“Today was a good day.

Hakk'on had been challenged by one of the few legitmate druchii teams floating in the league, and an assistant coach had recognised Spittle's multiflorous blood splattered mohawk. "Where's that bloated excuse for a druchii you once called lover you despicable hellion." he called across the pitch, not hearing her whispered prayer offering his innards up to Khaela Mensha Khaine after the game.

Obviously upset by this stab at Hakk'on, Spittle took her game to the next level, punching her way through the lines of druchii like they were skittles. Scoring the teams only two touchdowns she also took great delight in throwing opposing players into the crowd under what can only be described as drug induced psychosis.

Through a combination of factors, mainly Spittle, the Tender Humans had pulled of a crowd-pleasing second victory, proving the first wasn't a fluke and although Hakk'on believed that winning isn't everything, he still took guilty pleasure in it. Obviously the players realised this and before Hakk'on knew it he had given permission for three of his better players to have the next game off. He snapped out of his happy trance to catch a glimpse of Spittle as she strode towards the altar holding two dripping handfuls of innards. "I hope you asked before you took those honey." he inquired knowing the likelihood of an answer was about as hopeless as the real owner's prognosis.”