In a room on the twentieth floor of the hotel, Twain and Allan looked at each other. There was no one in the room except them. They could talk in private. Allan Adams did not look for Tony Twain to talk about old times, but to discuss business. There was almost no possibility of them discussing any private matters.
"Are you telling the truth?" Twain was doubtful.
"You know I never kid, Tony." Allan shook his head, serious. He did not look like he was joking.
Twain raised his eyebrows. He had never heard of such a thing, but the truth was in front of him.
Allan told Twain that the Chinese Football Association wanted to re-establish its image with the game, due to the recent football environment in China. When Twain heard, he almost blurted out, "they have an image?" He did not take Allan's words seriously. Everything about the Chinese Football Association was a joke. There was slapstick style, black humor, and, of course, corny jokes.
