August 7th: Turtles 2 (1) - Miramar Rangers 1 (0)
By John "Boy"O'Donnell
SCREEN
PLAY FOR “LORD OF SCORING”
The fourth part of the “Lord of the
Rings” story series. Set a couple of generations after the “Return of the King”.
In this story the forces of darkness
defeated many generations previously are regaining their strength. A new
Fellowship must be formed from the descendants of the original fellowship. They
must gather together and travel to the distant lands to fight on the fields of
the enemy. This time though it is not a ring that is the cause of the problems.
It is a ball that can wreck havoc and devastation on those who have it trapped
in their net that they must bring onto the battlefield. Hence the two great
armies must confront each other on the battlefield, and by scoring the ball into
the other sides goal, leave the opponent trapped with the implement of their own
destruction.
THE FELLOWSHIP OF THE TURTLES
The new Fellowship is known as The
Fellowship of the Turtles. They have taken the Turtle as the symbol of their
endeavours due to their slow and deliberate movements, their staunch and
reliable nature, the strength of their shell that they carry as protection, and
their ability to pull their heads in at the first sign of trouble. The
Fellowship wears white - as symbol of their pure intentions and hearts – and
black – as a reminder of the darkness that will follow if they should fail in
their quest.
WAS-HARDS (descended from the WIZARDS)
GrandDuff the Copper
(descended from Gandalf the Grey) [played by Murray Coppersmith]
The wizened old master of his trade. The
head honcho of the fellowship. The last line of defence. The Big man. Known to
get his hardened and whittled staff out every so often, presumably to produce a
piece of magic. Sometimes though he brings it out as a prop for the sagging old
body that has seen so many a battle, and occasionally just occasionally at the
“Was-Hards” Christmas party to really impress the latest Personal Assistant (was
it Candy or Mandy or Randy or Handy ?) with the power and potency of the tricks
he can do with his mighty staff.
GoalDolf the Green
(also descended from Gandalf the Grey) [played by John O’Donnell]
Reluctant apprentice of the “GrandDuff”.
Still very green in learning any of the skills or talents of the revered master
of this trade – such artisanial specialities as “the Harbour Bridge Profiling”,
“the Thin Air Grab”, “the Third Ball through the Legs”, and “the Stuck to the
Line”. Has not been given access to the wonders of the use of the magic staff by
his master. Expect the worst when the GoalDolf is around.
WHORE-BITS (descended from the HOBBITS)
Phildo BigUns
(descended from Bilbo and Frodo Baggins) [played by Phil Langridge]
When the ladies get to see him from side
on, they are always heard to remark that he’s got a “big un”. It is assumed that
they are referring to his proboscisal extremetalia.
Zildo Buggings
(also descended from Bilbo and Frodo Baggins) [played by Darrin Wilkinson]
Can be a pesky little critter as he nibs
around the legs and ankles of the opposition, where they find themselves unable
to swat him away. Stays low to the ground then on
attack, and sometimes in the bogs and swamps of the fields may disappear from
view.
Slimwise Gangly
(descended from Samwise Gamgee) [played by Chris Lavis]
Tall, lean, angular, athletic.
Everything a “Whore-Bit” isn’t supposed to be. May have been on some form of
cross-breeding program with the “Spent trees” (refer later). Doesn’t know
whether to promise to never leave the side of “Phildo” or “Zildo” - who
themselves seem to have some sort of kindred attachment to “GoalLame” and his
goal scoring travails - so can often be seen to stray to the farthest corners of
the field in search of one of his two promised ones.
PopIn
(descended from Pippin) [played by Steve Langridge]
Appears every so often. You never know
when he will pop in for another game.
Merely Murray
(descended from Merry) [played by Murray McIlraith]
Enough said.
GoalLame
/ ItsMeGoal (descended from Gollum / Smeagol) [played by Paul Kyne]
A dual personality, excised from the
typical “Whore-bit”, by unabashed cravings for sco-ring. Proved as impotent as a
transvestite in scoring, for a length of time that would be ascribed to other
players whole careers. In regards to goal scoring in this time, could be heard
to say such things “We wants it”, “My precious”. When he was gifted a goal by
the beneficence and inscrutability of “TheOddOne” (refer later), was heard for
the next eternity to be running around screaming, again and again “Its Me Goal”.
The taste of scoring seems only to have deepened the wanton licentious cravings
for more, as he has been known to run around large lakes non-stop in some
frenzied mania to find again “What we wants”.
BOTTOM SHELVES (descended from the ELVES)
Legless
(descended from Legolas) [played by Gary Spratt]
Used to be the sharp shooter, firing
away at great speed with great accuracy. These days it is a mute point as to
whether he can’t run on his legs anymore, whether legs were ever there to start
with, or whether the local beverages have finally won their battle over him.
AahWho?
(descended from Arwen) [played by Tim ?]
Who was that man ?
DWARFS (descended from the DWARFS)
Gamely
(descended from Gimli) [played by Andrew Watson]
The smallest chap in the fellowship, but
courageous and swift. Has a stout heart, ale-ing stomach, good beer-ing, and is
lager than life.
LATE NIGHTS OF GONE-DOWN (descended from the
KNIGHTS of GONDOR)
AridGlen
/ Striker (descended from Aragorn / Strider) [played by Glen Wilkinson]
Used to be a great goal scorer in his
former days as “Striker”, but seems to be having a bit of a dry run on the goals
front.
FairHairMare
(descended from Faramir) [played by Simon Law]
The bronzed and brutal one with the
golden locks flowing in the breeze, terrorising the opposition with the power,
potency and vigour of his defences. For the opposition stallions that roam the
fields of battle, it is as if he was something from their worst night-mare, as
he kicks and bucks away the unfortunate suitors who wish to mount his throne.
BareItMore
(descended from Boromir) [played by Terry Hills]
The second part of the Bronzed Warrior
Duet that shuts out the opposition, either using the direct approach with their
brutal vigorous defence, or the indirect approach by flaunting their Adonis-like
physical perfectitudes in a way that bedazzles the opposition into a wimpering
cocooned state vested of a physical inferiority complex. “BareItMore” has been
known though to go too far on occasions, fairly much baring it all as he flexes
and flaunts to vast crowds left spellbound by the experience.
DonAFur
(descended from Denethor) [played by Steve Hambleton]
Was gifted a cloak for displays of great
courage and strength, by the Orangutan tribes of Borneo which he has donned ever
since. They made the cloak in his honour from the ginger coloured fur pelt of
some creature prized for its virility and intelligence, that hides out in the
jungles in their distant lands. At least that is his story. Confounds his
compatriots by obstinately refusing to ever take the cloak off, as he believes
it may diminish the powers that have been bestowed upon him.
ROUGH RIDERS OF RAW-HAND (descended from the
RIDERS of ROHAN)
AyeOimEre
(descended from Eomir) [played by Gordie]
The celtic accented one, who wants every
one to know where he is, so that he can get the ball from them, and not give it
back.
AyeOiWin
(descended from Eowyn) [played by Gordie]
Presumed to be the sister of “AyeOimEre”
given the similarity in looks, only discernibly different due to the tartan
dress she wears as she dances around singing the praises of her victory.
SquirmTongue
(descended from Wormtongue) [played by Roger Kinsella]
Renowned through the lands, as the
purveyor of the most asinine astringent verbal repast available in any
situation. Has been known to reduce those of tenderer constitutions to squirming
quivering wrecks. Any lashing from this verbal repastor is to be avoided at all
costs. Even the mighty “BareItMore” and “FairHairMare” have been known to writhe
upon receiving a lashing from his tongue when they have been parading their
wares in front of him.
TheOddOne
(descended from Theoden) [played by Glenn Tims]
Apparently was a prominent and respected
Ruler at one time, but as a result of an inadvertent and unfortunate meandering
into the firing sights of the aforementioned “SquirmTongue”, was observed to
change skin colour, to sprout baby worms from the chin, and to develop a squint
in the eyes. Now he spends his days in a daze, drifting from one position to
another to another out on the field, never finding a home, but always trying to
distance himself from the laconic lair of the mighty “SquirmTongue”.
SPENT TREES
(descended from the ENT TREES)
ThreadBared
(descended from TreeBeard) [played by Grant Coppersmith]
Was once himself on the field of battle,
though unfortunately for him was threadbare in the skills department necessary
for requisite performance on the field. In his playing days, he was part of the
tall timber at the back, but tended to be rooted to the spot. Finally he manage
to twig to the fact he needed to branch out and leave the field, to a place
where now he has managed to log up more games on the sideline than all the
players actually on the field bar one. Unfortunately again, his skills here as a
medicine man, come trainer, come, manager, come drinks maker are yet again
threadbare.
THE
FORCES OF DARKNESS
Most of the old adversaries have
reappeared on the battlefield for the forces of darkness. They are coloured
black and blue from the pains of their previous battles. They are gathering for
battle in the wastes of MordorMar.
WRONG-REFS
(descended from RING WRAITHS)
They make a screeching sound every so
often as they hold rule over the battle, with a tendency to favour their own
kind.
GOAL-TROLL
(descended from CAVE TROLL)
A large prehistoric creature who fills
the goal and batters away all balls that are fired at him.
WALLY-FLAUNTS
(descended from OLIPHAUNTS)
Large pendulous beasts who seek to block
and smash those of the Fellowship that may venture towards the goal. Act as last
line of defence.
DORCS
(descended from ORCS)
Loathsome mutants that rampage around
the battle field, sometimes defending and sometimes attacking. Not known for
their intelligence or conviviality.
IRKSOME-GUYS
(descended from IROUQHAI)
The up-front attackers of the forces of
darkness, seeking to score the ball into the goal of the Fellowship, so that the
forces of good may be destroyed. They are difficult aggressive beasts, hard to
stop, and prone to cunning.
THE BATTLE
The Fellowship ventured out of their
homes in the West, and gathered for their journey into the Eastern lands. They
passed beyond Mount Doom the former stronghold of Lord SourOne, that since has
been named Mount VictoryAh to commemorate his prior defeat. They scrambled
through the Dead Marshes of KillBurnFlee where scorched earth tactics by the
Dark Forces had wrecked the land. Then it bode the Fellowship ill to finally
pass through the Black Gates and onto the battle field of MordorMar.
But the travels had been difficult and
many had been lost on the way. Phildo BigUns was last seen nosing around the
Dead Marshes before disappearing. Legless lived up to his name and got smashed
somewhere. BareItMore stumbled upon some Greek temptress with her-ropee and got
all tied up as he strutted his stuff to her muscle gorged licentious gaze.
AyeOimEre and AyeOiWin ran off together in some incestuous tangle trumpeting
each others bagpipes. But worst of all was the sidetracking of GrandDuff the
Copper, the leader of the Fellowship. He ran off saying he had problems with his
Staff, leaving the Fellowship none the wiser as to whether he was talking about
his Personal Assistant, his Magic tricks, his reproductive prowess, or all three
combined.
The battle began with cut and thrust and
parry as both sides sought to deliver the ball into the others goal. Early on
SquirmTongue tripped over the delivery of one of his epeegrams and caught with
his tongue in the marshlands, allowed one of the IrksomeGuys through on goal.
GoalDolf the Green remembering the immortal words of his master the mighty
GrandDuff, quivered and quavered in a jellified falsetto “You Shall Not Pass”.
He wanted to ram a staff into the ground to add impact as his master would have
done, but realised there wasn’t time now to dick around. So GoalDolf flailed his
arms as though casting a spell to the four winds (and particularly the big
Northerly) and as luck would have it the IrksomeGuy hit the ball straight into
his left arm. The first signs of danger were over for now.
Meantime SquirmTongue picked up the
pieces of his game and his fallen Lingua Lickulator, and thereafter bestrode the
defensive end of the field with a performance of assuredness and conviction.
PopIn managed to pop up on defence on the left, the right, and sometimes both
left and right simultaneously. TheOddOne managed to get the odd one in at the
back, in the middle and up front. It was definitely going to be a cameo
performance from him as he kept changing positions as fast as a politician
eyeing the mid-term election polls. The thought ran through his head that maybe
he could remain distant enough from the SquirmTongue. And the mighty
FairHairMare reared up against the oncoming Dorcs and IrksomeGuys, kicking and
pawing the ground in defiance of their charges.
Zildo Buggings and Gamely were finding
some space on the flanks. Merely Murray and AridGlen were involved in
hand-to-hand, nose-to-nose and foot-to-foot combat in the middle of the park and
hence were building their familiarity with the Dorcs. GoalLame continued to seek
his precious. At the other end of the field SlimWise Gangly kept rising up above
the WallyFlaunts to use his head on goal. But as with his favourite pornstar
Dirk Diggler, he used his head at the critical moment to keep shooting over
rather than shoot in.
The battle continued to rage forwards
and backwards, with neither side getting any ascendancy, but both sides having
opportunities. Then near the halfway stage of the battle a crucial yet
unobvious, incendiary yet quiet, provocative yet calm, quixotic yet reasoned,
pervasive yet minor, stupefying yet bland, prescient yet timely, pivotal yet
uncomplicated decision was made. DonAFur who had been playing in defence was not
feeling himself, not feeling any Dorcs, not feeling part of the battle, and was
generally unfeeling. So he felt it was time to take himself off the field, and
so he ginger-ly left. But the Fellowship had made him Leader after the staff
problems of GrandDuff had removed the WasHard from the battle. DonAFur felt it
was time to be decisive, to be the Leader that he could be. So he sought
inspiration as he pulled his honourary fur pelt about him, and he fur-nished the
plan to return to the fur-nace of battle, in the way that could best fur-ther
the cause of the Fellowship. He would be the Refuree.
And true to matters of great
inspiration, DonAFur discerned a moment most portentous near the three quarter
mark of the battle. The Fellowship had been under siege for a long time, but
they made a rare incursion into the opposition area. So it was time for DonAFur
to act. He deemed that one of the WallyFlaunts had used a hand on the ball near
to their goal. As DonAFur well knew a WallyFlaunt doesn’t have hands, only tusks
and a trunk to use on his balls. Hence this must be a penalisable offence, and
so countenancing no objection he pointed to the spot, with total conviction that
he was the deified arbiter of all things good and pure and wholesome. Cometh the
moment, cometh the Dwarf. Gamely gamely stepped forward, and cajoled the ball
into the corner of the net.
The Fellowship was finally in the
ascendancy, but this merely served to drive the Forces of Darkness into frenzied
action. They exerted wave after wave after wave upon the Fellowship. If they
weren’t who they were, it would have been possible to admire and respect the
quality of their performance. Every time the Fellowship got the ball, they
MordorMar beasts would get it back immediately. They would then surge forward on
the left, surge forward on the right, and surge forward down the middle. They
had more Serge than a French rugby team. Shots reigned in from everywhere and
despite the greatest courage and efforts of the Fellowship, a shot snuck through
high into the upper corner of the goal.
Would the opposition relax having
finally prevailed after so much effort. No. The beasts of MordorMar kept
attacking, and it seemed as if they wished to blast the Fellowship to far off
over the seas of the West never to return. Even the WallyFlaunts were looking to
get involved in the attacks. Then in a moment that stupefied the senses, the
senseless, the sensible and the sensational, the Fellowship suddenly broke out
of their own half of the field with the ball. Gamely scurried as fast and as far
as he could go up the left flank. A WallyFlaunt had finally turned and was
bearing down on him. Gamely looked up to just discern the match like figure of
SlimWise Gangly had come upfield with him yelling “I’ll never leave you Mister
Gamely”. Maybe he’d had enough of Phildo and Zildo by this stage, and was after
some other WhoreBit action. Who knows but none the less he was there. Gamely
calmly remembered SlimWise Gangly’s efforts with his head in the first period,
and so decided to give the ball to him at the feet instead. The Goal Troll was
unbalanced – and generally of a fragile mental predisposition – and SlimWise
calmly and assuredly slotted the ball past him into the goal.
The delirium amongst the Fellowship was
unabashed. Even ThreadBared managed to erupt beyond his normal chortle, only to
break down and turn to seed. The Goal would be one of only two times in the
second period that the Fellowship would have the ball in sight of the opposition
goal and they had managed to score both times. In a fit of pique the Forces of
Darkness replaced DonAFur with one of their WrongRefs they managed to extricate
from some underground hole, but the damage had already been done.
Yet there was still time for the beasts
of MordorMar, and so the Forces of Darkness trammelled forward again. However
the Fellowship was now prepared to lay down their lives - and lay down their
wives if they ever got out of here. They defended strongly, stoicly, staunchly
and - in the cases of some of the WhoreBits - shortly. Attack after attack
blasted at their defences. SquirmTongue invoked the Verbal Repastor in himself
and let the Dorcs know who they were. GoalDolf flailed and flagellated anything
that looked like a ball coming his way. FairHairMare galloped like a mighty
Stead into the opposition waves. The Late Nights of GoneDown wouldn’t go down.
The Bottom Shelves picked themselves up and made for the top shelves of
performance. The WhoreBits wouldn’t prostitute themselves to giving up. And the
Rough Riders of Raw Hand got rougher with anything they could lay their
calloused and warted hands upon.
Finally to the relief of one and all and all for one, the battle was over.
MordorMar was vanguished, though not extinguished. And the Fellowship prevailed.
Yet they had to acknowledge the qualities of the opposition. And were left in no
doubt that this would not be the final battle. They would have to return, and
fight again on these fields. But for now they could relax and enjoy their mead,
as they contemplated the extraordinary courage and effort and tenacity they had
procured to win the days battle.
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