that position, vision is half the job.

Emergency clearance from the player, the ball travels fifty yards. In that role, knowing when to clear is just as important as knowing when to play. The opponent beats Count Dracula to the near post and wins the header. Count Dracula was caught on his heels. WHAT A HEADER from Mary! It fliiiiies... but it goes wide. The post was shaking. The necromancer boots it into the stands to clear the danger. In his position, that kind of clearance is not wasteful, it is survival intelligence.

The gaffer changes everything. Formation, personnel, instructions. Frankenstein's monster gets shifted. Santa Claus drops deeper. "What we did in the first half never happened, right? We delete it, we burn it, we start fresh." The players listen in grim silence. The second half is a rescue mission now and everyone knows it. You won't believe this, but Krampus has been collecting Tesco Clubcard points since he was fourteen years old. Word in the dressing room is he's sitting on over two million points and still won't spend them. Saving up for a caravan in Skegness, apparently. And now, our TV game show Pointless But True! To win a parking permit for Slough, text 6060 and answer this question: 'In which county is it illegal to whistle at cheese?' Back on the pitch and Søren Kierkegaard is already barking orders at {his} teammates before the ball even rolls. The tone is set. This half means business.

Superb tackle from the seamstress, cleans up the danger without breaking a sweat. When you've got a player like that in the role, you sleep easy at night. Firm pass from Mary into Jacob Tremblay, right into the boots. No waste. Jacob Tremblay beats his man with a sharp dribble, instant change of direction. Free kick conceded by the actor, clips the opponent from behind. Part of the defensive duties, you have to stop the runner. The actor finally sees yellow after foul upon foul. Should know better at that position.

Søren Kierkegaard plays it along the ground to Victor Frankenstein, composed, controlled. The modern keeper plays football too. Superb diagonal from the scientist to Krampus, the ball sails across the entire pitch. When you have got that wand of a foot, you use it. Krampus plays it simple to Zendaya, neat little ball into feet. Tidy.

Frankenstein's monster slips Krampus in with a cute little pass through the gap. Clever. Krampus spots Frankenstein's monster peeling off and sends a ball in behind the full-back. The space is massive. The flag denies Frankenstein's monster, offside by a toe on Zendaya's pass. Absolutely devastating! Play has stopped, the referee is heading to the pitchside screen. This could change everything. VAR rules it out! Mary's goal is chalked off! Absolute heartbreak!

They suffocate the first pass, the opposition goes long and loses it. Frankenstein's monster chops the opponent down at the halfway line. Stops the counter. Free kick from Frankenstein's monster, he tries to catch the keeper off guard but it is wide. Nice idea, poor execution.

Mary clears in a panic off his weaker foot, it is not clean but it is out. The important thing is the ball is miles away. Header lost by Count Dracula, the opponent took the elevator while Count Dracula stayed on the ground floor. OHHH the take from Søren Kierkegaard! He climbs above the melee and gathers the ball. Boss stuff. Monster clearance from Søren Kierkegaard, the ball reaches the stratosphere before coming back down to Count Dracula. The necromancer wins the aerial duel with authority. In that position, heading is the foundation, and he has just reminded everyone why he starts.

They've done it! Sevilla Olé-Olé find the net and our lot look absolutely devastated.

Surging run from Victor Frankenstein from the centre circle, he destroys everything in his path. What a spectacle. Crafty ball from Victor Frankenstein into the gap, Leo XIV arrives into the space and collects on the move. Tight offside against the archbishop, Mary's through ball deserved better than that. Clearance from the philosopher towards Jacob Tremblay, the ball covers the entire pitch. In his position, it is not just about the saves, the distribution matters too.

Defeat and the dressing room feels like a dentist's waiting room. Mary stares at his boots like they've personally betrayed him. Leo XIV peels off his tape slowly, methodically. The gaffer says five words: "We'll fix it in training." Everyone believes him. Sort of. And here's the answer to Pointless But True! Geraldine Puddleworth, from Milton Keynes, correctly answered the question, which was 'In which county is it illegal to whistle at cheese?'. The answer was of course Shropshire, where the Cheddar Protection Act of 1903 remains in force. Geraldine wins this magnificent parking permit for Slough! And now: 'MasterChef, but every dish must be made in a university halls kitchen with only a kettle and a George Foreman grill.' Bon appetit. Sort of.

Matchday 14 — vs München Ordnung-Muss-Sein

1-2 (L)

Possession flipped in a heartbeat, textbook transition football. OHHH the GOAL from Jacob Tremblay! On the gift from Count Dracula, he opens up his foot and sends the ball to the far post. SUMPTUOUS!

Jacob Tremblay legs it straight to the away end, vaults the advertising hoardings and plants himself face-to-face with their supporters. Frankenstein's monster tries to follow, gets nabbed by stewards. The home end loses it completely. Absolute bedlam.

The corner from Julia Roberts finds Victor Frankenstein who heads it, goes over the bar. Missed chance. Søren Kierkegaard finds Zendaya with a long kick, the ball sails over the midfield and lands right on the money. Enormous leap from the movie actor/actress who wins the header. In that role, a player who wins his aerial duels like that is an insurance policy.

The corner from the film producer is cleared with ease. In that position, when the defence keeps heading it away, it is time to change the game plan on corners. Santa Claus fires the ball over to Krampus with a raking pass, the pitch opens up like a book. Little shift from Krampus to Zendaya, the timing is spot on, the gap opens up. Burst of speed from the movie actor/actress down the flank, the defender is eaten alive. When you have got that raw pace in that role, it is a nightmare for full-backs.

GOAAAL! München Ordnung-Muss-Sein make no mistake! The defence parted like the Red Sea.

Corner cleared by the defence, the film producer was on set piece duty. In that position, you need to find the timing and the area to beat the defence from these situations. Santa Claus goes crossfield to Krampus, the ball gains height, dips, and lands perfectly at the feet. Textbook.

The boss slams the door shut and leans against it. Nobody leaves until he says so. "Look at your faces. You are beaten already and there are still forty-five minutes on the clock. Victor Frankenstein, lift your head up. Søren Kierkegaard, stop sulking. We are footballers, not victims. Now act like it." Dressing room sources reveal Krampus can play the recorder with terrifying proficiency. The 28-year-old whips out Three Blind Mice before every away match — the coach has tried and failed to ban it. And now, our TV game show Countdown to Nowhere! To win a potato peeler from Argos, text 1122 and answer this question: 'What is the postcode for existential dread?' And the second half is go! Mary charges forward from kick-off like a man possessed. The gaffer watches from the technical area, arms folded. Let us see what happens.

It's in the back of the net! München Ordnung-Muss-Sein celebrate and our fans are gutted.

Søren Kierkegaard runs the entire perimeter of the pitch, slapping every hand sticking out of the fence. It takes him nearly two minutes. The roar follows him round the ground. Søren Kierkegaard tries to keep up and gives up at the halfway line.

Trip by Zendaya, the opponent goes tumbling. Standard free kick. Zendaya hits the free kick and it ends up three yards over the bar. Dreadful technique.

Change of flanks from Santa Claus, the ball sails across the entire pitch to find Count Dracula. The necromancer dominates his marker in the air with insulting ease. That kind of aerial mastery in that position makes a team unbeatable from set pieces.

The scientist floats his free kick into the danger zone. In that position, that quality of delivery from dead balls is an absolute weapon. What a leap from Zendaya! He rises above the lot and wins the header with royal composure. Zendaya powers past on the wing, the defender can only watch him go. Zendaya pulls the opponent back as he tries to break. Cynical but necessary. Short free kick from Zendaya to Jacob Tremblay, they are trying the training ground move.

Masterful reading from Krampus who cuts out the through ball. The timing is perfect, the anticipation is frightening. Cracking counter, they've knifed through the middle at full tilt. Frankenstein's monster burns past his man with a sudden burst of acceleration, the defender is left standing. Frankenstein's monster hits it sweetly, ON TARGEEEET! But the keeper punches clear. Corner. Getting heated now!

They go from a standing start but the final touch is completely missing. The necromancer shifts Victor Frankenstein into space, pass weighted to the millimetre. That is his bread and butter, he could do it blindfolded.

Santa Claus unleashes a raking ball out to Leo XIV, it flies through the air and drops like a feather. Top drawer. Acceleration from Leo XIV down the side, he takes the space behind the full-back. It is a motorway. Leo XIV plays the simple ball to Victor Frankenstein, nothing fancy but dead effective. Football does not have to be complicated. Firm pass from Victor Frankenstein into Mary, right into the boots. No waste. Mary plays off Krampus, the return arrives right down the middle and Mary is free as a bird.

Defeat and the dressing room feels like a dentist's waiting room. Victor Frankenstein stares at his boots like they've personally betrayed him. Krampus peels off his tape slowly, methodically. The gaffer says five words: "We'll fix it in training." Everyone believes him. Sort of. And here's the answer to Countdown to Nowhere! Clive Fogsworth, from Grimsby, correctly answered the question, which was 'What is the postcode for existential dread?'. The answer was of course SL1 1AA, which is technically in Slough, and that explains everything. Clive wins this magnificent potato peeler from Argos! Stay with us for: 'Homes Under the Hammer — Martin Roberts discovers a property so haunted even the estate agent won't go inside.' Structural survey pending. Ghost survey: conclusive.

Matchday 15 — vs London Three-Pints

1-2 (L)

The philosopher throws it out to Count Dracula, quick and clever. When your last line of defence plays this well with his feet, it changes everything. The necromancer rises above everyone and wins the header. In that position, aerial dominance is what separates the good from the great. Count Dracula attacks the inswinging cross from Julia Roberts and places a SURGICAL header into the far corner! GOAL!

Søren Kierkegaard climbs the hoardings and stands on top, arms in a V. The stewards are gesticulating but won't pull him down. Julia Roberts films him shouting 'LEGEEEEND!' The stadium DJ drops a tune nobody has heard since the 90s.

Absolutely immense from Mary! Throws his body on the line, wins the tackle, and plays out from the back. They've turned defence into attack in one touch, that's vintage stuff. Victor Frankenstein controls and SHOOTS! On target but the keeper dives and gets a hand to it. Corner. Corner from Victor Frankenstein into the danger zone but the defence stands firm, headed away.

GOAL for London Three-Pints! You can't defend like that and expect to get away with it.

Søren Kierkegaard mimes smashing a penalty into the top corner, arm raised in frozen follow-through. Victor Frankenstein does the wave with contortionist grace. Søren Kierkegaard solemnly applauds. The home end copies the movement in cadence.

Count Dracula plays the free kick into the danger zone, Victor Frankenstein arrives at the penalty spot. Victor Frankenstein powers his header, the ball rockets over the crossbar. It was that close. The philosopher goes long for Jacob Tremblay, fifty yards of precision. In that position, the feet have become mandatory.

Frankenstein's monster sends an aerial beauty to Zendaya, the ball cuts across the pitch like a guided missile. Enormous leap from the movie actor/actress who wins the header. In that role, a player who wins his aerial duels like that is an insurance policy. Zendaya keeps it short to Count Dracula, no frills, just good football intelligence.

The boss slams the door shut and leans against it. Nobody leaves until he says so. "Look at your faces. You are beaten already and there are still forty-five minutes on the clock. Frankenstein's monster, lift your head up. Santa Claus, stop sulking. We are footballers, not victims. Now act like it." A wonderful anecdote — Jacob Tremblay once got lost in an IKEA for two and a half hours. Had to be rescued by staff near the bedroom section. He was 20 at the time and insists the store moved the exits. Classic British Saturday gone wrong. And now, our TV game show Pointless But True! To win a potato peeler from Argos, text 9922 and answer this question: 'Which household appliance became mayor of Stoke-on-Trent in 2003?' They are back. Søren Kierkegaard salutes the travelling fans with a raised fist before taking {his} spot. The faithful respond in kind. Second half. Bring it on.

The necromancer roasts the full-back on the wing. That kind of acceleration in that role creates overloads and turns matches on their head. Count Dracula dribbles into the box, the defender catches him and sends him sprawling. The referee blows IMMEDIATELY: penalty! The heart of the stadium is beating at a THOUSAND miles an hour! VAR signal from the referee, he stops dead in the centre circle. What's he going to give? The ref's been to the monitor and he's cancelling the spot kick! No foul on Count Dracula! Long ball from Søren Kierkegaard for Victor Frankenstein who takes it down on the chest. Fifty yards of pinpoint accuracy.

Mary puts in a monster defensive effort, runs the length of the pitch to cut out the counter-attack. Mary catches the opponent on the ankle, referee blows immediately. Mary puts his free kick on a sixpence into the area, Julia Roberts comes steaming in. The philosopher gathers the ball in his zone. In that position, knowing how to come out and claim a cross is as valuable as a reflex save.

GOAL for London Three-Pints! Their striker has slotted it home, nothing our keeper could do.

Almighty boot from Krampus who clears the danger! The ball travels half the length of the pitch, the defence can breathe. The intensity has dropped to zero, both sides look jaded. Julia Roberts rolls it to Santa Claus, the ball hugs the turf, not a bobble, not a hesitation.

The movie actor/actress wipes out the attacker with a horror challenge. Playing in that role demands composure, not carnage. Booking for Zendaya, the follow-through caught the opponent. Borderline at best. Free kick crossed in by the movie actor/actress into the box! In that position, putting deliveries like that into the area is what creates danger at every set piece. Victor Frankenstein wins the battle in the air against the attacker, he took the elevator while everyone else took the stairs.

Santa Claus cuts out the opposition's build-up with a perfectly timed interception. The kind of player who plays chess while everyone else plays draughts. Lightning counter but the attacker shoots when he should have passed. Effort from Jacob Tremblay, just wide but it was close. The keeper was beaten, just the post in the way. Loads of ball, no ideas, we're waiting for someone to try something. Frankenstein's monster has a crack and BAAANG! Wide but the ball kissed the post on the way out.

The necromancer sets off on a solo raid from deep. When a player in that position triggers a run like that, the opposition defence does not know what hit them. Count Dracula bursts into the box and is SCYTHED down by the defender! Penalty! The referee is categorical. The whole bench is on its FEET, the atmosphere is ELECTRIC! Count Dracula steps up and takes the penalty... POST! The ball comes back, he can't believe it. Søren Kierkegaard launches it up the pitch, the ball drops on Julia Roberts after a fifty-yard flight. Old school.

A loss that will linger. Julia Roberts drives home alone, the radio off, the replay running in his head on repeat. Victor Frankenstein texts him at midnight: "Chin up. We're still in this." Three dots appear. Disappear. Then: "Yeah. I know." Short texts, big feelings. And here's the answer to Pointless But True! Pauline Drizzle-Hatch, from Barnsley, correctly answered the question, which was 'Which household appliance became mayor of Stoke-on-Trent in 2003?'. The answer was of course a Morphy Richards toaster, which won by a landslide and to this day holds the highest approval rating of any mayor in the city's history. Pauline wins this magnificent potato peeler from Argos! Tonight's programming highlight: 'SAS: Who Dares Wins, but it's set in an Ikea on a Bank Holiday weekend.' Navigate the showroom. Survive the car park. Build the furniture. No one passes.