OOC: To hell with this framing device. I wanted to develop something that would motivate me to update the player pages for my NSwiki, and it's been going well so far, but it's getting so frickin' hard to tie each player in to the storyline that it's not worth it anymore. I'll still provide OOC links to the NSwiki pages I write every day, if people want to read them, but I'm guessing it would be just for my benefit.When one stands on the freshly-watered green pitch at the Therakham Velodrama, one truly begins to feel as though he is at the bottom of some Central Asian tinpot dictator's
cauldron, though in truth it is merely a football stadium. Perhaps, then, it is the history of the place, and not the outward appearance, that makes it feel so frightening.
Remember that when Pazhujebis first landed on these islands many centuries ago in 269 AD, they were North Indian expellees of the Roman Empire. They recalled fondly their afternoons back in Lusitania, or perhaps Thracia, or even faraway Britannia, spent watching an angry tiger, or hungry crocodile, or sleep-deprived rhinoceros tear apart some helpless peon in a colosseum. So in this, their new home in the far-flung islands of Pazhujebu, they recreated the towering structures of back home as best they could.
Today, only a few such edifices remain. Some are hidden in the vast jungles, long abandoned, whereas others still are in the care of scientists, historians, and other such four-eyes-type individuals. But a pair of these colosseums remain in use for their original intended purpose. One, located in Urajbina, is now known as the Oberlander'ajat Stidiyama. But while the Oberlander'ajat is a beloved venue, its comparative lack of renovation makes it feel more like a charming historical site which hosts football matches as an auxiliary purpose.
The Velodrama, on the other hand...
Once used for chariot racing, its stands turn around the edges of the pitch perfectly in a violent oval. They are so steep that if one loses his step on his way up or down, he risks a catastrophic fall that would send shivers down the spine of your average nursing home resident. And since the stadium's technological overhaul and renovation, now some seven or eight years ago... well... it is a marvel to behold, we must say.
Woe betide the player who, too faint of heart, trembles in his silly-looking purple and pink boots in the dressing room as he hears the hoard baying nastily up above. For not only did he pay four times what he should have for those stupid effete shoes (what is it, Breast Cancer Awareness Month? take those dumb things off), but he shall feel as though ten thousand screeching vultures are descending upon his sorry buttocks as he leaves that tunnel. The fans here, who upon many a weekend afternoon have screamed the ability of speech from their vocal chords in support of their club
Therakham, are capable of making a hostile player's life a veritable hell.
So when Antoine Long was out on the town in New Montreal some nights ago, engaging in somewhat-uncouth courting behaviors with mysterious hypothetical red-head chicks, he ought to have reminded himself that allowing himself to be photographed in a dumpster was, in addition to being the nadir of what might have been an otherwise enjoyable evening, a less than inspired decision with regard to these fans.
Just before the referee blew his shiny black whistle to signify the start of the match, a great banner was unfurled by the cruel Urchins supporters, displaying the image of our dear Paladins' center back asleep in that trash bin, his face adjacent to a decaying raccoon corpse. Captioning the picture were the words:
ANTOINE LONG, SHAME OF NEW MONTREAL STATES.
Amongst this crowd of heartless fanatics were three general ruffians, one of whom our readers may be
duly familiar with.
"Hey Mikhail, aren't you glad you quit your job at Quadrant Five Pizza to come here with us?"
"Absolutely. Besides, ever since Emiliaja left me I've wanted to get the hell out of Fatezh... reminds me too much of her. Though my author (if there was one, old friend, ha-ha-ha) would do well to remember that Mahathu is Emmy's hometown, so why the hell would I come here to get away from her? It doesn't make sense!"
"I don't know, man, you're getting a little too postmodern for me. Maybe you just came here because you drink too much?"
"Ah, that's right! I drink too much!"
"Plus maybe you just want to see the Urchins beat the hell out of New Montreal States."
"Totally! That too!"
"Awesome. Well, now that we've sorted all that confusing and boring expository crap out, how awesome was that banner we just held up?"
"On a scale of one to ten? Six!"
"Wait, what?"
"Scale of one to te- oh... I'm dumb. Eleven!"
"You sir, have already drank too much, and it's only the first minute."
"Probably."
"But anyway, yeah, eleven! Fuck you, New Montreal States!"
And so at this point Mikhail, his friends, and various other hooligans assembled in the same began chanting various insulting things at the kind Paladins, who aside from being satanic vermin that were standing in the way of our beloved Urchins in their noble quest for World Cup 58 qualification, were probably perfectly nice people undeserving of such abusive treatment. For an example of said abuse, see Exhibit A, a 2nd-minute chant issued by the Kagdazka and Pazhujebu supporters that went as follows, to the tune of 'The Wheels on the Bus Go 'Round and 'Round.'
Emperor Boston was right about you, right about you, right about you.
Emperor Boston was right about you,
Eat a salty d^$k.This torrent of inappropriate language, the likes of which would normally be relegated to the mens' room of a 1980s-era Las Vegas casino, was happily interrupted by Pwim Charbonneau, who scored a goal just seconds into the match. While this might have been a happy moment for the side, Eduard Winogradsky was up to no good as he was surreptitiously 'flicking the V' at Antoine Long, who for God's sake had been through enough already.
The fans quickly recovered from their shame-induced hibernation, and within minutes had developed this lyrical gem, sung to the tune of an unknown polka:
What kind of name is Pwim?
Sounds like the name of a gambling site.
What kind of name is Pwim?
Maybe your parents were just really high,
When they gave you your name.
Or maybe, oh maybe your [sic]
just GAY GAY GAYAll ye assembled story-hearers will be happy to hear, however, that this flood of homophobia would soon be interrupted by a sixth-minute goal (scored by Peregrina Thašighi, who is, ironically enough, a lesbian). Overwhelmed with joy, the hysterical mob at the Velodrama began to flail about, pouring countless ounces of perfectly good (or, as the case might be, not-so-good) beer on each others' heads, which, rather pathetically, they all thought was quite amusing. We return to Mikhail and his friends, who shamelessly participated in this watered-down version of a Golden Shower.
"YEAHHAHAHAHEEEAH!!!!!!!!!!!! YEAAAHAHHAHHGAHAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Not much going on there. Let us all, at this point, forgive these assembled maniacs, for most of them were (and are still) Therakham supporters, and we must not forget that the goalscorer Thašighi is a former Terrors player and is still much beloved at the club.
And so, with the scores now level, these borderline-mentally-unstable individuals, who serve as both our protagonists and antagonists here, finally all settled down enough to begin this enthusiastic hymn:
We love you Peregrina, we do!
We love you Peregrina, we do!
We love you Peregrina, we do...
Oh, Peregrina, we love you!Hmm. There are two too many syllables in that word. Ah well, we must not be too judgmental, dear reader, for all these persons are, recall if you will, drunk off their asses. And possibly blazed off their asses as well. At any rate, the actual football being played was, we are sorry to say, going in favor of the Paladins for most of the first half. This being the unfortunate case, the fans over there in the north-northeast curve simply returned to harassing Antoine Long for his dumpster escapades. They didn't even bother to stop singing when NMS pulled back ahead, for they had just recently invented a not-terribly-original-but-still-marginally-entertaining ditty, entitled 'Your Trash Is My Drug,' a re-envisioning of the popular Top 40 hit by Kesha (no dollar-sign means no lawsuit).
It really wasn't even good, but it was enough for the fans to get a good laugh at Long's expense, which was not good for the poor lad because his self-esteem was already in... well... the dumpster. Metaphorical in this case, of course.
But anyway, half time arrived, and the scenes at the Therakham Velodrama were very much like those in the immediate post-Roman times... that is to say that everyone went to defecate into glorified crude oil drums under highly unsanitary conditions. Again, for these people to get on Antoine Long's case about sleeping in a dumpster... well, 'hypocrisy' wasn't strong enough a word. We now rejoin Mikhail and the Neighborhood, fresh off of
not washing their hands as they left the toilet house:
"Why the hell are we a goal behind, Mikhail?"
"Because we've been horrible. I've seen my
uncle's white labrador make better tackles on the annoying kid who lives down the street! How the hell are we going to sort this out?"
"Maybe we can make some substitutions."
"Our manager is that moron Palšikar, though, remember! Erassi won't be back until our next game! So we're stuck with Señor Relegación until then! And you can bet he'll make some bone-headed decisions!"
Fortunately, our rather soused amigo Mikhail was incorrect, for From the Darkness Came a Great Light, and His Name Shall Be Calleth... Hridayaja Durai? Really? Didn't he just come off a crap-tastic performance last week against Lizland?
Why yes, imaginary voice in my head, he did. Luckily, he apparently had his act together on this fine evening, since he assisted for Chalia Sajid's equalizer, drew a penalty (which Lyonya Filipov heart-breakingly missed), and scored the winner himself fifteen minutes from time.
Oh, how the usually anti-Durai Terrors fans reversed their opinions at the sight! Nominally, Durai is a hated enemy of all things Therakham, since he used to play for Kuratmad Angels, and those unfamiliar with football in Kagdazka and Pazhujebu are best informed that Therakham and Angels
hate each other. Miraculously, and in a rather heartwarming fashion, the black-and-blue faithful in attendance put aside their partisan differences and began singing the song their rival Angels supporters had sung all during Durai's last match for the Red and Blue:
Durai, we want you to stay, we want you to stay!
Oh, f%&k Zhevassi, we want you to stay!And let this be to you a weirdly-unrelated-to-the-previous-subject-matter lesson, dear reader: Everyone Hates Zhevassi.
But, if you wanted incoherent advice on something, you'd go visit your 90-year-old great-grandfather and ask him about race. The real moral of our story is not so much a moral as it is a sad story of decline; for if Antoine Long thought waking up in a dumpster was bad, he needed only wait until the end of ninety minutes, when the home fans could be heard mocking him:
Antoine Long, score a goal, score a goal, score a gooo-ooo-oal.
Antoine Long, score a goal, score a goal, score a gooo-ooo-oal.Understandably, a distraught Long was later heard speaking to the media who, in large part due to the Pazhujebi fans' behavior, were now utterly convinced that Long was a habitual occupant of trash bins, dumpsters, and other unsanitary housing implements. He was in fact so upset that he mistakenly identified his one-time tormentor Eduard Winogradsky as the man responsible for scoring the three goals that sunk his Paladins, though quite clearly his attributions were fallacious.
3 - 2 Venue: Therakham Velodrama, Mahathu, Pazhujebu
Attendance: 52,000
Referee: Geoff Ridge (Sarzonia)
Man/Woman of the Match: Hridayaja Durai (Kagdazka and Pazhujebu)
ManagersKagdazka and Pazhujebu: Oghu'ghabuzheh Palšikar
New Montreal States: 8 Faceless Ministry of Morale Bureaucrats
SquadsKagdazka and Pazhujebu: Voropaev; Bhara (Makureru 75'), Qathif'ajuju, Mizirov (Durai 56'); Razava,
Ogorodov,
Winogradsky, Thašighi; Oujadda, Filipov (Šeruthuvu 75'), Sajid
New Montreal States: É. Thibault; Long, Taylor (Jones-Mercier 83');
Brisebois, L. Thibault (
de la Ware 45'), Ponder, Charbonneau, Vaillancourt-Bosquet, Archer (St-Zotique 62'); Ed, Roy
GoalsKagdazka and Pazhujebu: Thašighi 6', Sajid 58', Durai 78'
New Montreal States: Charbonneau 2', Brisebois 26'
Next MatchOpponent: The Babbage Islands
Venue: Whitecliff Stadium, Dover, The Babbage Islands
K&P's Projected Starting XI: Voropaev; Bhara, Qathif'ajuju, Mizirov; Razava, Ogorodov, Winogradsky, Thašighi; Oujadda, Filipov, Sajid
Referee: Kalvin Keppelheimer (Cosumar)