“Chapter 11

The rain was coming down so heavily it was hard for Coach Robsson to remember there was ever such a thing as ‘dry’. His players stood morosely out on the pitch, soaked to the skin and ankle deep in soft squelching mud. On the opposite side of the pitch, the Teenage Mutant Ninja Frogs were in their element as only slann could be in such weather. They were hopping effortlessly to and fro, unconcerned by the clinging mud which somehow seemed to refuse to stick to their slimy skin and Robsson just knew it was going to be a long, long afternoon.

And to add injury to insult, the Frogs had hired themselves Helmut Wulf and his chainsaw. With luck, thought Robsson, the pouring rain would interfere with the mechanism and it would fail to start, but somehow, he doubted it. And sure enough, no sooner had the whistle blown to start the match than there came the telltale growl of the machine as Wulf revved it up to full power and took a swipe at The Lion and the Unicorn. The treeman moved surprisingly quickly, twisting so that the blade did nothing more than bite into his armour. But in return he brought down one of his mighty branches, separating man from machine and knocking the hapless human senseless.

“Hmph!” muttered The Lion with satisfaction, and then sent another of the opposing players sprawling into the soft mud with a deft backhand before stepping on him with one of his thick, trunk-like legs. There was a satisfying pop as something gave way beneath him, and then The Lion squelched off to find more victims.

But despite their obvious comfort with the wet conditions, the slann were finding it tough going getting the ball into a good defensive position. Their blocking was weak and the White Men in Black Suits were beginning to dominate the line. Because of the rain, Coach Robsson had decided to abandon the passing game in favour of the slower, but more controllable running game and he decided today would be a good opportunity to give the less flamboyant members of the team a taste of scoring. By the time the half-time whistle blew, both The L&N and Snow (Hey-Oh) had touchdowns to their name and the game was looking comfortably one-sided already.

After the break things continued as before. Both teams struggled to keep hold of the mud-soaked and incredibly slippery ball and the wood elves were once again able to stay together and dominate the centre. But the slann had clearly been given a serious half-time talking-to and they set about showing the wood elves that they could block as well as leap. Their blitzers were especially effective, and while they were unable to cause many injuries, they managed to keep a fair few wood elves sprawling in the mud for much of the half.

At one point, Bullet with Butterfly Wings went down and suddenly found himself surrounded by slann. The action was elsewhere and for the moment he found himself alone and vulnerable.
“Sssso,” hissed one of the slann. “You think it funny to make fun of ssslann kin, eh? We hear you think ssslann are ssstupid and weak.” And with that he slammed a spiked fist down into the defenceless elf’s face. “That isss for our brothersss in Ssslip Ssslap Ssslop. Perhapsss thisss will teach you to ressspect your opponentsss a little more.”

Doc Onholiday was on the scene within seconds in a blur of ointment and bandages. As the slann continued their push towards the endzone, the apothecary was left to minister to the wardancer in peace and after a couple of minutes Bullet with Butterfly Wings staggered to his feet and limped off towards the action.
“You’re welcome,” shouted Doc Onholiday to the departing wardancer. “Any time. No need to thank me. Although a few words of appreciation now and then would be nice.”

The final whistle blew. Within minutes the rain had stopped and the sun came out, but by then the Teenage Mutant Ninja Frogs, and all their fans, had slunk off into the depths of the jungle to like their wounds. The wood elves had held the line and had come away with a 2-0 victory but no one was dry enough to enjoy the moment just yet.
“Come on,” said Coach Robsson. “If we hurry we can just make the evening sailing and avoid having to spend another night in this swamp. And I promise, no more leaping lizards for a while. Let’s get home and play some proper, solid teams.”
Peace Frog, who had spent the last part of the match recovering in the dug-out, raised himself up from his stretcher.
“Just not too solid, okay?”
”