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von Bloöd

“What the hell was that out there?” yells Coach von Bloöd.

“Sorry, Coach,” says Thung, as the team medic wraps bandages around the axe in his skull.

“I want to see hustle! I want to see some execution!”

“But we ran that play just like you–”

“No! Literally execution!” says von Bloöd. “Can’t any of you decapitate their paladin?”

“Us not been playing dungeonball very long!” whines Ragachak. “Ragachak forget most of rules.”

“There are no rules!” roars the Coach, swelling with dark rage. “Just go kill the stupid adventurers!”

“Yeah, right,” mutters Bazuzel, “after we all got nerfed in 3.5.”


The problem with subterranean medical care is, at heart, a cotton shortage.

“Ragachak think it infected,” says Ragachak mournfully, picking at scabs. “Ragachak not know why!”

“Probably because all five of you used the same bandage,” sighs Doctor von Bloöd. “I keep telling you goblins that sharing is not always caring. Nurse, sterilize these?”

The nurse breathes fire on the instrument tray.

“I’ll lance it, but you’ll need to keep it clean,” says von Bloöd. “Can’t you waylay some do-gooders carrying clean water for once?”

“Ragachak try!” chirps Ragachak. “But it hard to tell before we drop the big rock.”