ISSUE ONE -- NIGEL #10 1DOWNLOAD LATEST ISSUE >
Nigel bounced up and down in thedark, his nerves on edge. How canyou get twenty-two gods together for a football match, not to mentioncountless others in the stands towatch, then let the stadium lights goout? Frankly, it was embarrassing.He’d grab the ball and piss off if there weren’t so much at stake.Eventually there was a series of loudclicks, followed by an intense hum,and the pitch was bathed in lightonce again. Players immediatelylatched onto balls and began runningthrough drills. Nigel took a moment to soak in thesurroundings. The Monumental cer-tainly had been named well. Thestands rose up steeply on all sidesand the gods in paying attendance
Let The Game Pour Down FromGods Above
Illustration:CHRISTOPHER LEE >
were already in full song, rooting ontheir chosen side. Nigel caught sight of Hamish com-ing back onto the field, wiping hishands with a rag and looking aboutsheepishly.“Sorry ‘bout that. A drunken satyr spilled some mead on the wiring.All sorted now.” Nigel nodded and, noticing a spot of grease on Hamish’s cheek, made amirroring gesture on his own.“Got a bit on yer face, mate.”“Huh? Oh, cheers!”Hamish wiped at his cheek with twofingers, leaving behind a much big-ger smudge than before. Nigelgrinned.“No, mate. Other cheek.”Hamish left a matching trail on theopposite side.“That got it?” Nigel shook his head.“Missed a bit.”Another smudge appeared just as Nancy jogged up. His feathered felthat was still atop his head“That’s got it.”“Thanks.”“No worries.” Nancy took in the exchange, lookedat Hamish’s warpaint, his grinwidening, and elbowed Nigel in theribs. The Brit bit his tongue to keepa straight face.Looking at Nancy's hat, Nigel asked,"Don't you ever take that ugly thingoff?" Nancy let out a guttural laugh."Only when I get serious, myfriend," he replied. "Besides, thewomen love it." Nigel barked at that and played attrying to snatch the headgear away.Manco strutted up, wearing the arm- band for his side. Gaston and Pierre,
still topped with berets and draggingon cheap cigarettes, accompaniedhim. Even up close, it was impossi- ble to tell them apart, but Padraigclaimed he had it on good authoritythat they weren’t twins. Not even re-lated, he said.“Are we ready?” Manco sneered.Hamish slipped on his armband andnodded in the affirmative. Mancolooked momentarily confused by the black marks on the Scot’s face, butdecided to ignore them.“All sides ‘ave agreed upon thestakes, non?” One of either Gastonor Pierre spoke up.Trying to decide which it was couldgive a god a headache. Nigel de-cided that from now on whichever one spoke, he would think of him asGaspierre.Hamish reassured the French duothat everyone had agreed to all per-tinent wagers. Nigel looked about. “Where are theofficials? No way are this lot goingto work on the honour system.”Otto materialised in full kit and boots, four startled men in tow andwith Ramona, replete in armour,horned helm and her own face paint,on his arm. He glared angrily at Nigel as he answered.“They are right here.”The foremost man wore a whistlearound his neck. He was seventy if a day, pale-skinned, balding and pot- bellied. There were two others car-rying flags, the first short,olive-skinned and bearded, wearinga ghutra on his head, and the seconda tall black fellow, bespectacled andlooking quite unhappy. The fourthman, carrying an electronic timeclock, was Caucasian, with a cheer-ful disposition and a thick mane of wavy black hair. Gaspierre looked particularly displeased by his pres-ence. Nigel snorted.“You’ve got to be joking! Except for the one carrying the clock, none of them look like they could walk around a moat, let alone keep upwith us for ninety minutes. Do they
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Let the Game Pour Down From Gods Above
Nigel Interlude #10 -- originally appearing in Man and Ball Issue One
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