The Big Time (part 1)

This post is part of the series The Big Time

It’s been a while since we last checked in on our hero, a busy time for Coach Sardonic. He received a call that his band of rogue misfits had been evaluated — and accepted — to the pestigor… no… wrong word… prestigious Mead and Mayhem League.

This was a crowning achievement for the coach, the first stepping stone on his path to having his name emblazoned in fiery gold in the annals of MML history. But the road was to be long and treacherous and filled with…

“Daffodil! Get that goblin out of your nose! If you must pick, use your finger!”

The hulking ten foot tall slab of greenish-grey meat that is Cleverly ORChestrated’s starting troll tossed an unamused glare towards Coach Sardonic, before pulling a squirming mass of choking goblin from it’s nostril. Yellowish slime hung in a ghastly strand from nose to goblin, but that didn’t deter the mammoth beast from casually popping it in it’s mouth.

“Good Nuffle! What do I have to do to keep a goblin on this team?!”, Sardonic shouted in exasperation.

The Coach turns away shaking his head, as Daffodil plunges a finger back in for more. There’s so much work to be done on so many of these players. Gorkost, the Thrower, is one of the few he can rely on to be anything more than a meat-sack to hit someone — or worse — a meat-sack for someone to hit. But even that was loaded dice — you can have a great thrower, but it doesn’t do anything for you if there is nobody to catch it.

“Hands up, Subhor! Let the ball fall right into them!”

His call caught the attention of his new recruit Blitzer, and that led to a spikey inflated squiqskin scraping across his face — after traveling directly between his outstretched hands.

More head shaking. More walking. In fact, walking right off the pitch and into his office, where he plopped down at his computer and decided to check up on his other “project”. For those who missed our last installment — Goblin Gambling pulled strings to get his band of merry orcs into the MML… but at the cost of him running (and starring on) their new dating website: FarmersOrcly.com

“42 new messages. This oughta be good.”

SlimPickensMom: “I lick trolls r u a troll i lick them a lot.”

Eye roll.

TerryBruiseWidow1111: “I saw you on the tv. Your tractor is shiny.”

Eye roll. He didn’t even want that damn tractor, but Goblin Gambling made him use his first check to buy it.

SpikeyCuddles2052: “We need to talk.”

Interesting. But not that interesting.

ObsceneGreen247: “What’s in a name? I bet you would like to find out!”

I mean… maybe?

[Sha-clackity goes the mouse key.]

If there was a word to describe her, it would be Thundenous. No, wait. Thunderous. She was the sort of Black Orc that didn’t let the tight bindings of leather hold back her glorious… Perhaps it’s best not to say. We’ll just say that somehow this picture was able to encapsulate whatever the sound of leather stretching would be. No, more like if a leather belt were made into a sentient being, and then placed in a ‘rack’ style torture machine and pulled apart in a slow, grinding death… the sound IT would make.

And she didn’t have a tractor in any of her pictures.

[Beep. Another message cuts in.]

SpikeyCuddles2052: “For real. We need to talk. Now.”

Sardonic is interrupted as Grozig, Cleverly ORChestrated’s most decorated Blitzer pops his head in the doorway.

“You wanted to talk to me about the game, Coach?!”

(To be continued…)

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