Cheyenne - Saints Round 13

Cheyenne has just walked into the Moorabin Town Hall to seek asylum from the US as a political asylum seeker. First - the background. Last February, No 1 draft pick Jonathon Patton was sent to Sweden for major knee surgery. At least that’s what the football public were told. In fact, Big Jon, who is a close relative of former US General George Patton, was being infiltrated by the US military into the Swedish Health System, where one of the women bringing the denied sexual assault claims against Julian Assange now works. Inside his suspect knee, Patton was carrying the bribe - in the form of a $2,000,000 diamond, to give to the woman. Because no sane person would suspect that a teenage Aussie Rules player would be smuggling contraband in the form of diamonds into the Swedish territory, he was whisked through customs without so much as a “How long do you intend to stay in Sweden?”

How did Cheyenne come upon this information? It so happens that last February Cheyenne was in that very Swedish hospital, researching ways to protect our Sainter braves against future hamstring and other soft tissue injuries, when, sneaking into the medicinal room next to Big Jon’s, hoping to come across a stray packet of Panadeine Forte to help with a headache (i.e. The Pain of LIfe), Cheyenne heard the doctor from the US Embassy removing the diamond from Patton’s knee. As I was slipping the Fortes into my pouch, I bumped the Waste Bandages bin, and fell onto the Patton bed.

I told the US Army men that I was looking for a toilet because I needed a Wikileak, but they were all over me, asking: “Do you know Julian Assange?” Cheyenne: “Who does he play for - the Eagles?”

In the end they let me go, but I’ve been followed by US agents all year - you can see them sitting behind me at Etihad Stadium asking everybody when the players are going to put their helmets on, and will Meatloaf be playing at half time?

So here I am, seeking asylum in the one place I can call home - Moorabin Town Hall, where the remnants of the Animal Enclosure that I used to live in are on show.

I can hear the Yanks banging on the door - where’s Bobby Muir when you need him? SAVE ME!

Cheyenne Autumn