The Sun is out at Six Feet Mine, and
Gerald is enjoying the warmth clad only in an oversized woman’s pink floral pattern swimsuit and a straw boater. He reclines on a sagging sun lounger, a mug of recently decanted psychedelic ‘Shroom in Shite Juice’ pincered in his beclawed hand.
“Here’s to game 150, my wonderful friends – may the
Underdogs play many more” He raises the toast to the assembled top players of the team.
“Eeer Eeer” squeak both the conjoined
Ba’rat brothers in unison, the team’s most senior rodents.
“BRAINS” moans
Xar’anx the zombie-esk skaven blitzer formed from an unsuspecting recruit, fragments of the dead and decaying corpse of legendary Underdog player
Ber’anx and an unhealthy dose of warpstone glue.
“Yay” mutters
Green-Goo, chief goblin, who, huddled under his black team hoodie, is looking distinctly unhappy to be exposed to the sunlight and casts repeated and longing glances back into the cool, dark and dank recesses of the mine shaft.
Also raising a glass
La’ra restrains the team mascot, Lem the rotter dog, from licking the diminutive
Spiriu-nostee, who Lem has recently taken to mothering as if the smallest member of the team were some sort of deformed puppy, carrying the stunted goblin about by the scruff of the neck.
“It is on this occasion we think of all those brave soles who gave their lives in the name of entertainment, for illegal match fixing and for my continued warpstone research. Their death and disfigurements were all in a good cause as we progress slowly towards a less humiliating win ratio.”
“Eeet’s geeetin’ ‘arder now weeer startin’ to rack up th’ Teeem Value innit’ exclaims one of the Ba’rat heads.
“Indeed it is my finely freakish rodent. At higher TVs it seems all the teams are rather bashy with a lot of goblin killers – it is getting increasingly hard to maintain a full team on the pitch for all the losses we are suffering. But I am determined to push on with the growth of our team… we will one day become one of the greatest and most powerful Underworld teams the land has ever seen!”
“BRAINS!” adds Xar’anx, responding to the excitement in Gerald’s voice.
“But don’t ya think we should focus on winnin’ more games boss?” asks Green-Goo
“Quite so, dear goblin, quite so, the aim for the next 50 games is simple, by the end I want us to have, in total, not lost at least as many games as we have lost – as it stands we have lost 79 games of our 150 matches so provided we lose no more than 21 games in the next sequence we will achieve this target. I expect you all to make this happen or at least die entertainingly in the attempt. Now whose turn is it to rub lotion into my crevices?”
With that announcement the team meeting quickly breaks up as the player’s scuttle away to avoid the loathsome task of oiling up their captain’s corpulent body.
My continued gratitude to the opposition coaches who have made playing the U-dogs a thoroughly fun and silly experience, through jokes, laughter and not whining too much when I roll silly dice to succeed on a silly play that only a desperate U-world coach would ever consider. I especially extend my gratitude to those who have pruned away the lame, TV bloating and unlucky on my team and my commiserations to those who have lost valuable and much loved pixels to the more psychotic of my players.