That rings a bell, a. Was he an appallingly rude wengerouter as well?
Makes you think, doesn’t it? Here one minute calling our manager a senile French ****, next thing, nada, nichts, rien, nothing. Just the blackness.
Dunno. He may have exchanged some words with the Chief at some point. One hopes it's blackness, of course. Far preferable to the pits of eternal hellfire, I'm sure.
How bravely the young speak of death eh c? Wait until that first time in middle age when Mother Eternity runs her cold finger ddown his spine - he'll tremble like a scolded child so he will.