The Board
Dili attempts to steal the FA Cup.
Dili – First of Her Name, Queen of the Globe Pub and Gooner Gras, Mother of Malört Shots
About Me:
Ah, yet another one of my faithful subjects has arrived before me in my throne room, no doubt hoping for some blessing I can bestow. Alas, I am in an ill mood today as Arsenal and indeed all of football is on yet another never-ending international break. Do they not know that I care little for their Nations League? Bring me my weekly club football matches at once or feel my wrath!
Forgive my outburst. I know that even I, ruler of all I see, can no more will the Premier League season to return before its time than I can command the sun to halt its rising or setting. Tis well. Speak, peasant! And if your words please me I may indeed grant your request, but be forewarned that if you should cross me whilst I am in this foul mood I will not hesitate to have my house guards throw you in the deepest pit of my dungeons. Now state your business!
Here, the Matt attracts a mate by flashing his colorful head flags.
Matt - vices president
About Me:
I could tell by the shadows the sunlight threw across my desk that it wasn’t quitting time yet. Hell, it wasn’t that much past noon. I pour myself a stiff drink anyway and just then my office door swings open. A dame walks in, a blonde, dressed like she had somewhere to be and this dive wasn’t it. Looking at her all I see is legs, all the way up to the end of her legs, right where they connected with her body, just like legs should do. “This one’s gonna be trouble,” I think to myself as the whiskey fills my pint glass.
”I’m sorry, were you talking to me?” she asks.
”Oh, I didn’t think that was out loud.” Dammit. My inner monologue went and transitioned itself to an outer monologue at just the wrong time. Wait, I didn’t say that out loud too did I? She’s still looking at me like maybe I got a few screws loose but she hasn’t said anything in reply so I think I’m good. I gulp down several swigs of whiskey. “Thank goodness for that.”
”For what?”
Son of a bitch. If I can’t keep the gritty narration in my head, this case is gonna be tougher than a piece of bacon that fell behind the griddle six years ago. I need to focus. And I’m getting too old for this. I take several more swigs of whiskey. Just my luck. Now the room is spinning.
”Jack,” she says, “I need a favor.”
”My name’s Matt. Vices President. It’s literally printed on the door you just walked through.”
”Oh, sorry. I must have the wrong office.”
See what I mean? I knew she was gonna be trouble.
Jim is confused.
Jim – Unfrozen Caveman Outreach
About Me:
Hey, I’m just a regular guy who left his cave to hunt some mammoths to feed his family, fell into an ice ravine, and awoke twenty thousand years later to a world I barely recognize. And sure, sometimes this world can be strange and confusing. Buildings rise taller than the tallest trees. Flying machines carry people to faraway places in less than a day. Harry Kane keeps playing for Spurs knowing that he’ll never win a trophy with them. There are so many modern mysteries that are difficult for a caveman like me to understand.
Thankfully, even before I knew how to speak your language and wear your confining yet stylish clothing, I was accepted by the Chicago Gooners. Thanks to all of my new friends here, I’ve learned how to properly line up outside before the pub opens for an early match, to shower regularly, to not break apart my furniture to light a fire in the middle of my living room, and all the other skills that a modern human needs. Now I work with other unfrozen cavemen, helping them to adjust to modern life, avoid Tottenham fandom, and become productive members of society.
Lauren is thriving.
Lauren – Lvl 18 Halfling Bard
About Me:
“About,” O what a question to be asked!
I scarce recall the last to query same.
And should you wish to see this bard unmasked
Attend the Globe for any Ars’nal game.
When our boys score, O wonderous event!
The whole pub crowd embraces arm in arm.
But don’t mistake comrad’ry for consent
Beguiled as you may be by all my charm.
My visage all would say is passing fair
And dulcet tones are known to pass my lips
Yet woe to he who’d dare to touch my hair
Or unallowed lay hands upon my hips.
Though stature’d never place me ‘mongst the talls
I’ve height enough to punch you in the balls.
I need your clothes, your boots, and a piggyback ride.
Zach – Enforcer
About Me:
I am a Cyberdyne Systems Model 49-49: living tissue over robotic endoskeleton. My CPU is a neural-net processor; a learning computer. The more contact I have with humans, the more I learn. My mission is to protect you. Thirty-five years from now, you reprogrammed me to be your protector here, in this time. I have detailed files on human anatomy. It makes me a more efficient killer. Also, your foster parents are dead.
This is also his LinkedIn profile picture.
CARLOS – Director of Football Watching Operations
About Me:
Look Jerry, before kickoff tomorrow we need to- Can I help you? Hang on a second, Jerry. Some kind of vagrant just wandered into my office. Who let you in? Now see here, this is a private office. We don’t just let in hobos off the street. Jerry? Yeah, I’m gonnna have to call you back. Cheryl! Cheryl, call security! Just what do you think you’re doing in here? Out! Out I say! Shoo! Oh this is intolerable. Get out of here you… you… miscreant! Where is that confounded security guard? Cheryl! Gosh darn it, what do I even pay these people for?
“The camera eats first!”
Cristal – Executive Chef
About Me:
Listen up, ladies. The important thing to remember when you’re trying to get a man interested in watching Arsenal with you is that you can’t just flame him with your encyclopedic knowledge of all things football. Such a sustained barrage of heat will leave him bewildered, and somewhat leathery. Rather, I suggest you apportion your ravenous love of a North London positively dripping with red over a longer time (I recommend 90 minutes plus stoppages, at 425°). If you evenly distribute your attacking forays, paying special attention to his flanks, such a method will always result in the most delicious outcome for all involved. Pairs well with fava beans and a nice chianti.
Regrets.
Allan – Burning Man
About Me:
Well I first started watching Arsenal back—hoooo…ok, that’s uh…that’s seriously intense. I thought I was okay but holy shit that hit real hard just then. Just gimme a minute here. Goddamn…Hrrrrrk. Nah, I’m good. I’m good. No but for real though it’s like I can feel this in my teeth. Ooooof. I’m trying to just power through this but I dunno man. Yaaaah! Ok, now my lips are—no it’s like they’re on fucking fire. Jesus fuck. Do they have milk here? My god…my tongue is just-- yeah, creamer’s fine. This water ain’t doing shit. I might uh…haaa…I might just go to the bathroom for a sec…just gonna…urgh…yeah. Fuck.
S.A.M.C.R.A.N.E.
S.A.M.C.R.A.N.E.
About Me:
The Sentient Arsenal Matchday Computer for Real-time Autonomous Notification Enabling (S.A.M.C.R.A.N.E.) is a massively powerful AI mainframe hidden deep within the basement of the Globe Pub, next to the kegs. After we loaded it up with 27 terabytes of Arteta postgame speeches, pictures of Bukayo Saka, a rare 4K recording of Liverpool v Arsenal 1989, and an ungodly amount of explicit Olivier Giroud fan fiction, it spontaneously developed the ability to automatically generate our matchday graphics. So we just kind of let it do that.
Cale understands the forbidden love between a man and a stuffed bear.
CALE - BAR HUSBAND
About Me:
Sorry, can’t talk now. The Arsenal is on.