/The plot development and GruntyBall rules are mine. All else is Rare's. Enjoy a day in the life of Gruntilda Winkybunion… With a twist./

Kickball

Grunty fumed in Cauldron Keep's top dome. Her life had become an utter misery; quite apart from having no body to cast spells with, quite apart from having her life punctuated by the dreaded Sunday kick-around, quite apart from being kept in a jolly sack covered in multicoloured patches – even apart from that dratted bird and bear spoiling her schemes twice! – she was furious about what she had sensed a few short weeks ago.

As a witch, she could sense magic being wielded in large quantities. She knew what the first spell was – a working of Mumbo, shaman of the Skullhead tribe, and Humba of the Indians. She had been working on the rivalry between the two clans for thousands of years; she could remember too clearly, for all the years between then and now, what had happened when their ancestors had worked together. They had been a great force of good and embarked on regular crusades against the followers of the Void, from which Grunty drew her powers. She had sold her soul for immortality during that period; at last she questioned whether it was worth the pain.

Then came the second spell, which left her rocking back and forth in dismay in this foul sack. She knew what it meant; the Grey Jinjo Family walked the earth again, and the Jinjos would now be able to form a Full Circle. She had hoped the evil in Spiral Mountain would eventually contaminate the entire world. Her only hope for obtaining a new body lay in waiting long centuries for the tide to start creeping over Cauldron Keep and feeding her from the suffering. Now that hope was gone. She could not die, that was beyond her, and her skull was in a very battered state. She could at least imagine death, wish for death. But she could not hope for it. Once she had dreamed of turning the world into what Spiral Mountain had become. She had had a plan, a marvellous dream, a fantastic hope. Now she did not dare to plan, dream and hope. She did not dare to think of what may have been; the contrast with what was would, she sensed, push her over the edge.

A hand gripped the sack.

"Go away", snapped Grunty, "it's Wednesday today, not Sunday!"

Well, there was an image to keep to. Bedraggled she may be, but it would take more than futility to soften her tongue.

"Aren't you lucky, Grunty!", said Banjo. "You're getting to come out of the sack twice this week! The kickball tournament between the Moles and the Jinjos is starting today, and you're the ball! They've developed special rules for the event – they call them the GruntyBall Rules! Personally", he added, grinning, "I agree with them. GruntyBall does indeed rule."

"When I get out of this mess you're going to be a dead bear", snarled Grunty.

"Knock it off", said Banjo, "you know that's not going to happen. C'mon, Kazooie, let's get this party started!"

Oh, no. He had the bird with him!

"This is going to be a BLAST", trilled the idiot loud-mouth. "You are gonna be SORE after today!"

The bear was hateful, but this breegull was positively nasty! She seemed to take a joy in Grunty's suffering that went beyond all reason. That she deserved it did nothing for Grunty's mood, and her temper got the better of her. Yes, focus on that, too much time spent in idle speculation is bad for a head. That is what she told herself.

"Not as sore as you'll be before I let you die!" screeched Grunty.

"Same old Grunty", said Banjo playfully, "never says die. Top marks for determination, but after two years I'd say that's a tad unlikely."

His playful attitude somehow was worse than open anger. She had lost all power of fear over these two! This was a truly wretched situation, after thousands of years following the Void!

The bear and bird had been carrying her all the time during this, and so they were already coming out of the Jinjo Village silo. A clearing had been made in the centre of the village, and a circular enclosure in the style of a colosseum had been erected. Banjo and Kazooie entered the building and opened a door on the interior of the stadium. They strode proudly out into the sunlight with their wriggling burden.

"We give you", they said, loudly enough to be heard by everyone in the stadium, "Gruntilda Winkybunion!"

A storm of laughter erupted. Grunty had threatened to sue when she let her full name slip; now how could she? She let out an ear-splitting shriek only to be met by more laughter. Grimly she realised she was playing right into their hands and settled for glaring at the audience with her empty sockets.

Banjo and Kazooie set Grunty down on the kick-off point marked in the centre of the stadium and made their way to the Royal Box – King Jingaling had invited them, Tooty,Mumbo, Humba and the entire mole family to share the commentator's box with him. He was the commentator, you see. He really was very nice for a king.

"Now", called Jingaling with his magically amplified voice, "for those of you who have been under a rock this past week…"

The crowd (mainly Jinjos, but with the occasional visitor – Jolly the frog, for example, had managed to get some time off from running his inn, and Salty Joe needed little excuse to avoid custom at his chip stand) laughed again.

"…the GruntyBall Rules are as follows. One: only two people, due to the risk of injury, are permitted to play on each team. That means two Moles and two Jinjos, and no more. Two: This is NOT a freestyle or 'anything goes' match. This means that the Jinjo participants may not use their Shadow abilities, and the Moles cannot play subterraneously. NO DIGGING! Three, and pay attention, as this is the most important rule. Points are given to each team based on the amount of force they exert on Grunty's head. This is why only four players may play simultaneously; the risk of injury is too great with a larger team."

"There will be three rounds, with a total time of twenty seconds per round. The Grey Jinjo Family will be playing this match in honour of their extraordinary resurrection at the hands of Mumbo Jumbo and Humba Wumba…"

Deafening cheers. Mumbo and Humba bowed to the crowd. More cheers.

"…And they have selected Panakus, the eldest, and Fergus, the youngest, to represent them. The Moles have chosen two brothers, great heroes who taught Banjo and Kazooie everything they know… Of course, I refer to the legendary moles Bottles and Janjars!"

The crowd went wild. This as turning out better than they'd hoped: Jingaling really knew how to play to the crowd.

"Let the game commence!"

Grunty had been listening with mounting terror throughout all of this. Rule Three! All four competitors charged for her.

WHACK! And she was flying through the air. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

"And Bottles and Jamjars go in on an immediate offensive! Look at that teamwork, they've obviously been playing for years!"

WHACK! THUD! And she was skidding to a halt.

"Panakus is closing… And yes! He's there!"

"JINJO PUNCH!" cried Panakus, striking Grunty into the air. The viewers at home saw her head curve upwards from one side of the stadium to the other.

"Fergus is on target after that stunning pass from Panakus! Come on, time is running out!"

THWUNK! WHACKWHACKWHACK… Iwillnotscream, Iwillnotscream, I'll rob the beggars of the satisfaction…

"Time up! The moles win that round by six contacts to five!"

Jingaling turned to Banjo and Kazooie worriedly.

"You told me she was quite loud! You showed me the recordings!" he said. Mumbo and Humba had had the sense to cease amplifying the Jinjo King's voice when they saw his expression.

"She's normally quite vocal. I suppose she's just trying to hold on to some of her pride now it's a televised event", said Banjo.

"I told you that you should have let us rough her up beforehand!", added Kazooie. Jingaling sighed.

Grunty had been placed back on the spot again. Jingaling readied himself for the next round.

"Round Two begins… NOW!"

"THWACK! CRUNCH! BASH! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!

"Panakus is showing us some spectacular moves today! Look at him go!"

"AARGH! OW! BLECH!"

Jingaling nodded in satisfaction.

THWACK! THWACK! THWUNK-THWUNK-THWUNK…CRUNCH!

"Yes, the Jinjo team are taking it away!

"MOLE CRUNCH!" cried Bottles and Jamjars, each aiming for Grunty. They collided head to head. The crowd gasped.

"Round over – the Moles are out! The Jinjos win by default while our shamans revive their fallen foes!"

Mumbo and Humba started chanting softly. Humba had learned much from Mumbo these past weeks; they found, to their surprise, that their different magics each amplified the other. The rest was a matter of practice. Jamjars and Bottles were revived in moments.

"Great going, brother", they said simultaneously with dirty looks.

"Round threeof the match ladies and gentlemen! Begin…NOW!"

THWACK! THWACK! BASH-THWUNK-THWUNK-THWUNK…

"AIEE! ARRGH! OWOWOW! URK!"

"They're bouncing her back and forth! Panakus… Fergus… Bottles… Jamjars…"

THWACK-THWACK-THWACK-THWACK-BASH-CRUNCH-BASH-SKIIIiiidddd…

"OOH! OW! ARRGH! AIEEE! OWOWOWOW! ARRGHHH!"

"And time up, ladies and gentlemen! The final round…"

The crowd hushed.

"Was a draw!", finished Jingaling. "Thank you for coming, everyone! For souvenirs of the game, come to the entrance of my Palace!"

And so the game ended. What a hellish day Grunty had had; she couldn't even keep herself from screaming, she mused as she rested in that foul sack back in Cauldron Keep. She could not sleep, aching as she was, and there was nothing to stay awake for. Nothing to live for.

"You can keep your stinking immortality!" she screamed into the night.

Just on the edge of hearing, she heard the demon laughing softly across the gulf that separates the planes. It meant her to hear.

She heard footsteps.

"GO AWAY!", she screeched.

"Itsss me, missstressss. Don't worry, clever Klungo hasss a plan."

"Klungo?"

/And the plot thickens, you lucky lucky people. I very nearly didn't have time to finish this chapter today. Read and Review/