*Throws LiverLuke through a table and goes to sit underneath the titantron, Mic in hand*
LiverLuke, while you lay there, hopefully as uncomfortable as you possibly can be, I want you to listen to me.
I want you to digest this because before I leave in 3 weeks with the Survivor series draft championship, I have a lot of things I want to get off my chest.
I don’t hate you, Luke. I don’t even dislike you. I do like you. I like you a hell of a lot more than I like most people in the back.
I hate this idea that you picked the best, you didnt, i picked the best. I picked the best in the world. There’s one thing you’re better at then i am and thats kissing Anywhichwayucan's ass.
You’re as good as kissing Anywhichwayucan ass as Y2J was. I don’t know if you’re as good as Chakan though. He’s a pretty good ass kisser. Always was and still is.
Whoops! I’m breaking the fourth wall! (Barnsley waves to the camera)
I am the best drafter in the world.
I’ve been the best since day one when I walked into this draft. And I’ve been vilified and hated since that day because Frank. saw something in me that nobody else wanted to admit. That’s right, I’m a Frank. guy. You know who else was a Frank. guy? Malaysian Kopite. And he split just like I’m splitting. But the biggest difference between me and Malaysian Kopite is I’m going to leave with the Draft championship.
I’ve grabbed so many of Anywhichwayucans brass rings that it’s finally dawned on me that there just that, they’re completely imaginary. The only thing that’s real is me and the fact that day in and day out, for almost six months, I have proved to everybody in the world that I am the best on this draft, in the off topic, even in the main forum, Nobody can touch me!
And yet no matter how many times I prove it, I’m not on your lovely little end of season reviews. I’m not on the cover of the website. I’m barely listened to. I don't get to be a moderator. I’m certainly not in anybodys clique . I’m not on the poster of RAWK. I don't have a post count of over a thousand. I’m not on Anfield warp. I’m not on Kopite talk. But the fact of the matter is, I should be.
This isn’t sour grapes. But the fact that LiverLuke is a legend and I’m not makes me sick!
Oh hey, let me get something straight. Those of you who are cheering me on right now, you are just as big a part of me leaving as anything else. Because you’re the ones who are bowing to those mods right now. You’re the ones that complain when someone uses a social network site to canvass votes because you were too stupid to think of it yourself!
I’m leaving with the Draft Championship soon. And hell, who knows, maybe I’ll go defend it in Liverpoolfc.tv. Maybe…I’ll go back to This is Anfield.
(Barnsley looks at the camera and waves)
Hey, Nicky English, how you doing?
The reason I’m leaving is you people. Because after I’m gone, you’re still going to pour votes into this draft. I’m just a spoke on the wheel. The wheel is going to keep turning and I understand that. Anywhichwayucan is going to get votes despite himself. He’s a quarter finalist who should be a winner. You know why he’s not a winner? Because he surrounds himself with glad-handed, non-sensical, douchebag (censored) yes men, like Moldyman, who’s going to tell him everything he wants to hear but then vote against him, and I’d like to think that maybe this draft will better after Anywhichwayucan is banned. But the fact is, it’s going to be taken over by his idiotic friends and the doofus cliques and the stupid forum.
(Muted)
