Unbeaten & Unknown: The Forgotten Invincible

Greetings and salutations earthbound creatures. I, Ted, once again grace the halls of NLIR tower to bring you tale of my most recent adventure.

During the year of our Lord and Saviour, The Righteous Ted, 2014 I have travelled the galaxy and your own green planet to seek out the company of the Invincibles in the year of their tenth anniversary.

Photographic evidence has previously been presented to prove my convergence with Ray Parlour and today I bring you news of another meeting of an Invincible of the footballing kind.

Earlier this year I heard tell of a little known Invincble by the name of Rami Shaaban whom I was told could be found residing in the Akaishi Mountains on a spiritual quest for enlightenment.

My bags packed, I set out on my odyssey and headed for Japan in search of this forgotten hero. Along the way I asked a stranger if he knew the path to the sanctuary of Rami Shaaban when suddenly I was attacked by a band of Ronin calling themselves the White Clan. Dispatching of all but one with incredible ease I forced the remaining survivor to lead me to my destination.

We travelled together for 3 days and during this time I learnt a lot about this weasel. His name was Danielson Levhai and he was the most irksome creature I have ever met, obsessed with the fortunes of the Red Clan. Thankfully I was soon no longer in need of him and left him to be brutalised by a pack of lusty wolves he had offended by stepping on some strange mushrooms they were guarding in a forest some 10 miles from the mountains.

At the foot of the mountains I came to a village where I met a young girl by the name of Akemi. The attraction was instant and mutual but I had a job to do.

Akemi told of a mystical spirit in the mountains who scared the villagers at night with his demon laser eyes that shone down from the mountain and was accompanied by strange music and pained howls. The village elders said it was a fallen star who could not find peace and was waiting for a warrior to put it out of its misery. Alas, they said, no mortal man could approach the lair of the star as the ground shook with fury as you approached and those who made it over the vibrating rock met a gruesome death as the demon song melted their brains out through their ears.

I declared my intention to head to the mountain to fight this demon and assured the villagers that I was no mortal nor a man and had nothing to fear. I could see the beams of the demon laser eyes flickering down the mountain and readied myself for what would come next.

I journeyed alone at day break the next morning and started my long and arduous ascent. Heading up the mountain I heard the strange music the villagers had warned me of. As I climbed higher the music became louder and oddly familiar to me. Surely it wasn’t what I thought it was.

An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of my stomach which I foolishly mistook for hunger but soon came to realise was my hyper-aware body sensing the tremors as I crept closer to the shaking ground the villagers had spoken of.

Reaching a plateau I saw what had been described to me. Rocks bobbed around like popping corn as the ground shook violently. Across the expanse of bouncing boulders and crashing stone I saw a crude entrance which danced with light and shadow. The music was unbearable and unmistakable.

Moving across the unsteady ground as though it were as still as water I made my way into the entrance and found myself face to face with Rami Shaaban.

He was gyrating furiously to Black Lace’s ‘The Birdie Song’ as a makeshift set of disco lights made from old Lucozade bottles and Quality Street wrappers sent out beams of coloured light the villagers had mistaken for Demon eyes.

Rami was an incredible mover and his fast footwork and enthusiastic impressions of birds was causing the ground to shake. There was no demon. Just an overzealous lover of dance and crap 80s music.

Throwing a mighty paw into the sound system I broke Rami from his trance. Silence fell eerily around us. It took a few moments for Shaaban to come to his senses but when he did he collapsed to the floor screaming in agony and clutching his bloodied feet, worn almost into perfect replicas of 6″ meatball marinara subs.

Shaaban passed out through the pain and slept for 2 days. When he awoke he told me his story. He had come to the mountains in search of enlightenment and along the way he had picked some mushrooms to make the only food he would eat – Stroganoff. He guessed – correctly – that they were magic mushrooms and he had been fuelling himself on hallucinogenics causing an innate desire to dance profusely to cheesy 80s pop hits like a 9 year old on a sugar high at a school disco.

We spoke briefly about his time at Arsenal and being part of the Invincibles squad. He seemed happy to have been around that team but said he preferred to talk about his accomplishments on the underground dance scene and bringing footloose freedom to the oppressed discoers of Iran.

His list of achievements were truly impressive such as teaching the Prime Minister of Thailand how to body pop and George W. Bush how to start a conga after many weeks of trying to convince him a conga wasn’t a Mexican snack.

After nursing him back to health with the aid of good old button mushrooms I helped arrange transport to get him to Korea where he planned to spread peace and happiness through his programme called “Hey Kim, who needs nukes when you have dancing boots?”.

As a thank you he taught me the art of vocal mime and the importance of not thinking a pony tail and facial hair makes you David Seaman.

Until next time, this is me saying Ted out.

Stay cuddly.

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