Disclaimer:  I don't own SSX Tricky or its characters.  (Though I wish I owned Zoe, Psymon, Moby, Mac, Kaori, Marisol… heck, gimme the whole crowd!)

We Are NOT Sports People

Chapter Four

There was silence.

…A very long, long silence.

"Eh?" Moby said, brows furrowed.  Rahzel's smile faded, looking from one confused face to the next.

"Well don't… don't any of you know how to play Badminton?"

There was a shaking of everyone's head as curious face looked at curious face, shoulders shrugging.  Then from the back, still panting slightly, Kaori raised her hand.  Rahzel blinked.

"I know," Kaori said slowly, and everyone looked at her.  "Otousan and I play it sometimes.  It is one of our favorite games."

Rahzel laughed incredulously, looking around.  "All right then… I suppose I'll have to explain it to you all.  Kaori—er—you can take a breather if you want.  Get yourself a drink of water or relax or something."

Kaori looked around, smiling nervously.  "No, that is quite all right, Rahzel.  I shall listen too."

The disc jockey smiled.  "All right then.  Where to begin… Well, first things first, Badminton is a game played with a shuttlecock—or birdie, as some call it—and with rackets.  Like tennis, it can be played with a partner on your team, and that is how you all will be playing, just to simplify numbers.  The first to fifteen points wins."  He paused and looked around.  "Like volleyball, you can't let the shuttlecock touch the ground.  If it does, the other team gets a point.  However, if your team serves, the shuttlecock is returned, and it lands on your side, you lose possession.  Clear?"

Everyone blinked.  Rahzel blinked back.  "We're not going to be real strict with the rules and serving and whatnot.  We won't be changing sides or anything, either.  Remember, this is just for high school kids, so don't get real tense and expect to play it like you guys were in the Olympics or anything."

Mac put his face in his hands.  "Oh maaaan," he groaned.  "The guys back home are so going to make fun of me for this…"

Luther looked equally disgusted.  "An' here I was, a'thinkin' we'd reached an all-time low with volleyball…"

Rahzel clasped his hands together desperately.  "Oh come on you guys!  Life's an attitude!  If you guys look at this in a positive way, it'll be lots of fun!  I promise!"

"Cut it out with the life lessons, Rahzel," JP snorted, crossing his arms and his pretty face looking much less pretty in his irritation.  "You're starting to sound like Brodi with his Zen crap."

Brodi's face faulted, and his aloof expression became darker.  He looked at JP, smiling sickly sweet.  "You know," he said slowly, "it couldn't hurt for you to listen to some of my sayings.  Might teach you a thing or two about vanity and patience and respeeeect."

JP smirked.  "Did you say something?  Couldn't understand it amongst all that Zenny business."

Brodi's eye began to twitch and his lips became so tight that Eddie scooted a step over, eyeing his friend with a wary look.  Luther put his hand on JP's shoulder, staring at Brodi warningly, but Rahzel quickly interrupted before a fight broke out.  "Ah, yes, well, if you all would just turn around and give me your full attention."  He waited till everyone had consented and Brodi's eye stopped twitching before he continued.  "Right, first off, does anyone have any questions?"

Moby raised his hand.  Rahzel looked at him.  "Yes?"

"Uh, yea mate, how do ya hit the shuttle—" And suddenly overcome with a hacking cough, he concluded— "the shuttlecock?"

Zoe burst into a fit of uncontrollable snickers, burying her face in Moby's shoulder.  Moby tried not to look too pleased with himself, fighting to keep his face serious.  Rahzel rolled his eyes.

"Some cough there, huh Moby?" he spat sarcastically.  Moby coughed lightly again.

"Yea mate, don't know what the 'ell's my problem.  Must be this ruddy summer weather…"

Mac scoffed, crossing his arms.  "Man, how much older are you than me?" he asked, and Moby turned to glare at him.  "Sheesh, even I'm not that immature."

"Blow it out your ear," Moby spat back.  Rahzel scowled.

"Now boys, stop it before I have to call your mommies."  Mac and Moby exchanged menacing looks but said nothing.  "Moby actually had a good question there.  When you hit the birdie, you'll hit the cork, or the rubbery part, with your racket under-handed or over-handed.  When serving, however, make sure it's under-handed.  All right?"  There was a general murmur of okay.  "Any more questions?"

There were none.  Rahzel smiled.  "Ok then, the teams.  Once again, you guys have been randomly drawn.  No real strategy here or anything.  On team one will be JP and Brodi."

Silence.  JP suddenly started sputtering.  "You—you must be kidding me!  Him?!  On a team with moi?!  This is preposterous!  He's more of a clown than the goofy-looking guy over there!"  He hiked his thumb back at Eddie, who swelled up with indignation.  Seeiah and Marisol, however, started snickering delightedly.  It wasn't every day you heard an angry Frenchman pronounce the word "goofy".

Rahzel shook his head.  "No JP, these teams are for real.  Now just calm down and let me finish."  JP took his sunglasses off, staring at Rahzel as if he couldn't believe the disc-jockey wasn't going to say something like, "Just kidding!" or "April Fools!".  "On team two will be Moby and Marisol—"

"Just as long as it's not Elise," Marisol sighed happily.

"—Seeiah and Mac will be team three.  Kaori and Elise will be team four.  Luther and Zoe will be on team five—"

"NOOOOO!" Zoe suddenly interrupted, looking desperate.  "NO!  You paired me up with the FAT GUY?!  WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!"

Luther grunted.  "You gots a problem with that, missy?"

Zoe glared at him.  "No offense, but I just don't want to play with JP's overweight guard dog."  She turned to Rahzel, ignoring Luther, whose eyes looked like they might pop out of his head they were bulging so fiercely.  "Come on Rahzzy, pleasePlease change the teams for me!"

"For once, I agree with her," JP was quick to add.  "Change the teams!  Put me with Luther!  She can take the Buddhist!"

Rahzel frowned sternly, giving them a look that told them it was no use, no matter what they said.  "Sorry guys," he said firmly, "but there's nothing doing.  You're stuck with the person I pair you up with, and that's that."

Zoe turned to lean dramatically on Moby's shoulder.  "You and Marisol are going to slaughter us!  Anyone and everyone is going to slaughter us!  We don't have a chance!  Why me?"

Eddie, who had been quiet all this time, suddenly looked up.  "So that means… Team six…"

"Is you and Psymon," Rahzel filled in.

Eddie groaned and looked at the maniac, who was smiling ecstatically.  "Oh, bucker up, little buddy!" Psymon howled, wrapping an arm painfully around Eddie's neck.  "You know, we gotta get you a nickname!  As for me, you can call me crazy, but I prefer insane!  How about Fro for you?  No, better yet, Fuzz!"

The teen angrily tore Psymon's arm off him.  "How about Wachowski," he said dryly.  Psymon shrugged and gave Eddie a tight bear hug.

"Whatever floats your tinky-tonkey boat!"

Rahzel grinned and clasped his hands together, drawing everyone's attention back onto himself.  "You guys ready?  Good!  Because team one and two, you're on court one; teams three and four are on court two, and teams five and six, scurry off to the last court!  Let's get these games rolling!"

~*~*~

The referee blew his whistle much too soon for JP's taste.  He wasn't even through calling Rahzel every disgusting French curse he could recall, or done moping angrily about how unfair life was.  So it was understandable that he was caught completely off guard when Moby served, aiming directly at him.  Brodi called his name, but it was far too late—

PLOINK!

The birdie hit JP straight in the eye.

"DIABLE?!" JP suddenly screamed loudly, his voice echoing across the soccer field.  Two badminton courts down, Luther's porky head shot up in worry.  Rahzel sprinted towards him from across the field accompanied by two medics, just as JP was sinking to his knees and babbling on in hysterical, rapid French.

Though JP was Brodi's only enemy, he couldn't help but feel a little concerned, staring ceaselessly at his Badminton partner.  The Frenchman was covering his assailed eye with both hands, his words switching from French to English occasionally, but it was so spontaneous he wasn't making any sense in either language.  Rahzel crouched down next to him.

"JP!" he said, looking very, very much like a worried mother.  The cameraman set to film Court One zoomed in on JP's hands.  "Jean-Paul, what's wrong?  What happened?"

"Come on JP," Moby shouted from the other end of the court.  "What the 'ell's the matter with ya, ya weak little bit, eh?  It's only a little birdie, mate.  Wasn't even going that fast."

"MOBY!" Rahzel suddenly screamed, turning around and looking livid, like his firstborn babe had been accused of ugliness.  "Mr. Moby Ramsey Jones, this is NOT going to be a repeat of the volleyball tournament—"

Little did he know.

"—so would you PLEASE shut your mouth for ONCE in your lifetime?!  I don't need your opinionated commentary at the moment!"

"Yea…" Moby mumbled under his breath as the DJ turned back around, "and you certainly don't need any more coffee, either, mate…"

"JP!" Rahzel pleaded, trying to pry the soft French hands off JP's face.  "JP, please, look at me!  Please take your hands away and look!  I need to see if it's that bad!"

"I'M BLIND!" JP suddenly screamed in English, his words coated with melodrama.  He took his hands away, but just as quickly he threw an arm dramatically over his face, blocking Rahzel from seeing any damage.

Rahzel paled.  "Now—now JP, calm down, you may just be—over-reacting—" He swallowed and continued in a small voice.  "There's just no possible way that you could be blind, now, think about it…"

"But I aaaaaam!" JP wailed, and then switched to French babble, which no one, not even Luther, could understand.  Rahzel wiped the sweat off his forehead, looked around helplessly, then turned back to JP.

"I'm going to remove your arm, JP.  Now—now please don't fight me!  This is for your own good!"

Deftly, Rahzel gripped JP's arm and tore it away, holding it down.  He grabbed JP's other hand and held it tightly to his side to keep the Frenchman from shielding his eyes again.  Brodi was almost leaning over Rahzel now to get a good look, wondering if his French partner was really out of it.  The cameraman adjusted his zoom—

JP's eyes fluttered open—

And they were fine.  The assaulted eye wasn't bloodshot—wasn't even watering in the slightest.  Rahzel's scowl was unconditional, and he was squeezing JP's hands tighter than anyone normally would.  The Frenchman laughed nervously.

"'Vell 'vhat do you know?" JP said, his accent getting to him in his unnerved state.  He smiled an anxiously twinkling, toothy smile.  "It's… it's a miracle!  I can see!"

"Perfectly well," Rahzel growled.

"Yes—yes, perfectly 'vell…  Ouch, Rahzel, 'vhat's 'vith ze death grip?  You are cutting off ze circulation in my 'vrists."

Brodi rested his head in his hands and groaned.  "Buddha, give me strength."

~*~*~

The games resumed play not five minutes later, and two courts down, Psymon and Eddie were murdering Team 6.  Just as Zoe had predicted, Luther wasn't a very ambitious team player; she was beginning to wonder just how he'd ever managed to make it anywhere in football, he was such an anti-team person.  Eddie served the ball for the third time, and Luther was receiving once again.  With a great deal of self-control, Zoe just managed to keep herself from flinging her racket in front of Luther and saving the birdie.  However, as he was the one receiving the serve, that move was illegal, so she was simply forced to watch the shuttlecock zoom inevitably to Luther's feet—not that the Southerner did anything to prevent it.

Zoe's short fingernails dug into her racket.  That made the score what?  Six to nothing, Psymon and Eddie's favor?  She checked the scoreboard and assured her fears.  Anger welled up inside her, and she turned around to yell at Luther, even though five previous experiences told her it'd do nothing more than make him grunt.

"YOU LAZY, FAT, STUPID, SMELLY, SIMPLE-MINDED—" She began, spitting every colorful adjective that came to her mind.  Luther merely glanced at her, bent down, and picked up the birdie.  He tossed it to Zoe, startling her into catching it.

"Shut yer trap and throw that over the net for 'um, woman."

Zoe's face turned so red that her facial tattoos disappeared.  Letting out a passionate scream of frustration, hitting tones that only Zoe Payne could hit, she threw said birdie blindly into the air.  By sheer coincidence, it happened to go over the net.  Psymon caught it.  It was his serve next.

"Prepare for the assault, my stout little Marine!" Psymon called to her, moving back to the appropriate serving length.  Zoe didn't bother to even find humor in that, stomping over to the spot Luther was slumping out of.  She made a violent gesture with her racket that caused him to speed up for two steps, then return to his previous amble.  The punk boarder groaned and turned back to Psymon, glaring at him and gripping her racket like it was a baseball bat and she were preparing for a homerun.

"ServIIIIIIICE!" Psymon screamed, batting the cork of the birdie and watching it sail over to his target.  Zoe beat it back with exceptional grace for someone so angry.  It twirled dangerously in the air towards Eddie, who bopped it in Luther's direction.  And as expected, Luther did nothing more than watch it fly to his feet.

"ARRRRRRRRG!" Zoe cried, lifting her hands to her hair and tugging.  "THIS IS SO—ow…—THIS IS SO NOT FAIR!  I can't play under these conditions!"  She glanced in Rahzel's general direction.  "Why isn't he doing something about this?!  He made Luther move in the volleyball game!"

The reason for Rahzel's lack in upholding the rules was easily evident, though Zoe hated to admit it.  He was more than forty feet away, still hovering over Team 1 and 2's match; he seemed to think there was more supervision needed around JP and Brodi than anywhere else.  And the referee judging Team 5 and 6's match was a bald, feeble old man that looked absolutely terrified of Luther's overbearing presence, so he was of no help at all.  Zoe threw her racket on the ground in a childish temper tantrum.

Eddie smirked, watching another point being added to his side.  He caught the birdie thrown to him, turning to Luther.  He laughed derisively.  "Wow, this is great!  I'd always pictured you to be a much—erm—faster competitor than you've turned out to be.  But I suppose the illusion of you on a snowboard was all it was.  I mean, you're as large as a house, and houses don't go anywhere anytime soon!"

That was all it took.  Luther's head snapped in Eddie's direction so fast that his four chins wobbled.  Eddie's eyes widened at the look Luther was giving him.

Psymon started laughing, patting his Badminton partner's back fondly.  "Wow Wachowski, you're in sweet monkey crap now!"

~*~*~

Seeiah put her free hand to her hip, raising a carefully plucked eyebrow irritably.  She sighed, watching the birdie soar back and forth for the 400th time over the net, so far not having had to hit it more than once—and that was only because she had served once.

"Wow Mac!" Kaori panted, jumping up and hitting the birdie over handed in an attempt to spike it like a volleyball.  "You are very, very good!  But watch out!  I will get you!"

Mac dived in for a save just in time, quickly hopping back up to his feet.  He tried not to smile.  Despite the fact that it was still a very "un-cool, wimpy and girlish game," he found himself having fun; but perhaps everyone has fun doing something they're good at, and Mac was excelling with flying colors.  He wiped the sweat off his brow, watching Kaori back up a few feet so that she might hit the birdie back to his side.

Elise looked up at Seeiah.  She had long since given up standing and was currently lying sprawled out on the buzz-cut grass.  "Yo!" she shouted, and the black snowboarder looked her way.  "You wouldn't happen to have any suntan lotion over on your side of the court, would ya?"

"Afraid not," Seeiah said shortly, though she couldn't help but silently agree with Elise.  She twirled the racket idly in her hands, watching it with lazy eyes.  Apart from serving, there really was no need for her on the team.  Kaori was doing very well by herself.  Why couldn't she do something useful while they played their game, like go shopping or read magazines?

Cheering mixed with a loud cry of, "NOOOOOO" suddenly brought her to her senses.  She looked up and saw Mac beating the ground and Kaori doing what looked like a half-hearted victory dance.  She was obviously too tired to do a full-spirited one.

"Point for us!" Kaori panted to Seeiah, giving her the thumbs-up sign.  Seeiah smiled.

"Cool."

"Oh no," Elise said unenthusiastically, rolling over on her stomach and folding her arms under her face.  "Our poor team.  So what's the score now?"

Mac looked at her and frowned, wiping the sweat off his upper lip.  "Two to one.  They're winning."

Seeiah took the birdie offered her, backing up to the service line.  She bit her tongue and beat its bottom; it sailed gracefully over the net, only to be returned by Mac.

Well, that was two hits now.

After watching for a few seconds, Seeiah sighed and decided to take a leaf out of Elise's book for once.  She sat down on the ground and curled up, fully prepared to take a short nap out in the baking sunshine.

~*~*~

Marisol and Moby, it turned out, made a great team together.  They seemed to read each other's thoughts involuntarily; when one would hit the birdie and back up to wait for the return, the other would rush to the front to cover for them.  Their strengths made for a good combination as well.  Where Marisol was fast and bendable, able to dive and make saves that looked almost impossible, Moby was strong and aggressive, jumping and spiking the shuttlecock on more than one occasion.

In short: Brodi and JP were getting their pretty little hindquarters kicked.

JP grunted as he dived to the ground, trying to save the birdie, but it was no use.  Brodi shook his head good-naturedly and put his hands on his hips, breathing heavily.  He turned to look at Marisol, who was trying to teach Moby a victory dance she'd just made up.

"No no no," she said, laughing.  "Put your hands in the air and move your hips like this—no, smoother than that.  You look like you're going through convulsions."

Moby stopped his pitiful attempt, snorted, and crossed his arms.  "Ah, forget it.  Blokes don't move their hips, mate.  Looks queer.  We ain't got anything to shake, anyway."

Marisol rolled her eyes and giggled, looking at Brodi.  He picked up the shuttlecock and tossed it to her.

"Nice one," he said, winking.  "Real nice save last time.  Lots of grace in those feet of yours."

"Well they should be, they're only size seven, sometimes seven and a half depending on the width of the shoe," she answered absentmindedly, lifting her foot up and glancing at it.  "But it's small, unlike some of the gargantuan ladies present…"

Brodi wondered whether he should laugh or not.  Elise was, after all, his best friend's girl.  Thinking up something quick, he grinned and said, "Yea, my foot size is twelve, I think."  He picked up one of his feet and shook it.  "But I always wear half a size more because I like foot space, you know?  Don't want to feel cramped."

Marisol smirked, putting her fists on her hips, still gripping the birdie in her right hand.  "Big feet huh?" she grinned, winking at him.  "Not that we're bragging over there or anything."

"Bragging about what?"

"Oh, I think you know what I mean…"

It took Brodi several moments to figure out just what the heck she was talking about, but when he did, a very bright blush crept along his cheeks.  She winked at him and giggled heartily while Brodi stumbled over his words and flushed even more, not looking nearly like the calm, reserved, confident Buddhist everyone was used to seeing.  Seconds later, he felt something very hard collide with the back of his head.

He winced and stumbled foreword, turning around to see French eyes glaring at him, alight with anger.  JP lifted his hand as if to hit him again, but Brodi hurriedly grabbed his hands with both of his own.  "Whoooooa!" the Buddhist said, scowling.  "What the heck was that for?!"

From out of the corner of his eye, JP saw Rahzel take a few warning steps foreword, but he hardly gave him a second thought.  "For flirting with my ex-girlfriend, that's what!"

One of Brodi's eyebrows quirked up so fiercely that it looked like half his forehead was melting.  "What are you talking about, dude?  Calm down and listen to what you're saying!  Like you said, she's your ex!  It's not like I was seducing your wife or anything!"

"Yes, but still—"

"But still what?" Marisol chirped from across the court, having taken several steps foreword and listening intently.  JP looked at her and closed his mouth, chewing on his tongue.  After a few seconds of staring, he wrenched himself out of Brodi's grip and stomped away, crossing his arms angrily, his back to everyone.  Brodi rolled his eyes, but Marisol giggled.

"Such a baby.  Always pouting," she mumbled.

"Everything all right?" Rahzel asked dangerously, as if trying to hint to JP and Brodi not to get into a fight.  JP snorted so loudly that Brodi heard it.  The Buddhist turned and looked at Rahzel, nodding.

"Yes, we're quite fine, and thank you for your concern.  We were just having a little—"

A sharp scream interrupted him.  Everyone on Court One—including the cameraman—turned to try and see two courts down, trying to see the source of the cry for help.  The scream reached such a level now that it was starting to sound hysterical.  Brodi opened his mouth, but before he could say anything Rahzel had already taken off in a full sprint in that direction.

Moby lifted his head and scratched his cornrows.  "Mates," he said, turning to his partner and opponents, "correct me if I'm wrong, but wasn't that Wachowski?"

~*~*~

"SQUEAL, PIGGY, SQUEAL!"

And Eddie squealed.  As it turned out, Luther was much faster than Eddie had predicted; it seemed his speed in football hadn't quite abandoned him completely.  Eddie screamed in a manner commonly found in terrified five-year-old girls as he weaved back and forth under the Badminton net and through people, trying to get as much space between himself and Luther as was physically possible.  But the Southerner wasn't giving up without a fight.

"AS LARGE AS A HOUSE, AM I?!  WELL YOU JUST WAIT TILL I GET MY HANDS ON YOU!  YOU'LL BE SMALLER THAN MY PINKY FINGER!"

Rahzel arrived on the scene not two seconds later, slowing to a stop.  He hardly had time to register what he was seeing before Eddie frantically barreled in his direction and then tried to climb on top of him as if he were some sort of tree.

"Eddie—what's—what's going on—GEROFF ME!"

Eddie slid back down to the ground, but he scuttled behind the disc jockey and crouched like he were playing hide-and-go-seek.  Rahzel looked at him, baffled for a second, before he turned around and realized just what Eddie was hiding from.

Two hundred and eighty merciless pounds were training straight for them.

"SWEET MERCY MAYHEM!" Rahzel shouted, covering and bracing himself.  He could hear those giant footsteps—could feel the ground shaking underneath him—Rahzel waited for the blow with bated breath—

But it never came.

The DJ slowly lowered his hands to see that Luther had managed to skid to a stop, only inches away from him, looking utterly perplexed, as if he'd never seen Rahzel under sunlight before.  He blinked stupidly several times.

"What'd you just say, chumpy?" Luther growled out, though it wasn't an aggressive tone at all.  Rahzel swallowed, but his mouth was dry.

"Um… I don't know."  And he honestly didn't.  His tongue just spat out the words that first came to mind.  "What—what did I say?"

"I've found my lover!" Psymon squealed with glee, running towards Rahzel with open arms.  "Oh lover, where have you been all my life?"

The DJ paled and jumped out of the way just in time, sending Psymon crashing over the crouched Eddie.  Badminton Team 6 struggled to disengage their limbs and swapped curses while Rahzel turned to Luther, looking faint.  "Um… what?"

"Ya said, and I'll quote ya, 'sweet mercy mayhem.'"  He nodded towards the psychotic Psymon, who was now making kissing noises.  "Ya've asked for that one, bud."

Rahzel paled and looked frantically around.  "No!  No, someone help!"  He turned around once more and spotted Zoe, who was standing several yards away, numbly watching everything before her.  "ZOE!  Be a good girl and help a guy out, would ya?  Calm Psymon down, please!  He listens to you!"

"LOOOOOOVER!"

"And please tell him that I'm not his lover!" Rahzel practically sobbed, wringing his hands.  He knew it looked pathetic of him, but the mental image of Psymon sending him roses and a teddy bear for Valentine's Day was more than he could stand.  Zoe nodded and trotted over to her crazy friend, who was just now standing up and fighting to give the DJ a hug.

Rahzel tried to calm himself down.  He took several deep breaths and looked from one face to the next, realizing everyone was watching him.  He swallowed, summoning his best airy, commanding attitude.

"Um… yes, well, Luther—" He turned to the bulky SSX Tricky boarder "—back to business.  What you did just now to Eddie was totally uncalled for."

"But he was callin' me names!" Luther defended immediately, a childish look spanning across his face.  "He was sayin' I was fat and slow!"

"I can't imagine why," Rahzel said dryly.  He continued before Luther could sense the underlying sarcasm.  "But that's still crossing the line, and you know it.  I'm afraid I'm going to have to suspend you and Zoe.  You'll forfeit this match, and you won't participate in any more of the Badminton tournament.  I'm sorry."

The look that crossed Luther's face clearly told Rahzel that "sorry" wasn't required at all; anyone who wasn't any wiser could have sworn that Christmas was coming early, Luther looked so gleeful.  Zoe, however, happened to overhear, and turned around abruptly, letting Psymon go.

"Do WHAT?!" she barked, her mouth agape.  Rahzel glanced worriedly for a second at Psymon, but the maniac seemed to have calmed down considerably; at least now he wasn't drooling and staring hungrily at the DJ.  "What do you mean we won't participate?  Just because Luther and Eddie were playing tag?!"

Rahzel nodded solemnly.  "I'm afraid so.  His manner is inexcusable, and you certainly can't be a one-man—er—one-woman team, so you'll both have to sit this out."

Zoe looked too stunned for words.  Luther, however, was getting his groove on, shaking his stuff as he danced off the field.  Rahzel crossed his arms, as if to further emphasize his point.  Zoe didn't move, though; she didn't even blink.  She could have very well been petrified.

"WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" Psymon cheered, doing his own version of a "victory dance."  "Oh baby!  Who's the man, eh?!  Game one goes to Team 5!"

In a spurt of random hyper-ness—or random Psymon-ness—he stooped over, picked Zoe up and threw her over his shoulder.  Screaming like an Indian tribesman that had captured a fresh kill, he kicked up his heels and trotted off the soccer field after Luther, Zoe bouncing lifelessly on his shoulder.  Rahzel scratched his head, muttering to himself about what Psymon probably ate for lunch.

It wasn't until a soft groan sounded behind him that he realized Eddie was still there.  He turned and offered his hand, which the teen gratefully took, pulling himself to his feet.  Eddie looked a little shaky, and his face resembled vanilla ice cream with sprinkles once more.

"Mommy," he said softly, hunching over and trudging slowly off the field.  Rahzel watched him go and finally let out a breath of exhaustion.  He put his face in his hands, shook his head for a second or two, then looked up and over to the other two courts.

Everyone was still watching him.

"Resume your games!" he shouted, cupping his mouth as he did so.  "The tournament's not canceled or anything!  Your games are still on!"

Everyone nodded and went back to doing what they had before, and Rahzel sighed again.  He glanced down at his feet and saw an innocent shuttlecock mixed in the grass, lying motionless.  Rahzel groaned.  He suddenly knew that making them continue on really wasn't something wise to do.  He could feel it.

…Or perhaps that was just his indigestion…

Translations:

Otousan—Father

Moi—Me

Diable—What the Hell

Author's Notes:

First, I'd like to thank you guys for the reviews you gave me, especially the character-smart ones.  Trust me, I really, really want your advice as to how to portray the characters.  It's a bad habit of mine to illustrate them as I personally see them, not necessarily as they are…  But thanks for the Psymon, Marisol, and even Seeiah comments.  They're all well appreciated.  I also learned a LOT about Badminton.  Believe you me, I was reading up on the rules of that sucker and everything.  Lol, better to know the material you're talking about than be shooting in the dark!

For all of you who wanted Psymon to be crazier than he was, I really hope you like this chapter better.  I tried to bring out the… well… crazier side of him, not just the terribly masculine, attractive part…

And as for Seeiah having a minor part, I'm sorry.  I tried to include her more in this chapter.  She's just my least favorite character, and as such she tends to get smaller roles…  **Sigh**  Yes, if I had things my way, everything would revolve around Zoe and Psymon…

And ace of swords, I think I just might make Lacrosse their next game!  Not that I know too much about it… I'll have to be brushing up on that sport too, so I apologize if it takes me longer to post…  Oh, and Realitysplitter, I tried to shorten up the length in between paragraphs, but there's only so much I can do.  Hope this chapter was better on your eyes!

Laaaast but not least, if any of you guys want to see more of a character, just tell me, and I'll work on it!  Oh, and please let me know what you think about characterization!  ^_^  Love you all!!!

(And just for a side-note, the Badminton teams WERE randomly drawn by me, unlike the volleyball teams.  I figured I should try something different this time…  XP)

~Pudgoose