Contact Sports: Building Character (And Possibly...), Danger Shop, 6th Period [8/11]

[cantgetnorelief.livejournal.com]

When students entered the Danger Shop today they'd find what looked like a soccer pitch, only without the goals and surrounded by very high walls. Scattered all around the field were various pieces of athletic equipment: rackets and balls from sports both inter- and extra-galactic, bats, sticks, miscellaneous skis . . . was that a bodyboard? Yes. Yes, it was.

Well. That was what they looked like, anyway; upon closer inspection all of the implements strewn across the grass were made of Nerf foam. Not nerf meat. Except the megaphones; those were perfectly normal.

Anders stood at the center of the pitch with a manual in hand, paging through it and looking somewhat flustered. "Guys, this is not what I had in mind for today, but I can't get the frakkin' Danger Shop to fix it," he said, glaring at the page of the open manual. "I was going to show you Rollerball, not Brockian Ultra-Cricket, but this room's got a mind of its own today."

Or maybe it just hated him. Not that he had any idea why it would.

"This game kind of makes no sense, you guys, but it's what we're stuck with today," he continued, somewhat mortified by what he was about to have to say. "The rules, best I can tell . . . well, I'm not asking you to grow three extra unnecessary legs just for the sake of this class, so we're skipping straight ahead to the main part of this. Which is, basically, grab any of that stuff out there, swing it around, and if you hit someone, run away and apologize through one of those megaphones."

He threw his hands up. "I don't know. I really don't. Just don't actually hurt each other, okay?"

[OOC: The winning OCD shall be the first OCD that wins. Please hold for it. Who knows how that's determined, but who cares? It's up.]