Mr. Plum always wanted to own a Blood Bowl team. He never expected to be playing in it too, but that was a perk of being dead, you never really aged. Sure, the odd arm might fall off, but nothing some duct tape couldn’t fix.
When a local league, ‘The MML Reborn’ had opened applications for new teams, he had snapped up the chance. He had bought a vexation of zombies from a local necromancer, they were a shabby bunch, but they would help him get his team off the ground for the first season. The rest of his roster naturally was filled with friends and family. Mrs. Plum, his wife, who was equally as dead as him, but packed a mean punch when she needed too. Their pet Werewolf, Big Woof Woof. Mr. Plum’s two long standing bodyguards Smash ‘Em and Stop ‘Em. And lastly the estate’s friendly groundskeeper Otto, who although 1,500 years old had a surprising spring in his step when he was holding a ball.
He had commissioned a stadium to be built in the expansive grounds of Chateau Plum, which although not as grand as some of those he’d heard about in the Pro Leagues, he was pretty proud of. Training had been…tough. The zombies had a habit of just shambling around, they really didn’t understand the rules. They would however happily punch anyone that stood in their way. He just had to ensure this was generally the opposing team. Big Woof Woof loved to play fetch with the ball, and some craftily placed snacks in the end zone ensure he took it in the right direction. There was one particularly awkward instance with him mistaking a detached zombie head for the ball, but the taste appeared to put him off from it happening again.
After a couple of months of continued drills, the team was getting into shape. The first match was fast approaching. What would happen? Would all of Mr. Plum’s limbs stay attached? Would Big Woof Woof run the right direction? Would the zombies remember what to do?