Now isn’t there a typo somewhere above, Scholars? Look again! ‘Movies’ and ‘Mourinho’ never occur in the same sentence! It’s like finding the pope skating in the streets of LA with Kendrick Lamar’s Bitch Don’t Kill My Vibe blasting in his headphone. It’s that bizarre! But here’s what I do know; one as huge as Mou could only star in a series! A blockbuster series Game of Thrones would have nothing on! Roger? Good! So we had one brewing…
The man Mou has courted controversies, so much so as to rival Balotelli. I love Mou, he comes second to Balotelli for me. And that’s why I’m proposing a series of documentary, or mockumentary, with of course great touch of adventurous fiction and CGI-garnishing, in honour of the man. I got a window to send my ideas to a giant film house and this is what I came up with.
Series Title: Implacável. Season One
Set in: Alcácer do Sal, Setúbal.
Staring: José Mourinho
Highlights: This features Mou as very ruthless, severe, clinical, and of course painfully sarcastic. Here he’s a great sword swinger whose blood never gets drawn on the arena. This was inspired by his time at Porto, his first coming at Chelsea to wrestle power from local warlords—Alex and Arsene—and making pathetic Chelsea fans believers. He went through first season conceding a meager 9 goals in 38 matches, grossing 95 points. Phew! He achieved feats at Inter and Madrid too (at least in the season before his last there). Great wines get served first, so Season One of this series is his best. He’s the Special Wine- sorry, One! There’d be a lot of gory and explicit scenes to leave Spartacus feeling like a priest. Mou, however, feeds his pleasure with the blood of his foes.
This features Mou as far from ruthless, far from youthful, and of course far from confident. He isn’t Special, he is the Happy One. And he’s far from happy too. While his home remains a fortress, there’s no telling what ‘small’ nation might hold his army to ransom. Here he bleeds, a big dawg in big fights, but he fcukin’ bleeds! There’s no doubt his reign does not tower head and shoulder above others. He’s even got an injured foot- no, not Achilles Heel- just minor injury. Ardent followers of this series won’t be so thrilled.
Here, Great Mou sometimes forgets his sword at home, thinking, like a quarrelsome housewife, that the battleground is a talking ground where the one with the fiercest adjectives bags the silver trophy. Given his recent bickering with City and Gunners bosses, one would, by projection, be very certain that Mou would become a sissy muthafcuka by May. Well, unless he learned to bicker less, and remembers always never to leave his sword sheathed.
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