Some days have passed since the humiliating loss against the amazon Crossdressers. The Agility Monsters have gathered in the locker room of their training pitch.
Namosz: Folks, listen up! Head coach's got something to say!
Bjerk: Oh really?
Namosz: Oh really. And it's about you! Well, at least partly.
Dorfort: <to Ungor> That doesn't sound good...
Ungor: N-nope. It d-d-doesn't!
Head Coach Rabe: Guys, I have thought about this team... really hard, you know? You're awsome. But not all of you. And we lose heavily. Games and fans. Well, we got outbashed by girl...men. Whatever--
Bjerk: Those guys were totally confusing! And halfly naked! I... I didn't know where to punch them!!
Ramnah: <giggles>
Bjerk: Not so funny that, man! ...Lady!
Ramnah: <bursts into hoarse laughter>
Namosz: <gently pats Ramnah's shoulder>
Head Coach Rabe: <seriously> Yes, they were confusing. No, not an excuse. They won, we lost. We are out of the GLT. The GLT!! You know what was at stake there?!
Bjerk: Ehm... A newspaper feature?
Ramnah: <grunts und points at Bjerk> That... that face right now... on a front page... <shaken with laughter>
Head Coach Rabe: <more than slightly annoyed> Please...
Ramnah: Sorry, it's just that old... that old gender thing Bjerk and I got going, you know!
Bjerk: <stars at Ramnah> You son of a--
Ramnah: Daaaaughter! <giggles again>
Head Coach Rabe: SHUT UP NOW!! ALL OF YOU!!! BEFORE I GET TO FIVE EXCLAMATION MARKS!!!!
Silence.
Head Coach Rabe: Thanks. <pauses> Well, no chance on winning the GLT, no chance on getting the allowance to have an actual elf on the team. That's it. I'm not going to tolerate this any longer - getting knocked out every major tournament in the first round.
Brumbas: <mumbling> We better don't... Next time Nuffle will let us play against halflings...
Namosz: Shhhh...
Exclamation marks!
Head Coach Rabe: <stares at Brumbas, then turns to the whole team again> I thought about it. I talked to Namosz, Groin and Ramnah, took their advice. I made a decision.
Bjerk: <looks around and scratches his head>
Head Coach Rabe: You all know we had kind of a "no-one gets fired" policy. This changes now.
Duane: <confused> But the contract...
Brom: <whispers> Read the fine print!
Head Coach Rabe: We went through the whole team and there are actually three among you, that didn't really prove themself. In fact, I see them as a liabilty. By this time, Groin is already on his way, scouting for talents.
Some mumbling arises.
Head Coach Rabe: <speaks up> Those three are Nomril, Duane and Bjerk--
Duane: What?! <jumps up> I'll get my contract! Right now!
Namosz: <holds Duane back with ease>
Head Coach Rabe: ...however, there
is kind of a grace period. <gives Namosz a sign>
Namosz: <steps in front of his teammates again> You all know, Nomril has served our team very well for a long time. He joined us after our fifth game, earlier than many of you. He's in bad shape now, as everyone can see. <points at the sleeping slayer covered in bandages> He is not only a bloodbowl player, but a troll slayer. If a slayer enters the pitches, his intention is to die there.
Head Coach Rabe: We can't just dismiss him. He has a right, we accepted that when we accepted him in our team. Therefore he may stay with the team until he finds his destiny... at least for the next five games.
Duane: His oath gives him rights but our contract doesn't...? He may stay and we have to--?!
Namosz: For this period, Duane and Bjerk can stay if they like to. You will accompany Nomril on the line of scrimmage. If you want to leave, you're free to do so. You might even be able to prove yourself, but it won't be easy.
Bjerk: Bah! A true dwarf never gives in, never surrenders! I'll fight! And I'll get you guys to want me to stay! Bah! <spits onto the floor>
Duane: <calm but cold> I'll check the contract and get some feedback from my clan agent. You know, we Bloodeaters have kind of a decent reputation since ol' Krom died...
Head Coach Rabe: You'll both be free to leave after every game. Just make your decision quick when time comes. <rushes towards the door>
Brumbas: Things are gonna change, eh?
Brom: Seems like it.
Head Coach Rabe: <turns around> By the way, I applied us to the next Scheduled SMACK. I mistrust so-called friendly games! <leaves>
Brumbas: Well, some things don't...
Rhoda: <jumps up and shouts> Agility Monsters will be victorious again!
No reaction from the rest of the team.
Brom: I'm gonna practice my leaping skills...