TEAM BIO

Norbert Slightfoot had been in the job long enough, and had taken so many samples, that he was used to the wait. Waiting was fine. He had eaten before leaving, but he had also brought a packed lunch. However, he had already finished his third and last pork pie, and the queue had not noticeably moved.

His job in the OWADA (Old Word Anti Doping Agency) had taken him to many far off places, and his standing, however short it may be, had always gotten the respect from the teams. One of the new teams had setup in an abandoned windmill by the river, and this was where he had been sent to to test the players. He had learned all the tricks on how to get the important samples, always polite and discrete. Always got results. Generally the players kept it clean, not like the old days where they had used every substance under the sun.

He looked around the rest of the people in the queue, snaking towards a giant grey unremarkable building where loud repetitive music came from. He had seen several pills and bags of powder exchange hands, which he sniffed and tutted at, but patiently ignored. None of them were Blood Bowl players, so they could do what they like as far as he was concerned. Behind closed doors mind…

4 hours later, Norbert had moved to the front of the queue. The music was louder, he could feel it in his stomach, or maybe that was the rumbling from inside, knowing that he had had to skip 3 meals while waiting. A hulk of a man in a trench coat was standing in his way, and when Norbert looked up, he saw the piercings and the giant tattoo on his face. The man grunted something that sounded like ‘feefeel?’. Norbert didn’t understand, so produced his card. The man studied it, looked at him, grunted, and moved aside. Norbert walked triumphantly inside, only to be hit by a wall of music and smoke. He coughed and staggered around until he found somebody who wasn’t dancing, and asked where the Player’s Room was. When he answered, Norbert saw that her tongue was split, his eyes changed colour, and the chest, well, missed something. “Down” she said. “Do you want me to take you there?” she….he…they said. Norbert was confused, but only for a short while. He was a professional, and ignored the ma…la…person, and the thoughts tugging at the side of his mind.

He walked down some stairs, past the pink tiled toilets where he heard strange grunts, screams, and clicks. He opened the door marked “Changing Rooms” and stepped into darkness. He fumbled about, touching the wall for support, but occasionally touching something he didn’t want to think about. “Excuse ME, I am from the OWADA, and I am here to take your samples for testing”. A luring voice whispered by his ear “Of course Mr Slightfoot, just wait right here”. A few seconds passed and then a door in the ceiling opened, and he could vaguely make out pink tiles. Warm drops splattered onto his head, slowly turning into several streams, accompanied by melodic evil laughter.

Norbert sighed, pulled out some test tubes, and held them up in the air.