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And here's part four of the Record Saga of Sterling Bengtzing! After the Nässjö setback, what will be of the polecat's 15-city estimate?
All part of the
furrybasketball universe!
All the dialogue in this piece is to be ICly in Swedish.
Thanks to MartineauQC for the help, owner of Sakarias.
===================================
August 11th. Stallarholmen, Sweden
The young badger gasped at what he saw on his phone and at the television, putting his hands over his muzzle. “Jävla fan...” he muttered under his breath, not believing the news: Sterling’s record has dropped a city mid-way.
“There’s a chance! There’s MY chance. I need to get working now! If it continues, this is exactly what I needed!” Viking’s thoughts ran wild in his head, immediately getting his phone, shooting jab after jab at the FBA star over twitter. The blond badger’s tail swishing around; excited, nervous, but so ready.
“This HAS to work...”
Somewhere in West Sweden.
Sterling sat on the edge of the van’s floor, the door’s wide open, hunched over. He didn’t expect any city to pull the plug, but the council could not procure the original venue or the players shortlisted, a perfect storm that left them no choice but to call it quits on the same day, much to their embarrassment. Roland tried to comfort him, as they waited for the adjudicator to come over with the results; a wait that seemed eternal. Eventually, as he logged off his phone call, the wolf returned to the pair.
“I called the office, and they said it’s not disqualifying grounds…” Alessio broke the news to the mustelids, the driver more relieved than the athlete “So, we got fourteen. cities now… we will continue the route as scheduled. Let’s go.” the canine nodded as he quickly took seat once again. Roland patted on Sterling’s back.
“It will still be a thing, cousin. And I can drive us there just in time to catch up easy.” he smiled to the dejected mustelid.
Sterling looked up, accommodating in his seat. “I promised and talked all about it being fifteen cities. The sponsors won’t be happy, regardless if it ain’t my fault.”
Roland looked over to the adjudicator, then to the polecat. “It’ll be fine. We’ll still get the record anyways. Now, let’s get moving. You gotta call Gränna and the rest of the cities on.” he commented, getting ready to make an U-turn for their next destination.
“I’ll find a way to give them fifteen, Roland. Promise.”
Stockholm, Sweden
“THAT NÄSSJÖ DID WHAT?” Ferdinand’s yelled, his frustration audible in all the household.
“It is a complicated issue honey, a lot of people and players go in this and anything could have happened.” Michelle told her husband.
“But on the last day? You don’t do that, not to my kid!” the older polecat grumbled. “No wonder why they haven’t produced any talent in years...” he paced through the room, his tail swishing, impatient.
“So he would do fourteen and not fifteen. And as Roland told us, Sterling’s record will still stand and they are going on.” Hakan, the mustelid’s brother, replied.
“It won’t look good to come short. It wouldn’t reflect any professionalism to ANY of the organizations in.” Ferdinand stressed to his brother. “We need to do something.”
“And what can we do, Ferdinand? The machine’s already going!” Roland’s mother added to the cacophony-to-be.
“Frida, don’t put it down...” he replied. It wasn’t long until there was a full on family argument on what to do about the lost leg of the tour, not a voice able to stand out from the crowd. Looking over at the scene in disdain, Ferdinand’s 98-year-old grandfather had enough, grabbing one of the glasses nearby, and dropping it on the floor, the shrill crack making the mustelid crowd silence and look at the elder.
“Will you control yourselves!? Thank you…” the grandfather stressed as much as he could in his soft voice. “This won’t get solved by yapping like a henhouse. I raised this family to do, not talk. Now behave all like adults and make sure my grandkid doesn’t look bad. Understood?”
The polecat family stood silent, digesting what the elder just told them. “Grandpa’s right...” Hakan broke the silence. “We may still have time to pull something off to help my nephew...”
Ferdinand stood pensive, looking over at all the relatives. Sure, he was on the best shape out of many, but there were many Sterling’s age... “Frida, do you have Roland’s number in handy?” he asked up.
“Ja, I do. He might be driving but he will call me. What for?”
“Can you call him and tell to pass to the adjudicator? I want to ask what is his stance on Solna, because I want the kid to do a little pitstop if time allows.” Ferdinand grinned.
The “fifth” game in Gränna started the most hastily, the player barely explaining the other participants about the incident or formally presenting to the rest.
D) Gränna (10:45 P.M)
Team 1:
Sterling Bengtzing
Jesper Berglund
Gjon Kuqi
Team 2:
Sven Johan Ljungkvist
Christoffer Sandell Álvarez
Inga Helmersson
21-19, Sterling’s team
“Really fucking sorry guys...” the polecat rubbed his temples.
“Seriously, fuck those people.” a large, blonde Malamute interjected. “I’m pretty sure you’ll make it happen, Mr. Bengtzing”
The mustelid nodded. “Sven, I ain’t flaking out. I’m doing these for all of you guys. Else, you’d be up in your Sami village shoveling reindeer shit all day today… Which is what the Dakota Bikers kinda do on a regular basis.” he smirked, trying his best to keep the good humor to the shocked and laughing crowd.
“Chris, you keep working in that Spanish league, I feel you’ll be up for big things. Jesper, Gjon, Inga… trust me, all of you guys, this has been an insane good group. I got high hopes for all of ya. What I needed after that fiasco. Fucking knock on wood, amirite?” Sterling told the group before hopping up to the van, the youngsters wishing him farewell.
“Mjölby’s set and ready, Sterls,” Roland told his cousin, before making sure he was ‘appropriately’ speeding.
“Any updates in the news or social media, Roland?” Sterling asked up.
“Nothing much really. The cities have been notified and the quotes have been coming. There are some people who are bitter as fuck you haven’t selected them to participate.” the driver talked up. “Something like ’You couldn’t fucking deal with the fact I woulda kicked your ass on my court, so course you had to eliminate me. Ya ain’t no man’ and that kinda shit”
Sterling scoffed. “His issue, not mine. Wait, Mjölby’s right here, let me get prepped...” he saw through the window, as he hastily changed his jersey in the car, struggling to handle the long, blonde locks, trademark to his style. It was a similar run, rushed at the beginning, little conversation, especially since this one was a smaller group. But when they got their game on, the mustelid’s stress and the anxiety melted away, focused on showcasing his talent alongside and against the youngsters, who were ranging from impressed to completely fawned over the athlete’s prowess. Sterling himself noted up whenever they managed to trip him up or sneaked a difficult shot. Cutting these people to twelve was going to be an odyssey, now deep at night, the van took away to the next town.
E) Mjölby (12:15 A.M)
Team 1:
Sterling Bengtzing
Niklas Jansson
Team 2:
Erika Lindberg
Valter Hallsson
21-13 Sterling’s team
“Linköping, I have arrived!”
Immediately, a genet ran screaming towards the polecat, excited to finally see him, trying to breathe to calm down. “I’ve waited so fucking long for this! I’m Jannik, all the way from Paris, realy to fucking make it big!”
“Paris? Holy shit, you traveled far! Are ya worth the plane’s trip?” Sterling taunted.
“You fucking bet I am!” Jannik smiled, immediately ordering his teammates to get in position, much to their charging.
“I didn’t come here for a fuckboy to order me up!” Hope Robertson, a rival in the opposing team interrupted, the group laughing it up.
“Let’s go!” Sterling said, throwing the ball in the air, going towards another good game.
“Think quick, Ola!” Sterling yelled, two players stopping in their tracks. “Ah, shit... not you! my teammate!” he pointed, the two rivaling players bearing the same name. “Don’t be actin’ brand new, you two!” he jested. This was a tight game from the start, the girls in the rival team easily sinking their shots, versus the multitude of attempts by Sterling’s team. In the end, the French-Swedish genet sealed the deal with nothing but net.
F) Linköping (1:30 A.M)
Team 1:
Sterling Bengtzing
Jannik Säfvenbom
Ola Hjelm
Daniella Berntsson
Team 2:
Ola Åkerman
Stefan Lundgren
Hope Robertson
Anna Lisa Hedlund
21-20, Sterling’s team
“You fucking rocked guys! The closest one yet!” Sterling smiled, nodding as the van went away, leaving the players (and an euphoric genet) behind. The rest of the cities had been taking tighter measures to stay prepped after what happened in Nässjö. Five furs collected around the benches by the street court in the next stop, Norrköping, chatting with each other about their experiences and anticipation of being accepted to aid in a world record.
“I really can’t wait! To be part of this deal is like... We want this, we deserve this, we all made it! We rock!” a civet by the name of Sanja Šabic told the rest as they quickly got their respective team bands on.
“Except for Joanna.” a lynx in the athlete encounter replied, sending the group in howling laughter, the tigress glaring at them.
The tigress was cornered by the rest, obviously making reference at the incident that was made public countrywide in July. “Hold up, no no no no no. Listen for a sec.”
Sakarias growls a bit turning his attention to her. “What’s there to explain, you nearly cost us our shot. You’re lucky he spared ya up!”
“Big deal, he woulda just cut me of-”
“Bitch! Sit down and shut the hell up bitch!” Marcus, the lynx, interrupted, the rest of the athlete group laughing at the feline, choosing to not fall for the insults.
The tall lion took the band for his team, decided to strap it on his left arm, tightly. “I’m into this, After that, I’m tearing my path into the FBA...”
“FBA draftee this year? Lucky bitch, you got invited to the record, we had to fucking audition...” a highland bull, getting geared up, told the lion.
Sakarias scoffs. “There’s a reason why I’m FBA bound. No need to audition. I’m just good.”
“Cuz you didn’t coke it up like Escobar here?” the lynx prodded again, the group sniggering, while the tigress reached her breaking point.
“Okay yes, I did admit and manned up when I got ousted from drug use. I would have gotten punished and I will.” she listed to the group. “What is the big deal you are fucking around with? We are all in yet!”
Marcus scoffed. “It is what it is, you chose to break the rules and fuck around with cocaine, and you could have taken one of our spots away. Nothing personal, just factual. Speaking of factual, here’s another fact, all of these people are better than you...” the lynx pointed out, making Sanja, Magnus and Sakarias fall silent.
“Now you let me speak for one second!” Johanna attempted to shush Marcus. “You talked enough, now it’s my turn.”
“Act the fucking fool, won’t ya?” Marcus’ comment cut through the group.
“I’m not-” Johanna’s ears shoot up, shooting a leer at the fellow feline.
“Act the fool...”
Before anyone else could chip in more, the sight of the decorated van made everyone stop on their tracks and recompose as they cheered on Sterling. The polecat quickly assessed the participants of this game, making a stop at the tigress.
“Johanna?” Sterling looked at the tigress, trying hard to hide the disdain over the small scene she caused. “Andra chansen...” his only words to her, sending some chills down her spine, but filling her with determination.
“Norrköping, are you ready?!” Sterling yelled, before throwing the ball up. Immediately, the tigress attempted to steal the ball from the professional athlete, who with ease predicted the feline’s intent and sank the first shot of the game. The polecat could tell his teammates were struggling in comparison to the rival ones, yet they were sinking shot after shot in determination. The big lion blocked one of the professional athlete’s shots, as well as Johanna succeeding on getting a hard steal on Sterling. Twenty minutes later, it was 19 a piece, with a good shot putting each of them on the winning side. Sanja took one faithful 2-point shot, but was blocked by the tigress, sprinting towards the other end of the court, her teammates pleading for an easy pass and point. Johanna chose to ignore them, stunting her teammates. The tigress, stepped back, and threw the ball from behind the line in a risky attempt, ignoring her teammates. The collective group gasped, including Roland and Alessio.
G) Norrköping (3:00 A.M)
Team 1:
Sterling Bengtzing
Magnus Magnusson
Sanja Šabic
Team 2:
Sakarias Ekholm
Marcus Rostowski
Johanna Karlsson
19-21, Rival Team
This was the first game Sterling’s assigned team lost. The two male felines celebrating out loud, but the tigress still speechless, looking over at the opposite team, anxious over what the professional athlete had to say, slowly walking over to them.
“You pretty much did what many thought impossible… Congratulations.” he nodded in respect. “Sakarias, wish you the best of luck with the FBA. I can’t assess you that much or help you, as you’re not eligible for the Stormvind campaign, but you got the rough goods. Time to prove them in the big leagues.” he said, turning over to the tigress who was in the talk of all on that court. “Johanna… you really fucked up then, you were at risk of expulsion of this record, of expelling someone else too, to make the teams even… I gave you a chance… and you kicked it off the park.” he smiled, nodding, the tigress’ eyes glowing. “It’s not about fucking up once and end it there, it’s about rebounding. And when you sank that shot, you proved you’re more than a white row lover. But I got to say that, if you want this, you gotta fix those steps and get back on track, understood? This is the big leagues, and there are no second chances when it comes to that...”
As he was watching over his cousin giving his appointed post-game talk to the aspiring players, Roland swiped through Sterling’s phone. Besides his mom and Sterling’s dad messaging over the Nässjö issue and plans they agreed on, there was a point they all came from the same person. All in an ill-intentioned tone and venom-filled redaction. Jab after jab. “A hundred messages in half an hour? Jävla fan… Sterling will not like it...” he thought to himself, as the mustelid saw more of those messages coming and coming with each refresh of the feed.
All part of the
furrybasketball universe!All the dialogue in this piece is to be ICly in Swedish.
Thanks to MartineauQC for the help, owner of Sakarias.
===================================
August 11th. Stallarholmen, Sweden
The young badger gasped at what he saw on his phone and at the television, putting his hands over his muzzle. “Jävla fan...” he muttered under his breath, not believing the news: Sterling’s record has dropped a city mid-way.
“There’s a chance! There’s MY chance. I need to get working now! If it continues, this is exactly what I needed!” Viking’s thoughts ran wild in his head, immediately getting his phone, shooting jab after jab at the FBA star over twitter. The blond badger’s tail swishing around; excited, nervous, but so ready.
“This HAS to work...”
Somewhere in West Sweden.
Sterling sat on the edge of the van’s floor, the door’s wide open, hunched over. He didn’t expect any city to pull the plug, but the council could not procure the original venue or the players shortlisted, a perfect storm that left them no choice but to call it quits on the same day, much to their embarrassment. Roland tried to comfort him, as they waited for the adjudicator to come over with the results; a wait that seemed eternal. Eventually, as he logged off his phone call, the wolf returned to the pair.
“I called the office, and they said it’s not disqualifying grounds…” Alessio broke the news to the mustelids, the driver more relieved than the athlete “So, we got fourteen. cities now… we will continue the route as scheduled. Let’s go.” the canine nodded as he quickly took seat once again. Roland patted on Sterling’s back.
“It will still be a thing, cousin. And I can drive us there just in time to catch up easy.” he smiled to the dejected mustelid.
Sterling looked up, accommodating in his seat. “I promised and talked all about it being fifteen cities. The sponsors won’t be happy, regardless if it ain’t my fault.”
Roland looked over to the adjudicator, then to the polecat. “It’ll be fine. We’ll still get the record anyways. Now, let’s get moving. You gotta call Gränna and the rest of the cities on.” he commented, getting ready to make an U-turn for their next destination.
“I’ll find a way to give them fifteen, Roland. Promise.”
Stockholm, Sweden
“THAT NÄSSJÖ DID WHAT?” Ferdinand’s yelled, his frustration audible in all the household.
“It is a complicated issue honey, a lot of people and players go in this and anything could have happened.” Michelle told her husband.
“But on the last day? You don’t do that, not to my kid!” the older polecat grumbled. “No wonder why they haven’t produced any talent in years...” he paced through the room, his tail swishing, impatient.
“So he would do fourteen and not fifteen. And as Roland told us, Sterling’s record will still stand and they are going on.” Hakan, the mustelid’s brother, replied.
“It won’t look good to come short. It wouldn’t reflect any professionalism to ANY of the organizations in.” Ferdinand stressed to his brother. “We need to do something.”
“And what can we do, Ferdinand? The machine’s already going!” Roland’s mother added to the cacophony-to-be.
“Frida, don’t put it down...” he replied. It wasn’t long until there was a full on family argument on what to do about the lost leg of the tour, not a voice able to stand out from the crowd. Looking over at the scene in disdain, Ferdinand’s 98-year-old grandfather had enough, grabbing one of the glasses nearby, and dropping it on the floor, the shrill crack making the mustelid crowd silence and look at the elder.
“Will you control yourselves!? Thank you…” the grandfather stressed as much as he could in his soft voice. “This won’t get solved by yapping like a henhouse. I raised this family to do, not talk. Now behave all like adults and make sure my grandkid doesn’t look bad. Understood?”
The polecat family stood silent, digesting what the elder just told them. “Grandpa’s right...” Hakan broke the silence. “We may still have time to pull something off to help my nephew...”
Ferdinand stood pensive, looking over at all the relatives. Sure, he was on the best shape out of many, but there were many Sterling’s age... “Frida, do you have Roland’s number in handy?” he asked up.
“Ja, I do. He might be driving but he will call me. What for?”
“Can you call him and tell to pass to the adjudicator? I want to ask what is his stance on Solna, because I want the kid to do a little pitstop if time allows.” Ferdinand grinned.
The “fifth” game in Gränna started the most hastily, the player barely explaining the other participants about the incident or formally presenting to the rest.
D) Gränna (10:45 P.M)
Team 1:
Sterling Bengtzing
Jesper Berglund
Gjon Kuqi
Team 2:
Sven Johan Ljungkvist
Christoffer Sandell Álvarez
Inga Helmersson
21-19, Sterling’s team
“Really fucking sorry guys...” the polecat rubbed his temples.
“Seriously, fuck those people.” a large, blonde Malamute interjected. “I’m pretty sure you’ll make it happen, Mr. Bengtzing”
The mustelid nodded. “Sven, I ain’t flaking out. I’m doing these for all of you guys. Else, you’d be up in your Sami village shoveling reindeer shit all day today… Which is what the Dakota Bikers kinda do on a regular basis.” he smirked, trying his best to keep the good humor to the shocked and laughing crowd.
“Chris, you keep working in that Spanish league, I feel you’ll be up for big things. Jesper, Gjon, Inga… trust me, all of you guys, this has been an insane good group. I got high hopes for all of ya. What I needed after that fiasco. Fucking knock on wood, amirite?” Sterling told the group before hopping up to the van, the youngsters wishing him farewell.
“Mjölby’s set and ready, Sterls,” Roland told his cousin, before making sure he was ‘appropriately’ speeding.
“Any updates in the news or social media, Roland?” Sterling asked up.
“Nothing much really. The cities have been notified and the quotes have been coming. There are some people who are bitter as fuck you haven’t selected them to participate.” the driver talked up. “Something like ’You couldn’t fucking deal with the fact I woulda kicked your ass on my court, so course you had to eliminate me. Ya ain’t no man’ and that kinda shit”
Sterling scoffed. “His issue, not mine. Wait, Mjölby’s right here, let me get prepped...” he saw through the window, as he hastily changed his jersey in the car, struggling to handle the long, blonde locks, trademark to his style. It was a similar run, rushed at the beginning, little conversation, especially since this one was a smaller group. But when they got their game on, the mustelid’s stress and the anxiety melted away, focused on showcasing his talent alongside and against the youngsters, who were ranging from impressed to completely fawned over the athlete’s prowess. Sterling himself noted up whenever they managed to trip him up or sneaked a difficult shot. Cutting these people to twelve was going to be an odyssey, now deep at night, the van took away to the next town.
E) Mjölby (12:15 A.M)
Team 1:
Sterling Bengtzing
Niklas Jansson
Team 2:
Erika Lindberg
Valter Hallsson
21-13 Sterling’s team
“Linköping, I have arrived!”
Immediately, a genet ran screaming towards the polecat, excited to finally see him, trying to breathe to calm down. “I’ve waited so fucking long for this! I’m Jannik, all the way from Paris, realy to fucking make it big!”
“Paris? Holy shit, you traveled far! Are ya worth the plane’s trip?” Sterling taunted.
“You fucking bet I am!” Jannik smiled, immediately ordering his teammates to get in position, much to their charging.
“I didn’t come here for a fuckboy to order me up!” Hope Robertson, a rival in the opposing team interrupted, the group laughing it up.
“Let’s go!” Sterling said, throwing the ball in the air, going towards another good game.
“Think quick, Ola!” Sterling yelled, two players stopping in their tracks. “Ah, shit... not you! my teammate!” he pointed, the two rivaling players bearing the same name. “Don’t be actin’ brand new, you two!” he jested. This was a tight game from the start, the girls in the rival team easily sinking their shots, versus the multitude of attempts by Sterling’s team. In the end, the French-Swedish genet sealed the deal with nothing but net.
F) Linköping (1:30 A.M)
Team 1:
Sterling Bengtzing
Jannik Säfvenbom
Ola Hjelm
Daniella Berntsson
Team 2:
Ola Åkerman
Stefan Lundgren
Hope Robertson
Anna Lisa Hedlund
21-20, Sterling’s team
“You fucking rocked guys! The closest one yet!” Sterling smiled, nodding as the van went away, leaving the players (and an euphoric genet) behind. The rest of the cities had been taking tighter measures to stay prepped after what happened in Nässjö. Five furs collected around the benches by the street court in the next stop, Norrköping, chatting with each other about their experiences and anticipation of being accepted to aid in a world record.
“I really can’t wait! To be part of this deal is like... We want this, we deserve this, we all made it! We rock!” a civet by the name of Sanja Šabic told the rest as they quickly got their respective team bands on.
“Except for Joanna.” a lynx in the athlete encounter replied, sending the group in howling laughter, the tigress glaring at them.
The tigress was cornered by the rest, obviously making reference at the incident that was made public countrywide in July. “Hold up, no no no no no. Listen for a sec.”
Sakarias growls a bit turning his attention to her. “What’s there to explain, you nearly cost us our shot. You’re lucky he spared ya up!”
“Big deal, he woulda just cut me of-”
“Bitch! Sit down and shut the hell up bitch!” Marcus, the lynx, interrupted, the rest of the athlete group laughing at the feline, choosing to not fall for the insults.
The tall lion took the band for his team, decided to strap it on his left arm, tightly. “I’m into this, After that, I’m tearing my path into the FBA...”
“FBA draftee this year? Lucky bitch, you got invited to the record, we had to fucking audition...” a highland bull, getting geared up, told the lion.
Sakarias scoffs. “There’s a reason why I’m FBA bound. No need to audition. I’m just good.”
“Cuz you didn’t coke it up like Escobar here?” the lynx prodded again, the group sniggering, while the tigress reached her breaking point.
“Okay yes, I did admit and manned up when I got ousted from drug use. I would have gotten punished and I will.” she listed to the group. “What is the big deal you are fucking around with? We are all in yet!”
Marcus scoffed. “It is what it is, you chose to break the rules and fuck around with cocaine, and you could have taken one of our spots away. Nothing personal, just factual. Speaking of factual, here’s another fact, all of these people are better than you...” the lynx pointed out, making Sanja, Magnus and Sakarias fall silent.
“Now you let me speak for one second!” Johanna attempted to shush Marcus. “You talked enough, now it’s my turn.”
“Act the fucking fool, won’t ya?” Marcus’ comment cut through the group.
“I’m not-” Johanna’s ears shoot up, shooting a leer at the fellow feline.
“Act the fool...”
Before anyone else could chip in more, the sight of the decorated van made everyone stop on their tracks and recompose as they cheered on Sterling. The polecat quickly assessed the participants of this game, making a stop at the tigress.
“Johanna?” Sterling looked at the tigress, trying hard to hide the disdain over the small scene she caused. “Andra chansen...” his only words to her, sending some chills down her spine, but filling her with determination.
“Norrköping, are you ready?!” Sterling yelled, before throwing the ball up. Immediately, the tigress attempted to steal the ball from the professional athlete, who with ease predicted the feline’s intent and sank the first shot of the game. The polecat could tell his teammates were struggling in comparison to the rival ones, yet they were sinking shot after shot in determination. The big lion blocked one of the professional athlete’s shots, as well as Johanna succeeding on getting a hard steal on Sterling. Twenty minutes later, it was 19 a piece, with a good shot putting each of them on the winning side. Sanja took one faithful 2-point shot, but was blocked by the tigress, sprinting towards the other end of the court, her teammates pleading for an easy pass and point. Johanna chose to ignore them, stunting her teammates. The tigress, stepped back, and threw the ball from behind the line in a risky attempt, ignoring her teammates. The collective group gasped, including Roland and Alessio.
G) Norrköping (3:00 A.M)
Team 1:
Sterling Bengtzing
Magnus Magnusson
Sanja Šabic
Team 2:
Sakarias Ekholm
Marcus Rostowski
Johanna Karlsson
19-21, Rival Team
This was the first game Sterling’s assigned team lost. The two male felines celebrating out loud, but the tigress still speechless, looking over at the opposite team, anxious over what the professional athlete had to say, slowly walking over to them.
“You pretty much did what many thought impossible… Congratulations.” he nodded in respect. “Sakarias, wish you the best of luck with the FBA. I can’t assess you that much or help you, as you’re not eligible for the Stormvind campaign, but you got the rough goods. Time to prove them in the big leagues.” he said, turning over to the tigress who was in the talk of all on that court. “Johanna… you really fucked up then, you were at risk of expulsion of this record, of expelling someone else too, to make the teams even… I gave you a chance… and you kicked it off the park.” he smiled, nodding, the tigress’ eyes glowing. “It’s not about fucking up once and end it there, it’s about rebounding. And when you sank that shot, you proved you’re more than a white row lover. But I got to say that, if you want this, you gotta fix those steps and get back on track, understood? This is the big leagues, and there are no second chances when it comes to that...”
As he was watching over his cousin giving his appointed post-game talk to the aspiring players, Roland swiped through Sterling’s phone. Besides his mom and Sterling’s dad messaging over the Nässjö issue and plans they agreed on, there was a point they all came from the same person. All in an ill-intentioned tone and venom-filled redaction. Jab after jab. “A hundred messages in half an hour? Jävla fan… Sterling will not like it...” he thought to himself, as the mustelid saw more of those messages coming and coming with each refresh of the feed.
Category All / All
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 348 x 248px
File Size 162.6 kB
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