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Halfling Redwood's Folly (GDS)

Discussion in 'Team Blogs' started by dubbs, May 7, 2014.

  1. dubbs

    dubbs Member

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    General Notes:

    This blog is for Redwood's Giant Folly, my Halfling team in the Greydogsoftware (GDS) league (it's a "friendly" league of sorts that Wallbanger, Sudo, Bestbitter, and I have played in for several seasons; more recently, Nikolai and Ken joined in as well).

    The team is based on characters TEW (a professional wrestling simulator) - a game created by one of the developers at GDS.

    ---------------

    Reserved for team roster and links
     
    Last edited by a moderator: Jun 18, 2014
  2. dubbs

    dubbs Member

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    Day 0

    Beard, spit, and flabby flesh were plummeting toward him.

    *CRUNCH*

    Daryl, better known as Daryl Devine, had just received a massive body splash from Giant Redwood, a heaping pile of humanity that was equal parts muscle-y fat, hair, and stench. Redwood dug an elbow into Daryl's jaw, as he rested his girth on him. The referee counted to three, and the giant oaf slowly stood up and celebrated. Daryl rolled out of the ring, wheezing and coughing.

    Daryl was one of the most talented professional wrestlers in the country. Maybe in the world. Despite his obvious athletic talent, technical prowess, charisma, and rugged good looks,he was languishing away in the United States Professional Wrestling league, unable to push his way up the card and into the limelight. Of course, Daryl understood why. He was a smaller wrestler and the USPW favored the towering mammoths. Size and stature were rewarded over skill and atheleticism. And, there was of course, the whole issue with Daryl being quite prone to injury. Daryl had spent about half of his career on the injured reserve list.

    He sighed and winced, as he walked to backstage area. There was nothing he could do to address his lack of size and that lack of size wasn't helping the injury situation. He was sure that some of his ribs were cracked even now, after that baffoon Giant Redwood landed one of the clumbsiest splashes on him tonight. Another breath and more pain. Daryl would see the doctor tomorrow. More time on the shelf, more time down the card. He hated that overgrown jerk, he hated him with every ounce of his being.

    Fortunately, there was something that Daryl loved. Lemon cakes. He absolutely adored the delictable treats. And for all of USPW's faults, they provided excellent snacks for the catering table. Daryl could tolerate his lack of professional progress, the endless cyle of injuries, and indignitity of being forced to lose to talentless hacks on a regular basis. Yes, all of that was tolerable, provided that he was able to get just one sweet morsel per night. Of course, the backstage goodies were in high demand. USPW's roster had a disportionate number of tall guys, fat guys, and meatheads (and a large number who were some combination of the above).

    Tonight, Daryl was in luck. He looked down at the table. *thud* Three tasty lemon cakes sat there, beckoning him. His mouth watered at the thought of the lemony tartness. *Thud* For a second, the pain in his torso faded away. *Thud!* He smiled and reached out for the cake. *THUD!*

    "Outta my way, Diva Devine!"

    Giant Redwood, all 7 feet and 450 lbs of him bumped into Daryl's shoulder, as he squeezed his next to him at the catering table. Redwood was a disgusting human being. In addition to unnaturally large, Redwood had worse hygeine than a rabid street dog. No one knew when or if the bald, bearded stack of flesh showered, as he was so out of shape that a simple walk down the hall covered Redwood in a slimy layer of liquid that smelled more like cheap fried food than sweat. Being around Redwood after a match was revolting. Having to compete against him should have been viewed as a war crime.

    Sadly, his personality was more offensive than his hygeine. Redwood was biggest jerk in all of USPW and given their roster, that was a true accomplishment. His massive gaping paw reached out and grabbed a pitcher of fruit punch. Darly looked on in horror as Redwood poured the liquid into and onto his mouth. Soon, a stream of read liquid dripped from Redwood's red beard. Daryle shrugged. The fruit punch was an improvement in smell.

    Ignoring Redwood, he grabbed a lemon cake. Ah, sweet, sweet lemon cakes. He held up the cake and stared at it, wondering how terribly off his life must be for this to be his only source of happiness.

    Redwood reached across Daryle and grabbed the other two lemon cakes, then greedily shoved them into his mouth.

    "Gonna eat dat?" he bellowed, with his mouth full of lemon goodness. As he spoke, crumbs of lemon cake and spittle shot out, landing on his own face, beard, and chest, landing on Daryl, and landing all over the food remainingon the table.

    Darly couldn't quite understand his overgrown colleague. Giant Redwood took the silence as a "no" and reached out and snatched the cake from Daryl's hand. Seconds later, it was stuffed into his gaping maw as well. Daryl was stunned. Dumbfounded even.

    "That was... that was... that was my lemon cake."

    Giant Redwood noticed some lemony goodness on his finger and licked it off. Then he grabbed Daryl's head and gave him a lemon-scented wet willy.

    "Snooze and lose, Diva Devine."

    And then Redwood gave Daryl a hard shove, sending the smaller wrestler to the ground. Daryl was furious and for a moment thought about jumping to his feet and punching Redwood as hard as he could. But the cake was gone and fighting wouldn't bring it back. Redwood snickered and laughed, making some final comment about the general wussiness of "Diva Devine" as he moved to make someone else's life miserable.

    Daryl sat on the floor and looked up and gazed at the night's sky through a skyline window, wondering how he got this point in his life.

    A shooting star zipped across the sky.

    "Hmmph. I wish that oaf would turn into a real Giant Redwood!" he said to himself.

    Daryl might not have made that wish had he known ...
     
    Last edited: May 7, 2014
  3. Ken

    Ken Kenny the Mechanic

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    did someone say FRIENDLY!?!

    Gentle and Friendly co. reporting for duty :D

    Underworld's kindest at your service.

    -----

    great way to start the team too, well done jiminy
     
    Last edited: May 7, 2014
  4. Blasscend

    Blasscend Member

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    You liar!

    I remember back in a game between me and your orks you told me you'd never even think about flings!

    Jk, I'm glad you changed your mind. Prepare for hilarity, frustrations and a LOT of NOPE-moments.
     
  5. dubbs

    dubbs Member

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    How things change :D

    I've had a bit of Halfling practice and have found it quite fun. I'm nowhere near as good as you, Alta, or Rem, but it's okay - the games are absurd enough that the result doesn't matter to me :)
     
  6. dubbs

    dubbs Member

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    Day 0

    Giant Redwood marched to the backstage area, taunting the hecklers and threatening to backhand the occasional fan. The crowd always took this as a playful threat and as part of the family involved USPW experience. Redwood didn’t think it was a joke though. If he wouldn’t lose his job, he’d put all of these pimple faced punks in their places. Just like he did to Diva Devine.

    Yes, of course, wrestling was fake. But Giant Redwood played for keeps. That splash he just landed on Devine was at full force. And when 450 lbs lands on 200 lbs, 450 lbs wins. Redwood was pretty sure he felt something inside of Daryle pop beneath him when he landed.

    Good. Screw 'em.

    Redwood hated that smug little punk. Little twerp was always going on about “workrate” and cardio. And then he was always whining about his spot on the card. Waa, waa, waa. Oh, I’m Daryl Devine and I’m such a good wrestler. Why do I have to lose so much? Blah, blah, blah.

    That little Diva didn’t get it. Sure, the USPW put Redwood over Devine. But next week, Redwood be asked to lose to some legend like Bruce or to some up-and-comer like Devine. Diva was in his mid 20’s. If he could keep his mouth shut, do his job, and put in his time, he’d make his way up the card. Redwood would not. He was older and it was getting harder and harder to do his job. Years of being on the road were taking its toll on him. He was outshined by the new class of “monster” heels like T-Rex. Bunch of steroid freaks, if you asked him! It wasn't natural to be that big and that ripped at the same time!

    Diva always talked about the USPW not being fair. Ha! If it wasn’t fair for anyone, it wasn’t fair to Redwood. He’d put in his time! And where had that got him? Freaking no-where. Sam Strong or some junior booker was always on his case about his “bad attitude” and lack of in-ring safety. As if that was justification for holding him back. Where did they think his bad attitude came from? Being treated like a little punk. That and having to deal with snot-nosed little jerks like Diva Devine.

    Redwood saw the twerp standing at the catering table. What was with him and the lemon cakes? Freaking weirdo. Actually though, Redwood was a bit hungry and thirsty himself. He deserved a snack. Afterall, he just carried that nobody Diva Devine through a match.

    Hmm. Only a few lemon cakes left. Redwood started jogging to the table.

    "Outta my way, Diva Devine!" he bellowed, as “accidently” bumped Devine away. Redwood carefully consumed some fruit punch from a pitcher, as he watched Devine out of the corner of his eye. Staring at those lemon cakes. Little twerp was always staring at the lemon cakes.

    Maybe he should try one?

    Redwood shrugged and reached out, grabbing a pair of lemon cakes. He took a delicate bite, careful to not spill any crumbs.

    Holy. Crap.

    These things were freaking excellent. That little punk Diva Devine was onto something! He reached out and snatched the final lemon cake from Devine. Redwood needed the final cake!

    The little punk looked like he was going to cry. "That was... that was... that was my lemon cake" he stammered.

    Giant Redwood noticed some lemony goodness on his finger. And he was tryin' to be so careful. He shrugged, then licked it off. Then he grabbed Daryl's head and gave him a lemon-scented wet willy.

    "Snooze and lose, Diva Devine."

    Giant Redwood despised this little punk. He thought about clubbing him with a punch across the back of the head, but thought better of it. Instead, he opted to toss the little Diva to the ground. Maybe the little snob would get up and actually defend himself like a man. That’d give Redwood all the justification he needed to…

    Nope. Sat their like a little sissy. “Hmmph, ya’ wuss.” Redwood bellowed as he started to walk away.

    He was such a badass. Why couldn’t everyone see it? He should be the face of this organization. He was really sick of taking crap from all of these little punks. He paused. Maybe he should give Devine a piece of his mind. As he turned around, he saw a shooting star zip across the sky.

    Redwood shrugged and made a silent wish. He wished that his name was on the marquee and that he was the star of the show. He might not have made that wish had he known ...
     
  7. dubbs

    dubbs Member

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    Day 0

    "AV8 Elfs = cheating" Coach Dubbs wrote on the bbtactics chatbox, after finishing his diatribe about how he always rolls 1's. There were two things that Coach Dubbs loved. One was Blood Bowl. The other was complaining about Blood Bowl. He might have had more passion for the latter. Oh, Dubbs liked other things. He liked things like tacos (they're tasty), Roombas (cleaning sucks), and the smell after a nice rainstorm (just because).

    He also liked the idea] of various things. For example, he liked the idea of having and maintaining friendships, getting a professional job with benefits and the promise of continued future employment, and the idea of settling into a relationship and starting a family. Those were all great ideas.

    Sadly, Dubbs didn't have time for those things. He had time only for Blood Bowl. He read about Blood Bowl. He wrote about Blood Bowl. He played Blood Bowl twice a week at the local gaming store. He bought and painted Blood Bowl miniatures and accessories. Oh. And he played Blood Bowl online. Boy, did he ever play Blood Bowl online. He must have been juggling 6 or 7 leagues at this point. And he made sure to do at least one "match-making" game per day, in order to "square things away with Nuffle" (whatever that means).

    Some people called this sad. Dubbs thought of it as dedication. He had even started working on a custom pitch, with a stadium and fans. The tabletop version of Blood Bowl wasn't as popular as it used to be, but Dubbs was going all "Field of Dreams" with this one. "If you build it, they will come..."

    Earlier that night, his friends (those few who still tried to talk to him about things other than Blood Bowl) were bugging him tonight. "Come to the USPW show tonight!" they said on his voice mail. "Bruce the Giant is going to make a special appearance!" they wrote on his Facebook wall.

    Dubbs used to like professional wrestling. He grew up on it and watched it every week with his father. He even liked the idea of watching professional wrestling again. And a live show sure did sound fun. And Bruce was freaking awesome. It was cool that the big guy was still kicking all these years later.

    "Sorry bros, got my CC match tonight. Have fun." he texted back. He wasn't sure anyone actually used "bros" anymore, but he saw a meme about it on a Blood Bowl site, so figured it was a safe reply. And so Coach Dubbs would play his Crunch Cup game and miss Giant Redwood's fateful splash on Daryl Devine.

    The CC game was not going well. Dubbs' vampires kept bloodlusting all over the place and his opponent had only “pows” on his dice (no respect for Blodge at all). "GG" he wrote, as his opponent dodged away from his last remaining thrall and scored, taking the 3-2 win and knocking Dubbs out of the Crunch Cup. And so, Dubbs typed "AV8 Elf = Cheating" on the BBtactics chatbox.

    It was a frustrating loss. He was that close to advancing. That close. Still, he had fun. He always had fun with Blood Bowl.

    Dubbs took a deep breathe. Was it too late for a pick-up game? Probably. Oh well. He'd grab a quick soft-drink and power through another game. He hated to go to bed on a loss.

    In the kitchen, he stared out of the window as he poured his diet soft drink into a glass with ice. A shooting star zipped across the sky.

    "Man, I wish Blood Bowl was real. And that I was a real coach!"

    He definitely would not have made that wish had he known...
     
    Last edited: May 9, 2014
  8. St Cloud

    St Cloud Well-Known Member

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    Well written Dubbs.

    +1
     
  9. Ken

    Ken Kenny the Mechanic

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    Son of Cjblackburn: the storying

    (A tale of tales)

    [great stuff dubbs :)]
     
  10. Nikolai II

    Nikolai II Super Moderator Moderator

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    Man I wish this story would keep going.
     
  11. Remthar

    Remthar Well-Known Member

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    Great start Dubbs, good luck with the Flings!