Nottingham Forest had successfully defended their title, which made another person feel like he was sitting on pins and needles.
When Forest's players had a day off, Carl Spicer was in a terrible mood when he woke up early in the morning. His phone had been switched off since the end of yesterday's match. He did not want anyone to disturb him, because the moment he switched it on, he would definitely receive a lot of calls from the media, asking him when he was going to fulfill his promise.
Eat the table?
Stop joking! Is that something a human can eat? I'm not a rat!
He did not have time to regret his bet with Twain. He had to rack his brains to think of a way to avoid making a fool of himself.
Just then, he heard the doorbell.
A courier company employee stood at the door and smiled at him. "Mr. Carl Spicer?"
"Uh, I am."
Spicer had just woken up not long ago. He was not neatly dressed and had not shaved. His sleepy look made him look a little haggard.
"There's something for you."
The courier pointed to a big box behind him.
Spicer could already guess what was inside. Because if Twain lost the league title, he would also receive a package like this at his door. It was just that the sender had to be switched.
In that instant, a flash of anger flashed across his face. He was about to deny it. "Uh, I'm not …"
Before he could finish his words, he saw a dozen or so reporters holding cameras and video cameras suddenly appear from the flowerbed beside him, furiously taking pictures of him.
There were even people holding up microphones and shouting at him, "Mr. Carl Spicer! Tell us what you think! Nottingham Forest has won the championship … "
Twain, that bastard!
Spicer cursed fiercely in his heart. He was not a fool. He knew that the courier and the reporters lying in ambush beside his house must have been arranged by Twain. He wanted to see him make a fool of himself.
Now, he could not deny his identity.
The courier was also shocked by the sudden appearance of the reporters. He turned back to look at the situation behind him and laughed again. He was a fan. He understood the feud between Carl Spicer and Tony Twain.
"Mr. Carl Spicer, please sign here." He held back his laughter and turned to speak to Spicer.
Since denying his identity would not work, Spicer could only obediently sign his name on the form.
The delivery man had no intention of helping Spicer carry the box into the house — Spicer actually hoped that he would do that so that the media at the entrance would not be able to see the commotion.
However, the courier turned around and left after receiving the bill.
Spike had no choice but to move the box himself. He realized that the box was very heavy and he couldn't carry it alone. After trying a few times, he looked helplessly at the reporters who were laughing and watching the show. These people would definitely not come forward to help.
"Why don't you open it and take a look, Mr. Spicer?" A reporter asked loudly.
"If it's a table, it would be more convincing to eat it here."
"If it's not a table, we're not interested in staying here …"
Spicer's expression was uncertain. The sender's name was written on the list. What else could Tony Twain have sent other than a table?
The reporters, who were eager to see the world in chaos, kept on making a ruckus, insisting that Spicer open the box in front of them.
Spicer finally admitted defeat. He would not be able to escape this calamity anyway …
He slowly opened the package. To his surprise, the first thing that came into view was not a wooden or metal table, but a huge cake box.
What was this?
Spicer stared blankly at the box that emitted the aroma of butter. The reporters also did not expect this to be inside the box.
Could it be that Tony Twain had ordered an extra-large cake for Spicer?
Spicer had already thought of something. He hurriedly opened the lid of the cake box. Then, he looked at the thing inside and laughed — — as expected.
A table that was the size of a real table was shaped like a chocolate cream cake. It even emitted a rich aroma of butter and chocolate in the morning air.
Even the reporters ten steps away could smell it. They looked at each other, somewhat confused — — If Tony Twain wanted to make a fool of Spicer, why would he send an edible "table" to give Spicer a way out?
Could it be that the two of them decided to use this opportunity to reconcile?
That would really be too boring!
Ferguson had retired, Wenger had the intention to retire, Mourinho had left and never returned, and now Carl Spicer and Tang En were about to reconcile. How were they going to let them, the journalists, survive?
Regardless of what the reporters were thinking, Carl Spicer was in a good mood. It was as if he had successfully excreted his bowels after holding it in for a whole night after waking up early in the morning. He smelled the alluring aroma of the cake and suddenly felt hungry — — it was time for breakfast.
"Ha, a well-baked cake!" Spicer rubbed his hands together and laughed. He looked up at the reporters. "Want to have breakfast together, guys?"
The reporters shook their heads, their expressions unfriendly — — this was not a scene they wanted to see. They were only waiting for Spicer to take a bite of the "table" and leave after taking a photo. They were not in the mood to accompany him for breakfast.
Spicer, however, was not in a hurry. He first went back to the house to make a glass of milk, then tied a napkin around his neck and reappeared in front of everyone with a knife and fork in his hands.
"What a pity … … I can't finish such a big cake by myself …" He pretended to look regretful. That expression really made the reporters grit their teeth. He was really taking it for granted.
When he was about to enjoy the cake, he realized that there was a card stuck beside the cake. It was written by Tony Twain himself.
Dear Mr. Carl Spicer,
The best chocolate cream cake, I hope you like it. I also hope to take this opportunity to express my goodwill to you and write off all the grudges between us. If we continue to fight, we will just be a show for the reporters to watch. You and I are just clowns in their eyes. Do you see them? They should be right in front of you, right? Look at their eyes. You must have the same look when you go to the circus to see a clown, right? We don't have to sacrifice ourselves to entertain them. Finally, I apologize for what I said to you in the past.
Your dearest friend, Tony Twain.
Tony Twain actually took the initiative to show off!
This was really sensational news. Spicer had already decided to brag about it on his show. Although he was forced to eat the "table", it was good to use this method to save some face … At the same time, he thought — — maybe Tony Twain was not that annoying …
After wiping the card and putting it in his pocket, Spicer began to eat with a smile on his face. He used a knife to cut off a piece of cake, then used a fork to put it in front of his open mouth.
The reporters very cooperatively raised their cameras and video cameras to take pictures and footage of him "eating the table."
When the reporters were done taking pictures, Spicer then put the cake into his mouth. As he chewed, he gave a thumbs up and raised his eyebrows. Although he could not speak, he used his expression and actions to praise the delicious taste of the cake.
To prove that he was not putting on an act, he ate a few more pieces in a row. In the end, he just used his hands to eat it. After eating, he even put his fingers into his mouth to suck and lick off the chocolate and cream. Then he raised his index finger and smiled foolishly at the reporters.
His expression was really asking for a beating. The reporters felt that they had been played by Twain and Spicer. They were also not interested to continue watching. There was nothing interesting to watch here. So, everyone packed up their things and dispersed.
Only Carl Spicer was still very pleased with himself as he moved a chair over and continued to sit at the door of his house to eat the "table" that Twain had sent over.
Looking at his satisfied expression, it was as if he could not wait for more waves of reporters to come and take pictures of him.
※ ※ ※
That afternoon, the news of Carl Spicer eating the table appeared on the newspapers, television stations, and the internet. When everyone saw Spicer sitting at the door of his house and eating the cake, they were all very surprised. The news mentioned that Tony Twain had specially given it to Spicer. The audience and the reporters at the time had the same confusion — — Why would Twain give an edible table to Spicer? Didn't he always want to see Spicer make a fool out of himself?
Regarding this, the media gave their own guesses:
"… Maybe Twain is tired of spitting at each other with Spicer and wants to use this opportunity to reconcile the two of them."
This explanation was reasonable and many people believed it.
Only a small group of people insisted that it was impossible for Twain to take the initiative to show weakness after winning the bet. In their impression, Tony Twain was someone who always pretended to be obedient after taking advantage of others. If he had the upper hand, then his opponent could only wait for death. Furthermore, they would not be able to rest in peace even after death. They would be hung on the city gates and whipped as a warning to the public. He liked to knock his opponent to the ground and then step on them with millions of feet, continuously crushing them until the opponent's entire body was trampled into the mud.
Was that why he was so hated? He completely did not know how to leave some face for others. He was insolent, conceited, self-righteous, supercilious, and wild when he had the upper hand … It was not easy for all these negative evaluations of human characters to be concentrated on him alone. But there were still many people who madly liked him and chased after him. The reason was very simple — because he was always the winner. He always had the right to be wild.
The "table eating" incident that everyone was looking forward to had ended so indifferently. It was really very boring.
Such news had no value to hype up, so the media also let Spicer off. He could finally turn on his phone again and did not have to worry about the harassment from the media.
The first person who called him when he turned on his phone was the producer of "These Things About Football". He smiled and said to Spicer, "Looks like you dodged a bullet, Carl. Alright, let's not talk about this anymore. There's nothing valuable to hype up anyway. Come over and prepare for the live broadcast tonight. There's a lot of things for you to decide on for the end of the season special program. "
Spicer hung up the phone and drove out of the house, feeling satisfied.
The end of the season special program, the champion was the highlight. The champion Nottingham Forest would definitely take up more time for the program. Fortunately, Twain gave him a way out this morning. He was in a good mood, so he decided to give Twain some face by not mocking the new league champions in the program that night.
Alright, it was better to pretend to sincerely congratulate Nottingham Forest. Although he intended to focus on the match between Arsenal and Manchester City, because this match was the main event that would decide who the league champions would be. There was no suspense in the match between Forest and Sunderland, so there was nothing worth paying attention to.
※ ※ ※
In the afternoon, after having sex with his wife in bed for 300 rounds, Twain fell into a deep sleep and only woke up when the lanterns were lit. Shania was in the kitchen making dinner.
Hearing his footsteps, she said without turning her head, "Go watch TV, dinner will be ready in a while."
"Do you need help?"
"No need." Shania turned her head and smiled at him. "You just have a good rest today. You don't have to do anything."
Twain smiled back and obediently left the kitchen to turn on the television in the living room.
Looking at the time, it was almost eight o 'clock.
This was the prime time of the day for the television station, and all kinds of exciting programs were concentrated at this time. But Twain was not interested in most of the television programs. He held the remote control and aimlessly changed the channel. Whenever he met something that was slightly interesting, he would stop to watch a few times and change the channel when he lost interest.
Just like this for a while, his mind, which had just woken up and was still a little groggy, gradually became clear.
He thought of something. This matter was very important.
So, he changed the channel to Sky Television's sports channel.
Then he looked at his watch.
The television was still playing commercials. He had already forgotten about eating dinner …
※ ※ ※
If he could, Carl Spicer would want to immediately drop his work and rush to the toilet — even if this was his eighth time going to the toilet, he still could not hold back the urge to defecate deep in his stomach.
The producer looked worriedly at the painful expression on Spicer's face. Of course, he knew what was wrong with his host. He must have eaten something bad. But he had no choice. This was a live show, it was impossible to cancel it at the last minute just because the host had diarrhea. Otherwise, the sponsors would eat him raw.
"I'm fine, I'm fine …" Spicer continued to study the script for the night.
The producer patted him on the shoulder, "It's going to start soon, go and watch it again."
As soon as he finished speaking, Spicer rushed out.
Outside the door, there was the scream of a lady who had been knocked down, and Spicer's distant apology.
When Spicer appeared in front of the producer with a tired expression, the producer did not say anything. He only patted him on the shoulder, indicating that it was time for him to go out.
Spicer's expression suddenly looked like he was going to the execution ground. He gritted his teeth and walked into the studio with determination.
When he started to host the show in front of the camera with his habitual cold smile, his lower body was moving around on the chair, and his stomach was growling non-stop.
"… Tony Twain's team won the league title as they wished … They … Hmm, they won this championship title by a narrow margin. Until the end of their competition, the league title still belonged to Arsenal …"
The attentive audience must have noticed that Carl Spicer, who was usually eloquent, spoke quickly, and always overwhelmed his doubters with his imposing manner, was speaking very slowly today. He tried hard to make himself look like he was in deep thought, but in the eyes of the audience, they only felt that he was strange today. Something was not right, but they could not tell what exactly was wrong.
"… I didn't expect Bendtner … to score in the last minute to help Manchester City force a draw with Arsenal. Nottingham Forest won the championship in a dramatic manner … Here, I have to congratulate Nottingham Forest … "
Spicer gritted his teeth as he spoke. At the same time, he was cursing hysterically in his heart, shouting:
"Damn bastard! Tony Twain! What kind of cake did you give me!! You despicable and shameless demon, you deserve to be cut into pieces in the 18th level of hell! I'll curse you to never have any descendants!!! "
His stomach suddenly let out a rumbling sound. Spicer's face turned green when he heard this sound …
※ ※ ※
The majority of the television audience would not know why Carl Spicer was acting so strangely tonight. But there was one person who definitely knew, because he was laughing happily in front of the television.
"What are you laughing at, Uncle Tony?" Shania heard the laughter and walked out curiously. Then she saw Carl Spicer on the television screen.
"Oh, that person … Didn't you give him a cake table? Why do I feel that his expression is still very bad?"
Twain laughed as he explained to Shania, "Ah, I ordered that thing a few days too early. And you know, such a big cake, there's no refrigerator that can store it. The weather is getting hotter these few days … "
Shania understood, and a smile appeared on her face as if she was watching a good show, "Ah — — Uncle Tony, you're so bad!"
※ ※ ※
The next day, Carl Spicer angrily attacked Tang En's despicable and shameless tricks in his column, and described his tragic experience of having diarrhea because he ate a cake that had passed its expiration date.
But he did not receive much sympathy.
On the contrary, he became the new laughing stock of the whole of England.
There were even some busybodies who left comments under his column, asking if he had pooped his pants while supporting the show.
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