MD8: The Four Bloodbowlmen and Daryl

[Suido]

Olde World’s Got Talent – THE GRAND FINAL

 

The two semi-finals were hotly contested, and after counting the votes, recounting the votes, being confused by differing vote counts, consulting the rules, finding the rule book was just a badly re-covered list of slaaneshi love charms, testing a couple of the love charms, having a quiet lie down, checking the votes again, getting a third different result, accepting a few bribes to apply a margin of error of +/-2, we have declared the semi-finals tied.

 

There’s only one solution. An ALL-PLAY GRAND FINAL. It’s gonna be a Pun-Rap-Sketch Comedy-Daryl battle! Please, welcome to the stage: Xonk’leez and Mikal Pal’n of Tepak Coatl's Leaping Circus, Tutan-Common, Shonky Punse, and Daryl!

 

 

The finalists are sitting in a semi-circle, drinking.

 

Mikal Pal’n: Ahh.. very passable, this, very passable.

 

Xonk’leez: Nothing like a good glass of Bloodweiser Old Peculiar, ay Shonky?

 

Shonky Punse: (points at X) You're right there, Xonk’leez.

 

Tutan-Common: Makes you think, hang on a mo, who'd a thought thirty years ago we'd all be sittin' here, imbibing beer, feeling some nostalgia as we drink Old Peculiar?

 

Daryl: I’m not thirty. I’m twelve and a half.

 

MP: Aye. In them days, we'd a' been glad to have a cup o' rotgut.

 

X: A cup o' TEPID rotgut.

 

TC: Without babes or chasers.

 

SP: OR rotgut!

 

MP: In a filthy, cracked cup.

 

TC: Nuh-uh, no way, nup, we never had no cup. No mugs, glasses or fancy flutes, we used to drink straight out of our boots.

 

X: The best WE could manage was to suck on an old jockstrap.

 

SP: But you know, we were happy in the rotgut daze, though we were poor.

 

MP: Aye. BECAUSE we were poor. My old Coach used to say to me, 'Money doesn't buy you happiness, and that’s why I’m dockin yer wages again.'

 

TC: 'E was right like a vampire lives in a coffin, I was happier then and I had NOTHIN'. We used to train in this tiiiny old field, with great big holes – any misstep could see you killed.

 

X: Field? You were lucky to have a FIELD! We used to train in one room, all sixteen of us, no equipment. Half the floor were missing; we were all huddled together in one corner for fear of FALLING!

 

SP: You were lucky to have a ROOM! *We* used to have to train in a hallway! An’ it had holes everywhere, we used to call it the fallway!

 

MP: Ohhhh we used to DREAM of trainin’ in a hallway! Woulda' been the big leagues to us. We used to train in an old septic tank on a rubbish tip. We got warmed up every morning by having black orcs bashing us all up! Field!? Hmph.

 

TC: Did I say ‘field’? Let me be real - it was only a hole in the ground, next to an old burial mound, bedeviled by ancient curse... but it were a field to US.

 

X: We were evicted from *our* hole in the ground; we had to go and train in a sewer!

 

SP: You were lucky to have a SEWER! We were sharing our facilities with three other teams and it were just an ordinary, average, medium-sized box that were middle of the road.

 

MP: Wooden box?

 

SP: Aye.

 

Mikal Pal’n: You were lucky. Wooden boxes stay in one shape. We played for a Lord of Change.

 

We trained for many months in ever changing septic tanks.

We'd get up at every o'clock to learn new plays and pranks,

eat Tzeentabix, train all day while sparrow fart turned to owl hoot.

And, just for laughs, Coach would kick us to sleep with his spiky boot!

 

Xonk’leez: Luxury. I were trained by a Great Unclean One.

 

We'd meet in the sewer at three o'clock in the morning,

eat hot gravel as plague rats nibbled us without warning 

train twenty hours at least; like Papa Nurgle, always mucky

Coach would stab us with a weeping dagger, if we were LUCKY!

 

Shonky Punse: Well, we had it tough. Our Coach were a Bloodthirster

 

We'd rise at midnight, run five miles to the old shared wooden box

be sacrificed to the skull throne, just the usual hard knocks

Khorne blimey, then freezing gravel, trained twenty-four hours or more,

and when we were done, Coach would slice us in two with a chainsaw.

 

Tutan-Common: Right. Deadly violence is one thing, but my Coach were a soddin' Keeper o' Secrets.

 

We'd wake at dusk, ten PM, half-hour before nodding off

Temptin babes, fine food displayed, never to touch, taste, nibble nor scoff 

Trainin thirty hours a day, we had to pay for the pleasure,

Coach would kill us and dance on our graves singin 'Hallelujah.'

 

MP: But you try and tell the young players today that... and they won't believe ya'.

 

ALL: Nope, nope..

 

Daryl: Believe what?

 

End scene.

 

[C2MC]

Guys.

Daryl could win.

[Guuma]

2 hours ago, C2MC said:

Guys.

Daryl could win.

 

He DESERVES to win !

 

#TeamDaryl #TopTalent

[Vaehnin]

Daryl Daryl Daryl! 

 

#TeamDaryl

[Suido]

Vale Tim Brooke-Taylor