Scary Butcher

Humanely exterminating the latest transfer stories

Terry: Gawd bless im

Random person: Would like money

Cute ikkul kitty-witty: Disgustingly mangled in car engine horror

What happens when the diarrhoeic bull of speculation does his filthy business all over the field of truth, before charging through the electric fence of dignity and ending up on our property? He gets stunned with electricity of nonsense, slaughtered with the blade of pressing deadlines and turned into news, that's what. This is the Rumour Rendering Plant. We're in charge now.

Thicker than water

Sluicing first off the abattoir of lies: everyone has left Chelsea for transfer fees totalling around £1 billion — everyone, that is, except John Terry. Stunned by the news, Carlo Ancelotti is nonetheless hopeful for the Blues' chances this season; "[Terry] bleeds blue. Literally: he has a frightening low red blood cell count. I honestly don't know how he's still alive."

Terry himself says he's up for the challenge. "Modern football's changed. Regulation states a club requires eleven men on the pitch, but I am a million souls, lodged in my gigantic, pulsating lion heart bequeathed to me by St George himself" he told reporters, just after his Manchester City medical.

Is that net or gross?

Every footballer outside England has issued a come-and-get-me plea to a Premier League — any Premier League club. "Ever since the Premier League's most recent TV deal, it has been our lifelong dream to play in England," they said.

Finally, after his shock release from his earthly form, Twiddles, the Rendering Plant mog, is set for a trial with Kitty Heaven (the place, not the burlesque star). Twiddles had attracted the interest of Kitty Hell (the place, not the proprietor of one of the finest S&M dungeons in all of Saffron Walden and environs) on account of him fouling up the office that time but, all going well, he will be joining his siblings Montague and Bruiser at the celestial outfit.

Ah pussy

Asked about the transfer, the Rumour Renderer told the Rumour Renderer: "What am I supposed to do, check under the bonnet for cats every bloody time I want to go for a drive? Stupid fleabag. Wherever he's going, it'll be riddled with mice and all. Bloody useless, that thing. That said, we wish him all the best."

The Rumour Renderer