“I can’t believe he’s still in the job,” said Orthopaedic fan Barry Twomerdes. “It’s been rubbish since he took charge. How can he take these quality players and make one rubbish side out of them? He sticks to 4-4-2 but everyone knows that Darren Copshaft needs to play alone up front with someone playing in the hole behind. When will Acapella understand?”

Copshaft, a part-time painter from nearby village Borlz-by-Gucci, is the highest-paid player on the Orthopaedic side, having been signed from rivals Shytte Remedial for two bitter shandies last season. With a return of eight goals last year, he became the club’s top scorer, but is at a loss as to why Orthopaedic’s slide continues:

“The lads are all trying their best,” he told reporters yesterday. “But the loss to Arschloch hurts a lot. I had to take half a day off work to play this game, so I’ve taken a financial hit as well. That’s how much it means to all of us. You should blame us, not the manager.”

Orthopaedic now go into next month’s Inter-Shytte tournament as underdogs, having not won the title since 1966, the famous “in off the dog” year when feted cocker spaniel “Lucky” ran onto the pitch and deflected a wayward shot into opponents Shytte & Borlz Albion’s net. Forty-four years of hurt later, and some fans refuse to believe that Orthopaedic’s best days are behind them:

“I still believe,” said devoted Orthopaedic fanatic, Kevin Oldhat. “I still reckon we can win it. Every year, I get out my 1966 rattle and wave it around my head like mad. Barry doesn’t like it, but it means something to me. All those years of hurt, and now we’ve got stuck with this overpaid Acapella bloke. I don’t care about all his medals with FC Stronzo in Italy – what I care about is Orthopaedic, and the right here – right now. If he can’t get the best out of these players, well he’s got to go.”

“Some of these players are on two-figure salaries, and it’s probably going to bankrupt the club unless we start winning trophies. They need to show some pride when they put on the Shytte shirt.”

Orthopaedic season ticket holder Maureen Farniente is backing Acapella, saying “If he can’t do it – no one can. They’ve had their chances, we all know they’re the most talented Orthopaedic team since the 60s, and frankly, we’ve got the best manager we’ve had since Bozza, the landlord at the Wyvern, back in the 70s. I just don’t think they care as much as we do. They’d much rather be in their cushy jobs earning four-figure salaries as painters, pizza delivery drivers and benefits scroungers, not playing for the Orthopaedic.”

“We are delighted that Shytte Local Council has decided to join us in this partnership,” wrote Lady Odiaka in an e-mail yesterday. “With the grace of God and the love of Jesus, this partnership can work for the greater good of the people of Shytte. It is what my late husband would have wanted. He always had fond spot in his heart for the people of Shytte, having visited the local Church once in his lifetime. It is great shame that he died in an aircraft accident last year, but great joy that he found time before his untimely death to grant his entire estate to Shytte Local Council.”

Although there is no record of Odiaka ever having visited Shytte, the council has the blessing of residents in rubber-stamping plans for a giant statue of King Moses outside the local branch of Aldi, and as part of the deal, they will set up guided tours of places that King Moses allegedly visited, including Poundsaver and the local brothel, Shytte Girlz.

Councillors were reportedly approached by Mrs Odiaka two months ago, and have undergone protracted negotiations regarding the release of the funds. Shytte Mayor Carbuncle Hounslow told reporters that everything was “absolutely above board,” adding “We have struck up a fantastic relationship with Lady Odiaka, who is a charming, lovely, if sometimes forgetful woman.”

“We frequently exchange e-mails in which she tells us about the horrible hardships she is having to endure to get this money out of the bank account and into ours. Also, the conditions in which she is living are just awful, so we are 100% prepared to welcome her to our town when she finally escapes the clutches of the country’s militia.”

A delegation was sent to Amsterdam, where they had “cordial” meetings with some of Lady Odiaka’s “advisors” at their temporary offices. Hounslow continued: “Our first meeting was planned for a street corner near the Leidseplein, and we were then taken to a cafe, which they are using for their temporary offices until the funds have been released. Naturally, we asked them for plenty of references before handing over our bank account number and sort code, and we are pleased to say that the funds will soon be available.”

Locals are delighted at the financial boost the town will soon be receiving. Indeed, after the riots that occured when it was revealed the council had lost its savings in the Icelandic banks, locals rioted, tearing down the statue of Kerry Katona that the council had established outside the local branch of Woolworths.

Father of eight Maudlin Hoedown said that he was hoping council tax would come down, saying “we could all do with a break, and this African King fella is just what we need. They’ve got my backing all the way.”

“Children should be doing plays about Lord Jesus,” said Reverend Barchester von Trappe. “Not glorifying the life and times of a pop group. My own grandson is playing music mogul and wacky Granada presenter, Tony Wilson, which I believe is a major role in the play. I’d rather he were playing the third sheep in the nativity, if I were to be honest with you. This is sick, just sick. And yes, I do see the parallels between Curtis and Jesus, and I’m uncomfortable with that, despite the spectacular lighting display.”

Jack Gibbons, who plays Ian Curtis in “Joy Division: The Play” said that the whole experience has been an eye-opener: “I didn’t know that they were named after the prostitution wing of a Nazi concentration camp!” explained the goggle-eyed 10-year-old. “So reading about that in class was brilliant. The only bit I don’t like is having to hang myself at the end of the play.”

Aaalixxxsha-Tiger, who plays Peter Hook in the play, says that her parents were “apprehensive” at first, but as soon as they heard the school orchestra’s rendition of “Warsaw”, they were fully on board:

“Some people say it’s a little depressing,” she admitted, “but when you hear the violins, flutes and recorders in Warsaw, you realise it’s better than any nativity play ever! You know, we might only be 10 and 11, but it takes a lot of acting skill to display the friction between a band and its record label.”

Teacher Tony Sweattocks said that “Joy Division: The Play” was a labour of love, adding that the Sex Pistols scenes were “some of the hardest to choreograph”:

“That gig at the Manchester Lesser Free Trade Hall is key to the whole play, but getting children to perform Sex Pistols songs is something that you really do have to square with parents first – as I have discovered. There were several injuries, and I almost lost my job, but it was worth it.”

“We only met a few days ago,” he moaned, “and I thought that we really had something going. Something special. I even took her to meet my parents, Dave and William. But then I found out that she has been texting this scruffy little oik from the north, and that she went out with him, like, years ago. I was devastated. Absolutely devastated. So I gave her an ultimatum – it’s me or the oik.”

Middleground and Whippet allegedly “go back years”, and friends claim that they are still close. Middleground denied any romantic liaison with her ex, saying, “hey, I’m a liberal woman, which means I can be liberal and see who I want, right? There’s nothing between myself and Arthur, we’re just meeting up for a drink, yeah? So I poked him on Facebook the other day and I’ve been following his tweets, but that’s nothing, yeah?”

“We’re old friends from our school days, and yes, he is a bit creepy, but that’s nothing to do with Quentin! He should just chill.”

Carruthers-Quietly, however, is worried that the socialist oik from down the road has been trying to woo Middleground with promises of “unbridled shagging”, something that “only those scummy socialist types do”, adding: “Oh, so this is meant to be all innocent, is it? So why is it that when Shirley came round to mine last night, that Whippet lad was stood outside my window with a box of chocolates? I’ve already offered her a box of Milk Tray and that really has to be my final offer.”

“I’ve made loads of compromises for Shirley, you know. I don’t think she appreciates that. I’ve offered to stop shooting gays and blacks with my air rifle – although I’ve told her that I can’t stop papa from doing it. I’ve even offered to start recycling, although I think I’ll have to take lessons. So frankly, to know that she’s off with that northern oik, well it hurts.”

Sources close to Arthur say that he is “looking for more than just talks” with his ex-girlfriend, and that he’s willing to give up all his bad habits, such as farting in bed and picking his nose in public. Close friend Derek said “he just wants to get into bed with Shirley”, adding that “frankly, anyone will do for Arthur and I’m quite sure he’s already hooked up with a Scottish and a Welsh bird as well as some tree-hugger from Brighton.”

“It’s a disgrace,” claims Hawkwind. “They came knocking on my door in the summer and I’d just won some money on the gee-gees. But times are hard, you know. So when this bald, tanned fella comes knocking, I told him – look – I might have come into a few pounds, but it’s all going on the bills and the kids’ birthdays. So he kept pouring the ouzo, and one thing led to another – before I knew it, he’d stayed for dinner and I’d lent him a fiver.”

“In real terms, that visit probably cost me a tenner, as we gave him lamb shanks and a bottle of plonk, but I can’t really claim that back.”

Several other Shytte residents claim to have been approached by Greece, with several claiming that they were “seduced” into giving the country significant amounts of money. Betty Crocamerde, a retired spinster, claims that she gave Greece £2.50, while several of her neighbours were persuaded to part with their copper coin collections.

“To be honest,” she said, “I didn’t expect to get it back, but at the very least a phone call would be nice. They’re very persuasive. He put his foot in the door, offered me some ouzo and pinched my bottom!”

Greece’s economy is saddled with debts, and it is believed that the country made the door-to-door borrowing session after Romania called in its £15 loan, made several years ago. Romanian Chancellor Nicolaeu Doshescu said that “the Greek government must repay its loans, damnit. Not only does it owe the Romanian people £15, but they owe Cyprus a tenner, and an old man in Macedonia £20. It all adds up, you know, and we want our money back.”

Hawkwind, however, is adamant that the Greek government must pay back his money first: “Yes, I know there was no written agreement, and I know that we didn’t agree a timescale – but this is a gentleman’s agreement above all. I want my fiver back!”

Shytte centre-forward Darren ‘Tubby’ Tumor spent the entire 90 minutes sat in the centre-circle, refusing to play with midfielder Kevin Queerfolk, who he accused of stealing his pint the previous night at the local pub. He explained to reporters afterwards: “Kevin already had a pint, which, I might add – someone had already bought him. He just waited until I went to the toilet to nick mine. That’s low. Very low. I don’t see how we can play in the same team any more.”

Left-back Barry Basildon yesterday withdrew himself from any possible selection by England manager Fabio Capello, stating that “there’s no way that I’d play alongside Alan Gangrene any more – if he’s selected for England, that is. That bastard still owes me a fiver from last week. Will I ever get it back? I doubt that very much. So Mr Capello – please accept my retirement from potentially playing international football.”

Gangrene, Shytte’s right-wing dynamo, was blanked by the whole side as the rift between the two players threatened to blow the team apart. Absolutely nobody shook his hand before the game, and Gangrene afterwards was unrepentant: “I told him he’d get his fiver once we’d got our match fee, but no, he had to have it before the game. I reckon I’ll ask for a transfer to another pub team.”

The only highlight of the game came after thirty minutes when one of the players accidentally forgot about his feud with everyone else and ran half the length of the pitch before pulling up and apologising – an apology that was roundly ignored. Both Shytte fans applauded heartily, however, saying that the mazy dribble around the static Acne defence was “worth the entrance money alone”.

Referee Johnny “Red Card” Walton claimed afterwards that it was the toughest match he has ever refereed, saying “I’ve always got one or two red cards to hand out – but this match was awful – nothing happened? I spent half my time trying to convince them to start moving or at least kick the ball, but they wouldn’t. In fact, the Acne centre-half wouldn’t talk to me at all because I’m sleeping with his mother.”

The blaze started last night just after Mr Chunnersby had come round for his usual fish supper at 8pm. Chip pan executive Darren had apparently “gone outside for a fag”, and failed to notice that his chip pan had exploded and burst into flames. The Shytte-on-Sea fire brigade arrived within twenty minutes, and firefighters attempted to tackle the blaze using their usual tactic – with water.

“It was having some effect,” explained fireman Dave Gruellingshit. “And we do it the same way each time – you know, get the hose out, turn the water on, direct the water at the fire, put the fire out, go home, you know – I’m simplifying it a bit here for the sake of brevity. Anyway, Wayne said – ‘hey guys, you know that expression fighting fire with fire?’ and we all thought there must be some foundation to it. There must be a reason why people say it. So we all thought what the hell, let’s give it a go.”

Gruellingshit proceeded, on the orders of his boss, to throw molotov cocktails into the chip shop, as well as lit matches. “It didn’t work very well”, he continued. “If anything, the fire just got worse. So whoever started that stupid phrase was just being dumb. Fighting fire with fire actually results in more fire. It’s just a shame that we had to find this out the hard way.”

The blaze turned into an inferno and the fire brigade decided to revert back to their usual tactics of using water. “We realise now that fighting fire with fire is not a professional way to go about our business”, admitted Voracious. “But you have to commend us for at least giving it a go. You go find me another fire service that would have tried it out.”

Chippy owner Baz Bazzingham said he was “disgusted” at the fire brigade’s surprise decision to experiment with what is essentially “just an idiom”, adding: “people say it, but you don’t actually mean it. Maybe it’s time we looked at changing this irresponsible idiomatic phrase, as it’s caused enough damage already.”

Furious locals have already started protesting by blanking firefighters whenever they see them in the street. Matilda Ditchmouth who owns the local bakery says “I’m not going to serve them for, ooh, at least a week or so. They burned down my chippy and I’ve got nowt to eat tonight because of them and their ridiculous insistence on taking the metaphorical literally.”

According to former HR Director Karen Krackstick, the problems began when the elderly gentleman was hired: “We were quite a young workforce at the time,” she opined. “Dynamic, you might have said, in the times when it wasn’t discriminatory to use such a word. Anyway, we were told that we had to hire someone older than 20 in order to balance things out, so when Mr Chunnersby applied for a role in the accounts department, we snapped him up.”

“He told us he was looking for somewhere nice to spend the day, which we thought was lovely. However, within a couple of days, people started pulling sickies – especially those who worked close to him. I began to suspect something when he came into my office, took a seat without being asked, and started reminiscing about the “roaring fifties” and how things were “so much better back then.” I let him continue for a while but I felt this nagging sensation of wanting to disembowel myself or prick my eyes out with knitting needles.”

Within a couple of weeks, the company had lost 100 employees who claimed that they just couldn’t hack it any more. The entire training team left within a week, claiming exhaustion, fatigue and a chronic sensation of “doom” after having to explain that the Internet was not called “The Google” and that putting a Blackberry to your ear would not make a gooey mess.

Adverts in the local Jobcentre were routinely ignored, partly because of word of mouth that SMF Ltd. was a “pretty naff place to work”, but also because of Jobcentre requirements that adverts be as bland an inoffensive as possible. Their latest ad, which asked for “organised, motivated and passionate individuals” was banned as it discriminated against “disorganised, lazy and nonchalant individuals”. Instead, it asked for “people”, which had to be reviewed by a Jobcentre panel as it was thought it might discriminate against “non-people” such as animals.

Receptionist Kathleen Yardstick said that she left after Mr Chunnersby asked her to “feel his thighs”. She explained: “He had a thing about cycling to work and his ‘rock-hard’ thighs, you see. If it were anyone else, I’d have done him for sexual harassment, but as it was Mr Chunnersby, I just couldn’t. After that, he just kept hanging round reception talking about how he liked his tea. I thought he’d resign because he was missing Countdown, but then he explained that he’d just got ‘that Sky Plus thingy’ working and he could watch it any time he wanted. That’s when I decided to leave.”

As the weeks went by, the company pruned itself down to the bare bones. With no HR department to fire Mr Chunnersby, eventually only CEO Harry Pantsfire was left. He told the Daily Shame: “I was going down with the sinking ship, as it were, when I thought to myself – how much longer do I have to cope with this crap?”

Shytte Management Facilities Ltd. is now a one-man band, and passers-by often remark on overhearing the droning undertones of a man who has not yet realised that everyone else has left.

“It was strange that we all seemed to realise at the same time”, said Rovers centre-forward Bert Hoofe. “I received a cross from the right and instead of knocking it into the goal, I just caught the ball and suggested we give up. The handful of fans in the ground were all reading magazines and stuff, so we all left the pitch.”

The players from both sides agreed that there “really wasn’t much point” in playing the game, and that while the game had some importance in deciding league positions, it was chilly out, and the pub had special offers on pies.

“I didn’t really feel much like playing anyway”, said Snorkels captain Marc von Hoverkraft. “I mean, it’s not like anyone cares, and when we saw the away fans doing a crossword together, we all thought – what the hey, let’s get indoors.”

This is not the first time that Shytte Rovers have given up on a game before the 90 minutes. Last season, they struck a deal with the referee and the opposing manager to play “next goal wins” so that they could get back to the dressing rooms to watch “My Fair Lady” which was about to start on BBC2. Rovers goalkeeper Ryan “Heavy Lad” Foulkes let the ball slip through his fingers to allow victory for King’s Park Tumors, despite them being 3-1 down at the time.

And famously, five years ago, the team refused to come out of the dressing room because they were feeling “precocious” that day.

Fans’ forums were buzzing yesterday with Rovers fans venting their feelings about the difficulty of the crossword in the matchday programme and the “weak tea” that was being served by the hot dog van. However, nobody appeared to notice that the game had ended prematurely. One fan said “come on the Shytte, great result yesterday”, while another said “I thought the second half was brilliant.”

The Cackbean family first noticed little Jeremy’s Tory leanings when, six months ago, he started leafing through the pages of toff magazine Horse and Hound. His father, Arnold, explained that every Saturday, the family went to the newsagents to get the morning papers, but this visit was particularly unusual: “He always goes for the comics – just like any normal child. But this time he went straight for the Horse & Hound. I panicked!”

The family, who are noticeably ideology-free, decided to seek counselling after Jeremy started sneering at single mothers in the street. “We have no idea how he can distinguish between single mothers and married women who are out on their own without their husband. But he does it. It’s amazing”, says Ida. “He took his dummy out of his mouth when he saw one and shouted ’scrounger’ at the top of his voice. That’s when I decided we had to seek help.”

Child psychologist Harding McParty said that it will be hard for Jeremy to fit in when he goes to school: “He’s already having problems at nursery, asking other children to bring in their parents’ payslips so he can compare. However, with patience and dedication, we’re convinced that he can become a normal child eventually.”

“The worry, of course, is that his Conservative tendencies branch out from the psychological to the physical,” explains McParty. “There are a handful of instances where young children under the age of 5 have gone extremely right-wing, and their hair has started to go oily, and recede.”

The Association for Idoleology-Free Parenting (AIFP) issued advice for parents who are worried that their children might be Tories, saying “gradually wean them off with some videos of Nick Clegg and Vince Cable – steer them into the middle ground, and they’ll eventually grow out of politics and grow into healthy, normal children.”

Little Jeremy, however, still has some way to go, despite his parents’ best efforts. He declined an interview with the Daily Shame, saying “in my day, you lot would have been rotting in jail. Now leave me to my CBeebies.”