Post by wilgutspleens on Sept 5, 2020 10:52:24 GMT
I found this lurking deep in me files and thought it may be of interest....
A Death in the Life of Barry Scott
One- Origins
Barry Scott was born the 14th son of a 14th son, which as all who know about goblins know, portends a career in door-to-door salesmanship. His father, a dealer in second hand toys for discerning adults and used condoms, “one careful owner, pre-rinsed, money back puncture proof guarantee”, had delusions about fame and stardom for one of his brood and Barry, with his rakish good looks, for a goblin that is (he resembled a sort of sallow, squinty Phil Daniels) seemed the perfect answer.
His mother was a promiscuous slattern of a woman who would drop her knickers for any passing stranger who had the time and a handful of spare change or a few dry bones. She had a predilection for sportsmen and could work her way through the first squad of the local blood-bowl team in the morning and finish off the reserves before it got dark.
She took all the necessary precautions, ie checked the money before entering into the contract and washed her hands every other day whether they needed it or not. She was a neglectful mother and Barry found his own entertainment where he could, inevitably playing in the dirt by the middens, the cultural centre of all goblin communities.
Barry's fascination with cleanliness seems to have started at this stage of his life. Apparently, he was bowled over into the latrine one day, whilst playing with a penny he had found, by a dysenteric troll in a hurry. The troll either didn't notice Barry in the crapper or maybe he was affected by the sense of annoyance that everyone felt in the little gits presence, either way, the troll, a particularly fat member of that race, had been drinking, and had imbibed several gallons of Old Pantyhose, followed by a hundredweight of rancid horse dahl with extra curry sauce. The inevitable landslide buried Barry deep in the latrine and it was Tuesday before anyone noticed a small goblin hand, sticking out of the morass, clutching a shiny penny. After he had been rescued Barry entered a sort of catatonic state, had to be spoon fed for a while and would only mutter “Look what it did to this penny!"
Barry never quite recovered from this childhood trauma. He had an extreme phobia of dirt and became obsessed with hygiene. He developed a 1000 yd stare and a constant facial tic. No-one could hold his gaze for long, the fanatical gleam that came in to his eye when cleaning or cleaning products were mentioned, the drool that dripped from the corners of his mouth, were enough to disconcert the hardiest of kinfolk. To his fathers delight he got a job as a door-to-door salesman for Kleen-ezee. His natural zeal for the products and his fanatical desire to demonstrate them terrified his customers who would buy all his wares just to get him out the door.
One day, clutching his brushes, mops and cleaning products Barry arrived at BANG! park, the home of Cillit BANG!(tm*), in order to make a sale. The match had just kicked off and the Clunge Kickers were tearing apart the BANG!(TM*)'s front line when the BANG!(TM*) goblin, Warren Peace, had a terminal block performed on him. The goo that was Warren covered quarter of the pitch and several players tripped on entrails and slipped in the spreading gore.
Cillit BANG!(tm*) coach Wilgut Spleens felt a tug at his side and looking down into a face that a mother could not love, felt the fanatical red hot laser gaze of Barry Scott burn into his brain. Wilgut overcame the wave of irritation that he could feel rising and pointing out to where Warren gently steamed he said “We need a new goblin right now, do you think you could help!"
Barry's eyes gleamed, a purposeful look came over his wizened little face and clutching his best "Kleen-rite Thunder II" mop and his bright blue "Charybdis" bucket in one hand, he strode proudly out on to the pitch with his New Improved Formula Heavy Duty "Spray 'n' Wipe" held before him like a nickel plated Colt .45.
"Well Jim, looks like the BANG!(TM*) are bringing on a goblin with a secret weapon, is that a pogo stick?"
"No Bob, it's a mop and bucket!"
That was the beginning for Barry. He was pursued over every game by all his opponents, something about his inane patter and insanely, optimistic attitude brought out the worst in all he met. Something about him, about his very essence, was deeply and profoundly annoying -universally. He had an invisible but tangible aura of vexatious irritation.
In a fine career over two seasons he scored 8 TD's for the BANG!(TM*) and never once showed any awareness of the game or indeed anyone around him. In one notorious match against the Naggaroth Knives, he feigned an injury following a foul in order to get into the opponents’ toilets and give them a good shine.
He was hated by his teammates and his coach and even the fans. His happy, hopeful, enthusiastic voice calling out "Bang! And the dirt is gone" or "Look what it does to this penny!" were enough to inspire hatred in the hearts of all who met him. Opponents hired assassins to take him out, not one came close and two were hospitalised when Barry accidentally sprayed them with strong bleach, possibly in an attempt to polish their knives. He left a trail of soap bubbles and polish wherever he went. Troll slayers, orc blitzers, chaos beast-men, all would slip and fall and sustain injuries while trying to take Barry out. The housewives however, loved and worshipped him. Pitch invasions would inevitably follow Barry around, with half the crowd wanting to kill him and the other half wanting to have his babies (and any spare cleaning products!)
In the age-old way of stories about sports personalities, Barry was spinning out of control. He began to lose any sense of reality. He showed little awareness of the world around him and had taken to cleaning individual blades of grass on the pitch. He may have some inkling of his fate that brisk June morning when he stepped out to meet the Skyre Test Rats. Pausing, he stopped by coach, Wilgut Spleens, and gave him his lucky shiny penny to hold “Just till I’ve finished the latrines boss"
Two-Death
Barry Scott collapsed and died in suspicious circumstances while playing against the Skye Test Rats it was revealed last night. The Clit BANG! (tm*) apothecary, Doc Blodge, wasn't available for questioning last night but denied that Barry was overheard to say "Its ok doc, just a sprain" shortly before being given some "treatment" from Doc Blodge. According to the Doctor, Barry was "Already in a sort of coma sort of thing and I just helped him a bit"
The Cilit BANG! (tm*) clubhouse was in uproar last night following the sudden death of team star Barry Scott. Coach Wilgut Spleens was asked to say a few words to the crowd that gathered outside.
"Barry will be greatly missed at our club".... sounds of cheering from within..."His is a great loss to us all"
At this point he was interrupted by an aide who whispered in his ear
”I dunno" said Spleens to the aide in hushed tones "The one that’s bigger than a magnum, get ten"
Sounds of gaiety and laughter drift from the club, a falsetto voice raised in mockery ”Look what it does to this penny!" followed by uproarious laughter.
"As I was saying, he will be greatly missed at this club, no one could scrub a urinal like Barry!"
Chants of "Bang and the git is gone" get louder and louder from the club house as a coach pulls up and out leap a dozen scantily clad young "ladies".
"You must excuse me folks, I have to attend to the wake"
Barry Scott R I P
Three-Ressurection
News just in!
Cilit BANG! Boss Wilgut Spleens has announced the return of Barry Scott!
"He wasn't dead" said the grizzled coach” He just went for a bit of a lie down"
The news was greeted enthusiastically by the fans and a crowd of hopeful housewives gathered at the ground today to watch the team training. An overweight (and over-tall?) Scott was glimpsed trying out through the hoardings this afternoon. He seemed far from the nimble goblin so well remembered and appeared slow and somewhat clumsy.
"He's a bit out of condition" admitted Spleens after the session.” He’s overweight and has put on some height. He needs a couple of games to restore him to match fitness!"
Reports that Barry Scott is really a ringer, a Black Orc Blocker called bHarry Sc(o)ot, who has changed his name by deed poll from Harry Scoot have been hotly denied. Drawn by the rumour of Barry's return, a large and restless crowd of frustrated fans, mostly menopausal women, began to form outside the ground. Security staff were called to clear an exit for the embattled star player to leave, however the crowd would not let him pass until he had spoken to them.
The chant of "BARRY, BARRY" wound down to silence as the hulking figure in the celebrated BANG! (tm*) number 8 strip held up a shiny penny above his head and in a deep bass voice said ”Look what it done to this ....er.......thing"
In the resulting silence you could have heard... well, a penny drop and the restless and doubtful crowd slowly and silently dispersed to allow the team to leave the ground.
"Don't forget your Barry Scott T-Shirts folks" called an enthusiastic, exuberant Spleens " Extra, extra large fits all!"
Four-Decline
3-1 to Cakebreads Angels.
Coach Wilgut Spleens, who has repeatedly refused to stand down as coach this season, was in an ebullient mood, despite demands from the crowd that he resign.
"Resign? Resign!!! After the best game we have had this season! I appeal to your common sense as wise and sensible fans, would you ask Barry Scott to resign? Because he hasn't scored this season? Because he's dead? Of course not. The only way, ladies and gentlemen, is the BANG! way and the BANG! way is my way. Just ask bHarry, youse all trust bHarry don't youse?" This met by a growing chorus "Yeh we trust bHarry" rising to the old chant "BARRY, BARRY, BARRY!"
Asked to comment on the shrine dedicated to Barry Scott he said"All cash offerings will make a difference I'm sure, but please, no more mops and cleaning products!"
bHarry Sco(o)tt himself was on hand to sign buckets for the increasingly confused fans and even more desperate housewives.
"Say something Barry" they demanded.” Tell us how it is"
bHarry Sco(o)tt clumsily lifted a Cilit BANG!(tm*) spray gun in one massive paw and blurted in a deep voice "DIS STUFF, CLEAN STUFF!" Some of the crowd seemed less than convinced by this display however, when bHarry, unphased, lifted a ragged copper disc, 10 cms across, into the air and grumbled "LOOK WOT IT DUN TO DIS PENNY!", the murmur of doubt became a roar of approval.
Several of the housewives fainted at this point. Some were heard to say it was Barry at his very best. Any doubt that Barry Scott was alive and well (and had put on quite a few pounds) was instantly dispelled. Then they all went off to the newly erected shrine to make some more votive offerings.
"Just make any cheques out to W Spleens Esq and Nuffle will take care of the rest" said a confident looking Mr Spleens around a large cigar. Turning to the waiting reporters he said” Mark my words gentlemen, the BANG!(TM*) are confident about the rest of the season and Barry will make a killing yet!"
Five -Barry Lives
Cilit BANG! coach Wilgut Spleens denied being behind the "Barry lives" campaign. The slogan, PSSST! Barry lives! has been appearing all over this website, even on threads completely unrelated to the BANG! or even FL north.
"I don't know anything about it" he said at a book signing yesterday "Barry has always lived. There was a little confusion about his death status at the end of last season but as you can see here he is alive and well and in better shape than ever"
The hulking form of Black Orc Blocker bHarry Sco(o)t was indeed very evident at the release of his new book ”A death in the life of Barry Scott" by bHarry Sco(o)t, allegedly ghost written, the controversial book covers Barry's life, death and two careers with Cilit BANG!(tm*).
"It’s a fine read” said Spleens ”Every word of it the gospel truth and all written by Barry himself, good value too and fans can rest easy knowing that the 10% surcharge is going directly to Barry's coach so that he can carry on in the fine form that he has already shown this season."
One reporter than asked Mr Spleens how it was that Barry had started his career as a goblin but now was a black orc blocker?
"I'm glad you asked me that” said Spleens ”He got promoted"
"But he's changed race!" the exasperated reporter cried.
"Barry works very hard in his training, he's an ambitious lad and will go far in this game. He has, its true, put on some weight, and a good bit of height too but he is still the same Barry that the fans have always known and loved. The changing room is cleaner than ever! I do hope the Press aren't going to make this a Race issue, I couldn't possibly comment" smiled Spleens around a large cigar
Behind Spleens, bHarry Sco(o)t signs another book, a great muddy paw splat on the cover, for another grateful housewife, almost fainting with lust in the presence of her hero.” Thank you Barry” she gushes(probably literally) " I will treasure it forever, it will be my favourite book"
A puzzled frown crosses bHarry's scarred visage "Buk???"
A heavily laden meat wagon carrying Belfast plates cruises to a halt.
"Ah, roll up ladies and gentlemen, new today, a special treat to commemorate the launch of Barry's book, get 'em while they're fresh, get 'em while they're hot, all the way from Ireland its the Cilit BANG!(tm*) Big Man Burger!"
As the crowd of eager menopausal housewives and gutter press hack's rush towards the open hatch of the burger stall, the portly coach turns away from the crush, shaking his head slowly from side to side, his lips curl back from the omnipresent cigar, a chuckle emerges, under his breath he says "Hee hee, pssst-t1696.html "
Barry Scott was born the 14th son of a 14th son, which as all who know about goblins know, portends a career in door-to-door salesmanship. His father, a dealer in second hand toys for discerning adults and used condoms, “one careful owner, pre-rinsed, money back puncture proof guarantee”, had delusions about fame and stardom for one of his brood and Barry, with his rakish good looks, for a goblin that is (he resembled a sort of sallow, squinty Phil Daniels) seemed the perfect answer.
His mother was a promiscuous slattern of a woman who would drop her knickers for any passing stranger who had the time and a handful of spare change or a few dry bones. She had a predilection for sportsmen and could work her way through the first squad of the local blood-bowl team in the morning and finish off the reserves before it got dark.
She took all the necessary precautions, ie checked the money before entering into the contract and washed her hands every other day whether they needed it or not. She was a neglectful mother and Barry found his own entertainment where he could, inevitably playing in the dirt by the middens, the cultural centre of all goblin communities.
Barry's fascination with cleanliness seems to have started at this stage of his life. Apparently, he was bowled over into the latrine one day, whilst playing with a penny he had found, by a dysenteric troll in a hurry. The troll either didn't notice Barry in the crapper or maybe he was affected by the sense of annoyance that everyone felt in the little gits presence, either way, the troll, a particularly fat member of that race, had been drinking, and had imbibed several gallons of Old Pantyhose, followed by a hundredweight of rancid horse dahl with extra curry sauce. The inevitable landslide buried Barry deep in the latrine and it was Tuesday before anyone noticed a small goblin hand, sticking out of the morass, clutching a shiny penny. After he had been rescued Barry entered a sort of catatonic state, had to be spoon fed for a while and would only mutter “Look what it did to this penny!"
Barry never quite recovered from this childhood trauma. He had an extreme phobia of dirt and became obsessed with hygiene. He developed a 1000 yd stare and a constant facial tic. No-one could hold his gaze for long, the fanatical gleam that came in to his eye when cleaning or cleaning products were mentioned, the drool that dripped from the corners of his mouth, were enough to disconcert the hardiest of kinfolk. To his fathers delight he got a job as a door-to-door salesman for Kleen-ezee. His natural zeal for the products and his fanatical desire to demonstrate them terrified his customers who would buy all his wares just to get him out the door.
One day, clutching his brushes, mops and cleaning products Barry arrived at BANG! park, the home of Cillit BANG!(tm*), in order to make a sale. The match had just kicked off and the Clunge Kickers were tearing apart the BANG!(TM*)'s front line when the BANG!(TM*) goblin, Warren Peace, had a terminal block performed on him. The goo that was Warren covered quarter of the pitch and several players tripped on entrails and slipped in the spreading gore.
Cillit BANG!(tm*) coach Wilgut Spleens felt a tug at his side and looking down into a face that a mother could not love, felt the fanatical red hot laser gaze of Barry Scott burn into his brain. Wilgut overcame the wave of irritation that he could feel rising and pointing out to where Warren gently steamed he said “We need a new goblin right now, do you think you could help!"
Barry's eyes gleamed, a purposeful look came over his wizened little face and clutching his best "Kleen-rite Thunder II" mop and his bright blue "Charybdis" bucket in one hand, he strode proudly out on to the pitch with his New Improved Formula Heavy Duty "Spray 'n' Wipe" held before him like a nickel plated Colt .45.
"Well Jim, looks like the BANG!(TM*) are bringing on a goblin with a secret weapon, is that a pogo stick?"
"No Bob, it's a mop and bucket!"
That was the beginning for Barry. He was pursued over every game by all his opponents, something about his inane patter and insanely, optimistic attitude brought out the worst in all he met. Something about him, about his very essence, was deeply and profoundly annoying -universally. He had an invisible but tangible aura of vexatious irritation.
In a fine career over two seasons he scored 8 TD's for the BANG!(TM*) and never once showed any awareness of the game or indeed anyone around him. In one notorious match against the Naggaroth Knives, he feigned an injury following a foul in order to get into the opponents’ toilets and give them a good shine.
He was hated by his teammates and his coach and even the fans. His happy, hopeful, enthusiastic voice calling out "Bang! And the dirt is gone" or "Look what it does to this penny!" were enough to inspire hatred in the hearts of all who met him. Opponents hired assassins to take him out, not one came close and two were hospitalised when Barry accidentally sprayed them with strong bleach, possibly in an attempt to polish their knives. He left a trail of soap bubbles and polish wherever he went. Troll slayers, orc blitzers, chaos beast-men, all would slip and fall and sustain injuries while trying to take Barry out. The housewives however, loved and worshipped him. Pitch invasions would inevitably follow Barry around, with half the crowd wanting to kill him and the other half wanting to have his babies (and any spare cleaning products!)
In the age-old way of stories about sports personalities, Barry was spinning out of control. He began to lose any sense of reality. He showed little awareness of the world around him and had taken to cleaning individual blades of grass on the pitch. He may have some inkling of his fate that brisk June morning when he stepped out to meet the Skyre Test Rats. Pausing, he stopped by coach, Wilgut Spleens, and gave him his lucky shiny penny to hold “Just till I’ve finished the latrines boss"
Two-Death
Barry Scott collapsed and died in suspicious circumstances while playing against the Skye Test Rats it was revealed last night. The Clit BANG! (tm*) apothecary, Doc Blodge, wasn't available for questioning last night but denied that Barry was overheard to say "Its ok doc, just a sprain" shortly before being given some "treatment" from Doc Blodge. According to the Doctor, Barry was "Already in a sort of coma sort of thing and I just helped him a bit"
The Cilit BANG! (tm*) clubhouse was in uproar last night following the sudden death of team star Barry Scott. Coach Wilgut Spleens was asked to say a few words to the crowd that gathered outside.
"Barry will be greatly missed at our club".... sounds of cheering from within..."His is a great loss to us all"
At this point he was interrupted by an aide who whispered in his ear
”I dunno" said Spleens to the aide in hushed tones "The one that’s bigger than a magnum, get ten"
Sounds of gaiety and laughter drift from the club, a falsetto voice raised in mockery ”Look what it does to this penny!" followed by uproarious laughter.
"As I was saying, he will be greatly missed at this club, no one could scrub a urinal like Barry!"
Chants of "Bang and the git is gone" get louder and louder from the club house as a coach pulls up and out leap a dozen scantily clad young "ladies".
"You must excuse me folks, I have to attend to the wake"
Barry Scott R I P
Three-Ressurection
News just in!
Cilit BANG! Boss Wilgut Spleens has announced the return of Barry Scott!
"He wasn't dead" said the grizzled coach” He just went for a bit of a lie down"
The news was greeted enthusiastically by the fans and a crowd of hopeful housewives gathered at the ground today to watch the team training. An overweight (and over-tall?) Scott was glimpsed trying out through the hoardings this afternoon. He seemed far from the nimble goblin so well remembered and appeared slow and somewhat clumsy.
"He's a bit out of condition" admitted Spleens after the session.” He’s overweight and has put on some height. He needs a couple of games to restore him to match fitness!"
Reports that Barry Scott is really a ringer, a Black Orc Blocker called bHarry Sc(o)ot, who has changed his name by deed poll from Harry Scoot have been hotly denied. Drawn by the rumour of Barry's return, a large and restless crowd of frustrated fans, mostly menopausal women, began to form outside the ground. Security staff were called to clear an exit for the embattled star player to leave, however the crowd would not let him pass until he had spoken to them.
The chant of "BARRY, BARRY" wound down to silence as the hulking figure in the celebrated BANG! (tm*) number 8 strip held up a shiny penny above his head and in a deep bass voice said ”Look what it done to this ....er.......thing"
In the resulting silence you could have heard... well, a penny drop and the restless and doubtful crowd slowly and silently dispersed to allow the team to leave the ground.
"Don't forget your Barry Scott T-Shirts folks" called an enthusiastic, exuberant Spleens " Extra, extra large fits all!"
Four-Decline
3-1 to Cakebreads Angels.
Coach Wilgut Spleens, who has repeatedly refused to stand down as coach this season, was in an ebullient mood, despite demands from the crowd that he resign.
"Resign? Resign!!! After the best game we have had this season! I appeal to your common sense as wise and sensible fans, would you ask Barry Scott to resign? Because he hasn't scored this season? Because he's dead? Of course not. The only way, ladies and gentlemen, is the BANG! way and the BANG! way is my way. Just ask bHarry, youse all trust bHarry don't youse?" This met by a growing chorus "Yeh we trust bHarry" rising to the old chant "BARRY, BARRY, BARRY!"
Asked to comment on the shrine dedicated to Barry Scott he said"All cash offerings will make a difference I'm sure, but please, no more mops and cleaning products!"
bHarry Sco(o)tt himself was on hand to sign buckets for the increasingly confused fans and even more desperate housewives.
"Say something Barry" they demanded.” Tell us how it is"
bHarry Sco(o)tt clumsily lifted a Cilit BANG!(tm*) spray gun in one massive paw and blurted in a deep voice "DIS STUFF, CLEAN STUFF!" Some of the crowd seemed less than convinced by this display however, when bHarry, unphased, lifted a ragged copper disc, 10 cms across, into the air and grumbled "LOOK WOT IT DUN TO DIS PENNY!", the murmur of doubt became a roar of approval.
Several of the housewives fainted at this point. Some were heard to say it was Barry at his very best. Any doubt that Barry Scott was alive and well (and had put on quite a few pounds) was instantly dispelled. Then they all went off to the newly erected shrine to make some more votive offerings.
"Just make any cheques out to W Spleens Esq and Nuffle will take care of the rest" said a confident looking Mr Spleens around a large cigar. Turning to the waiting reporters he said” Mark my words gentlemen, the BANG!(TM*) are confident about the rest of the season and Barry will make a killing yet!"
Five -Barry Lives
Cilit BANG! coach Wilgut Spleens denied being behind the "Barry lives" campaign. The slogan, PSSST! Barry lives! has been appearing all over this website, even on threads completely unrelated to the BANG! or even FL north.
"I don't know anything about it" he said at a book signing yesterday "Barry has always lived. There was a little confusion about his death status at the end of last season but as you can see here he is alive and well and in better shape than ever"
The hulking form of Black Orc Blocker bHarry Sco(o)t was indeed very evident at the release of his new book ”A death in the life of Barry Scott" by bHarry Sco(o)t, allegedly ghost written, the controversial book covers Barry's life, death and two careers with Cilit BANG!(tm*).
"It’s a fine read” said Spleens ”Every word of it the gospel truth and all written by Barry himself, good value too and fans can rest easy knowing that the 10% surcharge is going directly to Barry's coach so that he can carry on in the fine form that he has already shown this season."
One reporter than asked Mr Spleens how it was that Barry had started his career as a goblin but now was a black orc blocker?
"I'm glad you asked me that” said Spleens ”He got promoted"
"But he's changed race!" the exasperated reporter cried.
"Barry works very hard in his training, he's an ambitious lad and will go far in this game. He has, its true, put on some weight, and a good bit of height too but he is still the same Barry that the fans have always known and loved. The changing room is cleaner than ever! I do hope the Press aren't going to make this a Race issue, I couldn't possibly comment" smiled Spleens around a large cigar
Behind Spleens, bHarry Sco(o)t signs another book, a great muddy paw splat on the cover, for another grateful housewife, almost fainting with lust in the presence of her hero.” Thank you Barry” she gushes(probably literally) " I will treasure it forever, it will be my favourite book"
A puzzled frown crosses bHarry's scarred visage "Buk???"
A heavily laden meat wagon carrying Belfast plates cruises to a halt.
"Ah, roll up ladies and gentlemen, new today, a special treat to commemorate the launch of Barry's book, get 'em while they're fresh, get 'em while they're hot, all the way from Ireland its the Cilit BANG!(tm*) Big Man Burger!"
As the crowd of eager menopausal housewives and gutter press hack's rush towards the open hatch of the burger stall, the portly coach turns away from the crush, shaking his head slowly from side to side, his lips curl back from the omnipresent cigar, a chuckle emerges, under his breath he says "Hee hee, pssst-t1696.html "