Breaking the curse

I went down to Mox tonight to see two of my friends play in the semi finals of our Blood Bowl league. Every time I go to Mox, I have a grilled cheese sandwich, and every time my dice stink.

Tonight, only one of us didn’t eat a grilled cheese, and his dice were terrible: at least 10 1s, an inability to catch the ball, pick up the ball, knock any opponents over. The game was done shortly after the second half when the crowd invaded the pitch and beat his players up, but he slogged on to the gloomy end.

Now I know who I’m playing in the finals. It’s going to be carnage: my rats are buying a wizard to fire lightning bolts at the opposition, and I don’t know whether to eat cheese or not…

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