"Wuz a noice game eh coach?"
the visibly proud Torskrak said to his new coach. The teams locker room, if you could call a shed made out of mismatched pieces of driftwood, various stolen housewares and the bodily remains of former Hazzadurrs players a locker room, was full of pride. Goblins cheered, Trolls hummend and Smosk juggled artisticly with the bombs he couldn't seem to throw all game.
asked the new coach quite incredulously. In fact most of what he saw he in the last few hours couldn't quite understand. His team performed horribly and lost the match against Clan MacCraddle 3-1.
"We smash and foul. We cripple. We kill."
mumbled Stomm, who used Smasz Chainsaw to remove bits of beastman remains from his teeth. "Was best game ever for Hazzadurrs."
Neubau couldn't believe his eyes. He was lured into coaching a second team by BIBBL functionaries with the promise of more prestige and a professional team that just needed the right coach to succeed. Rumours of dwarfish franchises searching for coaches intrigued the famous coach of one of CIBBL premier teams, the Tor Anroc Anglers.
"This was a friendly you good-for-nothing goblins. You know there is a Ball, right? You know the goal of the game is to carry said Ball into the endzone?"
"Ball sez whut?"
inquired Zraggok. "Ball?"
added Gnumm, the troll who possibly doesn't even know that he took part in a game.
"This is useless. You are useless. What have i gotten myself into? Why does Mathlann punish me like this, were the offerings not enough?"
As it turned out Neubau's galley to the BIBBL headquarters was just late enough for all the other teams to already have signed other coaches. The Hazzadurrs were left. And now Neubau is stuck with them. The contract he signed was for the league, not a particular team.
"Coach wutz wrong?"
asked Snaszor. "Ya luk disgr- dergrunt- diserun- ... upset."
The only scorer for the Hazzadurrs in yesterdays friendly, or massacre, added eloquently.
"What is wrong? I tell you what is wrong. I am one of the greatest coaches the old world and beyond has seen. My Anglers are a delight for everyone to watch, success follows me where I go. They named a street in Tor Anroc after me. Granted, its 500 feet below the surface of the sea, but it bears my name. And this is the team they give me. This is a joke. You are a joke. But i will make this work. These BIBBL officials think they can stop my dominance? By Mathlann, you are my team and I will lead you to victory!"
The erstwhile quiet room, that is as quiet a room with two towering trolls and thirteen witless goblins can ever be, erupted into jubilation. Stomm threw Skegdo through the room, who caught one of Smosk's stray bombs just in time to throw it out of the window made out of a hollow bed pan. Smasz smashed a table that used to be a cartwheel while doing one with his chainsaw, that he thankfully forgot to turn on. Gnumm looked dreamingly into the nightly sky.
"I can work with this."