Now that most of the good citizens of the Old World have been immunised against the Nurgle's Rot, and most of the quarrentine measures have been removed we are able to go out and about feeling thankful for some of the smaller things in life which we may have taken for granted until we lost them in lockdown. The song of the blackbird, the glimpses of rabbits in the fields and squirrels throwing a football around in the treetops bring back happy memories of hang on.... squirrels throwing footballs? That isn't right is it? Did they do that pre Nurgle? It's been so long I can't remember, still seems a bit odd doesn't it? Anyway the meadows are in their final autumnal bloom as the bees noisily drone from flower to flower to burned out cart? Outside a cave? Surrounded by nettles and thistles? Most unusual. We stop to view this "garden" and can pick out a few more details, such as the rusty cauldron in a patch of dead grass underneath the giant oak tree or the poorly made sign near the road which says 'Beware of Nigel'. Something is definately familiar about this place. Our reveree is disturbed by the arrival of a man on horseback who reins his horse in to a stop next to the sign. He dismounts and goes to his saddlebag from which he removes a large rectangular object wrapped in brown paper and tied with string. He quickly checks the adress on the parcel and then, after a disapproving look, he begins to pick his way through the jungle of weeds towards the cave and what appears to be a wooden door at the entrance. Sudden movement to our right catches our attention but when we turn around to look there is nothing there. Wait a minute, what's that? A line of grass is being folded over as if some large creature is stealthily moving through the garden, and from the look of it is heading towards the unfortunate courier. The courier steps around a broken deck chair as the mysterious stalker gets within striking range and then POW! A red football jumps up at the courier and seems to bite him on the arm, causing the poor fellow to roar in pain as the red ball appears to have two large rear legs and a huge mouth full of teeth. The courier bellows as he tries to knock the creature off his arm but the red menace seems determined to hang on for dear life. Just as we start forward to help the poor fellow the cave door explodes in a shower of wood before a little green fellow emerges coughing from the smoke.

"Nelly!" he shouts, "Nelson, put im down! I ent gunna tell yew agen, now drop im!" The creature looks at the green creature with it's big eyes, glances back at the courier and then back again at the goblin, as if trying to make it's mind up. Then suddenly it opens it's jaws, drops to the floor and scuttles back into hiding in the undergrowth, all as quick as a flash.

"Sorry bowt dat mush, she iz new an ent fully trained yet" said the goblin to the courier.

"That thing needs to be on a bloody leash" snapped the courier who was inspecting his arm for damage. "Here" he said holding out the package "are you Mr Great Gobbo?" We freeze as a terrible realisation takes hold. As long as we don't make eye contact we can turn around and leave.

"Hey yew" shouts the Great Gobbo. We look up sheepishly. "It iz yew! I fort it woz! Kum in, kum in, I expect yew iz ear to do me life story or summat eh? Rite a book yeah? Well doan't just stand der lookin like wun o dem wooly aminals an kum on in"

"A sheep?" We say as we try and work out what he is trying to say.

"No, a arse"

"But arses aren't wooly" says the courier, now fascinated by the conversation going on around him.

"Mine iz so dere" says the Great Gobbo.

"no. you mean hairy" says the courier, "you can have a hairy arse but not a wooly one."

"Can tew" snaps the Great Gobbo, "Me Gran made it fer me."

"Wait a minute" we interject, "Are you telling me your granny made you a wooly arse? An arse made out of wool, knitted by your granny? A knitted woolen arse?"

"Yep" said the Great Gobbo proudly

"Bollocks" said the courier dismissively

"Nah me sis ad der wooly bollox, I ad der arse."

"Did your granny knit anything other than body parts?" We enquire.

"Well wunce she nitted me a costume of a likkle blew burd, but I nevva wore it coz I fort it made me look like a tit!" He looked at us grinning, seemingly waiting for some kind of reaction, but when none was forthcoming it dropped into a picture of misery. "Jus gizza me package an bugga off" he said wearily.

The courier handed him the package and then left, all the while surveying the ground looking for tell tale signs of the red creature that had attacked him previously. Unfortunately because he was concentrating on the ground so hard he failed to see the football which came sailing out of the top of a nearby tree and smacked him squarely on the head, knocking him over.

"Dey iz gettin gud" said the Great Gobbo nodding towards the tree where an excited chattering noise could be heard "If I cud get em ter stop burying der ball all der time I wud pik em fer der Tide."

By now the courier had gotten to his feet and looking dazed got onto his horse and exited very quickly.

"So what's in the package?" we ask as we both start walking towards the smouldering remains of the former front door.

"Dere iz a kard ere, yew reed it an tell me wot it sez."

"Dear Coach, please find enclosed the new and official rulebook for the game of football. As of now these will be the rules used in every sanctioned game so please make an effort to read each and every one of the three thousand and fourty seven changes that will come into effect next season. Happy coaching, Comissioner Christer." I handed the note back to Gobbo, "Looks like you've got some reading ahead of you old chum."

"I ent gunna reed all dis load o bollox!, I'll jus do wot we normally do an jus cheet only dis time i won't be meenin ter cheet so it won't be cheetin will it? I mean if yew end up cheetin cos yew cud not be arsed ter reed der rules den it ent cheetin iz it? So if I woz ter accidentally blow up der opposishun dug owt wiv sum igh explosives it wouldn't be cheetin cos az far az i no it's legal an in der rulez rite?"

"I don't think it quite works like that."

"Well ow abowt yew reed it for me an den just tell me oo der murderer iz at der end, okay?"

"It's not going to be that kind of book, there won't be a murderer revealed at the end."

"Dere zoggin will be koz once I getz me big brain rownd der new rulez I iz gunna be findin loadsa wayz ter kill all der ovva teems."

"So if this were a game of Cluedo the answer would be the Great Gobbo, on the Blood Bowl pitch with Der Green Tide."

"Yeah only we wud all be in our pants coz I only play der strippin version of eech game."

"How do you play strip Cluedo?" we ask stepping over the wreckage of the door into the cave.

"Kum into der livin room an i will show ya" replied the Great Gobbo with a wink.

TO BE CONTINUED?