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The Violent Suns imploded. When a sun dies and grows cold they leave behind a black hole that sucks in everything around it, including light. Brofessor felt he was living in a clumsy metaphor, not only were these dark times, but he felt cold and he knew he sucked…………..at coaching.

Already indebted to the kind of people who the chaos gods themselves are scared of upsetting, Brofessor needed a plan to repay the money he had lost on mismanaging the team, these were the kinds of people who would not only break your kneecaps but hire and Apothecary to mend you and then break them again.

Feeling kneecaps were important to him he had no choice but to go back, dented helmet in hand and ask for help.

This raised eyebrows with his criminal cohorts however they had a way he could pay off the debt. By coaching the most fragile and badly organised team ever to spill out of the farm.

A new era of soapy shenanigans had begun.

The Malice Powboys would enter the fray.

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