[!@#$%!]

Originally Posted by floatingslowly

At the last moment, I wave my staff and encant the ritual of time-out.

My [Jock of Holding] gives me a plus three to substitutes. I roll a twenty, scoring a critical hit!

I choose Narnawk, The Scrote-Chewer, a half-orc guard from Bristol to replace the now winded Farnum Tinklepants, the gnome who had served us so well first period by running in-between the legs the opposing squad to score a handy goal, early.

Narnawk's handlers unchain him from the pole near our bench. He bellows the orcish war-cry, now so feared by all.

"Nnnnggggrrrwgggl!" he shouts; which, of course, in half-orc means "soccer good"

haaaaaaaaaaaaa haaaaaaaaaaaa haaaaaaaaaaaaa haaaaaaaaaaaa

it's true, it's all true, except for the word "soccer" of course, but this is all true, ha ha ha. very well done.