u/Slimby2000

Good Lord it's the UK skipper himself Harold Kane!

As with most footballers, Harry has a deep, dark secret - that he never actually wanted to be a footballer! Instead, the striker ba-yearns for the life of a 1970s light entertainer!

As soon as England duties are done, Hazpops hops aboard the PJ to tour the Piers of Northwest England, telling cheekily off-colour jokes about the Irish whilst wearing a frilly polyester shirt and sweating profusely. Unfortunately, the summer world cup this year has meant his planned residency on Blackpool's North Pier has been curtailed and seized ruthlessly by Joe Pascquale and whichever Grumbleweeds still draw breath, leaving him only a tiny hour-long slot to spout tired bollocks about Mothers-in-Law.

Harry doesn't fret about this and whilst the sparse crowd is expertly warmed up by the superstar tag team of Tommy Cannon and Phil Cool, he pops to the nice new Sainsbury's by Blackpool North to pick up his meal deal.

The 70's light entertainer's diet rivals those of long distance runners in terms of calories, and Kane must choose his options carefully to maintain both tit girth and likelihood of cardiac arrest. The miniature-faced goal machine chooses a Beef and Horseradish sandwich for his main, careful to pick out and lob the distressingly modern Rocket garnish into the road. For his snack, he breezes past the more continental options of olives and fruit and greedily gets his mitts on the giant Jammy Dodger. For his drink it has to be the classic 500ml of full fat Irn-Bru, recommended to him as a soothing tonic after a particularly wild night with the Krankies.

This concoction ensures that when back at his boarding house on Central Drive later that night, he will block the hatchet-faced proprietor's bog with the densest leavings yet recorded by science.

Shake it off! And by 'it', I mean the feeling of not knowing what teen songstress Taylor Swift has for her meal deal!

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Taylor is one of the most successful musicians of all time, making even the likes of Sir Paul McCartney look like some sort of feckless vagrant. But Taylor has a secret - to pay for her upcoming nuptials, she has been working as a Scaffolder between tours!

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Her day begins at 5, where she gets picked up in a battered transit by a shirtless man smoking a rollie and then it's off on a job. T-Swiz grafts for a good few hours, swearing like a docker and urinating freely off the top level of the scaffolding. When Dinnertime rolls around she hops in the private jet to the local Tesco Express for her snap - having to clear old copies of the Sport and Ginsters wrappers off the seat in the process.

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After a 32-second, carbon-intensive journey, she lands in the forecourt with her tummy rumbling. The flaxen haired billionaire then selects the traditional lunch deal of the scaffolding trade, as ancient as the trade itself - a tube of pringles, a white monster energy drink, and an apple flavoured vape. The pringles are Texas BBQ flavoured, a nod to her country roots and famous intolerance of spice. The monster energy drink is the only thing keeping her going after late nights in the studio recording her hit songs, and the apple vape is a concession to her betrothed Travis Kelce, to whom she promised she would attempt to consume more fruit.

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These selections are a time honoured combination that not only ensure the necessary energy for lugging pipe up houses but also allows the Bad Blood warbler a cheeky hour long break later in the afternoon to pass the carby mess in the on-site portaloo.

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She devours this concoction messily, whilst listening to the tail end of Alan Brazil on Talksport and nodding sagely, and putting her feet up on the filthy cockpit dashboard. Her meal deal completed, she tosses the remnants into the passenger seat footwell and roars back to site for another gruelling half an hour of work. At the end of the job, the cheeky Nashville-Based singing enthusiast makes vague promises to the client to pick up the scaffolding the following day, knowing full well it will be still be there for several months.

Chill out! It's Cole 'Cold' Palmer!

With a lucrative Loyd Grossman Curry Sauce contract incoming and an entire summer unexpectedly free, the peasant-haired youngster has made it his mission this summer to finally increase his tolerance to spice. Gone are the jam sandwiches his mother gently hand feeds him and in come the kormas, keema naans and tentative bites of samosas!

When the lunch bell rings in his native Wythenshawe, Cole shoots off to the Gatley Road Co-Op food to pick up one of his 'improving' meal deals. The main is a Tuk In Kashmiri chicken naan, with a lovely cut out window of a tuk-tuk showing the flavourful bounty within. A stickler for sports nutrition, Cole forgoes the oreos grab bag on offer with titanic effort and instead opts for a packet of Sweet Chili Chicken Bites. Finally, the selection is to be washed down with a lovely 500ml bottle of Mango Lassi - an amount sure to make even the rainiest south Manchester estates seem like the gardens of Rishikesh.

Sadly, once tasted, the flavours seem even more complex to Cole than Chelsea's team selection and he is forced to bin the lot. Fortunately, Ma Palmer is on hand to provide a full pint of vimto, some eggy bread, and a lovely kiss on the forehead as a substitute.

Yee-Haw! The sheriff is back in town! Or should I say City, as Chester's favourite son Michael Owen is hungry and eager to throw on the afterburners for his dinner.

Back in the tremendous days of 2001, young Mowen won the Ballon D'Or for his silky skills at Liverpool, but it was a chance encounter at the post-gong buffet table that truly changed his life. For this was the first time he clapped his eyes upon the sandwich platter - a far cry from the singular margarine sandwiches his mum brought him on command well into his thirties. He vowed there and then to have the majority of his meals in platter form.

With this in mind, he saddles up his horse Edmonds and moseys up the A-Roads to posh northern powerhouse Booths, his three quarter zip on his Peacocks 100% acrylic jumper jauntily undone.

Once there, he hitches Edmonds onto a disability scooter and chooses the Meat Sandwich platter, containing a dizzying spread of Ham & Cheese, Roast Chicken Salad and Chicken & Bacon Club sandwiches.  Although a large choice, Michael freezes any excess so as to last the following week and slips Edmonds the greenery from each butty on the way back.

Michael's snack choice of a scotch egg is twofold in its meaning, representing the highs and lows of his life. The spherical shape reminds him of the ball belting the back of the onion bag when he scored his one goal for Stoke (high) and the time he lost control of his Zorbing ball whilst hurtling down a Dubai Dune, injuring several business partners and scuppering a sweet property/helicopter deal (low).

Finally, he gets a big bottle of Evian, the red-blooded minor Galactico winking at the girls on the counter and commenting that it's "the original sports drink".

With his day successfully filled, he rides Edmonds into the sunset thinking about the evening's bets on Bulgarian Steeplechases and whether to make Avatar the ninth film he's ever watched.

Matthew Le Tissier is one of Britain's foremost experts in things, and his meal deal choice is one of taste and elegance.

Taking a break from fruitlessly arguing with AI chat bots about the true motives of the World Economic Forum, Le Tiss favours the One Stop down the road for his meal deal, despite the title sounding eerily similar to his much-feared One World Government.

The Southampton-based Research enthusiast scans the selection of sandwiches on offer for any trace of GMOs or chemtrails that might change his brain juices and turn him woke,and after a solid hour of contemplation chooses a Rustlers Southern Fried Chicken length, their slogan of 'better than you think' appealing to his distrustful attitude towards modern life.

A big sack of KP nuts is selected as the snack as MLT saw a video on facebook where a red-faced shirtless man said that they increase testosterone massively, and the drink is a litre bottle of flavoured Volvic that he incorrectly yet insistently refers to as a pint - echoing his disdain for European modes of measurement.

Paying exclusively in cash so the government can't monitor his whereabouts, and with his face smeared in lemon juice so the CCTV can't scan his thoughts, the England Eight-Timer then heads back online to share an AI masterpiece of Keir Starmer as the grim reaper holding a digital ID card- generating an impressive 14 likes.

Listen up! It is Jordan Pickford!

The ever-popular England and Everton goal obstacle is known for his high pressure style of lobbing his body in front of speeding orbs and he needs to maintain a huge blood pressure to match.

J-Pix however is famously brand-loyal, and when the lunchbell rings toddles as quick as his legs can carry him to the nearest Aldi (despite passing a Morrisons and a Greg's on the way). Whilst there he gorges, the lovely low prices of the shop offsetting the lack of traditional meal deal discount.

And what a dinner it is! Jordz has an All Day Breakfast sandwich triple for his main, its lack of discernable colour making it easy to digest and pass at a later date. He loves a full family bar of luxury Moser Roth chocolate as he is steadfast in his belief that it's the real name of the Lindt advert Baker moonlighting for the budget supermarkets after a challenging gas bill.

Finally, he washes this concoction down with a full two litres of Professor Peppy, again in the belief that someone of an academic bent could not make an unhealthy drink. Sadly this does mean that he spends the walk home desperate to empty his distended bladder and frequently has to nip into a ginnel where he relieves himself over a flytipped duvet.