FEATURE: Butterfly Street Blues pt.3

Day 1 (part 3)
by Juno Lister

   You see the guards at Butterfly Street have devised a very clever way of communicating to each other. Back at Butterfly Street barracks sat on the roof is Guard Dougal, or Dougal the Bugle as he is affectionately known. If anyone reports to the Desk Sergeant anything that needs attending to urgently by the Guards, or Sergeant Kerr wants a takeaway brought in, they shout up to the roof where Dougal The Bugle sounds a unique fanfare  on his bugle to let the Guards in the area know they are required. The fanfare that we’d just heard was a sleazy jazzy effort quite reminiscent of a striptease tune, hence Isaac knew it was La Madam’s that needed Guard presence. I was later to find out that Dougal hasn’t come off that roof for 20 years. When called upon, he stands to attention, with his sun bleached uniform somewhat bedraggled but passable, then  marches to the edge of the roof lets out his call and marches back to his sentry box where he sits and awaits for his duty to be called upon again. Apart from the basket on a rope lowering his empty meal bowl and water bottle they hear nothing from him.

   So Dougal’s call sent us up the street back to La Madam’s. I saw other guards from neighbouring beats turning up on scene. When  Guard Isaac Hunt-Fawshaw and I arrived outside  La Madam’s  we saw that Tedah, the ork bouncer was talking to another guard. Two young men sporting bright blue City of Valroma College Bloodbowl Team tunics and no trousers were lying sparko on the floor face down in the gutter. A large crowd had gathered and Guard Hunt-Fawshaw set about dispersing the crowd.

     “Move along ...nothing to see here.. move along!”

   A bloke in the crowd started laughing

     “Are you kidding me Guard...nothing to see?”

     “ Nothing unusual just a drunk fellow being ejected nothing to see” Hunt-Fawshaw repeated, he waved people away as he played down the incident. The same bloke and his mates around him persisted and with a pointed finger towards one of the prone college boys shouted.

     “So why has he got a full sized bloodbowl ball sticking out of his arse then?”

   Hunt-Fawshaw and I looked round, and sure enough there it was, as clear as day, a full sized bloodbowl ball complete with spikes rammed up the man’s rectum. Hunt-Fawshaw looked at me and with squinted eyes and pursed lips said to me “Well that’s gotta hurt!” He turned back to the man and his mates and again tried to move them off. Another voice from the crowd started to remonstrate.

     “The other one’s got something shiny sticking out of his arse!”

     “ Oh it’s a prosthetic limb nothing to see come on move on” Hunt-Fawshaw getting quite bored  retorted.

      “What prosthetic limb has an engraving on it saying  BLOODBOWL 7s SECOND PLACE!” another voice added.

     I looked closer at the second man’s posterior and saw rammed up it a second place trophy?!

   Hunt-Fawshaw remarked “At least they didn’t come first think of the size of that mama”

   The crowds finally dispersed enough for us to join Guard Enfawk who was interrogating Tedah. “What’s occurred  Naif?” Hunt-Fawshaw  asked his colleague.  Enfawk proceeded to tell us that the college boys were getting a bit rowdy with the girls and Tedah stated he used force  that was reasonable in the circumstances to remove them from the premises. He had no idea how the ball and trophies...(yes trophies...a Most Valuable Player award was still missing) ended up in their arses.

     “Maybe dey fell on dem eh boss?” Tedah explained innocently.

   Hunt-Fawshaw had heard enough and together with Enfawk they grabbed a college boy each and dragged them by the feet to the Barracks. The bumping of the heads was enough to wake the youngsters up just in time to be stood up in front of Gaoler Sergeant Downe in the Barracks Cell area. The Cells were not a fun place, a big stone floored room with a desk where Sergeant Downe sat with his quill poised and then a long corridor of dungeons that seem to go on forever. The two men were standing in front of the desk, no trousers, quietly sobbing. Hunt-Fawshaw relayed the circumstances of events to Sergeant  Neil Downe. A veteran, he was impeccably turned out his white hair cropped and not one hair out of place. He wore spectacles with a cord tied to their gold rims and he smelt of fresh petals, a fragrance he got in a boxed set from the other Gaoler Sergeant, Indy Nial on his birthday a few weeks earlier. So Hunt-Fawshaw in sermon type fashion started.

     “Sergeant Downe I stand here before you with two naughty naives. They took it upon themselves to consume so much booze they found themselves rowdy in La Madam’s establishment. The door supervisor namely a well respected gentle...ah er..ork called Mr Tedah, reluctantly had to eject these urchins as he feared for his and the girl’s safety.”

   Downe looked up over his glasses and asked “Do you have anything to say ?”

   The first college boy whispered with a grimace “Can you take my mates ball out from my arse please?”

   The second more desperate in a pained voice said “Look, I have two cups up mine sort me out first”

   Downe  raised an eyebrow gave a little smile and said in a soft voice “Looks like things are looking up  at La madam’s, a licensing visit is in order” He then called out loudly  “Bob?” From down the cell corridor I could hear a bounding of giant steps a slobbering of the mouth and heavy breathing interspersed with excited gruff giggling. A large shadow loomed into the room. It was Bob the Ogre  Gaoler. “Take them to cell’s 12 and 13 bring my gloves this should be an interesting interrogation. I’ll be with you in a minute “

“Ye ye ye  boss he he he he  interesting boss he he he he” with this, Bob the great lumbering oaf of an Ogre picked each lad up, one in each arm at the scruff of the neck . Downe explained to me it was important to not just punish bad boys like these but to educate and put them back on track. Hunt-Fawshaw and I left the cell area as Downe walked casually  down to cells 12 and 13 putting on his gloves …I walked through the court yard, I could hear screams and one of the lads shouting

     “No don’t put it back again!”. Hunt-Fawshaw  with a serious face said to me “ That is the sound of reparation..he will spend a long night in that cell, a tough lesson in life but he will learn from the experience and move on to become a better citizen, by the gods I love my job”

   With this he proudly put his helmet back on his head and off we went back into Butterfly street to fight crime.

                    

Guardsman Isaac Hunt-Fawshaw on patrol

NEWS: Strange Explosion Rocks East End

by Ras Bulba

   An explosion at the Farrugia ‘skunkworks’ rocked the East End of Ostburg last night. Local residents claim the blast shook buildings as far as five streets away and an eerie green glow illuminated the sky that seemed to emanate from the workshops. Strangely though apart from a lot of broken glass, fallen roof tiles and collapsed chimneys there seemed to be very little damage caused and certainly no fire damage. Ostburg City Guard were quickly on the scene and prevented anyone (including the fire brigade strangely enough) from entering either the Farrugia works or the neighbouring East End Skunks’ stadium! An eye witness had this to say:

    “Aye, it were right queer it were, me an’ the missus were just settlin’ down for the night an’ I could feel like a peculiar frobbin in me ‘ead an’ then the ‘hole house started shakin’ like a right bastard! Bugger this I thought an’ we ran out into the back alley, I nearly got clobbered wiv a fallin’ roof tile n’all I did! It’s them bloody Farrugia’s at it again I said to the wife an’ sure enough lookin’ down the alley to the back of the works I could see this queer glow! By this time all the houses we shakin’ and bits was fallin’ off ‘em an’ all the neighbours were out in the alley. We’s used to explosions an’ such from that lot at the works so most of me neighbours just trotted off down to the Spanked Monkey for an ale an’ wait for it all to stop but curiosity got the better of me this time an’ me an’ the missus went up the alley a bit to see what we could see like. By the time we got to the end of the alley an’ were at the back wall to the works everyfin was shakin’ and rattlin’ an’ I could ‘ardly ‘ear me self fink then BANG! Well I says bang but there was no sound not even from all the shakin’, there was a bright flash and it was like all the sound just went, we was thrown to the ground, the glow was gone, an’ we could ‘ear again, the shakin had stopped, apart from a few fallin’ chimenees. Just when we didn’t fink it could get weirder we ‘eard a high pitch scream an’ a figure came flying froo the air from out of the works an’ landed in the alley not ten feet away! I looked at the missus an’ she looked at me and we ran over the poor sod and saw it was a gobo in a queer lookin’ suit an’ broken fish bowl on ‘is ‘ead! Poor little bugger was groanin’ an’ we was gonna ‘elp ‘im but just then we saw a couple the Farrugia ‘blokes in black’ runnin’ up the alley towards us. Well, round this way we all knows not to ‘ave any fin’ to do wiv them buggers so me an’ the missus scarpered quick like the other way. We could ‘ear the poor bugger shouting ‘no, no, I don’t wanna go back in there!’...”

   A strange account indeed. Farrugia Engineering have of course got several workshops around the city but the ‘skunkworks’ (so called for it close proximity to the Red Rocket Stadium – home of the East End Skunks) has an infamous reputation for strange goings on and is notoriously hard to gain entry to. Rumours abound and the City Guard are always on hand whenever there is an incident there yet no one is ever seen to be arrested except it seems for nosey locals and overly inquisitive reporters. This reporter himself was sure he was being followed after attending the scene, though nothing came of it.

   So what are the Farrugia’s up to behind those impenetrable walls? Your guess is as good as mine...

FEATURE: Butterfly Street Blues pt.2

Life on the streets with The Beat guards of Valroma City’s most vibrant district
as witnessed by Juno Lister

Day One (part 2)

   So walking through Butterfly Street with a Guardian of peace and justice was a completely alien experience for an intrepid Bloodbowl reporter. Usually you can move around the area in complete anonymity but I realised that our every move was being scrutinised. People watched as we moved through the crowds.

     “Life under the microscope indeed “Isaac said looking out of the side of his eyes hand firmly implanted on the round ball on the hilt of his sword swinging from the scabbard. As he walked  he explained ...

     “Yup it’s a tough job, I’ve been Patrolling Butterfly street since, well, seems like forever....I came out of basic training and have been here ever since. I like helping the citizens of Valroma, it gives me a warm feeling, it’s what I‘ve been designed to do and wouldn’t want to do anything else.”

   We reached the doors of La Madam’s Establishment  and I immediately recognised Tedah, The Killa Flamingo bloodbowl star standing on the door. Now Orks don’t often frequent Butterfly Street, except in gangs, but the long association of La Madam’s with the Flamingos (or at least her money with The Flamingos) has secured the assistance of the players on her door security staff. It’s a sight to behold these truly fearsome savage creatures almost tamed into submission. The Orks are kitted out in three piece suits and guard the doors of La Madam’s when there is trouble expected. That evening by all accounts a college bloodbowl team on tour were staying, hence the added security. To my astonishment Tedah very un Ork like nodded politely at us as we approached this was a strange sight, only in Butterfly Street I thought. Isaac was greeted with a grimacing grin and Tedah’s gruff Ork voice boomed

     “You OK Guard...ya job still shite yeah? Am still workin on gettin you on our team but La Madam she only want Orks” Isaac gave me a sideways glance.

     “Anything to report bouncer?”

     “Nah all under control Guv” Tedah replied with a huge thumbs up.

   Now I appreciated that normal Joe punter would be incomplete terror being watched by a huge Ork in a monkey suit but this was a bloodbowl team coming to visit (albeit a low level college one) and they were used to taking on Orks. I passed this suggestion on to my guide. This was met with a long statement about bloodbowl players and pussies and how the City Guard team weren’t fit to wear the uniform and that Tedah would scare the college boys’ silly. I bowed down to Isaac’s experience and carried on patrolling.

   Guard Hunt-Fawshaw told me he had to go and offer crime prevention advice to Nanna Di Pandi’s Pasta Bar. Nanna Di Pandi comes from a long line of Di Pandis; Grand Nonno Di Pandi had a little cart which he used to serve pasta from at the docks. He arrived in Valroma from the City of Aquaria as a young teenager. Often mistaken for San Pedrians, the Aquarians come from a much larger city that floats on the Great Pond. It is a beautiful city where the only mode of transport is by gondola. Renowned for their food and particularly Pasta, communities of Aquarians can be found on the mainland and Grand Nonno built up the Di Pandi empire opening his Pasta Bar in Butterfly Street. Times are not so good now, Grand Nonno had two girls - Nanna, whose first name is Espanda and her sister Castanda who has long since passed. Nanna’s kitchen had been broken into twice that week and she was at her wits end as her pasta supplies were running low as the thieves were stealing it.

  As we reached the door she came out.

      “Guardolo coma here you a sitta I bringa you a plate a spaghetti,  si? An a your friend?”

   We sat and ate a large plate of Nanna Di Pandi’s finest, washed down with her best vino, an Aquarian alcoholic drink. I questioned Guards drinking on duty but was met with...

      “My friend, you cannot offend the public! Nanna would be deeply hurt!”

   Nanna stood smiling awaiting the Guard’s kind words of assurance and a possible update into the investigation.  Hunt-Fawshaw  finally removed his helmet  revealing a short crop of brown hair, undid his purple section scarf wiping a tiny piece of sauce that had escaped from his mouth,  smacking his lips, released his weapon belt slightly releasing a tiny bump wear the pasta had come to rest, he looked straight into the frail old lady’s eyes. You could see Nanna had worked all her life. No time for boys, she had a mission to deliver pasta to Valromans whoever they were.  She was a sweet kind old thing with little spectacles perched on her button nose.  After the service she had given to Valroma, how could its children steal from her? I was quite glad that Hunt-Fawshaw had decided to come and offer her reassurance. After an awkward silence Guard Hunt-Fawshaw opened his mouth and we all waited for his words of wisdom ...he belched! 

     “Guardolo what ama I gonna do abouta  dis thief?..I canna live here, too many thieves ,nasty peoples issa gone down de hill I needa your advice!”

   Hunt Faw-shaw stood up, beckoned me to do the same and then gave his advice.

     “So you don’t like the area then Nanna?” 

     “No!  Isa really bad” she tearfully replied

     “Only one thing for it then, “ he informed her  “pack up your things and shove off back to Aquaria if you don’t like it, job done problem solved, good evening to you.“

   He picked up his helmet spun 360 degrees and off he went out of the shop leaving Nanna with her mouth wide open  and a bewildered  journalist hot on his tails. Back out in the street we resumed our progress  at a patrol-speed saunter  as Hunt-Fawshaw explained.

     “You can’t underestimate what impact we have when we engage with the community like that , just a simple house call on an elderly victim like Nanna and offering advice  can make the world of difference you know”

   As we reached the end of the street we heard a bugle blast from the Guard Barracks. Hunt-Fawshaw like a coiled spring  turned around and hurried back up the road,  he called back to me...

     “That call is for La Madam’s something’s happening stay close !“

FEATURE: Butterfly Street Blues pt.1

Life on the streets with The Beat guards of Valroma City’s most vibrant district
as witnessed by Juno Lister

Day One (part 1)

   I stood at the top of Butterfly Street in down town Valroma, behind me The city of Valroma Bloodbowl stadium was getting a lick of paint a cheerful little San Pedrian called Leli was splodging big brushes full of light blue paint, he told me it was the stadium committee’s ruling. The Stadium is shared by the red clad  Valroma Utd and the  Valroma City Guard team that have just changed their kit from royal blue to lighter blue akin to their uniform. The problem is Valroma Utd were unhappy that the stadium wasn’t painted red and internal squabbles were ongoing. For Leli it mattered not, his new job as janitor paid well, he set of to paint the walls light blue no problem, Bloodbowl was furthest from his mind, as it is was surprisingly for me, your intrepid Bloodbowl journalist.

    I proceeded down the hustling bustling street as I have done for many years, dodging the drunks coming out of the The Rampant Squirrel tavern,  smelling the aroma of fried fungus from Mother Dearest’s Mushroom Sandwich Shoppe, watching the tired dockers and sailors get a new lease of energy as they were drawn into La Madam’s on their trudge up from the docks at the end of the street. The flashers in Indigo Park, the pick-pockets, the urchins, the street hawkers, the buskers and bards all out giving Butterfly Street that reputation of the place you need to be if you are anyone in Valroma City. Then on the street corner just by Indigo Park I spotted one... like a pillar, a bastion of everything that is good and righteous, smart looking, armed and looking mean... the local Guard. I walked past him and his eyes drilled into me, this man must have nerves of steel I thought as he plods these streets ensuring you and I walk in safety...well at least sometimes.

   Halfway down the road I arrived at my destination, a heavy metal gate leading to a small courtyard not a stone’s throw from La Madam’s... and I have heard it rumoured more than  a few stones are thrown from La Madam’s into this courtyard. I followed the arrow that pointed me to a door with a rusty old sign over it saying ‘Desk Sergeant’; yes I was in the Butterfly Street Guard Barracks and the customer entrance, this is as far as the public get. I was third in the queue. The Desk Sergeant was Sergeant Kerr. He was talking very nicely from behind his huge desk to a very scantily clad resident of La Madam’s. The Sergeant’s thin gangly body jiggled around like a kid in ‘Come to Uncle’s’ sweet shop a few blocks down. His bony face hidden by a big smile that brimmed from ear to ear as he swooned with this....’lady’ I have heard Sergeant Kerr or Wayne as he is known to his friends is possibly the most sarcastic Guard in Valroma and was posted to desk duties to keep him under the scrutiny of Captain Anabett the man I was there to see, my contact who had agreed to let me shadow a guard to report on the work they do for you good people of Valroma.

   Finally realising a queue was forming Sgt Kerr waved off his little friend and shouted to her at the door
     “I’ll visit you tonight to take some details”
   His face then dropped and returned to a look of grey boredness matching the decor of the room.....a wooden desk a plain wall and a barred window letting in light about 10 feet up the wall. The man in front of me cheerfully announced he was a tourist and asked Kerr the directions to The West gate. The man’s wife was smiling but bless her did not capture Kerr’s attention like the previous customer. Kerr’s weary eyes looked up off his desk shook his head stood up revealing a tall slim body walked to the door poked his head out looked all around the door shook his head
     “nope” he said “thought so” he muttered as  his boney finger beckoned the tourists to the door.
   The bewildered tourists in their bright flowery tunics walked to the door and stood outside with Kerr who had hands planted on hips with tightly clenched fists. He pointed to the sign over the door
     ”Yep I thought it said desk Sergeant when I came on duty...and not bloody tourist guide ...get out of my guard room!” he waved his finger towards the front gate.
   Off tourist boy and his wife trotted with their tales firmly planted between legs. He muttered “wasters” as he went passed me and shouted “next!” as he planted his posterior.  I told him of my business and who I was here to see and he snapped
     “Name?”  I replied Lister... “Next you’re going to tell me you are an Endzone reporter”
   ...I kind of explained that well I erm was and he realised that I might be reporting to his boss and attitude u-turn was employed.
   “Sorry sir  ...thought you’d be taller” and he showed me out of the office and down a long corridor ....”Captain Anabett, Juno! Lister for you.”
   I walked in and a fine upstanding veteran of the mean streets of Valroma greeted me
     “Captain Anabett....” I started to go into pleasantries but he stopped me dead in my tracks....
     “Please call me Ade” After a few drops of Sherry. Anabett said “Are you sure you want to shadow the Butterfly street section? my south street team are a very good bunch of chaps” I assured him it was Butterfly street. Anabett’s face dropped...he shouted out loud to outside the office “OK.....Guard Hunt-Fawshaw!”

   I heard the clumping of marching boots coming down the stone corridor, in burst Guard Hunt-Fawshaw...Tall athletic ultra smart...helmet firmly on head large nose protruding out from under it  he thrust out a hand to me  and in a very well to do voice shouted
     “Please Call me Isaac!” As we walked out into Butterfly Street I could hear Captain Anabett’s words to Isaac echoing in my ears.  
     “Hunt-Fawshaw look after this one you know what happened with the work experience lad the other day”       
   So there I was walking in Butterfly Street with a real guard..... cutting the crowds like a knife through butter. My pen was itching to write; little did I know this was only the start.