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 Issue 13 - August 28th 2511
Dear Prinzka
by Prinzka

Dear Prinzka,

My coach has been reading Clarksongoo's contribution to your paper and now wants to buy us a "cool" Deathroller but we're concerned that all those whirly bits will catch our lauded facial hair. How can we stop him?
Yours worried,
Grognard Hairytoes, Longest Beard.

P.S. Do you have any good recipes for frog parts? I hear the tongues can be tasty if cooked right.

Dear Grognard Hairytoes,

You are right to have your reservations. I sometimes work as an apothecary, and I can tell you right away, the injuries and deaths caused by a deathroller have been among the worst I have seen. I have seen arms without a bone left in them, crushed and flattened, with blood squirting out on the sides. And worst of all, it happens often enough that it is not an opposing player that ends up flattened under that hellish machine! Especially with your long beard, the odds are quite 'long' that your hair will eventually entangle with the machine itself.

You've got a few options:

  • Apply to become the driver of the deathroller yourself. This way, you should be relatively sure that you won't end up flattened underneath, and you can also safely squash your enemies without even lifting a fist. That said, considering the length of your beard, you should probably shave your beard first.
  • Sabotage the deathroller when it comes, so that it won't be able to ride on the field or leaves it quickly. This would, of course, be detrimental to the team's success, as you will have wasted the money that has been spend on the contraption. Just in case your sabotage fails, you might also want to shave your beard.
  • Find another team to play for. I know a great goblin team that would be happy to have you, as long as you shave your beard first

Lacking any hair growth on that part of the body,

P.S.: Frog parts? Well, I suppose a cooked frog tongue would taste nice if garnished with a dwarven beard.

Dear Prinzka,

My problem is twofold. I am the coach and owner of the Chaos Pact Team 'Big Killa Death Jokers' and so far we have done pretty well. Over 5 Deaths or serious injuries per game on average and we even won 2 games of the 12 we've played.

The problem is that my Big Guys have fallen out. Turns out 'Lump' the troll is female. 'Smacker' the Ogre is horrified and won't go near her, and my Minotard 'Grrrrr' is lovelorn and won't blitz away from her, or let anyone else near her. Ever tried telling a Minotaur that 'No means No'?

How do I fight the sexism of my Ogre and the 'advances' of my Minotard?

Neville 'Horned Defiler of the Void' Smythe- Johnson

Dear Neville 'Horny Defiller of Some Void' Smythe-Johnson,

Have you ever considered letting nature simply take its course? You see, sometimes events happen exactly like they should, even if it does not seem like it at the time. In this specific situation, let us consider what would happen without any specific intervention at all.

At first, when the situation is still unresolved, 'Lump' will remain the roadblock you want her to be. At the same time, 'Grrrrr' will protect her. He will stay near her, and together they will clean up a lot of opposition, and neither will be tied up so much that they will face getting pounded into the ground. 'Grrrrr' should not be blitzing too much anyway: Minotaurs blitzing is a recipe for disaster eventually, as they get too carried away. 'Lump' is exactly the anchor he needs to improve his play. All the while, 'Smacker' can be the more mobile Big Guy, beign wherever he is needed elsewhere. So, there is no real problem as of yet.

Whatever happens next in this 'little' situation, it can't really be bad. If 'Smacker' leaves because he is too disgusted, then clearly he is not fit for play at all: how would he ever be able to block a Nurgle warrior if he can't even cooperate with another Big Guy? And if 'Lump' accepts the love interests of 'Grrrrr', then they might even have children... A troll with a mother's instinct would be a great asset on the pitch. And if she does not, then 'Grrrrr' will simply get over his infatuation eventually.

I doubt a hypothetical child would be useful though: stupidity and a flaring temper rarely mix well succesfully. The minotroll would start blitzing in rage and forget halfway where (s)he was heading.

Ready to fill your void,

Dear Prinzka,

Me no wanna play Blood Bowl. Me wanna dance. Brutha Bogwrath says i throw ball for him, and he say me wear small arma as me little, but me wanna dance. I iz small for orc. In Blood Bowl me surely die. When i dance i feel like elf. All pretty. Will brutha understand? Iz happy ending and brutha be proud my future? I dance gud.

Grilly Belliot

Dear Grilly Belliot,

Oops, looks like I published your name, Grilly Belliot. Aack, did it again.
You shame all greenskins on the face of this world, and the excrement of the great Gork and Mork in the sky is still too holy for you to be near, let alone touch. May you never set foot on the Blood Bowl pitch, so that you may never defile the purity of the game, not even as a weak-bellied, elfish cheerleader.

My only hope is that your tribe will feed you enough hafling gut, so that one day you might truly feel the spirit of WAAAAGH! (I am not talking about that giddy feeling you get when you dance, that is something else...)

Feel the WAAAAAGH! energy in your limbs. They tell you to punch, not to dance, Prinzka

Big boog no come off finger. Pick wit udder hand now boog stuck on udder finger. Boog too ugly to eet. Sumpin' in it me no like look of. What me do?

Force someone else to eat it instead.

Mildly disgusted,

Dear Prinzka,

I have been working as a Blood Bowl apothecary for a couple of years now. When in our latest game a nasty black orc smashed the collar bone of our star blitzer I rushed in trying to fix him but unfortunately there was nothing I could do to improve the situation. Then the head coach ordered me to give the player a lethal injection and as he can be very threatening I had to obey his command. Now I am worried that I might have broken the code of medical ethics and I don't know how to proceed. Can you give me some advice on what to do?

Thank you,
Manfred Ernst Dic, Apothecary

Dear Manfred,

If you are really that concerned about apothecary ethics, than I see no other option than to poison your coach and take his place after he dies, so that he can never demand this from you again.
If it makes you feel better, you could smash his collar bone first.

Lethally yours,

Dear Prinzka,

My teammate, Shindahl, a teensy Skink of all thingss, keepss hogging the ball. The coach, a rat himsself, without knowledge of a reptiles true power, keepss putting Shindahl as quarterback. I practise every day with my ball-handling, and my running playss; I catch and I dodge and I twirl.

How do I make coach ssee that I'm the true quarterback?

Zekssi, forlorn without the ball

Dear Zekssi,

Sooner of later, Shindahl will be injured, or perhaps even die, and then your coach will look for a replacement. At that time you can show him your ball handling ways, and surely you will be able to be the main ball handler from that moment on.
Perhaps sooner rather than later. Catch my drift?

(I hear smashing someone's collar bone often leads to rather extreme solutions. Just a hint.)

Never forget that there are always multiple ways to become the best player on your team,

P.S. : Are you sure you are not related to 'Grilly Belliot'? Your desire to 'dodge and twirl' comes across as a little suspect...

Drear Prinzka,

We're coming for you.


Dear Unsigned,

Don't let the squig bite you on your way in. I've got a nice slug/snotling gut cocktail boiling in the kettle. Want some?


Drear Prinzka,

Grandpa always nagged me with stories of the good old days, when dirty players were rightfully feared. And that I can not live up to the family name, by putting the boot properly in. Back in his days many an infamous specialist boasted 26/36 off pitch ratio in a merry team cuddling, now I only get sent off before I get to the good parts. I am feeling the peer pressure from my team to improve on dwarf stomping, but I don t seem to get the results whatever I try. Seems all the old timers who knew the tricks in the book had passed away one way or an other. Can you give me some of your fabled advice and practical tricks?

Shifty Thrashfeet, goblin fan favourite

Dear Shifty Trashfeet,

The problem is not that you are not dirty enough to find the good spots to grind your feet on, or that you are not sneaky enough to land in a subtle one, but that the policy for refereeing has changed. What you really need is not advice on how to best foul your opponent, but how to properly bribe your referee.
Or is the coach not supporting the good cause of fouling in your team? If so, then you should really take this up with him.

That said, my personal favorite is to sneak in a hungry infant squig, and drop the little creature on the face of that slippery wardancer when he's down. Sure, you might be sent off, even temporarely suspended, but it is a recipe for success, and you'll be an instant crowd-favorite.

Make sure you never wash your feet, so that they are really dirty,

Dear Prinzka,

I joined a bloodbowl team 'cause my brother died on the pitch which seemed quite honorable and cool. When I signed the contract I thought the team's name - Agility Monsters - was some kind of coach-ish joke. But the coach is nuts. He forced some of my colleagues to learn how to Pass Block (says he want them to become legendary interceptors). He denies us the pleasure to deliver really Mighty Blows. Hack, he wants us - and by us I mean us longbeards, too! - to toss around that thing called ball, gabbling about "passing game" and "elfball".

I'm getting desperate here, man. I'm getting nightmares about the day he wants to teach me something new like Fend, Sure Hands, Hail Mary Pass or PASS BLOCK. If he starts designing beardless player icons for female dwarves like me (We HAVE beards!! No one would even get the difference, if HE wouldn't point it out!!), I REALLY don't know what to do...

Kelpja, Sister of Bjok Irongrip

Dear Prinzka,

I know a former member of my team wrote a letter to you. Please don't bother with answering her.
The problem has been taken care of.
She died the next match.
Do dwarves have an afterlife?

Rabe (head coach Agility Monsters)

Dear Rabe,

You realise you are asking a famed goblin about dwarf religious beliefs? I have no idea about the afterlife of dwarves, but I always imagine them sitting on a cloud, toying around with their long beard until eternity.

Which is why I always urge them, or force them, to shave off their beards before they die, so that they might have a better afterlife.

The Beard Collector.

Dear Rrrinshka,
I want *hic* I okay say this: I have a problem man. I met this goblin in the bar and he showed me stuff right? He showed me all his trick and how to make bombs yea. Gimme that! *glug* anyway I sets up mi workshop and pretty soon I'm a star! The ref says I only have to play one Drive in a game and still the coaches kept bringing me piles of cash. All that lovely gold and beer... wha?! oh right right yeah man wha was I sayin? Right right the cash. Well now I got this problem -huh? no I can still drink jus fine. Gimme that I'll show I'll show you! *glugging and splashing*

Sho anyhow yeah it was grand, my own apothecary and everything (and not one of those incompetents the Teams use!) but then no more bombs! Coaches still come by but when I tell them I got no more bombs they go away again I can't even get a gig as a player cos the Referees all know me and send me off! Wha? OH yeah the bombs.. someone blew them up! BOOoommmm.. blew them right up... Lost the stinkin formo-forum-recipe didn't I?

So yeah prinzie where an I get me some more bombs so I can be a star again?

I love you no really I love you man,

[Enscribed by the devices of Fergus Ironson Imprinting No-Liability Company]

Dear Boomer,

I have heard of this problem. I believe bombs are an incredibly rare commodity these days. Personally, I think there is a gang out there that is 'bombing the bombs', if you know what I mean. Goblin teams have not been able to bring any bombs on the pitch yet either, despite the fact that bombardiers are eager to enter the pitch.

To solve this problematic situation, I am currently trying to research bombs that do not explode that easily, so that they might still be there when we need them, but obviously, there are still a few problems with that plan.
I have also hired a detective to discover the truth behind this Blood Bowl-wide conspirocy. He returned to me with the information that an evil mastermind with the name 'Kalimar' is responsible for the absence of bombs...

Anyway, I am guessing this problem might solve itself eventually.

Have a blast for me,

Dear Prinzka

In fear of being ridiculed and laughed at by the whole world I have come to you as I fear of my doctor would not keep this secret if I told it. I am a Bull Centaur playing on a high ranking team. I am our main Star player as I in every match inflict more than four injuries and score a least one touch down. Several occasions I have been the main solo reasons as to why our team had won the match. I have been nominated and got several awards. I am treated very well by my team mates, my manager, my apothecary, my chef, my trainer, my personal trainer, my staff, my personal hoof cleaner. Also the girls love me. This is not only Bull Centaur, but of all races. Even a fat little fling wanted to give birth to my babies.

This should be every Blood Bowl players dream right? But this is not for me. Our Coach thought it would be a good idea to play some wood elf teams because they are easy to smash up, as we also did. But we played this deep forest wood elf team named "My little Pony". It was so beautiful, so many little ponies there was. I want to become one. So beautiful and fluffy hair they have. So perfect little hooves they have. So friendly and cute eyes they have. And their tail, it gives me the chillies just to think about it.

So as you might have guessed I want to become one. How do I become one and how can I prevent this news to reach the world?

Please Prinzka, you are my only hope.
Little Pony

It is not often that I am left near-speechless, but this might be the first time. Little Pony, it seems that you are on a crossroads in life. You can either continue with your old ways, and die or retire in true Blood Bowl glory, or you can make the plunge and be the stallion for those little ponies. I happen to know a reasonably adept surgeon who doesn't ask too many questions, and doesn't always screw up the job.

That said, why exactly do you need to become one of them? Would it not be enough to transfer to that team, and continue to be the best Blood Bowl player you can be, but at the same time, surround yourself with these fabulous creatures? Sure, it would be one of the greater scandals in Blood Bowl history, and I am sure many documentaries about you would be aired on Cabalvision, but at least you are following both of your dreams.

Getting ready for some ponystew for dinner,

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