Remember, what ain’t mine ain’t mine. Bella, Roma, Urea is not mine. It’s Showstopper’s. Ditto for Abigail Reed. And the church of Hama.

EPIWL Forever

Game 2 – The Day That Pigs Flew

January 15th, 2025, enroute to Roma, Urea

A large spaceship with a chrome exterior is zooming towards the planet. The only thing not chrome is the logos of the Lili Island Jewels, and the Three-Hoopies, a company that owns the Jewels. Atop the spaceship is a statue of….three hoopies.

Inside, a smell suggesting the ship is new permeates the air. There are a couple of gyms where the players do basic exercise and drills. There is not enough room inside to have a practice match. Everyone is still in awe, as this is a new spaceship. They never needed one before, since the Jewels were in PD/DP Earth League First Division, and flew commercially for the rare exhibition matches on other worlds. But now, in the Elite, it was a whole new (wing)ball game. The spaceship also had a mess hall and galley, showers, and a separate section for the traveling press.

In one of the bedrooms of the players, a woman is lying down, weeping. She has a red sarong wrapped around her haphazardly. A uniform hung on a closet door gave away who she was. Lia, number 42.

There was a knock at the door. “Come in,” said Lia.

In walked Tiki, the captain. “What’s the matter?”

“I let you down.”

“That’s stupid. You didn’t.”

“I couldn’t get the ball in…”

“You had an off day. We all do. And that asshole pounded on you. The ref was too easy. The doctor thinks you should be okay.”

“I no longer feel dizzy, but now I’m thinking too much.”

“About what?”

“Because of that hitting on the head…I am reminded of…Malie!”

“And who is…”

“My last boyfriend. He hit me. He didn’t let me be with my friends. He was a control freak, and he treated his car better than he treated me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“He called me names, and sometimes promised things would get better. They never did. I eventually left him, and my family thanked me for it. I got into wingball because I wanted something new.”

“And could he play wingball?”

“No, he tried though. But he was clumsy in the air. But he told me not to tell anyone.”

“So you’re better than him. What does he do anyways?”

“Sometimes he was on Employment Insurance, but he got jobs at gas-stations and he once did something at the Botanical Gardens, but he was fired.”

“There you go. You don’t need him, and he ain’t good enough for you. And if you think about him during the game, imagine that the ball is his head. Kick it like you would his head.”

“I will. Fa’afetai.”

“You’re welcome. In ten minutes we’re having lunch. Please come. It will do you good, and we’ll be ready for the game today.”

W---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Much Later

The usual logo and opening intro appears. We see our hosts sitting at a desk. “Welcome to Bella, in the country Roma, on the planet Urea. Here we are at the Bella Athletic Arena, where two teams will once again compete in a match.”

“And as usual, only one can win, the better team,” shouted Lemon.

“Tonight’s match, the home team is the Urean Ai’a’ive Association Pua’a Toa or Brave Pigs.”

“The Brave Pigs? What kind of name is that? Who ever heard of a pig playing wingball?”

“Whoever heard of hockey playing ducks?”

“Good point. But they’ll win the day pigs fly.”

“There’s a reason Don feels this way. All of the viewers will get to see an explanation of the reason why.”

CROSS FADE--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A woman with both blue wings and pointed ears is standing there. Next to her is a chalkboard. “Hi, I’m Sala Moli Ai’a’ive. I will explain to you the concept of wild cards. Most of the teams in the Elite are there because they truly are the elite. But for variety, and to encourage the sport, several teams that would otherwise not make it have been promoted.” She drew a diagram with large rectangles representing the divisions of the Elite league, and which teams were in which. “Because there’s 64 teams, it has to be divided into divisions, and most matches are intra-division, except for a few ‘cross-lines’ matches, and of course, the finals.” She then drew a few circles. “These represent lower order leagues that most of the Elite are from. But the Pigs are not. They haven’t been a first order club, because there’s not much in the way of competition. There only actual matches against worthy opponents have all been in defeat, one even with a 500 point gap. But they’ve got potential. Let’s see if they can win, and if they can capture heart here in Roma, where wrestling and basketball are bigger deals. Another interesting fact about the Pigs, only two of them are pure Ai’a’ive. Most of them are afa-tasi or mixed race. Consequently, skin and hair come in far more colors than is usual.”

CROSS-FADE----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A view of the inside is shown. “As you may notice, this is an indoor arena. You have Wingball games outdoors and indoors. All you need is space.” The camera pans around, showing the floor, where a wrestling ring is to one side. There’s also a basketball court. “When this arena was smaller, the famous Galactic Woman’s Wrestling Association started, back in 1998, or 8991 as they say here. The Chosen Ai’a’ive Sara Vaosa even wrestled in that league, the stories are true. In 8991, history was made on the ground of this arena. Tonight, in 5202, history is made above the ground.” A camera then showed the ceiling, where there was a network of tracks, and several strange booth-like structures hanging from them. Seated in each one, and secured by seatbelts, was a game official. “Due to a lack of winged referees, creative measures had to be taken.” The camera moves around, to show the sides. There are a few score hoops that double as basketball hoops, and some of them are even horizontal. There’s also a horseshow-shaped tube with several lights on it. “This is the Big Score. When a player slams a ball into it on the enemy’s side, a counter goes on. Whoever gets six counters first, gets big points. 250, times the period. It may only be used by one team, and only once, in each period. Now look at the sides.” The camera did so. There were jumbles of tubes on either side. Some even went up and arched over the field. “These are called the Warp Tubes. You throw the ball into an entrance, and then WHOOSH, it’s sent to the other side. Indoor arenas come up with all kinds of gimmicks to make up for the fact it’s indoors. And it’s perfectly allowed.”

Trumpets blare, segueing into the Theme from Rocky, and the Jewels walk in, with their color schemes reversed, as they are wearing their “away” uniforms. The players dance and wave their arms to “Gotta Fly Now” yelled in the song. Their troupe of cheerleaders flew around. After that, the lights dim, bright strobe lights flash and search lights move around. Bright lights focused on members of the Brave Pigs, as they walked in. The Pigs were generally wearing cream and brown. Their jerseys resemble basketball jerseys. Several things are noticeable. Many of them have pale skin, except for a few who have very dark skin. The names on the jerseys are mostly English sounding, except for a handful of nicknames. Even more noticeably, most of the men had their sarongs on in sloppy manners, in some cases it was tied unusually. The crude ways they wore their sarongs revealed that they were wearing bicycle shorts, basketball shorts, or Bermuda shorts (it varied from player to player) underneath, with visible logos on them. One of the female players was wearing a short dress with visible bicycle shorts underneath, another one was wearing a badly-wrapped sarong over a leotard. On the PA system Michael Jackson’s “Jam” started playing at deafening volume, and the players danced in place, some of them lifting up their sarongs and shaking their posteriors, while making pig noises. A loud chorus of “OINK, OINK, OINK, OINK!” came from their fans. Then some of the players flew into the air, and began slam-dunking Wingballs through the nets and hoops, and doing all manner of feats and tricks. On the ground, a group of cheerleaders who had painted their skin like pigs, and wore short pink dresses, were dancing. The only two who had wings were flying around, and sometimes even helping the players with their ball tricks. The song ended, and everyone landed, amid cheering and squealing.

“Ever seen that?” asked the voiceover of Peia. “I’m not sure if they even know what sport they’re in.”

“If they have to get that fancy,” commented Don Lemon, “they probably want to hide the fact that they suck. I’m not saying it because I’m biased, I’m sayin’ it ‘cause it’s true. All you kids at home know they haven’t won a single game. They’re not even fit to be a farm team.” Peia laughed at that. “If they even want to tie, they better improve, alright?”

“It seems certain, but in Wingball, nothing is certain,” commented Peia.

“You got that right, for sure, for sure!”

Both national anthems were sung, and the first whistle was sounded. The players flew off the ground, and assumed positions.

On an elevated catwalk, above where the ref pods are, a woman is seen walking to the middle. She has blonde hair, and is wearing a purple woman’s business suit. She’s carrying a Wingball.

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” blare the loudspeakers, “Ms. Abigail Reed.” Through the air are chants of “Silk, Silk, Silk.”

“It’s fitting that the founder of the GWWA, which used to wrestle in this building before they moved to a newer venue, is dropping the ball for the first Elite wingball game in here,” explained Peia.

“That’s doing Wingball a discredit,” said Don Lemon. “Come’on!”

“Yes, but wrestling is nothing but a big fight!”

“Yes, but I like it more when you don’t know who’s gonna win.”

“Quiet, I think she has something to say!”

“I’m honored to start the match once again. This arena has a special place in my heart. Even though the arena itself has changed, what hasn’t is the audience who likes a good match. I have no control this time, but I say it will be a blast. HAVE FUN!” She threw down the ball, and a whistle sounded. The two teams both rushed at the ball.

FF

The Jewels were leading, 100-0. Tiki threw the ball towards the 30 point hoop, but a red haired man and orange winged man, Stevens (33), spiked the ball away, towards Lia. Lia kicked the ball, and it flew into the Big Score, and most of the lights were already lit. Bells rang, and a two-tone airhorn sounded. The lights flashed, and now the Jewels were ahead 350-0. “GOOOOOOOALLLLL!” screamed Peia, “THE BIG SCORE HAS BEEN SCORED!” However, as this was not considered a full “goal,” even if Peia screamed and the score climbed, and there was a definite horseshoe-shape to the tube, the goalie, a muscular grey-winged man with black hair known as Magnum P.I.G. (1) He flew forward.

“Yup, the Pigs are losin’ it, the goalie’s lost it, his dumb bicycle shorts even say Insayn on them, the goalie’s tryin’ to…what’s this?” He threw it into a Warp Tube. On the other side of the field, where the woman in the short dress, identified as Porka Rosa (and she did have pink wings) and by the number 16, grabbed the ball and headed towards the other end. Gorilla got into position to intercept her, but she fooled him by pretending to throw to Bonano (5), and then he tossed it into the 40-point ring. “Amazin’, the Pigs, or the Harlem Globetrotters with Wings, as I like to call ‘em, can actually score in a serious game!” Porka Rosa celebrated by hitching up her dress to just above her stomach, and dancing with kicking her legs about. “Yup, Harlem Globetrotters with Wings. And the Sow has to showboat. Enjoy it, Porka, this is all you’ll get.”

“How can you say that?” asked Peia.

“With my mouth, how else?”

Fans in the audience were shouting “Go girl, go girl, go girl, go girl,” and then segued into an “Oink, oink, oink, oink, oink, oink, oink, oink!” chant.

The Ref used claws attached to the underside of his pod to hold the ball. He released it, and the players went towards it again. The Jewels spread out, and they executed a strategic play that involved heavy use of the warp tubes. During the third time the ball was in a tube, however, airhorns sounded, meaning that the first period was over.

“The Jewels have a lead, but can they keep it?” asked Peia.

“Of course, this game is just a joke, nothin’ more!”

COMMERCIAL BREAK----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The familiar logo for Coach Box appears. It is still sponsored by Manuia Beverages. Then Don Lemon is shown sitting in a room with a man in brown. “Kids, tonight we have Aleo Afa’ese Ai’a’ive, or Triple A as we call him.”

“Please, just call me Al,” said the man.

“But you’re just the head coach of the Jewels.”

“And there’s 63 other head coaches out there. And it’s not a one man job. There’s assistant coaches, a goalie coach, fitness instructors, a traveling doctor, two nurses, and don’t forget our roadies and PR and our pilot, and even the kitchen staff aboard our spaceship. Which is called the Flying Goal, by the way!”

“How appropriate. So, where do you see the Jewels?”

“On the playing field, I should hope!”

“You know that’s not what I meant. I mean will they win?”

“Certainly!” A replay of Lia’s kick is shown. “If she keeps this up, we’ll be far ahead of them. Sometimes playing off the goalie can help. And that’s why Gorilla has to be careful of tactics like that, and anyone who will fool him.” Porka Rosa’s goal is replayed. “Or else the Sow gets to score.”

“But come on, that team sucks.”

“Yes, but they aren’t sucking as much. They’ve had a couple of exhibition matches, not to mention they were part of the short-lived IYF-WB, In Yo’ Face Wing Ball. They tried to hook up with the GWWA but they said get loss. Which is good, because they don’t need losers on their hands. But now the Pigs want to make a name for themselves!”

“I still say the pigs will be bacon at the end of this.”

“And I say that we are doing everything to make sure it happens!”

“Well that’s good, because if you didn’t say that, I’d say that you weren’t cut out to be a coach, kid!”

“Thank you.”

“Who’s the greatest star of the Jewels right now?”

“Come on, Lemon, we all know the answer!”

“Let’s suppose I was stupid!”

“And I think a few people do suppose that!”

“Whatever. What’s the answer?”

Behind the two men, a large picture of Lia, mid-kick, is shown, at just the right angle that you can almost, but not quite, see up her dress, and the ball is at just the right point that one would wonder if it was put to cover up something. But it was a legitimate shot of number 42 doing what she does best. “LIA!” shouted the two in unison.

“No wonder why so many try to get in her way,” said Don.

“Of course. That was Stevens’ mistake. You musn’t slip up when Lia is anywhere near, and if you send the ball to her, you’re signing your own death warrant! Last game was interesting, because someone incapacitated her. But it showed us one thing.”

“And what’s that?”

“Who our other great players are.” Replays of Vave were shown. “Vave’s definitely a rising star. So keep an eye at for him. If you can follow him.”

“You can say that again!” The two laughed at that.

Then there was a replay of Tiki, Lala, Don, and Stereo pinball-passing. “Pinball, it’s great to be a pinball wizard. It can be nice and confusing. Tiki, Lala, Don, and Stereo worked very well. I think there’s a chemistry. And it’s the perfect set up for a goal.”

“And now for the more important thing. FIGHTS!”

“This game shouldn’t be about fights,” complained Al as the hits and attacks and blocks of the previous game were shown. Folo “grounding” Choke was shown, along with Bel-Tyson going ballistic on Lia. “He only got a green card. That’s not right. This game shouldn’t be about fights.”

“Well it is, stop whinin’ and enjoy it. Just like those idiots who say Hockey isn’t supposed to be violent. You’re damn right it’s supposed to be, and Wingball is that way too. I want people shashing each other, hittin’ each other, taken’ names and taken’ it out on each other. Wingball ain’t wingball without the fights!”

“On that note, we’ll return to the game! At least I have to!”

“See you at the game, after THIS!” Don waved his right arm to emphasize the “this.”

COMMERCIAL BREAK----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The ref’s pod dropped the ball. Once again, the teams sprung into action. “And the pigs are still mad,” said Peia, “because the Jewels are still ahead, but can they stay there? Lala is going for one of the b-ball hoops, if she can slam-dunk then there’s an extra…UNBELIEVABLE!” Tackled out of the air by Magnum P.I.G., that was block-tacular!”

“You’re usin’ them tacular words again?”

“Yes-tacular!” A couple of Pigs were using the Tubes to their advantage. Another Pig, Michael (23) took the ball. “And Michael is headed for…This is bad-tacular!” Don groaned. “He just pushed off Gorilla, but not in any way for the refs to complain. He has the horizontal hoop, and he’s slamming…what’s this?” As soon as the ball passed through, he grabbed it with his legs, pushed off but held onto the net, and flipped over, to slam the ball in again with his legs, just as Gorilla came onto him to try stopping him. “This Pig is a bull. He’s number 23 and named Michael, his wings just happen to be red, and yes, those are basketball shorts he has underneath his craptacularly tied lavalava, so he has to go b-ball on us, and the rules are the net is worth 20 points, slam dunking it doubles it, double-dunking quadruples that double, so….160 points.”

“What’s wrong with our team?” demanded Don, “now these clowns are actually playin’.”

“Maybe they were a sleeper, waiting for this moment,” said Peia. “Everything’s possible.”

“But this…they’re a friggin’ wildcard!”

“And so was the Chosen Ai’a’ive. Sara Vaosa’s wrestling ‘career’ started with the luck of being in a wildcard draw with her partner, whose name escapes me right now! Anyhow, we are 350 to 200.”

FF

The score was now tied 400-all. And the Big Scores were both set so that just one light was left. But the rules stipulated that once the Big Score activated for one team, the other would go dead. Porka-Rosa and Lala were in contention for the ball. The ball, and firsts, passed between them. Eventually Simpson (32) of the Pigs came from behind and pulled down on Lala’s legs, and then slammed her onto the wrestling mat below.

“That was stupid, it’s a groundin’ for sure,” mused Don.

Lala slowly recovered, dazed and disoriented. “What? No penalty? Are they blind as…oh no!” Some of the crowd was just as puzzled, and some were pointing their middle fingers at the ref-pods.

“What, Peia?”

“House rules, the wrestling mat is considered soft enough that if there’s no blood, there’s no card.”

Lala flew upwards, but was off course. And Porka-Rosa scored in the Big-Score, changing the score to 900-400, advantage Pigs. The Jewels fans were all booing loudly. Don’s dog Purple barked in disbelief.

“Off, Number 3, Lala. Medical. On, Number 4, Susu! Off, Number 5, Mambo. Substitution. On, Number 16-34, Petunia!”

Lala walked off, and was replaced by another woman, Susu. Susu had enormous cyan wings with a few purple streaks on them. She had long hair that was tied in multiple braids, and she was slightly portly. She also had a strange tattoo on her right cheek.

“Come on,” shouted Don. “You kids at hoe should know that this is NOT the time for experimentin’ with such odd subtitutes!”

“Susu has her legions of fans,” warned Peia. “Besides, maybe she too is a sleeper.”

“She’s the crappiest player on the team, no doubts about that.”

“Well,” said Peia, awkwardly, “what do you think about Petunia?”

“That sow?” Petunia was distinguished by a few things. Including the fact that she was NOT Ai’a’ive at all. She had almond colored skin, and long light purple hair. She wore flowers over either ear. She also had moth-like antennae growing out of her head. Her wings were fur-covered, and oddly shaped. They seemed like a broad leaf. She was dressed with a sarong wrapped around her neck like a thick bandana. Besides that she was wearing a high-cut leotard that had a crossed hammer and drill on it, and “Shaun’s Hardware” in letters below that. She slowly walked into the position and sashayed, before taking to the air. “Someone tell her this ain’t a beauty contest, it’s Wingball!”

The whistle sounded, and Petunia grabbed the ball immediately. “I think she knows! Besides, she’s also in…”

“Yeah, I know, she’s also in golf, volleyball, and pentathlon. She’s also gottena special waiver to have that ridiculous double-number!”

Petunia then spiked the ball, and it went through one of the basketball hoops, and rebounded and hit Gorilla in the back, who instinctively kicked it, getting it into a 20 point ring.

“30 point basket, Petunia, plus 20 point ring, an own goal by Gorilla, how unlucky can you get?”

“It’s a rotten shame,” said Don. “Kids, don’t never not block the ball like that. NEVER!”

“That was craptacular!” The end-of-period horns sounded. “And that’s end-tacular!”

“You’re getting’ my goat!”

“And now it’s the half time.”

COMMERCIAL-BREAK

We return to see the Jewels band playing, while the cheerleaders do their dance and yell with each “HIGHER!” They then moved into a “counter-attack” formation. After this, it was the Pigs’ turn. This time a hip-hop mix played, and the cheerleaders of the Pigs danced in a very provocative manner. They began kicking around, while shouting “OINK” repeatedly. Some of the lyrics became rather raunchy, and the two winged cheerleaders played upon it, hovering in mid-air, hiking up their skirts, and shaking suggestively.

An intense coughing was heard. “You ok, Peia?” asked Lemon.

“This is just too flamboyant. And ironic. These people say on one hand they’re worried about showing stuff they shouldn’t show, so they wear those shorts. But then they go strutting around. Acting like they want to sleep with everyone. And they advertise what’s on underneath. With its own advertising. I don’t get it. Maybe that’s just me. Maybe there’s just a gap between me and the people of Roma.”

“MIND THE GAP!” shouted Don.

“And I rather hate this!” The three star female players of the Pigs had entered the fray, and they were throwing mud at the cheerleaders below, who were rolling in it while making squealing noises. “Have you seen the little piggies…”

“Yes I have, Harrison, and they seem to be winning. It’s an insult to the sport of Wingball.”

“We’ll pull ahead, we always do!”

OC-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Locker Room

Al was walking around the room. It had many benches, upon which players sat, and the lockers, for storing stuff. There were also doors to the toilets, and a large shower room, and a few stalls. Most of the players mastered the art of changing from their game clothes to their street clothes in such a way that nobody would see what they shouldn’t, and post-game showers were taken wearing only lavalava, by players of either gender. “They’re kicking our mulis. I don’t know why,” shouted Al. “They’re supposed to be a joke. The championship, the cups, all that, it belongs to us, not to the pigs. So I don’t want to see any of you toss your pearls to swine! Do you want to see fucking our hopes go to those idiots in ridiculous getups? Do you want to see that woman with the fucking ad for some hardware store on the front of a swimsuit hold up OUR trophy?” The assembled players were silent. “I didn’t think so. Any questions?”

“What ring should I try?” asked Susu.

“Good question. The best thing to do now is only think about two rings. The Big Score, which can give us 750 points, and the 50-point basket. And I don’t want you to throw it in. Do the double-dunk. As their 23 showed us, IT WORKS!”

“Big score?” asked Lia.

“Yes. Big score. Susu is the better dunker. Lala, are you better yet?”

“No,” said Lala, who had an ice pack to her head. “And my back aches.”

“Take your time, our doctor is almost back from his lunch.”

IC-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Back in the court, the players were in position, and awaiting the ball. This time it was an Ai’a’ive woman who was carrying the ball. It was Alula Valu Ai’a’ive, who was the head of the Ai’a’ive Association of Urea, and therefore the de-facto owner of the Pigs. “I wish to thank you, for embracing your Ai’a’ive heritage, and participating in Wingball,” she said. “And I’d like to extend my thanks to the non-Ai’a’ive among us, especially Petunia!” Loud pig squeal sounds erupted, until she signaled for calm. “So now that we are winning, let’s continue this. PLAY BALL!” She threw up the ball, and the groups went towards it.

Once again, several Jewels began pinball-passing it. Then the ball went for Lia, just as Simpson went towards her. Simpson flew up to try getting the ball, and then it appeared she was kicked by Lia. He spiraled down, and crashed on the floor, where the wrestling ring wasn’t. Whistles blew.

“Number 42, Lia, intentional assault with the legs,” said one of the refs. Yellow lights were flashing on the bottom of one of the pods. “YELLOW CARD, REST OF PERIOD, OFF THE FIELD!” The entire crowd from both sides let out a loud boo.

“GIVE ME A BREAK!” yelled Don Lemon. “He went into the line of kicking.”

“Let’s see the replay.” A replay played, from different angles. “Aha,” she said. “Lia’s feet didn’t actually touch him, and unless she was somehow projecting a force of mana…Simpson did this on purpose. HE DOVE!”

“Off, Number 32, Simpson, Medical. On, Number 9, John!”

“Medical my muli,” shouted Peia indignantly. Purple barked to agree. “I hope Tagaloa saw this, and makes Simpson pay for it!”

“But them rules is it only matters what the refs saw. But the refs will get a chewin’.”

“The more, the better. What a blind asshole!”

“You don’t normally swear!”

“I don’t normally have a reason to!” In the crowds, there were all insults, including “Blind Zebra, Blind Zebra,” and “That was fake, that was fake!”

A few fans held up homemade #42 banners and flags to show what they felt.

“THE REFEREE’S DECISION IS FINAL!” boomed the loudspeakers. “CALM DOWN!”

“The referee’s decision is STUPID!” shouted Peia. “It was a fake. A suicide. When a player fakes getting hurt so they can get the other side penalized. And in this case he purposely hurt himself. He isn’t an athlete, he’s a FRAUD!”

“You took the words right out of my mouth!”

FF

With Lia out of the game, Susu tried extra hard to compensate. She tried to do a double-dunk, but after the first one, she sent the ball in the wrong direction. So all she got from the 50 point basket was 100 points. But the Pigs had gotten 80 points in the meantime.

When she tried to take the ball for a repeat performance, she was blindsided by John, who punched her several times. He then took the ball, and used it to hit her in the head, before he grabbed her and tried to flung her into the audience. She was able to recover soon enough not to land anywhere, but a few people below her were giggling. Whistles sounded. This time lights were flashing green. “Number 9, John, Illegal player throwing,” said the ref. “GREEN CARD, FIVE MINUTES, OFF THE FIELD!”

John did so. Susu calmly took her position. Once again, the Jewels had almost all of the Big Score lights lit. This would be the moment of truth. Susu took the ball, and tossed it, hitting into the tube. Once again there was a light show, and the Jewels were propelled 750 points forward. They had a chance of winning the game.

FF

Emboldened by the reversal, the Jewels became more offensive. Vave was given a blue card (warning) for hitting Petunia. Several other players also earned blue cards.

Someone yelled from the side of the field “Pigs, BATTLE SQUADRON FORMATION!”

Petunia grabbed the ball and charged, while spinning. Other Pigs flew around her, and she’d let go of the ball, one of the “escorts” would catch it, then pass it, and then eventually to her. Petunia slam-dunked the ball into the 50 point ring, and caught it with her legs, flipped over, and dropped the ball again, catching it with her hands, and slammed yet again.

“Unbelievable 400 points!”

“It ain’t over yet!” Surely enough, Lemon was right, as Susu was able to take the ball the next time, and despite another Squadron formation, she evaded them, and did another triple-dunk, before falling. She was able to slow her fall.

“I’m not hurt,” she yelled.

FF

The ball was dropped, at a point where the Jewels were 300 ahead. The airhorns sounded.

“Keep this up, and we win,” said Peia.

COMMERCIAL BREAK----------------------------------------------------------------------------

A graphic of a Wingball field appears, and then a mailbox comes out of it. “MAIL CALL, is brought to you today by Jefferson Starways. Between planets, nothing is finer!”

Peia was shown sitting with a mailbag next to her. On the other side of the mailbag was a man with fair hair and fair skin. “Hello, I am Ian McDougal, and with me is the lovely Peia. This is a section we like to call Mail Call. We read random letters, and sometimes reply. If you’d like to know how to reach us, there’s several ways.”

“Yes there are,” said Peia. An address apeears at the bottom of the screen, one that she reads.

“Mail Call

c/o Three Hoopies

1687 Hope Road

Suite #45

Nu’u Sara, ACA, Ai’a’ivea,

Earth, Sol, Black Dimension

EC2 4N51”

“And what if,” began McDougal, “you’d rather speak on the phone?”

“If you live in Ai’a’ivea, you call 1-800-3H-MAILBAGS. The 3H is for Three Hoopies. At the prompt, select Mail Bag 25. If you live anywhere else, replace the 1 with whatever dialing-out numbers you need, plus 777.”

“And what about those who’d like to reach you online?”

“You email wingball. That’s all it is.”

“So how about we look at some letters?”

“Certainly. I’ll begin with one!” She reached into the mailbag. “I’ve got one. Let’s bring it up on screen.”

“Dear EPIWL At Night,” began Peia. “I’m angry at you for letting Don Lemon say such dreadful things about Muguri. As he may not realize, Watford WT is mostly Muguri, and now they are the top team in the PD/DP Division 1 Earth league. How’s them apples? Don Lemon should apologize. Signed, Kopra!”

“Well, if you watched it I’m sure you saw Don Lemon was wrong,” said Ian. “And besides, we don’t like to censor anyone unless we have to. Rest assured, he will be told to be more respectful of Muguri. And the Three Missiles of the Pummelers should be convincing enough to him that the Muguri can hold there own. And now, so should Watford WT being number one where the Jewels once played!”

A clip was shown, showing a Watford WT practice. The players, mostly Muguri and afatasi-muguri, were all practicing. In the stadium they were in, was an enormous flag with a red moose’s head on a black and yellow background. Above, there was the word “WATFORD.” Below there were the words “FC 1881” and “WT 2020.”

“Now I’ll take a letter,” said Ian. “Dear EPIWL At Night, I’ve just gotten into Wingball, but I wonder, what’s the meaning of the different colored cards? Thank you very much, Julie Sophie Ai’a’ive.”

A screen appeared, showing the different cards. “We’ll start with the blue card,” said Ian. “Blue cards are given as warnings more serious than just a warning. Blue cards are written down, and the ref can be tougher on anyone who appears to be collecting cards, as it where.”

“Green cards,” explained Peia, “allow one to legally live and work in the United States. I was just joking. The kind of green card that’s given out in wingball, is for those that are more serious. It usually accompanies two to fifteen minutes in the penalty box. The referee has some discretion here. Occasionally a “lime card” is given out, which has no penalty, but is considered more serious than a blue card.

“And when you get naughtier, we move up in the spectrum. A yellow card might be 5 minutes to the rest of the period. And occasionally there’s a lemon card, or ‘soft yellow’, which means a substitute is allowed.”

“And then for those who are even fouler, we’re moving into orange card territory. An orange card has the minimum of one period, might be for a half, or even the rest of the game. If a substitute is allowed, it’s nicknamed an apricot. And orange cards can carry over between games. Players take note.”

“And then we get to the most serious. The RED CARD. Get this and you don’t go to the penalty box. YOU LEAVE. No exceptions, although a “Peach” card means a substitute is allowed. Having too many yellows may lead to a one game suspension, but it’s not that common. Oranges and Reds can easily lead to suspensions. The number of games a red will make you miss depends on how serious the offence is.”

“And if you get too many of one card, you might be bumped up by the referee. You’re more likely to get a soft card that way. But nobody has gotten two oranges in a game before, even though it’s theoretically possible, if the first orange was for half the game.”

“But anyone who’s too interested in card collecting is usually shown the door. At least that’s how it is in football. And orange and red cards can have fines given by the EPIWL attached, if what you do is serious!”

“Here’s another one,” said Peia. “Dear Peia, you’re beautiful, you’re intelligent, you’re…” she blushed and went silent, looking at it. “My WHAT? My FUTURE HUSBAND? Ok, how did this get in here?” She faced the camera. “The name of the idiot is Delray Davidson. Any relation to Harley? I have an answer for you. Leai. If you’re really into me, you’ve learnt what that means. Some of the stuff in this letter is just unfit for Mail Call viewers. On that note, thank you for coming to the Mail Call. We’ll have more letters next time, so we’ll look at more next time.”

COMMERCIAL-BREAK----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The ball is dropped, and the players of both sides go for that ball. “We’re winning again,” said Peia.

“Like we should be,” said Don.

Susu went for the Big Score, and threw the ball in twice. She was tackled with a flying corkscrew attack by Petunia. The two began fighting, and Petunia did an eye-rake, followed by a punch to the neck, and then a grab to the wings. Susu retaliated by thrusting forward and scraping Petunia against one of the hoop-posts. Whistles sounded, and the green lights flashed.

“Number 4, Susu, brawl escalation,” boomed the referee. “GREEN CARD, 10 MINUTES, OFF THE FIELD!”

“These refs are biased,” said Peia, “are they the only ones that don’t see what’s happening? There was an EYE RAKE!”

“Well, at least Lia is back in the game,” said Don, “maybe she can fill Susu’s shoes!”

FF

She did. But the Pigs also scored. But when all was said and almost done, the score still favored the Jewels by 800 points. Lia was headed towards the goal wall, and noticed that the Pigs weren’t all going after her. She breathed in, and then exhaled. She threw the ball to Susu, who threw it back at her, and she did her spin-kick. The ball was intercepted before it touched her foot. Magnum P.I.G. spiked the ball into a warp-tube. The players were set up to take advantage of the layout. “It’s going to…Stevens…Erikson…” continued Peia, “Sweinstein 22 has it and…Petunia?” Petunia then grabbed the ball, and some of her team-mates and her did a Battle Squadron, and they met little resistance as Petunia faked for the 100 points, but at the last moment, hit the Big Score. The Pigs were now ahead 200 points. And the airhorns sounded. There was a gasp from the crowd, and then a chorus of booing.

“Never before,” said Peia.

“This sucks. That stupid formation, how do they do that?”

“You’re probably shocked,” shouted someone from the sidelines. “I’m Terrence Ai’a’ive, the coach for the pigs!” There was an Ai’a’ive man dressed as a pig farmer. “As soon as I found out we were chosen, we developed some new tricks IN SECRET! You never knew until today.” He laughed. “The future belongs to the pigs, THE PIGS!” The Pigs fans were squealing wildly.

“And so ends this tragedy,” sobbed Leia.

CROSS-FADE----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“THE UPDATE IS BROUGHT TO YOU BY ETERNAL MOTOR-OIL. BETTER ENGINE PERFORMANCE, AND IT COMES FROM THE LOVE-FRUIT TREE! ETERNAL!”

It shows Leia. “Hello again, welcome to the update. This is where we show what the other team from Earth is up to. The Patriotics are currently in Period 2, and Raptor (22) just scored 50 points, they are leading the Delta Pavonis Hoopies 250-90.” Scenes showing this 50 point goal appear. “It’s still too early to make a call, but the Flying Heroes, as some of their fans call them, are coming out on top.” Other scenes appear, showing the game. The field of Delta-Pavonis has tall trees growing on it. “And that is the Update. Brought to you by Eternal Motor-Oil.”

CROSS-FADE----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The credits appear, amid replays of the game, and at the end, there’s a new variant of the Three-Hoopies logo, where they all look upset, and they are doing the “three monkeys” covering of eyes, ears, and mouth.

OC-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Jewels left the arena, dejected. As they make their way to where their bus is parked, they hear a loud commotion. There are a couple of parked busses, with banners with “Church of Hama” on the side. A group of women dressed much like Catholic nuns, except with a symbol of a meteor in a circle in place of a crucifix, are seen demonstrating. “SHAME SHAME SHAME!” they yell. “SHAME SHAME SHAME!” The players, coach, and other staff walk to the bus, with Lala, still slightly dazed, being helped. Several nuns, one playing a drum, converge and shout “Shame, shame, shame!”

“Yes, it was a shame, the ref was biased,” shouted Lia.

The nuns stopped for a moment. “Cover up, cover up!”

“A scandal?”

“NO!” blared someone on a loudspeaker. “The Jewels are immoral. They do not wear shorts beneath their uniforms. That is SINFUL, SINFUL!”

“The Pigs are the only ones who do,” commented the coach through an open window.

“Wingball is sinful,” shouted someone else. It was a nun who happened to be Ai’a’ive. Her wings were pink. “We’re from the Hamaist Decency League. Wingball must be cleaned up. Shorts, pants, or leotards MUST be worn underneath your uniforms, it is immoral not to. The Ai’a’ive population must be purified. REPENT OR SUFFER!”

“REPENT OR SUFFER!” came a chorus.

“Aww, shut up,” yelled Don Lemon, who was also on the bus.

“REPENT OR SUFFER! COVER UP!” Another nun was waving a pair of bicycle shorts around as though it were a flag. “COVER UP!”

“You have no appreciation for the Ai’a’ive culture,” said Peia. “Be glad I’m too busy to demonstrate at any of your functions!”

The coach yelled at the bus driver. The engine came to life, and the bus roared away, as the flying nun took to the air with a placard with the same messages in Ai’a’ivean.

Moments later, when the Pigs came out, they were cheered by absolutely everyone. Even the demonstrators.

On the bus, Al was trying to cheer everyone up. “The Pigs will pay,” he said. “Next match, their asses.” The players cheered at that. “We’ll come up with our Battle Squadron Killer!” More cheers. “And the next match will be on our turf. So NO BIG SCORE!” Even more cheering.

---------

Author’s Notes: Well, things changed a bit from how I intended them. I was going to have the Pigs win, but…I decided to make them more showboaty, originally they weren’t going to be, they were going to be something more along the lines of the “Mighty Ducks”, hence the similarity in name. Also, I through in this sudden “new” tactic of there’s. And I decided to have biased refs. Think of this as the Bella-Roma Screwjob, to borrow from a wrestling term. And then I decided to even play more on the unconventional attire of the Pigs. And I can tell you this much…they will play again, and Petunia will be back. As for what race she is? I don’t know, haven’t come up with it, all we can say is that she’s of a rarer race.