Fu Lanke, a Chinese-American billionaire, sold ten famous paintings in exchange for an English Premier League club, becoming the league's seventh American owner.
This wasn't her first club purchase. Besides her Premier League club, she also owned a Portuguese second-division club, an American baseball club, and an American football club.
She once said that these clubs were like dolls displayed in her shop window. Whenever she felt like it, she could take one out and play house, and that made her happy.
She sounded like a sweet, innocent girl, if she hadn't married a player and then quickly sold her husband to another club. Worse, she'd done it twice.
And since Americans had a terrible reputation in football, especially in Europe's top five leagues, she was naturally met with fierce backlash from fans.
She walked up to the rowdy crowd of fans with a microphone and said:
"I sold ten paintings to buy your club and paid off all its debts. That's right, it's another one of my dolls, but it's my most expensive and beloved one. I'll take good care of it unless I'm driven out of this country. I swear I won't use it to do business, get involved in politics, or borrow money from banks. I respect its past, present, and future. Its culture will be the most treasured gown in my wardrobe, its legends the jewels on my chest, and its players the golden chains sewn along its hem. When I become queen, it will be the crown on my head."
Vandela, a young player from a Brazilian favela, was devoutly religious. He decided to follow the example of a legendary Brazilian player and remain a virgin until marriage.
But after witnessing the chairwoman's speech in person, he changed his mind. His teammates told him that she liked picking young, handsome guys from her team. So he felt his face, which had already drained the Brazilian national team of fifty years' worth of good looks, and decided to offer himself up.
Sure enough, she picked him at first glance.
He was still celebrating when he saw the chairwoman busy snatching players from the RedBird club next door, cutting off their Champions League prospects, and severing their funding. Suddenly, he remembered the rumors about her selling her husbands, and panicked:
That lady's ruthless. Is she going to send me undercover next? Help, I still want a brilliant career, but what if she really asks me to do it? Should I agree? I guess I should, sob. It's worth it for her. Wait, I should bring it up myself. There are so many other chairwoman's-husband candidates out there. I need to get ahead of them! Opportunities don't wait around, you have to seize them! All right, I'm going to her office right now! Sell me to the club next door, ma'am. I'm ready!
After patiently listening to him ramble, the chairwoman said, "...Get out. No, go to my room."
In short, the chairwoman is ruthless and unscrupulous, and men are just a little diversion. As for her personality, I haven't decided yet. But since she's a mud-ball player, she must be a tall, white-toothed fullback with brains made of mush.
Theme: If you're broke, can you please stop playing football?
