Official Match Thread Season 27 Round 11 - Las Vegas Bears vs Fighting Furies at The Stadium in the Sky

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You should be happy TJASTA.

I'm writing a story with you in it, so forgive me if I don't respond further.

I shall post it once it is finished.
 
TJASTA said:
don't call me baby tosspot
Click to expand...

Baby Tosspot.

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FROM THE SAUSAGE FILES (#sweetlore)

FIRST CONTACT​

TJ sat on the street, his back leaning up against the abandoned building - a place where he had once spent a lot of happy times. He looked away to his left, down the street towards the hospital, then off to his right, eyes scanning the crowds for his mates. On the outside of the building, the decorations so passionately applied by the crowds now hung limp, forgotten, broken. He wondered, idly, how much longer they'd survive against the elements. That caught his interest, that thought. It lead to thinking about what all this meant. That in turn led to wondering when the tab would kick in, the one he'd been given at the clinic today - he certainly wasn't feeling any different. Maybe this was contentment, he mused. He started wondering about the nice doctor who'd seen him earlier at the clinic and why she'd been wearing blue and yellow shoes. His thought was interrupted by a shout from down the street. It was Turbo.

"TJ!! TEE-YAST-AAAAAAAAAAAAA!! OI!!", Turbo shouted as he charged up the street. He ran to TJ, slumping down on the footpath, out of breath, sweat beading on his face, dripping down his muscular arms, He was ripped, was Turbo. And TJ was annoyed.
"Don't ******* call me TJASTA, Turbo! Not out here, where other people can hear, for *s sake. How many times have I said that to you?", TJ said through clenched teeth.
Turbo grinned at him. "Jesus man, lighten up. None of these proles give a * about us. We sure as * don't care about them. Anyway, have you seen SevenFour?" SevenFour was the other one in their crew, sometimes the leader, but that really depended on what they were doing. He was a little older than Turbo and TJ, not by much, but enough.
TJ shook his head at Turbo. The dude got on his nerves sometimes. "Nah, he ain't here yet man. I haven't seen him anyway. What's the plan tonight, are we going anywhere or just hanging out?"
Turbo stood up, stretching. TJ could swear he was even bigger than he had been when he'd last seen him....three....no, four days ago. He was a ******* monster. "Yeah", said Turbo, "I think we're going to some upmarket party near JackNah Park, off Fumbler Ave. There's some townhouses on this side of the river, opposite the Heights....you know 'em?"
TJ nodded. "Yeah, I know the ones. Few crazy dudes hang out around that part of Sweet man. Should be fun," said TJ, finishing with a smile. If there was one thing the three of them could do, it was get into, and out of, a bingle. Trouble was never far away on the streets of Sweet. Well, never far away if you knew where to find it. Which they did.

Turbo spotted SevenFour coming up from the opposite direction, from down towards the hospital, his wiry frame gliding through that late afternoon crowds as they emptied from workplaces to get home. He was wearing shades, the reflective lenses and his angular face making him look older. He liked to think he was the coolest of the three, but TJ never felt that. TJ knew who was the coolest. And it wasn't SevenFour. But something was clearly different today. Although the usual brown paper bag was in place, tucked under his arm.
"What's up, flogs?" said SevenFour, adjusting his pleather jacket, opened because of a busted zipper. His brushed off some dirt on his cheap black t-shirt, and then off his black stovepipe jeans.
TJ and Turbo looked at each other. SevenFour had never worn this sort of outfit before. He wasn't.....cool. Turbo and TJ almost always wore black. But SevenFour was usually a blue denim jeans and collared shirt kinda guy. Although to be fair, he also often lost that shirt by the end of the night. Tonight, he looked like Rico Casek, Sweet's answer to Iggy Pop.
"What the * are you wearing, SevenFour?" said Turbo. "You look like a ******* muso carnie". TJ stifled a laugh. Turbo never cared who he was talking to. He just said the first thing that came to mind. That, along with SevenFour's desire to call everyone "flog" and TJ's particular brand of impotent rage, usually led to trouble.

SevenFour stepped back, making a show of adjusting his belt and staring the pair of them up and down.
"Nah, you flogs. I just decided to be a little different tonight, that's all. Besides, we are going to an exclusive party and there'll be....people....there, who won't recognise me at first. Hopefully. Anyway, the old girl is out of town so I dragged out the old threads. I'm not being respectable tonight. I'm OFF THE ******* LEASH!!". He finished speaking in a half shout, half roar. TJ wondered about his definition of respectable, given SevenFour's penchant for bloodstains were common enough to almost be accessorised. But he kept that thought to himself.
"So, where are we going and how are we getting there?" he asked instead. "And what are we drinking and when are we starting?" added Turbo.
"Hang on a sec flogs. ******* hell, you campaigners are keen. We're getting a lift with an old mate, lemme call him and find out where we're meeting him - here, start on that while I talk to him", replied SevenFour, throwing the bag towards Turbo as he turned away to fish his phone from his jacket. TJ didn't drink, but Turbo usually made up for that. He looked into the bag, grinned, and unscrewed the lid off the bottle. Glancing about at the heavily thinned foot traffic, he knocked back a mouthful of the dark brown liquid. It went down smoothly.
"Ahhhh, * that's good. Sweet does the BEST homebrew spirits I reckon," he said, to nobody in particular.
TJ glanced up at the clear sky. The stars seemed....brighter. A lot brighter. He became aware of a tingling in his hands at the same time as SevenFour turned back towards them.
"Rightio, Tragedy is gonna grab us from opposite the hospital, we can wait just near the cab rank there. Let's go, he's on his way now", he finished, turning away and walking down the street.

"Oh * man. ******* TRAGEDY? The guy is a punk, SevenFour. Why THE * are we going to a party with Tragedy?" exclaimed Turbo, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. SevenFour stopped.
"We aren't GOING with him. We are just getting a lift with him you ******* flog. Besides, he's still on the honour board at the Qooty club, so cut him some slack. He's doing us a favour, so don't be a dick about it." SevenFour resumed his march down the street, followed by Turbo. TJ lagged a bit behind. He wasn't feeling himself. Actually, he was feeling ******* great, but that was really unusual. Like....REALLY unusual. He jogged briefly to catch up to the other two, who were arguing about Tragedy's last season at the Furies and whether he was a better player now than he was then. ******* hell, thought TJ. All these problems in the world and they talk about bullshit. Usually that thought depressed him, but not tonight. It just faded away, into the background. What the * was he feeling? He had no idea. Every small thought is his head was getting big and every big thought was getting small.

They stopped behind the cab rank, opposite Sweet's main hospital. Turbo and SevenFour were still arguing, now about whether the Demons were going to win another flag this year. TJ didn't care. He couldn't focus on their words, they just seemed to slip away. The noise of traffic started to sound like rushing waves, the colours of the cars liquefying, the pristine white of the building pixelating into an infinite number of points. He stumbled forward. He felt great. Behind him, he could hear Turbo and SevenFour shout after him, but he didn't care any more. He suddenly knew what he had to do. He ran across the road, dodging the vehicles and into the bright lights of the hospital entrance. He needed to write it down, these thoughts in his head, the answers he'd been thinking but not thinking, crystallising into form and letters, into colours into shapes into symbols into maths into sounds into an emergent infinite that was spilling out of him. He could see people surrounding him now and he was looking up at them and didn't remember lying down. And now he was in a room and the reality was all around him but he could see through it and he had the answers if only he could find someone who he could talk to about it, they could make the world a better place and solve all the problems.....

He heard a sound, coming down the hallway. There was sound all around him, but this pierced him, this was a sound that KNEW. He looked over at the doorway as a pair of blue and yellow shoes came in. He looked up, but the lights were very bright and he had to close his eyes but the brightness was still there. He was drifting off, and she was talking and he knew it was important if only he could just latch on to the words.....

"Too much, I think. Nurse, prepare a shot of 15cc's of Type B Ch.....".

And he fell into the light.

Mobbs - I named a street for Minecraft Sweet. In case you care :) Fumbler Ave, near JackNah Park.
 
Last edited:
Sausages said:
FROM THE SAUSAGE FILES

TJ sat on the street, his back leaning up against the abandoned building - a place where he had once spent a lot of happy times. He looked away to his left, down the street towards the hospital, then off to his right, eyes scanning the crowds for his mates. On the outside of the building, the decorations so passionately applied by the crowds now hung limp, forgotten, broken. He wondered, idly, how much longer they'd survive against the elements. That caught his interest, that thought. It lead to thinking about what all this meant. That in turn led to wondering when the tab would kick in, the one he'd been given at the clinic today - he certainly wasn't feeling any different. Maybe this was contentment, he mused. He started wondering about the nice doctor who'd seen him earlier at the clinic and why she'd been wearing blue and yellow shoes. His thought was interrupted by a shout from down the street. It was Turbo.

"TJ!! TEE-YAST-AAAAAAAAAAAAA!! OI!!", Turbo shouted as he charged up the street. He ran to TJ, slumping down on the footpath, out of breath, sweat beading on his face, dripping down his muscular arms, He was ripped, was Turbo. And TJ was annoyed.
"Don't ******* call me TJASTA, Turbo! Not out here, where other people can hear, for ****s sake. How many times have I said that to you?", TJ said through clenched teeth.
Turbo grinned at him. "Jesus man, lighten up. None of these proles give a **** about us. We sure as **** don't care about them. Anyway, have you seen SevenFour?" SevenFour was the other one in their crew, sometimes the leader, but that really depended on what they were doing. He was a little older than Turbo and TJ, not by much, but enough.
TJ shook his head at Turbo. The dude got on his nerves sometimes. "Nah, he ain't here yet man. I haven't seen him anyway. What's the plan tonight, are we going anywhere or just hanging out?"
Turbo stood up, stretching. TJ could swear he was even bigger than he had been when he'd last seen him....three....no, four days ago. He was a ******* monster. "Yeah", said Turbo, "I think we're going to some warehouse party near JackNah Park, off Fumbler Ave. There's some old warehouses on this side of the river, opposite the Heights....you know 'em?"
TJ nodded. "Yeah, I know the ones. Few crazy dudes hang out around that part of Sweet man. Should be fun," said TJ, finishing with a smile. If there was one thing the three of them could do, it was get into, and out of, a bingle. Trouble was never far away on the streets of Sweet. Well, never far away if you knew where to find it. Which they did.

Turbo spotted SevenFour coming up from the opposite direction, from down towards the hospital, his wiry frame gliding through that late afternoon crowds as they emptied from workplaces to get home. He was wearing shades, the reflective lenses and his angular face making him look older. He liked to think he was the coolest of the three, but TJ never felt that. TJ knew who was the coolest. And it wasn't SevenFour. But something was clearly different today. Although the usual brown paper bag was in place, tucked under his arm.
"What's up, flogs?" said SevenFour, adjusting his pleather jacket, opened because of a busted zipper. His brushed off some dirt on his cheap black t-shirt, and then off his black stovepipe jeans.
TJ and Turbo looked at each other. SevenFour had never worn this sort of outfit before. He wasn't.....cool. Turbo and TJ almost always wore black. But SevenFour was usually a blue denim jeans and collared shirt kinda guy. Although to be fair, he also often lost that shirt by the end of the night. Tonight, he looked like Rico Casek, Sweet's answer to Iggy Pop.
"What the **** are you wearing, SevenFour?" said Turbo. "You look like a ******* muso carnie". TJ stifled a laugh. Turbo never cared who he was talking to. He just said the first thing that came to mind. That, along with SevenFour's desire to call everyone "flog" and TJ's particular brand of impotent rage, usually led to trouble.

SevenFour stepped back, making a show of adjusting his belt and staring the pair of them up and down.
"Nah, you flogs. I just decided to be a little different tonight, that's all. Besides, we are going to a warehouse party and there'll be....people....there, who won't recognise me at first. Hopefully. Anyway, the old girl is out of town so I dragged out the old threads. I'm not being respectable tonight. I'm OFF THE ******* LEASH!!". He finished speaking in a half shout, half roar. TJ wondered about his definition of respectable, given SevenFour's penchant for bloodstains were common enough to almost be accessorised. But he kept that thought to himself.
"So, where are we going and how are we getting there?" he asked instead. "And what are we drinking and when are we starting?" added Turbo.
"Hang on a sec flogs. ******* hell, you campaigners are keen. We're getting a lift with an old mate, lemme call him and find out where we're meeting him - here, start on that while I talk to him", replied SevenFour, throwing the bag towards Turbo as he turned away to fish his phone from his jacket. TJ didn't drink, but Turbo usually made up for that. He looked into the bag, grinned, and unscrewed the lid off the bottle. Glancing about at the heavily thinned foot traffic, he knocked back a mouthful of the dark brown liquid. It went down smoothly.
"Ahhhh, **** that's good. Sweet does the BEST homebrew spirits I reckon," he said, to nobody in particular.
TJ glanced up at the clear sky. The stars seemed....brighter. A lot brighter. He became aware of a tingling in his hands at the same time as SevenFour turned back towards them.
"Rightio, Tragedy is gonna grab us from opposite the hospital, we can wait just near the cab rank there. Let's go, he's on his way now", he finished, turning away and walking down the street.

"Oh **** man. ******* TRAGEDY? The guy is a punk, SevenFour. Why THE **** are we going to a party with Tragedy?" exclaimed Turbo, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. SevenFour stopped.
"We aren't GOING with him. We are just getting a lift with him you ******* flog. Besides, he's still on the honour board at the Qooty club, so cut him some slack. He's doing us a favour, so don't be a dick about it." SevenFour resumed his march down the street, followed by Turbo. TJ lagged a bit behind. He wasn't feeling himself. Actually, he was feeling ******* great, but that was really unusual. Like....REALLY unusual. He jogged briefly to catch up to the other two, who were arguing about Tragedy's last season at the Furies and whether he was a better player now than he was then. ******* hell, thought TJ. All these problems in the world and they talk about bullshit. Usually that thought depressed him, but not tonight. It just faded away, into the background. What the **** was he feeling? He had no idea. Every small thought is his head was getting big and every big thought was getting small.

They stopped behind the cab rank, opposite Sweet's main hospital. Turbo and SevenFour were still arguing, now about whether the Demons were going to win another flag this year. TJ didn't care. He couldn't focus on their words, they just seemed to slip away. The noise of traffic started to sound like rushing waves, the colours of the cars liquefying, the pristine white of the building pixelating into an infinite number of points. He stumbled forward. He felt great. Behind him, he could hear Turbo and SevenFour shout after him, but he didn't care any more. He suddenly knew what he had to do. He ran across the road, dodging the vehicles and into the bright lights of the hospital entrance. He needed to write it down, these thoughts in his head, the answers he'd been thinking but not thinking, crystallising into form and letters, into colours into shapes into symbols into maths into sounds into an emergent infinite that was spilling out of him. He could see people surrounding him now and he was looking up at them and didn't remember lying down. And now he was in a room and the reality was all around him but he could see through it and he had the answers if only he could find someone who he could talk to about it, they could make the world a better place and solve all the problems.....

He heard a sound, coming down the hallway. There was sound all around him, but this pierced him, this was a sound that KNEW. He looked over at the doorway as a pair of blue and yellow shoes came in. He looked up, but the lights were very bright and he had to close his eyes but the brightness was still there. He was drifting off, and she was talking and he knew it was important if only he could just latch on to the words.....

"Too much, I think. Nurse, prepare a shot of 15cc's of Type B Ch.....".

And he fell into the light.

Mobbs - I named a street for Minecraft Sweet. In case you care :) Fumbler Ave, near JackNah Park.
Click to expand...

Good story.

Where is Mobbs ??
 
He's not in the story - I just know he was asking earlier in the Sweet Minecraft thread for street names and since I went and made one, thought he should know :)
 
I Dont Care said:
You do know that Jacknah Park is actually a car park? :oops:
Click to expand...

Not specifically - but on the Sweet image I was using, across from the park is a series of little brown buildings - those are the warehouses I refer to in the story. JackNah Park is just the only named landmark close enough to reference in the story.
 
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