Say what you will about Scotland and its ugly, misshapen women, forever drunk and out of work men with their lumpy, dough-like skulls, the heroin-dulled permanent glazes affixed to every school-skipping teenage mother of two, and inability to be understood by anyone but their closest hill kin, they’re a proud people. That’s why their football team’s recent humiliations – in particular losing to Kazakhstan in a match akin to David routing a more experienced but filled up to his nipples with bile and stupid David – have hit England’s upstairs shut in hard.
Fear not, however, for as sure as the poppy sprouts each spring, so too does a hero emerge from the … lovely … Scottish countryside.
With a little luck, and a handful of strategically dangled treats, the Scots just might avenge that loss and return to their former, more dignified status as Place Barely Better Than Kazakhstan.
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