Gerald Fester quietly looked over his men lined up waiting to enter the mine.”Times sure have changed” he thought, or rather “time has changed the men”. Gerald Fester, an old, bent and grey Underworld goblin had taken to the poison early, it made him grow big, strong and fat. Outliving all his relatives and coworkers he has now been Foreman of the Underworld Bio-Nuclear Mine for three generations. His people originally struggled in the mine, falling sick all the time, spontaneous death and no strength or energy to produce any notable quantities of valuable uranium-101. In order to be noticed and rewarded by corporate with the yearly bonus, each month you had to be top producer.
Three generations later the poison that was killing them was now making them stronger. Fester’s mine had been top producer each month for three years in a row, numbers were setting records, but corporate refused to acknowledge Fester’s village. The yearly bonus of fine cheese, pogo sticks and funds for the village and mine would always go to Rattus Norvegicus, he was the spoiled nephew of CEO of DUKE Nukems, the owners of the mine.
This year was different, this year part of the prize was a trip to MML Blood Bowl Season XIV to watch a game in the VIP box and meet the beautiful daughter of the CEO Rodentia Norvegicus, (rumor has it she was looking to mass breed and had just undergone flea treatment!)
Fester looked over his team with pride, he watch the twin brothers, both with exceptional speed, even for rats, racing the mine making the hard labor task seem effortless. He knew these two brothers were meant for more, he also knew they kept magazines with photos of Rodentia hidden in their sleeping straw.
Fester sipped his morning gravy, while reading the monthly company newsletter. Weak and thin, tasteless broth, not one chunk of fat, he cursed and wished his mine had the funds to buy the good stuff.
“There it is again, sick travesty it is” he thought with disgust. Rattus Norvegicus’ mine won again for a perfect safety record (which was easy when no one was working) They never posted his numbers, the nepotism was sickening. The brothers would be crushed, they had been killing themselves thinking if they set a high enough record the CEO would HAVE to notice. Fester grabbed the next envelope in his morning stack, it was from the MML commissioner, as a joke he had sent a roster and video of his team to enter Season XIV. His old heart began to beat noticeably, in fact he hadn’t felt a flutter in years. He opened the envelope, there it was ! His team had been accepted ! He let out a yell, then a grimace, then a scream. His old heart had given out, he fell from his chair spilling his sad excuse for morning gravy. his outstretched hand clutching the letter. The two brothers had heard his scream and flown to his side with their usual unbelievable speed, they were too late, Fester was dead. The brothers eyes slowly and simultaneously viewed the letter from the commissioner, yellow grins spread across their fuzzy faces.