SpaceSquid had a difficult day today. All he had was the simple dream of winning at badminton. That became impossible, though, when it became clear that he and his naïve friends were playing with that most ancient and evil of shuttlecocks, that centrepiece of Satan’s own games set: the Doomcock.
Many are the legends of the Doomcock. Some say its flight is crafted from the gossamer wings of captured angels. Others say that the Doomcock was forged in the fires of Mount Olympus by the Greeks who first invented the game, because this was back in the days when the Greeks still actually got things done, even if the thing in question was the creation of the most diabolically evil high-drag projectile in sporting history. Still more claim the spirits of the dead weigh down the Doomcock, making it impossible to hit it over the net. They go on to say that it once made a child go blind, but that the child was ugly and quite whiny so no-one really minded all that much.
One cannot serve the Doomcock; for to touch the Doomcock is to have your soul flayed from your very body. One simply approaches the Doomcock as it hovers menacingly, and attempts to nudge it forward without its baleful stare stripping the flesh from your bones. Those who attempt to return the Doomcock explode in a gout of hellfire, condemned to spend eternity umpiring badminton matches between demons who cheat constantly and release unbearable flatulence with each smash shot.
The only way to win with the Doomcock is to become one with it. To feel and share its lust for human flesh and a strong backhand. Sure, through joining with the Doomcock, one becomes unbeatable, but at what cost?
At what cost?
Later on, it turned out that it was a normal shuttlecock, and that SpaceSquid is terrible at badminton. The Doomcock still remains at large somewhere.
Waiting.
4 comments:
To improve your chances of winning, I suggest donning dungarees and a fetching red cap, growing a moustache, and hurling occasional red or green sauropsida at your opponents. Don't forget to double-tap the racquet.
However, be wary of friendly spherical ghosts who may inadvertently summon the Doomcock with a misplaced super move.
Do rotund Italian plumbers excel at all racquet-based sports then? Or is only the highly questionable practise of fungi-flinging that gives them any sort of advantage? Sorry, 'avantage'...
Egalité!
I figure once you've got tennis, golf, baseball, basketball, football, karting, armed and unarmed combat, and half the entire Olympic Games under your belt, we can take the rest as given.
Everyone excels at badminton. It's the easiest sport in the world. That's why I love it. I only keep losing because other people are excelling to even greater degrees than I can manage.
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