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“This is a massacre,” I said under my breath as I gripped my flang tighter in my hands.

“Oh don’t be such a downer, Little Debbie,” my ever confident teammate Marius replied, “we may get through this yet.”

“Have you seen the scoreboard recently?”

“Nah, never bother with it.”

Incredulously I stared back, “You’re the captain! Shouldn’t you be keeping tabs on things?”

“Will knowing the score effect where I need to throw the ip for any given play?”

“It will help you know which play to call.”

“Like the playmaker lets me make those decisions.”

“Marius, you need to take control. Claude is a grade A tosser who doesn’t really understand what we’re doing.”

“He lead his other team-“

“To 5 championships, yeah I know,” I cut him off getting mad. “We are not his other team. The dynamics are completely different. Throw his crap out and call one of our plays.”


“No, no buts. We all chose you for team captain so you could look out for us. Look at what has happened so far in the first half!”

Marius looked around and saw the carnage. How he missed that three of our ten players were on the bench with slings secured around their necks while a fourth sat getting splints bound to either side of his legs was a mystery to me. His sad eyes met mine, a disheartening sight that I was sure would haunt me until I was old. I squared my shoulders and nodded to three of the four remaining members. Marius took a seat while we took the field. I checked both ends of the flang. The net was still in good order, despite the other team’s dirty attempt to slash it. The wooden shaft too was still intact while the wide beaver tail-esq paddle at the end of the shaft was certainly damaged. However mine was in much better shape then some of my other team members so I chose to ignore it. Making a quick assessment of what else was wrong with their flangi I collected my thoughts.

“Alright team, I know we’re down my twenty. But we know this game and we know the Racoon’s style better than we know our own plays,” my teammates lips tugged upward marginally. “Now, it’s not going to be easy, and we’ll more likely than not fail, but we’re not going to go down without a fight, got me? No more of Claude’s crap. Everyone disable your receivers in your helmets right now. If we do go down, we’ll go down our way not his. Now let’s give flangiprop the biggest comeback this sport has ever seen.”


Invent a definition for the word “flangiprop,” then use the word in a post.