Here at Four Five Two, we’ve managed to get a hold of Pepe for his reaction to the whole “hand stamp” incident from last week’s Copa del Rey Superclásico. What he told us may surprise you.
Hello, my name is Képler Laveran Lima Ferreira. You know me as Pepe. I am one of los Galácticos. Many people are angry with me for stepping on the hand of Messi. I am truly sorry.
Wait, no. I am not. I HATE Barça, and I especially HATE Lionel Messi. My hatred for them burns with the fire of ten thousand suns. You must understand: at Real Madrid, we are forced to play against los Culés like twenty times every year. AND THEY ALWAYS WIN! It is so annoying. They are soooo smug about it, too. “Oh, we respect Real. We like the challenge of playing them.” NONSENSE! They piss on us and make us look like buffoons. It gets old.
It is like if you are working at the Staples, and every week you have to work two shifts with that one guy. You know the one. He does everything perfect. He wins Employee of the Month every time, and all the customers love him. They do not want to speak to you, no. They say, “I am just looking”. Then they go find THAT GUY and ask him for help. Then, in the break room, he brags about how the manager picked HIM to go to the annual Staples convention in Vegas and he took his girlfriend and they got sooo drunk and had all the sex. And where were you? Re-stocking the post-it notes! It’s enough to make you want to shoot up the place.
Messi is that guy. “Ooh, look at all my Golden Balloons! Look at all my Chaaampions trophies! Love me, kiss me!” I HATE him.
I know that I am not the most talented Galáctico. I do not have the scoring instinct of Pipita, the beautiful crosses of Di Maria, or the stunning good looks of Cristiano. For this reason, Mr. Mou has made me the enforcer. It is not an easy job, but I accept it. I have mastered the late, studs-up, two-footed slide tackle. I know all the soft spots on Xavi’s rib cage. The deep bruises on Iniesta’s thighs bear the imprint of my knee. I am the enforcer. I must destroy them all.
But Messi. He is the worst of all the Barça stars. You know why? Because he does not even give me the time of day! I try to greet him in the tunnel before the match. He rolls his eyes, turns around and continues talking to David Villa about his crushed velvet underpants. Then, on the pitch, he dribbles right by me like I am standing still! He takes shots on goal even though I am right there trying to block him! Then that one time that I stole the ball from him, he laughed and acted like he made a blooper. It is like I am not even there.
You see, I have an ah, how you say? Ah yes… huge man-crush on Lionel Messi. He is my favorite player in the whole world. I make highlight videos of his goals and post them on YouTube. I even liked him on Facebook. But he did not like me back. Do you know how many “likes” Messi has on the Facebook? Thirty millions!!! Do you know how many I have? 339,438. That is barely enough to fill the Bernabeu! I sent him texts, voice mail, teddy grams. And for what? Nothing. He goes to children’s hospital and spends hours with the sick boys and girls, but he cannot even look me in the eyes and say, “Hello, Pepe. How are you?”
So I step on his hand.
NOW YOU WILL NOTICE ME, LEO. I am right here. CALL ME. We can hang out and play FIFA. I will order some pizzas. We can do a sleepover and stay up late watching my collection of GOAL movie DVDs. PLEASE, LEO! I NEED YOU! [ed. note: Pepe bursts into tears, sobbing uncontrollably] WHY DON’T YOU LOVE ME, LEO?! WHY? I HATE YOU!!!