Forum Sevens: THE SAUSAGE

DISCLAIMER: All or some or none of the “facts” within this testimony may or may not be based upon discredited or questionable statements or documentation provided by the author or “contacts” whose credibility may or may not be trusted or whom may or may not even exist. Additionally, the author may or may not be bullsh.tting at any given time or all the time or not at all at his discretion or ignorance.

For those of us involved in the Sausage Conspiracy, the Salary Cap Scandal was not exactly unexpected, especially considering we were responsible for “The Leak” to The SMH. But just like a Shakespearian tragedy, the treachery we unleashed would eventually return to haunt us and lead destiny down a completely different path than anticipated.

My name is Zef Meister -Rebel, Sausage Conspirator and convert to the Turnip Agenda.

This is my story.

The Sausage Conspiracy was a simple plan really: Phase One was the leaking of “that document” to destabilise and discredit our enemies (The Liverpool Syndicate) within the Dogs boardroom. Phase Two would see the boardroom execution of The Syndicate and the installation of Sausage as Chairman in a puppet capacity. Phase Three would then follow - The invasion, occupation and annexation of the NSW Central Coast by the liberated Bulldogs RLFC.

Specifically targeted were North-Power Stadium, Central Coast Leagues Club (“Oasis II”), and a few thousand Junior League players (give or take). We even had sponsorship lined up with State Rail to promote the Millennium Train as the preferred mode of transport for our more “Sydney-centric” supporters.

Of course we expected our treachery could result in the expulsion of the Dogs from Season 2002 and had long prepared ourselves mentally for a sacrificed Premiership. But considering the intentions of The Liverpool Syndicate controlled boardroom, we considered this a small price to pay. So you could imagine our satisfaction as we watched the Syndicate fall as the scandal unfolded - The Hamburglar, ‘Orrible, Lionel, - all gooorrrnnne, all good.

But things soon turned foul for The Conspiracy. As the Salary Cap investigation widened, it soon became apparent that somehow Sausage had got himself implicated….And I mean really, really implicated.

My worst fears were confirmed by a panicked phone call received from Elvis - my contact from deep within the Bulldogs bunker. With five simple words Elvis shattered the conspiracy forever: “You idiot, you fried Sausage.”

Things then really turned ugly. My fellow conspirators and I found ourselves under investigation and were questioned by the “authorities” on a daily basis. I had to make some harsh decisions quickly, and so did the only thing I could do to keep some corner of The Conspiracy alive. I denied everything and ever knowing anybody, especially Elvis (last I heard he was looking at about five to ten).

By the time investigations were complete, eleven out of twelve conspirators were charged over a plethora of offences both related and unrelated to The Conspiracy and the SCS. I was the lucky one after cooperating with the authorities over some minor legal matters and names.

So anyway, I got on with life and soon forgot about Sausage and the stupid conspiracy. But then I received a mysterious phone call in the middle of the night that would change my life forever. A croaky voice whispered - “We know what you tried to do. And we want you to try again. Meet me at .”

My curiosity got the better of me, I took the bait.

His name was Pierre and he didn't talk much, just smoked. He showed me an old footy-card and croaked “Do you know this man?”

Stunned (and as a Dog supporter - insulted), I replied “Of course!”

“He wants to meet you, expect a phone call in a few days. He'll be calling himself Turnip…. Smoke?”

At this stage, I can not reveal the identity of the legend that was on that footy card. All I can even hint at is that he is very, VERY high up the ladder of the new Bulldogs administration. (And so he should be - what a legend!)

A few days later as promised, I received a phone call from the legendary Turnip himself. He invited me to meet him in his office for a quiet chat over scones, some nice Devonshire Tea, and a game of Shuffle-Board or two.

At the turn of the second end, Turnip got down to business…..


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