At Least Toss Off Onto Them?

COMING SOON!

“Jesus,” said Ratts, “If Fev gets a set of tits, we’re gunna be looking for a new full forward. He’ll just sit on the couch playing with them all day.”

A silence descended over the match committee. It became apparent all of them were of the opinion that if they had a set of tits, they’d spend all day sitting on the couch playing with them too.

“Grrghh orgghhrgr grhghgffgs,” said Sticks, his low growl causing the windows to shake and setting off alarms in car park.

“Sticks, turn your translator on mate,” said Ratts.

Kernahan reached to the small black device at his throat that adjusted his voice to a pitch that humans could hear.

“Dunno about you blokes, but if Fev gets a big pair of perfectly formed funbags, don’t you reckon there’s a danger some of the other boys are gunna want to root him? At least toss off onto them?”

Ratts looked around the table. Heads nodded sadly. It was true. They would.

“Fear not!,” said the unmistakeable voice of Richard Pratt’s ghost, who sat at the end of the table, just like how Yoda and Obi Wan would appear in slightly smaller and blurrier form in Star Wars to dispense wisdom, or offer advice on the best strategems for maximising revenue by working in conjunction with competitors.

“I have a solution!”