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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