Sobriquet
Definition
This synonym of nickname has the same meaning in modern French as it does in English.
In Middle French, however, its earlier incarnation soubriquet referred to both a nickname and
a tap under the chin.
In Middle French, however, its earlier incarnation soubriquet referred to both a nickname and
a tap under the chin.
The final match of the 31st Quinquennial Power Mallet Tournament was about to begin. I couldn’t
wait to see who took to the field. Augstine, the most popular striker with his gorgeous looks
and ferocious, take no prisoners swing (which had already caused several broken arms this
season alone - but as long as no injury occurred to the player’s head, then it wasn’t considered
a foul - just a bit of rough and tumble.) or the centre peg of the opposition Dimmatelli with his
calm demeanor and careful planning that had taken his team from the back of beyond, through
countless victories, to the centre stage here.
wait to see who took to the field. Augstine, the most popular striker with his gorgeous looks
and ferocious, take no prisoners swing (which had already caused several broken arms this
season alone - but as long as no injury occurred to the player’s head, then it wasn’t considered
a foul - just a bit of rough and tumble.) or the centre peg of the opposition Dimmatelli with his
calm demeanor and careful planning that had taken his team from the back of beyond, through
countless victories, to the centre stage here.
“Who are you rooting for?” a woman in front of me whispered to her companion.
“Well, of course Augstine’s and the sledgehammers are my home team - but Augustine is so
handsome that you almost can’t help hoping for him to lose….”
handsome that you almost can’t help hoping for him to lose….”
“Oh, I know exactly what you mean!” her companion giggled.
If you’re wondering why these women wanted their own team to lose, perhaps I'd better explain
more about the game. Power Mallet is a hybrid, high powered cross between polo and crochet.
However, instead of horses, the players, six on each side, ride heavy duty, Mad Max style
motorbikes and instead of croquet balls, they use severed heads.
more about the game. Power Mallet is a hybrid, high powered cross between polo and crochet.
However, instead of horses, the players, six on each side, ride heavy duty, Mad Max style
motorbikes and instead of croquet balls, they use severed heads.
Living severed heads.
Hear me out.
So, like, around a hundred and fifty years ago, Earth’s population was pretty big and their
governments were pretty powerful. All of them. And the thing about a powerful government is
that it feels the need to prove they’re a powerful government to other, supposedly inferior
governments, just so they knew that the others knew that they were, in fact, a pretty big deal.
governments were pretty powerful. All of them. And the thing about a powerful government is
that it feels the need to prove they’re a powerful government to other, supposedly inferior
governments, just so they knew that the others knew that they were, in fact, a pretty big deal.
After said governments had managed to decrease Earth’s population by about 70%, destroy a
lot of the habitable areas and wipe out several cute and fluffy species of animals, the people
were left were like “well, i no longer have a home, available health care, future prospects and
the city’s on fire, but I do have this sharp pointy stick that i found on the ground and there’s a
whole plethora of politicians over there that need stabbing.”
lot of the habitable areas and wipe out several cute and fluffy species of animals, the people
were left were like “well, i no longer have a home, available health care, future prospects and
the city’s on fire, but I do have this sharp pointy stick that i found on the ground and there’s a
whole plethora of politicians over there that need stabbing.”
So in a massive joint effort to halt the destruction of the planet in their power hungry madness,
and appease the ever disgruntled masses (and thus prevent an attack of angry sharp sticks)
the governments laid down their weapons and introduced a savage, high octane, totally
addictive gruesome game called Power Mallet which would take the place of all current
disputes/wars.
and appease the ever disgruntled masses (and thus prevent an attack of angry sharp sticks)
the governments laid down their weapons and introduced a savage, high octane, totally
addictive gruesome game called Power Mallet which would take the place of all current
disputes/wars.
As an initial punishment for the politicians who had apparently caused the most issues during
the wars (or, more likely, the unlucky interns who drew the short straws or brought back the
wrong kind of coffee that one time) their heads were severed, artificially preserved and
reanimated and were used as replacement balls during that first match. I am told the
embalming and preservation process have improved significantly in the last hundred years or
so - as these days none of the heads explode after being smashed too hard into an obstacle.
the wars (or, more likely, the unlucky interns who drew the short straws or brought back the
wrong kind of coffee that one time) their heads were severed, artificially preserved and
reanimated and were used as replacement balls during that first match. I am told the
embalming and preservation process have improved significantly in the last hundred years or
so - as these days none of the heads explode after being smashed too hard into an obstacle.
I’m sure the government’s initial plan was just to have severed heads for the opening tournament
- after that normal balls would have been used. However, they really underestimated the
bloodthirsty savagery of an angry mob that had now lived through successive years of warfare.
The introduction of the severed heads was met with astounding approval (particularly the way
they screamed during play). It was so popular that when they tried to switch to normal balls for
the second round, they got booed out so badly that they then had to switch back to the least
squidgy heads for the rest of the matches. Safe to say, by the end of the tournament most of
the heads were nothing more than a tomato paste like substance.
- after that normal balls would have been used. However, they really underestimated the
bloodthirsty savagery of an angry mob that had now lived through successive years of warfare.
The introduction of the severed heads was met with astounding approval (particularly the way
they screamed during play). It was so popular that when they tried to switch to normal balls for
the second round, they got booed out so badly that they then had to switch back to the least
squidgy heads for the rest of the matches. Safe to say, by the end of the tournament most of
the heads were nothing more than a tomato paste like substance.
Being a Power Mallet player was a high risk, high reward gamble. An extreme gamble. Power
Mallet’s popularity had oustripped every other sport (to be fair, on one had been playing much
sport since the outbreak of the world war and by the end of it, most athletes had died on the
front lines anyway.) The tournaments were every five years andt every second of those years
were spent in gruelling training for the players. No scandals for them - they barely had the
energy to crawl to bed at the end of the day.
Mallet’s popularity had oustripped every other sport (to be fair, on one had been playing much
sport since the outbreak of the world war and by the end of it, most athletes had died on the
front lines anyway.) The tournaments were every five years andt every second of those years
were spent in gruelling training for the players. No scandals for them - they barely had the
energy to crawl to bed at the end of the day.
The hard core devotion to training was understandable. If you lost the game, chances were you
lost your head. In the initial matches, only the worst player lost their head. In the semis, it was
about half the team. If you lost the match in the finals, the entire team lost their heads and were
used as the balls in the next match in five years time. Five years being stuck as nothing but a
head and then being brutally pummelled and beaten by the shiny new players that had replaced
you.
lost your head. In the initial matches, only the worst player lost their head. In the semis, it was
about half the team. If you lost the match in the finals, the entire team lost their heads and were
used as the balls in the next match in five years time. Five years being stuck as nothing but a
head and then being brutally pummelled and beaten by the shiny new players that had replaced
you.
So why play at all? What kind of insane person would voluntarily sign up for such a slaughter?
Because you might win. If you won, you received glory, fame and riches - not to mention no tax
for the rest of your life on all your various talk show, book deal, fan club incomings. To become a
winning Power Mallet player was the closest thing to being born a demigod in these times.
for the rest of your life on all your various talk show, book deal, fan club incomings. To become a
winning Power Mallet player was the closest thing to being born a demigod in these times.
There was also a lot of talk that if you did lose - but put up an amazing battle doing so, your
family would be taken care of for life. However, that would depend on what the judges would
call entertaining and i don’t think i could gamble mine or my family’s lives on that. (One of these
days they’d set up some sort of voting pole for the audience to choose their fate i suspected. I
hoped not - that was sickening even for me, however I wouldn't put it past them.)
family would be taken care of for life. However, that would depend on what the judges would
call entertaining and i don’t think i could gamble mine or my family’s lives on that. (One of these
days they’d set up some sort of voting pole for the audience to choose their fate i suspected. I
hoped not - that was sickening even for me, however I wouldn't put it past them.)
But perhaps it was enough for some.
To go back to the original question. Why did the women in front want their idol to lose? An easy
one to answer. I’d already said that the preservation methods had come on amazingly since the
first generation. These days, except for the fact that there was clearly no body attached the
head, you could be forgiven for believing the heads to still be alive. The embalming was pristine,
with no necrosis or rotting flesh and the skin looked as fresh as a daisy. Plus the animation was
so spot on that you could have been forgiven for thinking the rumours that the government had
resorted to black magic to entrap the player souls inside their heads and keep them in a state
of semi-immortal life was true.
one to answer. I’d already said that the preservation methods had come on amazingly since the
first generation. These days, except for the fact that there was clearly no body attached the
head, you could be forgiven for believing the heads to still be alive. The embalming was pristine,
with no necrosis or rotting flesh and the skin looked as fresh as a daisy. Plus the animation was
so spot on that you could have been forgiven for thinking the rumours that the government had
resorted to black magic to entrap the player souls inside their heads and keep them in a state
of semi-immortal life was true.
For you see, in the five years between tournaments, the heads were kept on display in various
history museums and for a small sum you could go in and talk with them as much as you liked,
ask them any questions you liked and they were bound to answer in as much detail as they
were able to. Some of the older ones had been trapped there for a hundred years.
history museums and for a small sum you could go in and talk with them as much as you liked,
ask them any questions you liked and they were bound to answer in as much detail as they
were able to. Some of the older ones had been trapped there for a hundred years.
If Augustine were to lose this match and thereby his head, his beautiful features would be
preserved for all of eternity and he would be at the endless mercy of these fangirls as they
twittered whimsical nonsense at him about the deep endless pool of his blue eyes. For as long
as they wanted. No workers rights for him. Or tea breaks, loo breaks, holiday leave or even a
home to go to. He would be trapped at the museum for five years until it was his turn to be
kicked about the field. Then he would go back to the museum.
preserved for all of eternity and he would be at the endless mercy of these fangirls as they
twittered whimsical nonsense at him about the deep endless pool of his blue eyes. For as long
as they wanted. No workers rights for him. Or tea breaks, loo breaks, holiday leave or even a
home to go to. He would be trapped at the museum for five years until it was his turn to be
kicked about the field. Then he would go back to the museum.
Like i said, high risk, high reward. An insane gamble.
“Oh look, it’s starting!” the woman in front of me gasped, bringing me back to the present.
“Come on Sledgehammers!!” her companion yelled, somewhat startling the surrounding members
of the audience with her vocal ferocity.
of the audience with her vocal ferocity.
Augustine, with his beautiful blond hair blowing gracefully in a breeze none of us could feel in
the stuffy stadium, stood balanced, poised on the back of his battering ram pretending to be a
motorbike, and deftly tapped the captain of the losing team from the previous tournament under
the chin. The head flew towards the first hoop, the other side already swooping in a wave of
smog and smoke from their own machines to intercept it.
the stuffy stadium, stood balanced, poised on the back of his battering ram pretending to be a
motorbike, and deftly tapped the captain of the losing team from the previous tournament under
the chin. The head flew towards the first hoop, the other side already swooping in a wave of
smog and smoke from their own machines to intercept it.
“Players, play ball.” I murmured to myself and sat back to watch the show.
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