The sun was setting behind the trees as the Great Gobbo sat in front of the two new headstones. Grim Toejam and Nasty Eyepokka both killed in the same day. Gone. He took a hit from his bottle of moonshine. Gone. Like the changing shed that had burned down. Like the only ball they had, blown to smithereens. Like all the other poor lads who lay buried in this cemetery. All Gone. Another hit of moonshine. Gone, and for what? Two pathetic wins? What was the point? A tear rolled down his cheek as he took another swig. I should never have bothered, I should have just let people think that goblins were useless, instead I've gone and proven it! He shivered, it was getting cold now the sun had set, better take another swig. Death seemed to be stalking the Green Tide at the moment. As well as Eyepokka two more rookies had been killed in the game and the subject was on everybody's lips: who's next? Who's next? Doesn't matter. Another gulp of moonshine. We are all going to die anyway, may as well end the suffering now. Was it really only two days ago they were both laughing at me for having a bucket stuck on my head? He shuts his eyes and slowly crumples over. Nigel pads over and gives each tombstone a tender lick before eating the half empty bottle of moonshine and its contents. Gently, ever so gently like a mother crocodile with her newborn, she picks up the unconscious Great Gobbo with her mouth and carries him home, back to the cave. She lays him on the floor by the fire. He looks smaller and older she thinks. She settles down next to him wondering what the future holds for herself, the Great Gobbo and the Green Tide.