Bin To Earth by Matt Woods (best free e reader .txt) 📖

restored and the game recommences.

Skeleton Bob is the next to receive the ball and begins one of his customary darts up the right flank. His long skeletal legs enable him to take huge strides up the wing, and he successfully evades several attempted tackles from a few over-zealous yeti’s. Problem was, although Bob was skillful at making fast ground on the pitch, he did have a very limited concentration span, more often than not when he worked himself into a decent shooting position.

As he looks up to spot where the goalkeeper is positioned Bob spots his good friend, Haymus, standing next to the corner flag. Rather than complete his blistering move by smashing the ball into the roof of the net, Bob instead leaves the ball and jogs over to his pal. Whilst they exchange pleasantries and pass the time of day, the yeti’s pick up the ball, put a string of neat passes together, and culminate their move by releasing their centre-forward, who comfortably slots the ball past the Misfits hapless keeper.

The yetis continue to dominate, and two further well taken goals enable them to increase their lead to a seemingly unbeatable 4-0. Fizz was becoming increasingly more riled with the Misfits woeful performance so takes it upon herself to vent her anger in her usual vicious fashion.

As the yeti’s pass the ball freely around the midfield area, the witch opts to ignore this passage of play and instead sprints up to the oppositions goalkeeper. Looking him square in the eyes and with a vindictive grin plastered across her face, she kicks him hard in the knee cap. Luckily for the yeti, Fizz had opted to wear her jelly shoes today, admittedly a very unusual item of footwear for a football game. Even so, it still causes the hairy ape considerable pain as he lets out a harsh and deep groan. Unperturbed, Fizz dishes out several more kicks to various parts of the creatures anatomy, then, sensing a rush of anger building inside the yeti, opts to run like the coward she is towards the sidelines!

The referee blows his whistle.

You could already sense the unease with Jamba ‘the anxious’ as he saunters nervously towards Fizz. Sweat was already forming on his brow and his almost camp like amble towards the witch suggested that here was a dwarf with very little aplomb!

Fortunately the goalkeeper recovers quickly, it generally taking more than a boot in the limbs to wound a colossus beast with bountiful strength!

Jamba beckons Fizz towards him by waving his hand, and she duly obliges by skipping nonchalantly towards him. This does little to help Jambas nerves.

“Is there a problem Jamby?” asks Fizz sardonically as she reaches the ref.

The crowd once again start to vent their frustrations at the stop start nature of the game by yelling abuse at the official. Jamba responds by sweating a great deal, and, for some reason, holding his left arm aloft, apparently in some vain hope this would curtail the insults. It doesn’t, and if anything they become worse. Jamba has little choice but to bring a quick solution to the matter and to get the game back on track. A pity then he was utterly incapable of doing so!

“Ffffizzz…” begins Jamba, stuttering as always. “Wwwhy did you dd do that?”

Bending down, Fizz grabs hold of Jambas cheeks, gives them a good squeeze, then plants a kiss firmly on his forehead. “Dunno!” she replies, releasing the petrified dwarf from her clasp.

Realising that assistance was once again needed, Skeleton Bob and Freal the ghost trot over to assist the feeble official. Jamba couldn’t deal with incidents like this at the best of times, but throw a flirtatious witch into the mix as-well and it all became very perplexing!

“What was the point of that?” questions Freal, clearly annoyed at the witches behaviour. “What’s their goalkeeper ever done to you?”

“Nothing.” replies Fizz casually, shrugging her shoulders. “I was just bored.” In the mood for more misbehaviour, Fizz starts fluttering her eyelids at the ghost. “And might I add you’re looking ravishing today Frealy baby. Fancy spending the evening playing Smack the Ferret?”

“I’d rather be dead then spend the evening with you” replies Freal abruptly.

“Think you’ll find your wish has been granted there.” adds Skeleton Bob, duly reminding the ghost of his deceased status.

Frustrated with Jambas incompetence, Skeleton Bob decides to take the matter into his own hands. He steps a little closer to the witch;

“Fizz, may I have a gentle word in your ear please?” he asks, stooping slightly to reach the witches level.

“Bugger off” replies Fizz.

Skeleton Bob ignores the insult. “Listen, if you don’t put an end to this nonsense I’ll have no choice but to ask Greybold the Wizard to unleash his spider spell upon you.”

Fizz immediately looks frightened. “Ooh, I don’t like spiders” she replies, and starts to fidget as thoughts of eight legged beasts start to fill her head.

“I know you don’t” replies Bob. “Especially not twenty foot ones might I add.”

Fizz squirms a little more. “Ooh, I especially dislike them.”

“And two hundred and twenty five of them.” adds Bob, beginning to feel he’d now cracked it.

Fizz momentarily reflects on this “Mmm…That’s quite a lot isn’t it.”

“With lots of bristling jet black hairs” adds in the Skeleton, just for good measure.

Fizz admits defeat. “Alright, alright, what do you want me to do then?” she asks bobbing her head from side to side.

“That’s better. Right, well if you can just apologise to our goalkeeper friend over there for your wrongdoings then we’ll continue as if none of this happened.”

“When you say wrongdoings do you mean when I kicked him in his bits?” asks Fizz, clearly aware of what Bob was referring to.

Skeleton Bob shakes his skull frustratingly. “Yes, yes, that’s exactly what I mean.”

The witch skulks across to the goalkeeper, mutters a virtually inaudible apology, repeats it again when the yeti says ‘pardon’, then slinks of miserably.

With Fizz now safely out of earshot, a dwarf turns to Skeleton Bob

“I didn’t think Greybold could do the spider spell?” he questions.

“He can’t” replies Bob grinning. “Now come on, let’s get on with the game!”

The yeti’s continue to dominate, and with half time fast approaching, The Misfits goalkeeper, Dilly Hetherson, makes several fine saves. One or two might have questioned the wizards slightly unorthodox methods of goalkeeping, his approach of casting spells which either froze the ball in mid-air or made it bounce repeatedly on a yeti’s head being a little suspect to say the least. Still, when you were 4-0 down, you had to adopt whatever tactics were necessary, even if this meant giving the yeti’s centre-forward a nasty headache!

Half-time arrives and the Misfits head towards the touchline to discuss tactics for the second half. The Yetis stick with their usual routine of standing around the centre circle and grunting a lot!

Ordinarily refreshments would have now been handed out by Freya, an Elf from Flighters Lane however, today she was otherwise engaged, instead having to wait at home for Lyndon ‘no leak’ Jacobson to visit. Freya’s boiler had recently started playing up, and Lyndon was a troll who plied his trade in the plumbing business. Profits were on the up for Lyndon, and he was constantly telling all who would listen he had a jam-packed diary full of clients. Most put this down to Lyndon being the only plumber on Elzac, however the troll beggared to disagree, stating his success was down to his adept skills at using a Super-Fire 2 Soldering and Brazing Torch, something he said most could only dream of!

Gathered at the side of the pitch, the Misfits moot ideas on how to approach the second half;

“Shall we just try to score some goals?” suggest Stich, the hobgoblin.

Stich was an ugly little fellow, whose successful with the female contingent was nothing short of abysmal. He put this down to the half a dozen or so wisps of hair that protruded from his not so attractive face, and the fact that he was just two foot tall. He also knew that his pointy nose and bulbous eyes did little to help when it came to the opposite sex. He had a nice personality though, which he was told time and time again by the females he hankered after. He lived in hope that one day a female hobgoblin of equivalent unsightliness would enter his life and make him a very happy chap.

“I would say that’s a jilly god idea” agrees Ross, the speech impaired zombie.

“Is it worth giving the 4-4-2 formation a stab?” proposes Freal, proud as always to show off his technical knowledge of the game. Problem was no-one else on the team ever knew what he was prattling on about.

“No idea whit you moan. That just sounds luck gobbledygook to my” replies Ross.

Fizz the witch looks directly at the zombie. “Why are you on the team?” she asks rudely. “You talk nothing but drivel.”

Ross momentarily looks dejected however Freal the ghost jumps to his defence. “He’s good at pushing people out the way though isn’t he?” he says, turning to face the witch.

“And nibbling on the opposition” contributes Grunt, the headless man. “That generally puts them off a bit.”

With half time at an end, Jamba the anxious’ blows his whistle and beckons both teams back onto the pitch. The Misfits conclude they will continue with the tactics they’d adopted for the past fifteen or so years, that of toe-punting the ball towards goal with the hope that at some point it would find its way into the back of the net!

The yetis start the second half as they’d finished the first, with numerous threatening attacks towards goal. It was clear they meant business today, and as things stood you wouldn‘t have put it past them scoring into double figures. As they launch another assault on goal, they fail to predict the tactic that The Misfits are about to employ, the old classic of getting your Banshee at left back to wail incredibly loudly!

As the piercing shriek fills the air, the attacking yeti halts his run, visibly shaken by the ferocity of the Banshee’s wail.

Taking full advantage of the oppositions temporary numbness, Sue the Banshee intercepts the ball and starts what can only be described as an absurdly girly run up the pitch! A copious amount of high pitched screeches, a good deal of arms flailing, along with the odd bottom wiggle here and there all help the Banshee to weave her way through the opposition. As she moves over the halfway line she nearly trips over her ankle length flowery dress as it gets caught underneath her left plimsoll.

Recomposing herself quickly, Sue regains her balance, then, a little bizarrely, opts to pull up her dress. A slightly odd move as although it would no doubt prevent her from stumbling over, it did serve to expose her bright yellow bloomers for all to see! One or two of the crowd struggle to hold back raucous laughter, whilst one apparently brazen dwarf lets out a wolf whistle!

Ignoring the commotion, Sue steps inside the penalty box, and, with just the goalie to beat, toe-punts the ball into the top right hand corner. She celebrates by turning her back to the keeper, bending over, then wiggling her bloomer exposed behind to the bewildered yeti.

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