The lights go dim and I motion to the site manager, David's about to arrive, it's no time for electrical faults. But, soon, the lights begin to flash radically. Music comes on. I immediately make it out to be Mr. Haye's theme song.
Mr. Haye struts in and sits opposite me.
Me: Well Mr. Haye, er, David? I'm pleased to meet you, you're a wonderful athlete obviously, how are you.
Haye: Please, call me the Hayemaker, or Mr. Haye Or your highness, or King Leopold the 98th.
Me: Yes, Mr. Your Hayemakersness, lets, get straight into it, shall we? Who're you're heroes? Mohammed Ali? Winston Churchill?
Haye: You know, the greats, Mr. Emmanuel Eboue, Mr. Cristiano Ronaldo. I tried to honor them yesterday, that's what was up with all the diving.
Me: Ah. You look a little twitch, you okay?
I'm fine, still a bit sore. (He grins wickedly)
Me: Yes, you must be sore, that was quite a beating you took.
Haye: I'm not talking about that, the brute had nothing on me. I'm strong, was talking about me toe.
Me: Yes, your toe, do you mind filling us in, how did it happen?
Haye: We was in the prep room before the fight, me and a couple homeboys and we were havin' a laugh and then, one thing led to another, lube everywhere, you know how it goes...(winks)...so in the rumble, I can't remember who was on top, I stubbed my, er..."toe"
Me: Ah! was that the reason for your delay then? No mind games?
Haye: No, no mind games, I even brought you a picture from a scan I had this morning:
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Haye: Yeah, there I am, there's my toe.
Me: Er, Your Haye-ward-ness that isn't you
Haye: Is, I drew it myself
Me: That isn't how a scan works
Haye: Is too
Me: Isn't
(15 minutes later)
Me: Isn't
Haye: Is TOO! (Bursts in a fit of tears) You see what you did you broke my toe again. (runs away)
Me: David! DAVID!! I'm sorry....
That's it folks, an exclusive interview with Mr. David Haye, brought to you by The Dead Red Sun. Not like that impersonator that SSN employed
#teamklitschko
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