Bernstein: No matter how much we punish him, Ferguson won't stop badmouthing the referees, Mike.
Riley: I know, I'm sick of it. Let's just appoint Howard Webb for Sunday to shut him up.
Bernstein: Agreed. We'll ring Howard and tell him.
[bernstein dials old rotary phone]
Webb: Glory glory Man United, this is Howard.
Riley: Howard, it's Mike Riley. I just wanted tell you that you'll be working the Man United v Chelsea match this weekend.
Webb: I can't.
Riley: Why not?
Webb: I'm playing for United. The boss said that Michael Carrick is worse at football than a Darron Gibson is at Twitter so I'll be playing in the midfield. I'm so excited!
Riley: You can't be serious, Howard. You won't be playing for Manchester United and Alex Ferguson is not your boss!
Webb: Yeah, he is. He sends me a dead cat once a week with a note attached that says "I'm your boss! Fergie xx"
Riley: I don't believe this.
Webb: I know, I can't believe it, either. I've dreamed of this day for so long!
Riley: Well, you're not playing in that match. You'll be the referee and that's final, Howard.
Webb: Fine.
Riley: And you'll show a player a red card if he kicks an opponent in the chest, like we talked about?
Webb: Fine.
Riley: Good.
Webb: Can I wear my Man United shirt while I work, though?
Riley: No.
Webb: Please?
Riley: No!
Webb: You probably won't even make me a sandwich after the match with bread shaped like a heart the way Mr. Alex does, will you?
Riley: Yeah, no.
Webb: (quietly weeps)