The happily-married footballer, who tried to keep a secret by publicly announcing to everybody that he had a secret, is now believed to be considering suing the entire nation for ‘grossly intrusive gossiping’.
The original super-injunction – that has garnered a hundred times more publicity for his philandering than a single front-page splash in the News of the World ever could – has not been as successful as the player had hoped and recent indications are that he has now become desperate and instructed his lawyers to sue the social networking site Twitter, presumably for being a social networking site.
The Cutter understands however that the fuming star is determined to go one better and ultimately send every member of the public to prison for the heinous crime of knowing about his wrongdoing and mentioning it casually in passing to a friend over a packet of Hobnobs.
Respected criminal lawyer Rhodri Brotherton, who has no direct relation to this case, told us that he believed the player has been ill-advised.
‘The guy in question really hasn’t thought this through properly. There is simply no precedent for this and I cannot imagine how it will be suitably enforced. We’re struggling with over-crowded prisons in this country as it is. A further sixty million inmates may well stretch resources to breaking point.’
Already there have been reports of miscarriages of justice being carried out by over-zealous police officers who support a certain football club. Barry Thresher, a soft rock music fan, was chatting to his younger brother in the kitchen of his family home in rural Kent. After innocently informing his sibling about how the conservationally-minded singer Bryan Adams was hosting a series of charity concerts where a caged spotted wild cat was kept on the stage throughout he heard a helicopter whirring overhead followed by a loudspeaker instructing him to ‘Come on out, and keep your big mouth shut’.
Following three days in a grotty cell he was remanded on bail and is now awaiting trial.
A clearly aggrieved Barry told us, ‘All I said was there was a cheetah at some of Bryan’s gigs….’
Should the footballer’s bid to completely control information be successful not only would it echo the portentous warnings of Orwell in his book 1984 but the repercussions could be frightening for all. During our research for this story we met a gentleman named David Cummings of Essex who informed us ominously, ‘I shit my pants last week on the way back from a heavy drinking session. I’ve heard that the lads down the pub were having a good laugh about. They’re going down for life. I’ll make sure of it.’