In the highest seats of the stand, sat Amity, Luz , Gus and Willow, the commentators of the Emperor's cup, A Cabalvision Channel With Double-Digit Viewing Figures, were going live.
"Yes, it's a gorgeous morning here at Hexside as the Hexside Banshees take on the Glandus scramblers. You're live with me, Jim, and my commentary companion, Bob
Jim glanced across at the ogre beside him.
"You're an ex player, Bob," Jim continued. "What do the Scramblers need to do to win this match?"
"Meet the Banshees on their terms, Jim. They cannot hope-hope to match them physically, so they're going to have to run. Keep the ball moving, stay out of contact…"
"Prediction on the scoreline?"
"Too close-close to call. But the fans will be very, very unlucky if they don't see some horrible mauling-mauling and even maybe a touchdown."
"Here come the Scramblers now," Jim continued, "led by their captain, Clint Gritclaw. Some real imagination went into that name, eh, Bob?"
The scramblers took to the field.
"And the home crowd is up-up in their seats," Bob shouted, "because here come the Banshees!"
"Team captain Boscha heading across to the referee to decide the coin toss there, as coach Principal Bump takes his seat in the dugout…ah! And sections of the home crowd have started an all-out brawl with the away crowd. That should keep us all entertained in the tedious seconds before the match actually begins."
Out on the pitch, the two teams were taking up their positions; in the centre, Boscha having won the toss, requested that they received the kick
Skara glanced at her opposite number at the line of scrimmage, a black-furred ratman, almost as tall as a human, dressed in full metal armour adorned with spikes, chains and even a couple of skulls. The ratman stared back at her, defiantly.
The referee, a tiny goblin painted all over in black-and-white stripes, glanced up at the sky for a moment, checking the position of the sun, before blowing his whistle.
Skara swung her arm around, hard. Blood jerked up into the air, and the ratman went tumbling backwards.
She was halfway across the pitch. She gazed at the fallen figure of the Ratman, twitching back by the line of scrimmage.
"Nuffles nards " she muttered, kicking at the grass, and turned away just as the ball went flying over her head.
A spinning flurry launched itself into the air; one of the Glandus players snatched the ball up, mid-flight, and landed.
Amelia saw the player dash forward into the Banshee's half. She bent downwards, aiming her body vaguely in the direction of the fast-moving Player.
"To infinity," she declared, "and some other place."
The ensuing tackle was quite a violent one, and it drew an appreciative ripple of applause from the crowd. Both teams had taken advantage of the distraction and were now busy stamping on the heads of the fallen.
"Some good old-fashioned, meat-and-potatoes foul play there," Jim said into his microphone.
"It's got the crowd-crowd on their feet. And it looks as if we're going to be treated-treated to the Banshees fan anthem."
Boscha leapt up, ducking to avoid Clint's Kick, and kept running. The grass tore up beneath her feet.
Dodging a flaming projectile being hurled at her from somewhere in the crowd, she tripped, stumbled, but kept herself upright, aware of the horrid hissing and click-clack of iron claws that suggested rat-men were close behind her.
As the end of the pitch came into focus, she gritted her teeth and pressed on, her legs aching, pounding away at the turf-
-and shrieked as a gigantic hand tore through the air and snatched her up, lifting the struggling human to eye-level, gave her a curious look. The abomination licked at its raw, bloody lips.
Boscha closed her eyes.
And then from somewhere below, punctuated by the sound of thumping feet, growing louder, and louder, she heard a familiar, bellowing battle cry,
She opened her eyes.
Kat.
She Kicked the Abomination in the face. It staggered, and snarled, lashing out at the treeman with its free paw.
"Kat," Boscha yelled, "take the ball! Let go of it and take the ball!"
"'EEEEEEEREEEE WE GOOOOO!"
Skara took a running jump, launching herself and crashed headlong into the flailing abomination, its legs, buckling, began to give.
"Oooh," Boscha yelled, as she found herself being carried downwards in the Abomination's outstretched hand, "oooh, ooossshhhiii-"
There was a thump. And, a split second later, the unmistakable and rather nasty sound of bones snapping beneath a great body of pressure, Boscha went tumbling out, ball still in hand, and fell, face-first, into the grass of the endzone. She gazed foggily at the blurred, spinning green vista stretching out before her.
Weakly, with a tired little groan, she stretched out her hand, and tapped the Rusty Smidge once against the ground. Then she fell over.
"THE SMIDGE!" Jim roared. "THE BANSHEES WIN!"
The crowd erupted.
After a few moments of quiet, aching contemplation in which the world went a funny shade of white, Boscha pushed herself to her feet, staggering just a little from one direction to the next, and looked about for her teammates.
The team, as one, were gazing down at the abomination, who was lying perfectly still on the ground, its torso pressed down into the sunken earth of the endzone.
"Think it's dead?" Skara asked.
Boscha raised her boot thoughtfully, and stamped four or five times on the Abomintions head.
"That should do it," she said, with a certain quiet satisfaction.
Boscha turned to see Amity, Luz, Willow and Gus running onto the field to join her and the team in celebrating, Hexside students and Principal Bump were all celebrating.
" Your in the finals, congrats Boscha" Amity cheered, Boscha smiled " Thanks " she replied, " Good work everyone" Luz said as she hugged Amelia, Skara and Kat, Gus was doing his flag dance, Willow and Amity were hugging Boscha.
