6 votes, rating 6
After a 2-0 loss to the Styx & Warpstone to start the season, the Scoundrels were already unhappy. But making things much worse for them, a second away game meant they were rousted from their slumber in the middle of the night, to board a rickety barge taking them south for their match. There's nothing a goblin hates more than an early wake up...
Except perhaps High Elves...
"Ooh, look at meee, ah'm sooo much posher than yew could possibly be" shrilled Fructose Overdose, stamping around the deck of the barge. "Living in a tree sounds just simply frightful, old chap. Why don't yew have a bee-youtiful palace made entirely of mithril? Oooh! Ooooooh!"
"That sounds nice..." Ladyshape murmured.
"Oooh, hellair thair, my name is Tabatha, I'm not even a cat and I'm still soooo posh that I've got a girl's name" Fructose screeched, holding a picture of the rookie lineman up to his face. "Ah like silver spoons and drinking tea from delicate china cups while extending my little finger."
"I'd love a cuppa tea" Ladyshape opined.
"Well, there ain't going to be no tea." Lonely Nigel fumed. "Those stuck up prigs won't even have any brambles or mushrooms to brew up, will they? Oh no, because they think they're sooo much better than us. With their croissants, and their brioche, and their artisanal baguettes."
"Ah-ah-artisanal baguettes?" stammered Little Billy No-Mates.
"Why do you think they're called Yeast Lords?" Bogan Picnic, no stranger to bread products himself, growled at his diminutive team mate, drawing a crooked fingernail across his throat.
"We thought they were aficionadoes of Saccharomyces cerevisiae" Teflon Fishslice piped up.
"Yer wot?" Fructose yelled back. "Sack-a-my-cease celery vision? What are you on about, you diminutive cretin? You need to play for this team for a lot longer than you have before you come up with those fancy-schmancy words."
"He's played as many games as you have" Bubo Bangins interjected.
"Oh don't you start," Fructose bellowed. "Sticking together with your mate from the chemical factory, are you? You probably like those Elves more than us. Now let me remind you, we're simple woodland folk, we like trees, and ... and bushes ... and hedges .. and ... "
"Holden V8s" boomed Manshape Gutwart, his voice echoing out of the darkness.
"Hold on what? Oh, never mind. Anyway, you start coming up with fancy words that can only be pronounced in an italicised font, like Suck-air-mices - "
"Saccharomyces cerevisiae" said Teflon.
"- thank you, Such-rom-eysies whatever, then you're as bad as those Elves, with their Frensh toast, ruddy Bretonnian nonsense that it is, their medium sliced sourdough, their, their, their bread products" Fructose tailed off, for he was as tired as the rest of the team.
"He means brewers yeast" Avo Smash Toast grumbled.
"How do you know that?" Bubo, Teflon and Fructose all chorussed, surprised at Avo's sudden learnings.
"I've been reading books you know. Mainly trying to understand the repair manual for my hedgetrimmer, but that's not all. Here -" Avo held up a dogeared copy of 100 Great Uses For Marmite. "It's all in here. Saccharomyces cerevisiae, delicious spread on crumpets. And you know what?" Smash Toast leered over the top of the book. "I think those stuck-up, yeast loving ponces are going to be spread all over the pitch tomorrow, just like yeast extract on a piece of Mighty White."
"Spread em! Spread em! Spread em!" The raucous cry was picked up by the rest of the goblins, who began to yell and throw one another in the air. All except Vegemite Disaster, who said nothing, but stared grimly out to sea.