Saturday, 4 August 2012

The Pink Horrors 1 - 1 The Slaves to Pleasure

The crowds brayed in ferocious anticipation, the very walls of the stadium throbbing and swelling as the home team, the Slaves to Pleasure, took to the field.  As always, the daughters of Slaanesh had promised a spectacular display, predicting debauchery and death in equal measure.

The Pink Horrors could but stare in wonder as the lithe, fey, grotesquely beautiful daemonettes whimpered and moaned their way pleasurably down the pitch towards them.

The referee’s hand trembled as he drew the whistle from his pocket and a sweat broke on his reddening brow.

It took three attempts before he could find his mouth with the whistle, but when he finally managed to sound the start of the match, the Slaves launched the ball down the field and... nothing happened.

The Horrors could only grin longingly as they watched their opponents writhing around on the pitch, all thoughts of Blood Bowl forgotten.  Some of them began to applaud.

‘WHAT ARE YOU DOING???’ screamed the Blushing Doxy.  A disciple of the Prince of Pleasure herself, she was immune to the spell woven by her Slaaneshi sisters.  ‘GET THE BAAAAAAALL!’

‘But my billy-plums are tingling,’ moaned the beastman,  Broken Oath.

The Blushing Doxy broke the hex with a swiftly-delivered iron-clad boot between the hind legs of the man-goat.  He dropped to the floor, but his keening howl certainly gained the attention of the rest of the team.

‘Now GET THE BALL!’ screamed the Doxy.

‘Billy-plums sad...’ he groaned.

The rest of the team leapt for the ball, huddling around it, the beastman carrying it becoming lost in the protective scrum, and that’s where it stayed for the majority of the half as the Horrors fought off the attacks of the Slaves, but little daring to advance themselves.

In the end, this tactic led to a mad scramble for the endzone in the dying seconds of the first half.  Thankfully for the Horrors, their caution paid off, scoring just as the half-time whistle blew.  To the anger of the crowd though, this half had been sadly bereft of any serious injuries.

The second half was as tense as the first.  The Horrors needed to fiercely defend their lead against the Slaves’ attack and several lucky knock-outs certainly helped them.  In a huge stroke of luck for the Pink Ones, the Drowned Lover managed to counter a block from Escalvo, taking her out of the game and – potentially – cutting short her career.

After a scrappy defence, the Horrors managed to capitalise when Skavle of the Slaves tried to make a break for the endzone – the Betrayed Bride knocked him to the floor and sent the ball scattering.

The rest of the Horrors were quick to huddle around the ball, making it almost impossible for the Slaves to equalize.  However, in a fit of madness and glory-lust, the Broken Oath leapt into the scrum of man-goats and attempted to pick up the ball, much to his team-mates’ dismay.  He fumbled the pick-up and the ball bounded to the feet of Esclave, who danced around the scrambling Horrors to score a welcome equalizer.

With precious minutes left in the game, the Horrors were forced to try and emulate the strange and mysterious ways of the accursed elves.  The Betrayed Bride picked up the kicked ball as it bounced across the pitch and, waving his arm while at the same time letting go of the air-filled bladder, managed to launch it down the field.

This was an entirely unexpected turn of events as far as the rest of the team were concerned and they were content to watch it land and tumble across the grass as they continued to pummel their opponents.

When the final whistle blew, the crowd were left longing for the orgy of death that they had been promised, while Coach Lysenko was left kicking himself for the simple error that had lost his team the advantage and the win...

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