“Jakob Küchenmeister's journal, #3 entry:

A rarely seen opponent on the Blood Bowl field made it's entry to our stadium today. Known for their unique flavour, the pro elfs were welcome guests.
The game was played in perfect weather, gentle wind and slightly overclouded sky.
The elfs were relentlessly slughtering our aides, while my masters refused to hurt the elfs, fearing to tenderizing their soft flesh too much. Our wonderful chefs had a hard time cincentrating on the game, standing most of the time wondering how they would eat the fae, staring into nothingness and drooling. Despite of thatCrumbstealer marched in with the ball guarded by two ogres near the end of the first half. The elfs equalized easily before the end of the period.
Second half started off with us taking the initiative in defense, but not being able to capitalize. Our opponents scored rather easily. After kickoff the elfs reacted faster and went quickly for the ball. One of our snots survived several hits from opposing players, holding onto the ball. Eventually we were able to get it to midfield, where Chef Gorefeast dropped the pass. He corected his mistake, scooped up the ball and ran for the endzone. An opposing catcher tried to interfere, but fell at his feet. This strangely and sadly proved to be our downfall. Drakku Gorefeast stared at his feet, obviously thinking about how he would devour the little elf, completely forgetting about the ball, the game, the world! The ref blew his whistle and the game was over. We lost. No doubt this loss left a bitter aftertaste in our mouths. Pretty much like rotten troll guts, served with spoiled chaos spawn testicles. ”