>>18526409>I think I finally have this game sorted, Julia>Our beloved Taka there is the queen of the field; her objective is to kow the soldiers of the opposing army by hurling a ball straight at there heads>The enemy soldiers attempt to muster the courage to bat the ball back in her face with those little clubs they carry>Those men in the field are the queen's retainers, if an enemy soldier strikes the ball they're obliged to fall on him and thrash the poor blighter with those oversized leather gloves>As the queen's subjects it's our duty to consume all the greasy sausages and tepid beer in the stadium before the sun sets*doink* A batter for the Corn Town Shuckers manages to drive the ball into left field.
>The fool! In his haste to evade our brave knights of the freshly cut grass that witless knave has dropped his club!>Now they'll be no avoiding a well deserved beating!>*tummy grumble* All this spectating has given me quite the appetite>Do you want anything, Julia?>I figured I'd fetch us a box of those 'jacked crackers' everyone's always going on about>And perhaps a spoon with which to eat them>Wouldn't want our hands getting sticky 