Frosty
Well-known member
- Joined
- Dec 8, 2012
- Messages
- 6,706
- Reaction score
- 4,847
Slow Friday at the office, so here we go.
In a break from tradition, there is no normal open the gate ceremony. The Number of the Beast by Iron Maiden begins playing over the PA, the gate swings open on its own, and the team is led out onto the field by the Deacon who levitates with his arms outstretched to midfield. As he hangs above the WF logo he begins spinning like a top in a way that defies physics. Unbeknown to the assembled congregation, the Deacon suit is empty. He comes to an abrupt stop and lets out an inhuman shriek that can be heard across Winston-Salem. The glass in Deacon Tower shatters.
"I am Pazuzu. Spirit of the West Wind. Destroyer of gods," the Deacon professes as spiders begin to pour from his mouth. He spontaneously combusts into a ball of flames, crumpling at the fifty yard line before finally being reduced to a pile of ashes. The team cover themselves in his ashen remains while chanting the lyrics to Fields of Gold. A black fog lowers onto the field.
Hugh Freeze is missing from the sideline. Without telling anyone he retreated to the gold lot since reception inside Groves is poor and he needed to call his evening "appointment" to inform her that he will likely be late. He omits the grim details of what he has witnessed. The confusion caused by his unexplained and unanticipated absence leaves Liberty unable to start the game on time.
"I've cast the runes and the old gods are with us. We must begin the game now before their favor passes," Clawson pleads with the officiating crew. They do not follow the old gods, but as the coach begins to convulse and speak in tongues their constitution is broken. The visitors are flagged for a delay of game penalty.
The teams are finally lined up for the opening kickoff with Wake set to receive. As the official blows his whistle all eleven players on the receiving team, in unison, snap backwards at the waist until they are supported by their feet and palms; their chests pointed to the sky, their heads dangling below. The Liberty kicker has already started his motions and, with no time to react, the ball is kicked into play. In a move that defies football conventions, all eleven Deacs rapidly spider walk to the ball and begin piling on each other forming a mass of flesh, pads, and helmets with hands and feet fighting for the top of the pile. The ball rests precariously atop the hill of spider people as the hoard begins to roll down the field. The Liberty coverage team is stunned and can only watch as the rolling mound of Deacs trudges forward. Seven minutes later they reach the end zone and the officials signal touchdown. The crowd, silent until now, throws their heads backward and begins chanting Agnus Dei while in a slow, synchronized sway.
The officiating crew is preparing for Wake to kickoff when Steve Forbes descends from the top of Deacon Tower, carried on a black cloud. "I have been visited by the harbinger," he exclaims. "We are to keep this ball lest we defy His unholy mandate." Wanting to avoid any type of escalation of whatever ungodly process has been set into motion, the officials oblige and award possession to Wake at their own 25 yard line.
On the first snap from scrimmage Hartman drops into the slow mesh, holding the ball in Justice Ellison's gut. The two players freeze in their mesh, their feet rising to float six inches above the ground as they begin to glide together down the field. The crowd's chanting of Agnus Dei becomes louder and more frenzied as Hartman and Ellison, still holding the mesh point, finally come to rest in the end zone. The stunned Liberty defense doesn't even try to stop them. Overcome by the privilege of witnessing this miracle they have dropped to their knees and begun weeping.
The games proceeds as such until half time when the fans are treated to frisbee dogs. The second half follows similarly.
Deacs by a million.
In a break from tradition, there is no normal open the gate ceremony. The Number of the Beast by Iron Maiden begins playing over the PA, the gate swings open on its own, and the team is led out onto the field by the Deacon who levitates with his arms outstretched to midfield. As he hangs above the WF logo he begins spinning like a top in a way that defies physics. Unbeknown to the assembled congregation, the Deacon suit is empty. He comes to an abrupt stop and lets out an inhuman shriek that can be heard across Winston-Salem. The glass in Deacon Tower shatters.
"I am Pazuzu. Spirit of the West Wind. Destroyer of gods," the Deacon professes as spiders begin to pour from his mouth. He spontaneously combusts into a ball of flames, crumpling at the fifty yard line before finally being reduced to a pile of ashes. The team cover themselves in his ashen remains while chanting the lyrics to Fields of Gold. A black fog lowers onto the field.
Hugh Freeze is missing from the sideline. Without telling anyone he retreated to the gold lot since reception inside Groves is poor and he needed to call his evening "appointment" to inform her that he will likely be late. He omits the grim details of what he has witnessed. The confusion caused by his unexplained and unanticipated absence leaves Liberty unable to start the game on time.
"I've cast the runes and the old gods are with us. We must begin the game now before their favor passes," Clawson pleads with the officiating crew. They do not follow the old gods, but as the coach begins to convulse and speak in tongues their constitution is broken. The visitors are flagged for a delay of game penalty.
The teams are finally lined up for the opening kickoff with Wake set to receive. As the official blows his whistle all eleven players on the receiving team, in unison, snap backwards at the waist until they are supported by their feet and palms; their chests pointed to the sky, their heads dangling below. The Liberty kicker has already started his motions and, with no time to react, the ball is kicked into play. In a move that defies football conventions, all eleven Deacs rapidly spider walk to the ball and begin piling on each other forming a mass of flesh, pads, and helmets with hands and feet fighting for the top of the pile. The ball rests precariously atop the hill of spider people as the hoard begins to roll down the field. The Liberty coverage team is stunned and can only watch as the rolling mound of Deacs trudges forward. Seven minutes later they reach the end zone and the officials signal touchdown. The crowd, silent until now, throws their heads backward and begins chanting Agnus Dei while in a slow, synchronized sway.
The officiating crew is preparing for Wake to kickoff when Steve Forbes descends from the top of Deacon Tower, carried on a black cloud. "I have been visited by the harbinger," he exclaims. "We are to keep this ball lest we defy His unholy mandate." Wanting to avoid any type of escalation of whatever ungodly process has been set into motion, the officials oblige and award possession to Wake at their own 25 yard line.
On the first snap from scrimmage Hartman drops into the slow mesh, holding the ball in Justice Ellison's gut. The two players freeze in their mesh, their feet rising to float six inches above the ground as they begin to glide together down the field. The crowd's chanting of Agnus Dei becomes louder and more frenzied as Hartman and Ellison, still holding the mesh point, finally come to rest in the end zone. The stunned Liberty defense doesn't even try to stop them. Overcome by the privilege of witnessing this miracle they have dropped to their knees and begun weeping.
The games proceeds as such until half time when the fans are treated to frisbee dogs. The second half follows similarly.
Deacs by a million.
