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Whither now Emperor Mourinho?

This season's Premiership title is already his, he commands the utmost respect from his players, is devilishly handsome and utterly ruthless, but what next for Portuguese peasant donkey-herder turned self-styled sporting Emperor, Jose Mourinho? With a monthly talk show in his home country and his modest demeanour at press conferences, media luvvies are creaming their cracks to be the first to bring news of his next foray.

With the earth's abundant pleasures and rewards his for the asking, many are now wondering what challenge will provide the necessary stern test Mourinho craves. Champions League glory was beckoning this year, cruelly stamped out by probation authority turned football club, Liverpool FC. Sensationally, The Rockall Times can exclusively reveal that Mourinho is to tackle his toughest role yet — as the BBC's newest incarnation of Doctor Who.

Mourinho's emissaries are understood to be in advanced discussions with the corporation, with a view to installing their man as the next Time Lord, battling evil forces across the space and time continuum. The BBC were due to replace present Doctor Christopher Ecclestone with older sibling and F1 pygmy Bernie Ecclestone and are understood to have been initially lukewarm to the idea of Jose, but have since embraced it enthusiastically after unexplained accidents befell several family members of the BBC's Board of Governors.

Several key factors have swung the decision in the Chelsea icon's favour. His knowing arrogance, which has been a feature of his tenure at Stamford Bridge, will translate perfectly into the role, this infuriating trait being exhibited by every incarnation of the Doctor since the series began. Quirky wardrobe will also be considered, and Mourinho's dogged insistence that he wear a distinctive ragged mohair overcoat on the touchline will continue into television, although it will be dry cleaned to rid it of the odour of old tramp's crotch.

Fans of the bizarre cult, and those unlucky enough to have seen it, will be aware that certain elements are constant between the different Doctors. There is of course the perennial assistant, usually a bubbly but vacant teenage girl with permanently erect nipples and a thin T-shirt. This tradition is set to continue, and the search is on for the next assistant.

Several candidates are currently being considered although rumours abound that incumbent Billie Piper may yet keep her job, producers citing her real-life role as the middle-aged man's village bike as proof that she could work with Jose. Informed pundits insist however, that managerial beetroot Sir Alex Ferguson will be drafted as assistant, reprising his season-long stint as second fiddle to Mourinho.

Despite promising to be a ratings winner, a dark cloud is looming concerning discord on the set. Mourinho's demands are putting the production team under great stress, and the usual plush trailer accommodation has been refused by a screaming Mourinho as being "fuc*king shit", and has been replaced with a traditionally-constructed Roman Villa complete with mosaic depictions of his triumphs over the Mancunii, Arsenii and Scousorix tribes and hypercaust underfloor heating fuelled entirely by the heat generated by a raging, title-less Alexus Maximus Fergusonius.

We caught up with the newly re-crowned Emperor Mourinho at his residence during a break in shooting, and were ushered grovelling into his exalted presence. He was languishing on his chaise-longue, clearly exhausted after his latest Bacchanalian orgy, and his toga was strategically parted to enable kneeling football hobbit Joe Cole to administer enthusiastic and skilful fellatio.

He dismissed any rumours that his demands were unreasonable screaming, "What the fuc*k!? Nobody questions me, nobody I tell you. I'll have their balls fed to the reserve team for this."

Controversy continues to dog his every move however, after rumours surfaced of an alleged tapping-up incident involving Mourinho and Doctor Who arch enemy, The Master. Clandestine meetings have been taking place on various occasions in May 2005, 1493 B.C., 1925 and 1666.

Previously

• Emperor Mourinho threatens fabric of time and space
• No-one loves me, cries Emperor Mourinho
• Chelsea's Mourinho lays down the law

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