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