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  1. #201
    Secondary Hivemind Nexus mrpier's Avatar
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    This is pretty sweet.

  2. #202
    Lesser Hivemind Node cyberpunkdreams's Avatar
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    Awesome. You just need to stick a Santa hat on top of the charts ;).

    I really liked Alini's deathroiller too.

  3. #203
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    Ouch i've lost 50% of my games

  4. #204
    Secondary Hivemind Nexus Screwie's Avatar
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    Haha well I've only won 1/3 matches... I could claim its down to my long run as a goblin coach but somehow I don't think that's the case!

  5. #205
    Lesser Hivemind Node NieA7's Avatar
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    I sure don't remember winning more than I've lost but apparently that's a thing. I really should stop complaining.

  6. #206
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    Quote Originally Posted by Screwie View Post
    Haha well I've only won 1/3 matches... I could claim its down to my long run as a goblin coach but somehow I don't think that's the case!
    Yea i thought about blaming the fact that i used to play vamps, and i'm not Jolima. But then i decided against it.

  7. #207
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    I have just finished my entry. I am quite excited about it. Roll on the 23rd!

    Edit - Also, Alini's was lovely.

  8. #208
    Lesser Hivemind Node NieA7's Avatar
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    Not only is Nuffletide a time to consider our good fortune (or lack of it) in the present, it's also for remembering great heroes of the past.


  9. #209
    Secondary Hivemind Nexus Ian's Avatar
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    Excellent. :D

    Judging by some of the excellent singing voices I reckon the RPS choir would be a hit.
    A brave heart and a courteous tongue. They shall carry thee far through the jungle, manling.

  10. #210
    Secondary Hivemind Nexus President Weasel's Avatar
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    Complete opposite ends of the spectrum there from NieA7 and Doughnut, and yet both brilliant. I really liked your use of olde-worlde idiom, NieA7.

    Well done both of you.

    (won 23, drawn 17, lost 20 - statiscally, I am a winner, baby!)
    Last edited by President Weasel; 21-12-2012 at 11:37 AM.

  11. #211
    Lesser Hivemind Node cyberpunkdreams's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by Ian View Post
    Excellent. :D

    Judging by some of the excellent singing voices I reckon the RPS choir would be a hit.
    I'm only joining that if we can do a Blood Bowl version of NWA's Fuck da Police.

  12. #212
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    "Straight Outta Kislev"

    Sung by Ice El Cubo, Weaselly E, MC Jim, DJ Helio and drpier

  13. #213
    Lesser Hivemind Node Jiiiiim's Avatar
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    Updated the calendar for the Penultimate Occasion. Two more people to go!

  14. #214
    Secondary Hivemind Nexus LowKey's Avatar
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    This thread makes me feel


  15. #215
    Secondary Hivemind Nexus groovychainsaw's Avatar
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    Right, here's my contribution. A bit of a violent blood bowl story. It hasn't had as much editing required as it probably needed, and ultimately is a bit... depressing, probably :-).

    I wrote it in google docs HERE if that makes it easier to read!

    .................................................. .................................................. .....

    The following is a Christmas story from the ‘Retired Player’s Society - Blood Bowl - Disabled or Dead charity’ (RPS BB DoD). Please give generously this Nufflemas.
    …................................................. ........

    He saw it before he felt it. The skin stretched first, the sinews visible, then the knee joint separating with a grotesque pop. A hit of pain, spearing through his brain. It continued. Blood gushing out, the kneecap flopping out limply, the muscle tissue tearing. With that, it was off, his leg floated away in front of his blurring vision as he hit the cold astrogranite. The last thing he saw as his eyes rolled into the back of his head was the Yhetee beginning to feast on his calf muscle. That was the beginning of the end.


    …................................................. ........

    'So, vat do ve haf here, eh?'

    A leering face loomed in front of his swimming vision. One eye was much larger than the other, drool dripped from the malformed mouth, snaggle teeth projecting in all directions. A huge wart on the broken nose hovered in front of his vision. He felt... unwell. They'd said the new apothecary hadn't been a former Necromantic team worker, but he wasn't so sure.

    'How bad is it, Doc?', he croaked.

    'Vell, you are missing your left leg from ze knee down. Also, a goblin appeared to snack on 2 fingers on your vay down here, so, dey are not so gut now.' The apothecary smiled in an intimidating manner.

    He relaxed. His long career was over. Missing a leg was beyond a niggling injury. His contract must be ended and he can retire, finally.

    Nuffle thought otherwise.

    'Can I introduce you to my colleague, Alexander Oxley-Burke?', the Apothecary slurped at him.

    'Hello Wolfstrom, how are you feeling? I'm a big fan.'

    Wolfstrom tried to turn his head to see the new speaker. He couldn't. Paralysing mushroom, he presumed. It explained why he didn't feel any pain. It couldn't be that long since he was stretchered off. In the corner of his eye, he saw a large collar, pale skin, beautifully white teeth. Cut-glass accent, too, privately educated most probably. He sounded... professional. Which was odd, for an apothecary.

    ‘So, obviously you were thinking you’d be off now, eh, old chap. Leg gnawed off by a Yhetee. Fitting way to head into retirement, no? Well, your bosses here, you see, think otherwise. You’ve been quite an investment for them here and as a fan favourite, they didn’t want to see you slope off quite yet, not whilst you still had few years left on your contract’

    Oh no. What... what were they planning?

    ‘So, they invited me along. Me and some of the chaps over at Apotech Research have been working on a new restorative compound. It’s partially based on a distant relation to the lizardmen who, for business reasons, can no longer be named. But they used to have... Very. Long. Legs. One of their innate abilities was growing back limbs. Not so quick as some of those undead players, granted, but not too bad all the same. We’ve managed to distill that essence into something that can be applied to any living tissue. So, good news, old chap, you’re going to get your leg back’

    Oh.... good Nuffle, no. Just as he was about to slip into a blissful retirement, they pull him back in. Nuffle should double skull that useless manager of his, signing him up for a ten year contract back in his early 30s. He was nearly 40 now, and barely limped through a match without numerous salves and potions as it was. He couldn’t believe they were that desperate to keep him. Sure, he brought in fans, but surely there was someone else?

    ‘As you know, there is no-one as popular as you, I’ve praised Nuffle for the opportunity to work with a bonafide star like you. I’ll put the compound on then we’ll knock you out until it’s healed a bit’

    ‘Zis might sting a bit...’ the apothecary spat at him in his sing-song voice.

    He then hit him with a wooden mallet. The old ones were the best.


    …................................................. ..........

    Half-time, game 2 of the series.

    The long leg had helped. An off-kilter leaping intercept followed by smashing that rat-man down had gone a long way to making him feel better about that green, overdeveloped monstrosity extruding out of his knee joint. But then one of those bloody gutter runners clawed his eyes. And now he was missing one and the other wasn’t helping him see much.

    ‘Vell, sorry I couldn’t vix your eye, Mr. Volfstrom’ the apothecary gargled.,‘but Alex has returned vis new compounds vor you zat might help’.

    A breeze blew past my left ear.
    ‘Heeello, Mr Wolfstrom, so good of you to join us here again.’ After my body recovered from the shock (vampires were clearly very light on their feet), the smooth, cultured voice wafted past me, attached to the pale form of the Vampire.

    ‘That is a nasty injury, how terribly unfortunate. Well, I think we have a solution to that.’

    ‘Now, hang on a minute’, Wolfstrom started. Fair enough, he didn’t want to be half-blind, but at this rate he’d be on a Nurgle team before he knew it. He’d had enough of this bizzare, corrupt set of compounds. Just let him retire and be done with it.

    ‘Hangon a minute. Surely its time for me to retire? I’ve put in 8 good, long years with this team and... and... you're making a mockery of me.’ He flailed his leg at the two of them. ‘ I mean, look at this thing. Whilst I’d appreciate being able to see, I’m just not sure if its worth it anymore?’

    ‘Well now, thats no way to talk, is it. I thought you were the legendary Buck Wolfstrom, beastman of a thousand matches, highest scoring AND highest murder rate of any player in the league? How can you talk of retirement? Some of the stuff you did out there today was legendary. They’re already writing the front pages as we speak.’ The vampire smiled. Wolfstrom saw fangs.

    ‘Well, yes, but that’s not the point is it? I can’t go on like this.’

    ‘With all due repect Mr. Wolfstrom, I think with a little help, you can, and, more importantly, contractually, you have to. Now, stay still for a minute, this won’t hurt after the initial shock...’

    The apothecary placed a purple mushroom on his forehead.
    ‘AAAArghhgh! Oh my god gedditoffgedditofffgedditoff!’ Wolfstrom screamed, then went completely placid. He was gone into a world of magic carpets and melting,flying colours. It was the best he’d felt for years.


    …................................................. ...........

    Quarter final, turn 3

    Wolfstrom saw the elf sprinting clear. Someone had to get back and act as safety. His eyes were working fine (although did look a bit odd now, what with the green colour and fish-eye effect) but the extra arm he’d gained as a ‘side effect’ was as much of a hindrance as a help. It had helped briefly at the start to grab hold of the ball, but a blasted wardancer had jumped over the chaos warriors, grabbed the ball and leapt away again. Someone had to take that elf down. He went for it, stretching his new leg as much as possible to pick up speed, he lowered his head for the charge. At the limits of his pace, he was one step from the elf and his old leg collapsed. It had been overcompensating for the new leg for too long, the muscles had given out. He clutched air as the elf slipped through all fifteen fingers. His knee twisted and there was a loud ‘crack’ from his shin. The crowd cheered, as always.

    The ref stopped play and the apothecary hurried on with 2 goblin stretcher-bearers. Wolfstrom wasn’t walking anywhere.

    ‘Vell, no vorries Mr. Volfstrom, ve can sort zat out, its only a broken leg.’

    Wolfstrom knew this. It was the eighth time he’d broken his leg, and commonly it meant several weeks out. He wouldn’t be able to play in the semi, maybe they’d lose and he could get out for the inter-season break. Nuffle knows he needed a rest.

    ‘No to vorry though, Mr Burke can help vith zis, zere is a new vay of fixing up those legs double qvick, you know?’

    ‘No, I refuse, I don’t believe he can he do it, especially with no side effects this time?’ Wolfstrom asked, sighing. He knew the answer.

    ‘Of course, of course, no side effects, the last 2 were just... accidents. He’s pervected it now, vor sure’

    Wolfstrom didn’t care any more. The excruciating pain of the shattered remnants of his shinbone grating against his calf muscle just made him want to rest. He closed his eyes and fell back into the now-familiar blackness.

    He woke up in a very cold room, lying on some sort of stone table. He felt a twinge in his leg. He craned his stiff neck down to look. His leg was there! No splints, just a wrapping of bandages around it. It looked... okay. He looked at his other leg. That also had bandages around it. Come to think of it, so did the rest of him. He looked decidedly... Khemrian. A breeze blew in the corner of the room.

    ‘I’m sorry about the bandages, old chap’. Wolfstrom jumped a clear inch off the table from a lying start. It was Alexander again, speaking right next to his left ear.

    ‘I had a Khemri friend assist with some of the work and he got a bit... carried away with the aftercare. Do not concern yourself however, the procedure went well, the tonic took effect and we reconstructed your shinbone whilst you were out. It should work better than before as we added some reinforcement using some ogre skull. Now, you might notice a strange sensation at the base of your spine....’

    Wolfstrom suddenly noticed a strange itch or, no, a twitch. He was lying on something wet, like rope? How come he hadn’t noticed that before. No wonder the slab was cold.

    ‘So, the team coach thought that, given your popularity with the fans, especially with some of your new additions, he’d like to see you with some other elements added in. I spoke to some Nurgle friends and we’ve... errr... given you an additional tentacle to help your game’

    Wolfstrom leapt up, and the tentacle swung round and wetly adhered to his face, leaving red welts and a cold slime trail as it peeled off again.

    ‘Gah!’ He exclaimed.’What in Nuffle’s name have you done to me, you Lustrian bastard!’

    ‘Now, now, Mr. Wolfstrom, please stay calm. It was quite clearly stated in your contract that you are willing to submit to whatever procedures might get you back on the pitch sooner. And that’s just what we’ve done. Look at the condition of your leg. It’s better than new!’

    ‘It never said anything about grafting on additional limbs or accursed tentacles!?’

    ‘Ah well, you see, it wasn’t a graft, that would be a bit crude, although I’ve seen such things done in the underworld. No, we used a restorative tonic to help your leg. It just had a bit of a... kick to it. Or ‘wiggle’, heh’

    Wolfstrom stared through his new fish-eyes at the Vampire. Through gritted teeth he spat,
    ‘This. Is. Not. A. Joking. Matter.’

    ‘Well, maybe not Mr. Wolfstrom. But you have 6 useful limbs now. Think of the advantages! Many people would kill to be in your position!’

    ‘Well, not me, I’m afraid. I’ve killed enough. I’ll be taking this up with my lawyer, you can’t do this to me!’


    …................................................. ..........

    Semi-final, penultimate drive

    Turns they could do this to him. The contract was watertight. He had his doubts about his lawyers, what with his one being a vampire who had gone to school with Burke. He got a second opinion, but it was another vampire who also claimed it was watertight. There were no lawyers who weren’t vampires here.
    He had played a good game however. His body was struggling with the additions and the strain it was putting on his frame, but once the painkillers had kicked in he got into it. He’d already murdered two goblins and shattered the arm of another. Two of those were just as they were trying to escape, he grabbed them with the tentacle and then gored them with his horns. So, in some respects, the tentacle was useful. Wet, livid, diseased-looking, but useful.

    The crowd were loving it as he shambled onto the pitch. The star player, a shambling mound of flesh and scar tissue. Six limbs of destruction. Just what they came for. He’d scored one touchdown in a short space of time and had been busy crushing goblins throughout the game. They were a well-moneyed side however, and they’d clearly paid off the ref. They’d kept a chainsaw on for the whole match so far which had worked it’s way through a slew of chaos warriors. Meanwhile, some of the other goblins kept taking sneaky kicks to players on the ground, often right next to the referee. Wolfstrom’s team were up 3-0, but the goblins seemed to be scoring in casualties. It was 5-5 so far, with the final drive remaining.

    The goblins received, gathered the ball and congregated behind their trolls in the centre of the pitch. Fine, let’s take those big sons of Nurgle down. Two guarding beastmen were ready for the assist as he began his charge, tentacle flailing out behind him. Time seemed to slow down. The troll next to his target reached down and grabbed the goblin holding the ball. The troll he was aiming for picked his nose aimlessly. He’d picked the wrong one, but it was too late now, momentum was carrying him through the hit. In the corner of his eye (which had large corners now, thanks to the fish-eye lenses) he spotted a glint of metal and a puff of smoke. Oh no. Oh Nuffle no.

    The goblin sailed through the air over his head. It would be, at best, a consolation touchdown for the goblins. His head made contact with the troll and gored him viciously in the leg. Even as he pulled back he could see the wound closing up. The troll was still investigating its cavernous nose. A ‘buzz’ came from immediately behind him. He flailed with the tentacle and felt searing hot pain and was splattered with his own cool, blue-black ‘blood’ as the tentacle wetly landed on the ground in front of him. This pain didn’t last for long though as it was superseded by a hot burning line through his torso. This is it! He thought. Freedom! Bring me home, Nuffle! The chainsaw working its way through his torso clipped a metal plate in his armour and stalled. Wolfstrom passed out.


    …................................................. ..........

    Wolfstrom woke up, back on the cold slab in the grey room. Alexander was leering over him, white teeth flashing in the torchlit gloom.

    ‘Ah, good, you’re awake old boy, thought we’d lost you for a minute there.’

    Wolfstrom couldn't reply. He couldn’t move, either. He was surrounded by strange pumps, tubes and bags of... substances. He was... alive at least? Surely they couldn’t piece him back together after that? Surely blessed retirement was nigh?

    ‘Well, we nearly couldn’t put you back together after that squeaky goblin lunatic tried to split you in two. Some of your organs had had it, so we ‘appropriated’ some from a necromantic team that didn’t need them any more. You have a werewolf liver! Which should give you excellent drinking prowess now, but only during a full moon. At all other times, I’d recommend you take it easy with the Bugman’s. You also have one ogre lung, which should give you some additional breathing capacity.’

    They’d obviously given him something for the pain, as he couldn’t feel... anything, really, but he was certainly breathing easily. His chest was heaving mass of flesh now that in no way resembled a torso, more a collection of tumours that someone had piled together.

    ‘Don’t try to speak, you’ll find it a bit difficult as your body is still adjusting and we have you under some awesomely strong painkillers right now. Good news though! You’ll be there for the final. Missing the tentacle, but we swapped that out for something even better. That werewolf we told you about? We’ve given you his claws!’

    Wolfstrom looked down. Yes, his hands, the last thing of any use to him, were now appended by foot-long, razor sharp claws. He was a monster in every sense of the word. Why have you done this to me Nuffle, why?


    …................................................. ...........

    Final game, last play of the game.

    It was Nufflemas eve, and a blizzard had sprung up out of nowhere. Somewhere in the crowd, some bells chink chinked along to the action on the pitch. Wolfstrom had the ball. His tired, mutated body screamed in agony as he flung himself up the pitch. He’d been bashing ogres down all game, and he’d had enough. This was the end. He made a silent prayer to Father Nufflemas.
    ‘Please Father Nufflemas, I’ve been good this year, always playing within the rules, and never killing anyone who didn’t at least deserve it, but I’ve had enough now. The best gift I could receive this year would be to end this. I don’t care how now though. That mad vampire is going to keep fixing me up no matter what happens and I need it to stop. Please.’

    He looked up. Only one snotling between him and the line. A glorious victory awaited. Champagne, bugmans, bloodweiser babes, the works. A couple of months off until the new season. How long did he have left? 3, 4 more years?

    But wait. A lone snotling. Wolfstrom glanced up. Could this be it? Is this what nuffle wanted? It seemed like the sort of thing he would do. He prayed for release, and swerved towards the pitiful snotling.

    From the snotling’s point of view, this was the scariest thing that had happened to him all match. He’d mostly kept in the backfield, and then quietly moved out of the way when anyone bigger than him loomed nearby (friend and foe alike). Suddenly, this furiously angry star came charging directly at him, all sorts of thing wrong with that body, a lopsided shambling apology for a fan favourite was about to skewer him. ‘Right’, thought the snotling. ‘Time to become a legend’.

    Wolfstrom lowered his head, aiming the horns directly at the snotlings head and dreamed of Nuffle’s embrace. As he closed the gap, images flooded his mind. The dreaded three red skulls of nuffle. A sign? Maybe. The skulls shook themselves for a moment, hesitating to suggest other outcomes, other possibilities. Just pushing the snotling, or tripping him (hard to do with those slippery little buggers), smashing into a fine paste. But nuffle has decided. The three red skulls appeared in his head again. So be it.

    As the snotling watched the final approach, he saw the head lower, the huge horns ready make contact. The little snotling swerved his body out of the way, duck and then jumped up and bit, hard. The snotling was rewarded with a mouthful of warm, blackish liquid. It tasted like ogre dung, but was the best sustenance he’d had all day. The teeth stayed embedded as the beastman fell to the ground and the snotling fell away.

    Wolfstrum lay on the ground, snowflakes outlining his now-hideous form as a pool of blackish-green blood seeped out from the severed femoral artery. The world started to grow dim as he realised Father Nufflemas had brought him the gift he’d asked for. The sweet release from the game of BloodBowl. The retirement he’d sought for so long. He closed his eyes, and the game was over.


    …................................................. ..............

    Please, this Nufflemas, think of the players, and donate to RPS BB DoD. We fight for players to gain new contract rights and better working conditions so stories like this do not happen to others. Remember, players are people too.

  16. #216
    Secondary Hivemind Nexus President Weasel's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by groovychainsaw View Post
    a distant relation to the lizardmen who, for business reasons, can no longer be named. But they used to have... Very. Long. Legs.
    Nice touch.
    I liked it. Poor guy.

  17. #217
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    Lovely GC - very dark

  18. #218
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    Well, it's not very Christmassy on reflection, and it's a rip off of a well known children's book. Bollocks though, here it is...
    __________________________________________________ _______

    The Helio


    Cyberpunkdreams logged into BB
    Jolima said “Why not have a game with me?
    Your gobbos are perfect for my nurgle to face
    I'll splatter your players all over the place.”

    “I'd love to”, said Cyber, “but didn't you know?”
    “I've got a match against Helio”

    Against Helio? Who's Helio?”
    “Helio? Why don't you know?”

    “His eyes are dark and his fingers are long
    And all his players have piling on.
    He stays up late memorising the rules
    And his eight-man fouls are terribly cruel.”

    What league is your match?” “It's the DoD.
    And he loves to crunch pestigors too, you'll see.”

    Oh,” said Jolima, backingaway
    I don't think I've time to play you today
    My dog needs a walk and the bath's sprung a leak
    And I haven't washed up for nearly a week.”

    And then he was gone, there was no sign of him
    And Cyber said to himself with a grin
    “Silly Jolima, doesn't he know
    There's no such person as Helio”

    _____________

    Cyberpunkdreams logged into BB
    Weasel said “Why not have a game with me?
    I'll smack down your trolls and maim your pogoer
    After the match he will bounce a lot slower! ”

    “I'd love to”, said Cyber, “but didn't you know?”
    “I've got a match against Helio”

    Against Helio? Who's Helio?”
    “Helio? Why don't you know?”

    “His appearance is foul, his presence disturbing.
    His selection of skills is always perturbing.
    His players are dirty, they're right sneaky gits.
    Just to survive will take all of your wits.”

    What league is your match?” “It's the DoD.
    And he'll have your Red Skull Reavers for tea.”

    BRB,” said the Prez, going afk
    And he wasn't seenfor the rest of the day.
    When challengedlater he claimed that his router
    Had died and he'd had to reboot his computer.

    But Cyber was wise to it and straight away after
    He threw back his head and roared out with laughter
    “Silly old Weasel, doesn't he know
    There's no such person as Helio”

    _____________

    Cyberpunkdreams logged into BB
    Corkir said “Why not have a game with me?
    My magnificent elves will humiliate your team
    We win every match by at least two or three”

    “I'd love to”, said Cyber, “but didn't you know?”
    “I've got a match against Helio”

    Against Helio? Who's Helio?”
    “Helio? Why don't you know?”

    “His skull is thick, his gaze hypnotic.
    His devotion to fouling is borderline psychotic.
    When playing he sits, not on an office chair,
    But on a throne constructed of bonesand of hair.”

    What league is your match?” “It's the DoD.
    And he'll force your dark elves to either die or flee.”

    Oh, right,” said Corkir,considering madly
    but I have too much work today sadly.
    Of course I'd love to, some other time you know
    Anyway, nice to talk, cheerio!"

    And Corkir was gone, the lobby was quiet.
    Cyber knew why, though she'd tried to deny it.
    “Silly old Corkir, doesn't she know?
    There's no such person as Helio”

    _____________


    Now those three have gone, each one in a taking
    Cyber clicks “start” and tries some matchmaking
    He watches the coin beginning to spin
    Is he losing his mind or are the lights going dim?

    And then the coin stops, sounding his doom.
    And the match screen opens, like the door of a tomb.
    Cyber stares at the monitor, his whole body frozen
    And views the opponent the server has chosen.

    His eyes are dark and his fingers are long
    And all his players have piling on.
    He stays up late memorising the rules
    And his eight-man fouls are terribly cruel.

    His appearance is foul, his presence disturbing.
    His selection of skills is always perturbing.
    His players are dirty, they're right sneaky gits.
    Just to survive will take all Cyber's wits.

    His skull is thick, his gaze hypnotic.
    His devotion to fouling is borderline psychotic.
    When playing he sits, not on an office chair,
    But on a throne constructed of bones and of hair.

    Oh help! Oh no!

    It's Helio!
    Last edited by Everblue; 23-12-2012 at 10:35 AM.

  19. #219
    Secondary Hivemind Nexus groovychainsaw's Avatar
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    Very nicely done Everblue, very entertaining :-)

  20. #220
    Secondary Hivemind Nexus Squiz's Avatar
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    Suberb contributions, this thread makes me smile every day. :)

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