JSG Classic: The Ultimate Fantasy & Football Short Story

Note: I’ve got a few longer pieces I’m working on right now but nothing imminent, so I figured today I’d publish the text of a short story I wrote back when my brother and I hosted our own version of the late, great Fantasy Fiction podcast. We’d give each other alliterative prompts and then write for the amusement of ourselves and each other. Ahh, memories. Anyway, please enjoy this story based on the prompts “Fantasy” and “Football.” — xojsg

“Gentlemen, welcome to your destiny.”

As the door closed on the boardroom at the NFL’s Park Avenue headquarters, the last of six men took his seat at the head of the table. That man was none other than Roger Goodell. Dressed in his familiar – albeit drab – suit and tie, Goodell looked every bit the part of NFL Commissioner. But today, the NFL Commissioner wore a different hat:

Dungeon Master.

Strewn about on the table in front of him were the familiar trappings of a Dungeons and Dragons campaign: Dice, character sheets, maps and figurines, plus a whole assortment of refreshments provided by league-approved sponsors. As the commissioner cracked the lid of a Diet Pepsi – the official soft drink of the NFL – he scanned the faces of the group assembled in front of him.

“Any questions?”

“Yeah: What are those guys doing here? Where are Ray and Marshawn?”

That handsome question came from the perfect lips of Tom Brady, legendary quarterback and unexpected RPG fan. As Frostblood the Wizard, Brady was sort of the leader type of the party, so his words carried extra weight.

“They aren’t here. I suspended Ray for this session and the next one after he threatened to kill everyone in the party last time.” Ray was former Baltimore Ravens great Ray Lewis, who usually served as the group’s rogue.

“That’s just how he is,” noted Rob Gronkowski, perched on the table and using his chair as a footrest. “He’s lawful evil.”

“He threatened to kill everyone in REAL LIFE, Rob. He said he was going home to grab his penis-stabbing knife.”

“Alright, what about Marshawn?”

“Mr. Lynch can return next time. He’s still serving his five-session suspension for grabbing his testicles during a raid.”

“It’s not his fault he kept rolling twenties,” Brady countered.

“Can we focus, please? I think you’re going to like these new guys.”

Just then, Tim Tebow piped up with his trademark boyish enthusiasm. “Yeah, let’s give ‘em a chance, guys.” Tebow was the party’s paladin, a virtuous warrior with uncommon tenacity. He once delayed a game for 45 minutes by insisting his robes have the number 15 on them.

“Why don’t you guys tell us about your characters?”

“Hey guys. I’m Colin, but you probably knew that part,” spoke Colin Kaepernick, a longtime fan of tabletop games. “But today, I’m Nick Kapper: ranger, rebel, skilled with my crossbow. I tend to fall toward the chaotic good side of things, which I think is new here. Looking forward to helping!”

“Fantastic, Colin. And as for you, Mr. – “ Suddenly, Goodell was cut off.

“WELCOME TO PAPA’S HOUSE! PASS ME ONE OF THEM SODIE POPS!” A highly-animated Papa John Schnatter brought the room’s energy level up immediately. “This isn’t a rum and Coke without the Coke, you know?”

“Could you please call it a rum and Pepsi, John?” Goodell requested. “And please, tell us about your character.”

“I’m Papa John! Papa John the Pizza Bard.”

“Pizza Bard?” Brady looked askance at Papa John.

“Yeah, Pizza Bard! See, I used to be a Pizza King, but I was wrongly removed from my throne by a bunch of ungrateful n – subjects. So now I journey across the land, telling my story to anyone who will listen.”

“Great! Now: Is everyone ready to begin?” Goodell beamed with uncharacteristic excitement as he readied the table. “Today, you will all be embarking on the most dangerous quest of your lives, but one that promises untold riches in return. Today, you must slay the ultimate evil.”

The commissioner went on to explain that the party would begin their voyage at the Bridgestone Tavern, the official tavern of the NFL Kingdom. There, they encountered a mysterious bard who spun a spellbinding tale of a legendary cave. This cave would grant anyone who reached its center their heart’s truest wish. But to get to the center meant slaying a creature of unspeakable evil, a creature so vile that no party, no matter how large or formidable, had ever survived the encounter.

“If the creature is truly as evil as he says, it’s our duty to slay it, no matter the reward!” proclaimed Leftchous, Tebow’s paladin player character.

“Gronk demands we stay at this tavern and order Jello shots instead,” said Gronk, whose character Gronk the Barbarian often mirrored Gronkowski’s own moral alignment. “Besides, I told that elven maiden I could fit her entire titty in my mouth and I think she’s gonna let me try it.”

“Spoken like a true Barbarian,” quipped Kaepernick. “Why don’t we – “

“Actually, Colin, as you move to speak, you notice a broken buckle on your boot. What do you do?”

Goodell interrupted.

“Uh … I guess I fix it?” Kaepernick sounded puzzled.

“Right. In order to fix it, you must kneel down for approximately 45 seconds, which will interrupt a toast being given by a half-orc at the bar. This may be interpreted as a disrespectful act, and even with your Charisma you’ll need to roll a 17 or better to avoid trouble. Do you still wish to proceed?”

“What? Disrespect? Those things aren’t even related. That doesn’t – oh, I get it. You’re doing, like, a bit. Jesus. Fine, whatever, I choose to kneel anyway.” Kaepernick grabbed the 20-sided die and rolled a 14.

“The barkeep notices your actions and declares that you, Nick Kapper, are barred from ever re-entering the tavern. Tough break,” Goodell feigned.

“Guys, let’s get back to the mission,” Brady pleaded. “I agree with Leftchous: We should check out the cave. Imagine being the first ones to say we found the treasure – our dreams could all come true.”

“As long as I can take a few of these wineskins with me, I’m in!” shouted Papa John, whose character had been at the bar the whole time, pounding mead and asking strangers if they knew who he was.

“It’s not like I can stay here,” Kaepernick scoffed.

“Very well,” spoke Goodell as the mysterious bard. “I shall mark the location of Castrol Cave on your map. I pray for your safety, fellows. Especially you, Gronk.”

With that, they set out for Castrol Cave, unclear on the dangers ahead but unrelenting in their determination to succeed. As they walked, the players exchanged theories on what exactly this beast could be. Some expected the tales had been exaggerated and all they’d find was a couple common wyverns. Others thought they might encounter some sort of hybrid creature, like a harpy-kraken or a gelatinous cube-priest. Gronk hoped it would be a cave of sexy sirens, and had to be reminded several times that sirens weren’t actually a good thing.

As dusk made way for the dark of night, the party arrived at the mouth of the cave. Frostblood the Wizard produced his trusty staff and cast a spell of illumination, but it managed only to light the path a few feet ahead. Nick Kapper fired an arrow inside and listened for it to make contact, but no sound ever returned. Whatever this cave held in store for these five, its treachery had not been overstated.

Suddenly, a sound did reverberate through the cave walls, but not the echo of arrow’s steel. This was an awful sound, a deep, guttural groan that instilled fear even in the hearts of these brave warriors. As the warriors entered the cave, the sound grew louder and louder, each escalation carrying with it some new wrinkle or quirk that only twisted their stomachs tighter, low groans becoming loud groans, loud groans becoming deafening groans, groans that rose to a cacophony that enveloped the party, a horrifying symphony that felt as if it could crush them under the weight of its terror alone, assaulting their senses until they could not see, could not feel, could not breathe, could not do anything, because all that they knew was the groaning.

Then the groaning stopped.

For a few tense moments, everything was dark and silent. After what felt like hours, a single torchlight began to flicker. As it ignited fully, the creature stood before them.

“Grrrbrbrbrbrrlrlrbrhhghrl!” Goodell pantomimed, in a less-than-convincing performance. “Recoil in fear, warriors, at the Grumbill! Most menacing of all creatures in the kingdom!”

“Did you just say ‘Grumbill?’” asked Brady.

“Yes. It’s the most fearsome and sinister creature in the NFL Kingdom Creature Tome,” Goodell replied.

“Uh huh. And it wouldn’t happen to be based on anyone real, would it?”

“Of course not. No PC, NPC or creature may use the name or likeness of any NFL personnel without the expressed written consent of the NFL and the NFLPA. Any resemblance is strictly coincidental. Now: Behold, the Grumbill! Witness his soulless eyes and joyless smile! Notice the way his tattered sleeveless robes flow off of his hideous appendages! Tremble in fear at the ungodly guttural noises that originate within its flab sacs.”

“Okay, it’s just STARTING to seem like you based this thing on Coach Belichick,” Brady interjected.

“Tom, I promise you it’s a completely original character.”

“You named it the GrumBILL, man, it’s not like you even tried to hide it.”

“That’s not cool, dude, that’s our coach,” offered Gronkowski in support.

“Gronk, as your character stares at the beast, you realize it also has, like, 17 vaginas.”

“Holy shit, let’s do this.”

“Grbrlfdkfdjhthhhhr! What brings you pathetic mortals to my cave? Come to seek the treasure, have you? Fools. Do you know how many before you have perished attempting the same? What makes you think you can succeed?”

“Because we are virtuous and pure of heart!” shouted Tebow.

“Because we fight for what we believe in!” added Kaepernick.

“Because I am the destroyer of ALL vaginas!” grunted Gronk.

“Because nothing will stop our quest for greatness,” proclaimed Brady.

“………zzzzppph papasinthehouse,” slurred Papa John.

“Ha! Cute. Let’s see how you handle this.” The beast reaches out with its hideous claws and grabs a handful of children, throwing them at your party. Everyone roll for evasion!

“Why does the beast have a bunch of children?” asked Kaepernick.

“Because that’s what he eats!”

“Alright, come on, man, you’re the worst DM ever,” Brady pleaded.

“As I dodge the corpses of the children, I slash at the beast with my holy sword!” Tebow cried.

“The beast anticipates your attack and evades with ease.”

“Then I throw my sword at its head to surprise it!”

“Quick thinking, Leftcheous. Toss this empty Diet Pepsi bottle into that recycling bin to succeed.” Tebow grabbed the bottle, cocked it and let it fly toward a recycling bin no more than five feet away from his chair. It hit Papa John in the face and fell harmlessly to the floor.

“Shoot!” Tebow cursed. “That felt like it was going in.”

“GrbrltrbrllllPatriots! The beast rises up before you and prepares to destroy you all! Leftcheous: It swipes at you with its arms and sends you flying! Gronk: It swallows you whole in one of its many vaginas, incapacitating you completely. Nick: Its skin is so thick and grotesque that your crossbow is useless. As you fire your last arrow, the Grumbill throws a living child it was saving for later at you and knocks you to the ground!”

“I drink a potion!” Kaepernick manages hastily.

“I’m afraid you cannot reach your Gatorades under the weight of the child.”

“That’s enough, monster,” Brady stated proudly. “I, Frostblood the Wizard, will not let you terrorize us any longer. I draw legendary my staff IceFootball and prepare to cast – wait, where’s my staff?!”

Goodell chimed in: “Oh, while you were entering the cave, Papa John borrowed it. He said he needed it to make margaritas.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” Brady shouted.

“Hahaharrgghr,” the beast whatever that sound is, as Goodell continues pushing forward. “Your friends are gone, you have no weapon – are you ready to admit defeat yet, wizard?” the GrumBill taunts.

“Never! As long as the ice pumps through my gorgeous body, I will never surrender to you!”

“Beleerhrhgghrt! Very well. You leave me no choice but to destroy the rest of you. And since I threw my last snacking child at that ranger, I think I’ll eat your bard friend!”

“No!”

“The beast grabs the pizza bard and swallows him whole in one quick motion.  It grumbles with its stupid voice as it begins to swallow, leaving you standing alone and unarmed. As it continues to swallow, though, its grumbling takes on a different pitch. Your ears struggle to discern what’s happening. Suddenly, you realize that it’s no longer grumbling – it sounds like it’s … giggling? At first you aren’t sure, but as the moments pass, you’re certain of it. The beast is giggling. It almost sounds like … wait, is the beast drunk?!”

“I mean, it did eat Papa John in one bite,” Brady agreed. “He’s like the human equivalent of one of those alcohol-filled candies.”

“Precisely. And since it threw its last snacking child at Colin, it ate him on an empty stomach. The beast is now full-on plastered, and it stumbles into the cave walls and falls over. The force of the blow knocks a giant rock free that lands on its face and then it soils itself, and also it gets alcohol poisoning. The beast has been brutally, incredibly, hilariously slain.”

“So that means … guys, we did it!” Brady exclaimed.

“Great work everyone!” Kaepernick added, exchanging high fives with Tim Tebow.

“Guys, quick tip: Those things were NOT real vaginas. They had teeth and bees and stuff in there. Plus after the first six or so, they were all kinda the same,” Gronkowski offered helpfully.

“Excellent work, warriors!” Goodell concluded. “You worked together, played to your strengths, and in the end you killed that awful, unlovable, ancient monster.”

“I’m telling Coach about this,” Brady threatened.

“Now, as a result, you may all claim your reward: the granting of your heart’s truest desire!”

The group again congratulated each other around the table, raising a toast with their Dannon yogurts.

Frostblood wished only to be recognized as the greatest wizard of all time, and was transformed into an all-powerful – and crazy handsome?! – goat wizard.

Nick Kapper wished to bring attention to the injustices he and his peers faced, and Leftchous wished to spread his message of faith across the land, but when the cave demurred because those sounded vague and hard, it instead gave each of them a commemorative T-shirt and a gift card for a bunch of lesser wishes that the heart only kinda desired.

Gronk wanted a party boat with a bunch of kegs that never ran out of beer, an ice luge that never melted, and a an endless supply of lotion for sexual reasons he discusses in extremely excessive detail. The cave granted his wish on the condition he never returned.

Papa John wished to recapture his throne as “the White Pizza King.” When the cave asked him to clarify if he was talking about Alfredo sauce-based pizzas, he let out an awkward “Uhhhhhh” and looked around guiltily. You know, one of THOSE moves.

Finally, Roger Goodell was not granted a wish as he was not a player character in this campaign, but he did feel satisfied that his wish to have a fun time with his friends was a rousing success, because as we all know, the real treasure was friendship all along. He then plugged himself back into the wall and entered Power Saver mode, and he did so with a smile on his face.