Perhaps more off-putting was the distinct lack of cheering,
stomping and clapping from the crowd as the home team roared from the tunnel at the start of the
match. In fact, to their dismay, the
Pink Ones were met with absolute silence as they took to the pitch. They brayed fiercely, then mournfully to the
crowd, but all eyes were on the stage...
Most of the beastmen fell to the ground and even the massive
forms of the iron-clad warriors were forced to shield their eyes as the stage suddenly
burst bright with the shattering light of a thousand dancing flames. The wailing of slaves and the unmistakable
scent of burning flesh filled the air as the Twisted Sisters leapt onto the
stage, shrieking laughter at their blazing prisoners.
The crowd jumped to their feet, almost buckling the wooden bleachers
of the Pink Pyre, the force of their cheers ringing for miles around.
The Starchild held the mic close, a crooked smile ghosting
his lips as his eyes surveyed the adoring crowd. With barely an ounce of effort, his voice
powered through the speakers by a crashing wave of audiomancy, he intoned:
‘Do. You. Love.
Us?’
The crowd cried out their affirmation, weeping adoring tears
of pure rapture. A swathe of them burst
forth onto the pitch, rushing the foot of the stage. Some were beaten back by the force of the
flames, but most were able to gladly throw themselves upon the raging
conflagration, jumping –oblivious - in excitement, reaching to touch the form
of the Starchild even as their muscles shrank and cracked.
The Starchild laughed gleefully as he dropped his trousers
and urinated on his burning fans. The
rest of the crowd cried out their joy all the loader and even the beastman
Ug-Gruff-Gaw, ‘the Darkling Heart’ brayed his approval.
The rest of the Horrors glared in silence as the ‘Darkling
Heart’ punched the air, overjoyed. When
he eventually noticed their disdain, he shrugged.
‘Their live album... really good,’ he explained and grudgingly
fell silent.
The Starchild took up the mic once more.
‘Let’s. Play. Blood Bowl!’
And with that, the Twisted Sisters stormed the pitch, the
referee blew his whistle, and the dooming of the Pink Horrors began...
Both teams lost time as fans rioted to get autographs from
the Starchild, but once the pitch was cleared, it was a cagey start to the
beastmen’s game, having received the ball but not quite daring to pick it up in
case of catastrophe. Their uncertainty
as to what this strange, round piece of inflated skin was led to the Starchild
rushing forth and scoring an early touchdown – pushing the Horrors onto the
back-hoof.
The children of the Dark Gods now had it all to do – at best
hoping to equalise before the half-time whistle. But as they became bogged down in surrounding
elves, they were forced to fall back upon their favoured tactic of hitting
problems until they were solved. Sadly
though, the audacious sacrifice of the Twisted Sisters at the outset seemed to
have secured the favour of the gods.
Each time the elves were beaten to the floor, they merely
jumped back to their feet, unscathed, much to the annoyance of Head Coach
Lysenko. In the end, the Horrors were
unable to punch their way through the Dark Elf lines and, predictably, the
Sisters scored their second touchdown at the beginning of the second half.
Hopes of a win were quickly fading for the Horrors and they
moved from a scoring stance to one of damage control, knowing that under the
circumstances, a two-nil defeat would perhaps be better than they deserved.
Typically, as the ‘Weeping Widow’ awkwardly scooped up the
ball from the pitch, he was swamped by the elves and forced to lob the ball
down the field and hope for the best.
Equally typically, Mendaitha, plucked the ball out of the air with magnificent
grace. In a bizarre twist though, the gods’
interest waned - perhaps becoming more excited by the sight of Khorne’s Killers
butchering what was left of the Slaves to Pleasure – and the Sisters were
unable to immediately capitalise on their good fortune.
What followed was a catalogue of fumbles, trips, slips,
drops and knock-outs, leaving both coaches wondering what their teams were
doing, but – inevitably – the Horrors were unable to stop the elves scoring one
last crowning touchdown.
It was then left to the Violated Virgin to restore at least
some honour to the Horrors by smashing the teeth out of Snidjer’s head and
forcing him to miss the next game.
In the end though, as the final whistle blew and the Twisted
Sisters took to the stage to sate the crowd with a medley of their greatest
hits (The Dark Gods Gave Rock and Roll to You, We Built This City on Broken
Bones and Clanrat Out of Hell...), the Horrors slipped quietly off the pitch,
only able to cling to the consolation that though the elves may have scored
lots of those touchdown thingies, the immoral victory was theirs – winning one-nil
on injuries caused.
In the dugout, Head Coach Lysenko was observed pinching and
stroking the skin on his face sadly, as though one day soon, he would miss
it...
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