“øberüber FC patried hard the night before the big game. They had invited some Bloosweiser Babes to the match, to help them through am inevitably painful afternoon. Instead, the ladies came over the night before and drank, and drank, and drank. When the team finally showed up on the pitch, they found that the babes were nowhere to be seen, but three complete strangers (one with a chainsaw, one carrying a sack of bombs and some noname bum) were - a little confused - waiting in the dug-out wearing their team colors. Vague memories came back of some bets that were made in the bad the night before. Apparently Herr Schlichenbraucher von Hausbrauchenson had traded some key spots on the team for a few pint of lager. The new players hadn't heard that weapons are - by new silly BB rules - forbidden, so they were sent of after the first drive when the ref mustered up enough courage.

The additions to the team threw off the Marksmen enough that their usually stellar passing and dodging turned into something of Khemrian quality. After the 2-0 the game seemed all but over, but a stray Marksman managed to slither her way through the steaming Norse lines with a 2-1 as result. With the hangover slowly fading, the rookie stranger managed to catch a handover and made for the end zone (the right end zone by pure luck).

The boys are hoping to celebrate their win with the lost babes. Alas, they are nowhere to be found. The Ubers' wallets neither, come to think of it. ”