Some would say Pizzaface is the Boss. Others would say Boss isn't quite the word. Don't let his appearance fool you. Sharp as a razor, cold as a Siberian night and full of ambitious malice and rancor. Mastermind would probably describe him better. Even the others won't call him Pizzaface to his ... face. Mr.Quaranto, or just Mr.Q if you know him well. Which not many do for obvious reasons.

Spent 12 years at Sing-Sing back in '32 after he got busted for the Appleby cinnamon heist. It was brilliant, no, perfect in both plan and execution. Everyone knows the weakness came from within. Glicko the goblin was thought trustworthy.

Sources say Glicko, the 'snitch', 'dirty rat', 'rotten greenskin' you have your pick, has fled to the Blood Bowl circuit hoping to avoid Pizzaface's retribution. In hot pursuit, Pizzaface will be content in wreaking wanton destruction upon whoever gets in his way. For now.

Have YOU seen Glicko?

Any selfrespecting crew needs a demolitions expert. With an almost unhealthy obsession for anything that burns or goes boom Savio is just that. While often seen as a hothead and getting overly excited when he gets to 'fire it up' Savio can <i>usually</i> keep his cool when it's needed.

Part of the original crew, but never proven to be directly connected to the Appleby cinnamon heist, Savio only did five years at Sing-Sing together with Mr. Q. After release he hooked up with his childhood friend Mick O'Brien and immediately planned the bustout for Mr. Q.

Half a box of T.N.T. and a hole in a wall later the three were on their way across the sound, with Mick rowing like a madman. The rest of their escape ties in with the meeting of Don Poderoso, but that's <A HREF="http://fumbbl.com/FUMBBL.php?page=player&player_id=1491584">another story</A>.

Savio derived his nickname 'deepfried' on the Blood Bowl pitch against a team suspected of harboring Glicko. The opposition fielded a huge cave troll who proved to be one tough customer. At half time Savio had had enough, and promptly doused the troll in a keg of <A HREF="http://fumbbl.com/FUMBBL.php?page=player&player_id=1491572">Tacito's finest brandy</A> and set fire to it. Which pretty much ended that troll, and made Tacito rather upset.

Mick 'the muscle' O'Brien has always been the crews bruiser. With a permanent threeday stubble and jagged features he certainly looks the role. Large in build (for a halfling) and with an amazing ability at absorbing punishment, but even more so at dealing it out, Mick is the man that knocks on the door when Mr. Quaranto is displeased with you. In short, you do not want to meet Mick on business terms. Certainly not the sharpest tool in the shed, but Mick gets by with his Irish luck and an uncanny knack of rolling with the punches.

Mick made away from the Appleby heist with an unconscious <A HREF="http://fumbbl.com/FUMBBL.php?page=player&player_id=1491573">Spoons</A> slung across one shoulder, and as unconfirmed rumors have it, with at least two full bags of stock bonds across the other.

After laying low for over three months vast amounts of money wanting to be spent finally got the best of Mick. Convincing Tacito to join him did not prove very difficult with the mentions of drinkables, food and women. In an attempt at staying somewhat incognito the halfling duo made the capital mistake of hitting up the <b>least</b> likely of places for a halfling duo, namely Blakka'n'Groffs troll sports bar. The events that transpired that evening is <A HREF="http://fumbbl.com/FUMBBL.php?page=player&player_id=1491572">another story</A>, but as we all know it ended with both Mick and Tacito apprehended.

Mick 'the muscle' O'Brien never did time at Sing-Sing. Instead, the Securizza confined him at the Hexagon HQ. Using every known method they tried to break him and discover the location of his hidden stash. To the interrogators great frustration Mick was impervious to physical pain, and when they turned to mental 'tampering' the frustration only grew as they realized that their drugs, magiks and demons weren't designed to work on someone with the inherent intelligence of grass.

Finally the Securizza placed Mick at the Outland low security camp, hoping that he would escape and return to the hidden stash. <A HREF="http://fumbbl.com/FUMBBL.php?page=player&player_id=1491574">Escape </A> he did, with the help of Potatonose Pedone. Ironically, Mick had totally forgotten where he had hidden the stock bonds. Eventually the Securizza had to call off their surveillance on Mick due to more urgent matters, and thusly Mick returned to his crew.

You'll find Mick in the frontline on the Blood Bowl field with a grin on his face, doing what he was born to do. The ball is just another tool used to hit people with.

Also known as Triple-T, Tacito is well known for his connoseur taste and flair in dress. Usually a gentleman Tacito is mostly pleasant and a hit with the ladies. Fair warning, never question his judgment when it comes to fine drinks. Incidentally, this is how Tacito derived his nickname 'the tumbler' after running amok at Blakka'n'Groffs sports bar.

Reliable accounts tell how a short but heated argument over beer and finer spirits between Tacito and a slightly sloshed dwarven patron finally went overboard. Going into a rage Tacito grabbed the closest smashing weapon, his brandy tumbler, and went for the dwarf.

When police arrived at the scene smashed furniture was still flying out the windows and bar patrons were fleeing in every direction. When it became obvious that Tacito and his drinking partner <A HREF="http://fumbbl.com/FUMBBL.php?page=player&player_id=4065771">Mick 'the muscle' O'Brien</A> was the cause of the ruckus, the Securizza was immediately called in. Blakka'n'Groffs was surrounded, and eight hours later the halfling duo were gassed out of the building.

Tacito still insisted that he get a refill and be allowed to pay his tab before being apprehended. The dwarf was never to be found.

On the bloodbowl pitch Tacito is a brilliant tactician, growing brilliantlerer with e'vry glass a' brandy.... mm wats yer doin' wid dat ball. Arr! *sings* n' what shall we do wit' a drunken halfling... giddiyap! Tacito has rather frequently breathed down orcs twice his size.

At the Bistro Tacito and <A HREF="http://fumbbl.com/FUMBBL.php?page=player&player_id=3741329">Bianca</A> serve the bar. Lacking customers, they are quite content in just doing the bar.

Also known as Doc. Spoons set foot on a Blood Bowl field long before he met any of the others. Initially as an assistant medic for a rookie halfling team (they weren't longlived, not his fault) but soon he rose to the position of chief medic for an up and coming goblin team. Which might sound rather strange, what with goblins and halflings.

Thing is, Spoons fit right in with the goblin mentality. Shall we say, Spoons is a few beers short of his full sixpack. With unkept tufts of white hair, always wearing thick gnomish welding glasses and a pockmarked leather apron he certainly looks the mad doc.

He made a career sewing, sawing and patching up dismembered goblins. In his spare time he worked hard at furthering the brewing techniques of fungus ale. It is quite possible that the constant exposure to fumes is what finally dropped the ball on him.

Nico 'the knife' Nieddo introduced Spoons to the crew, and recommended him as an invaluable resource when it came to scalpels and beer.

At the Bistro Spoons brews the popular Dockside Bellychurner ale and occassionally manage chopping up the meat with extremely oversized cleavers. That is, when Nico hasn't already made confetti of it.

On the Blood Bowl field Spoons engages in pretty much the same activities, but usually has trouble smuggling his arsenal onfield.

Potatonose Pedone's real first name remains a mystery. Truth be told, he doesn't even know himself. What he does know, however, is where <A HREF="http://fumbbl.com/FUMBBL.php?page=player&player_id=4065771">Mick 'the muscle' O'Brien</A> stashed the loot from the Appleby Heist. Potatonose might look like an old bugger, but his head is screwed on as tightly as ever.

Potatonose had been a regular at the Outland low security camp for longer than anyone could remember. On occassion he would bust out just for old times sake. "Just to keep ma skills up" he would always say and blink at you in a knowing way. Now, being an ol' bastard with arthritic and balding feet (never good on a halfling) he rather enjoyed life at the camp, and thusly came sauntering back by friday afternoons when the extra crust of bread was served. "Highlight of the week!" he would exclaim.

Then came Mick. And with Mick came the stories. Stories of brilliant things like heists, avoiding the law, comraderie, ale and excitement. Things Potatonose had once known but forgotten, but now his eyes lit up once again, and a fire started burning inside him.

The uncanny crew bust out a week later, Mick clobbering guards and Potatonose leading the way. Together they made way into the harbor district and soon hooked up with the rest of the crew.

Potatonose was warmly accepted into the gang once it became apparent that he knew everything that Mick had forgotten.