GC: (with disgust) What am I supposed to do with that?!
It took some convincing, ok it took a great deal of convening, but the Goddess finally agreed to play with the standard issue fencing foil rather than her own sword.
GC: (taking out her sharpening stone)
MM: NO! Er...uh...I mean it's not suppose to be sharp Goddess. You might hurt somebody.
GC: (blank stare) Your point?
MM: Uhm, Trancer is already really busy with the aftermath of the last event.
GC: (blank stare)
MM: Uhm, you might get blood on your new Nikes?
GC: Mmmmm. Well alright. But someone is going to pay for this. I mean look at this puny little thing. (holds sword out in front of her, whips it through the air a few times) SWEET MOTHER OF ZEUS! It's all bendy. Bard, if this is a joke, so help me...
MM: No Goddess, I swear. ( I guess this would not be a good time to bring up the dress code for this particular event)
Enter Matt in full Fencing Garb.
GC: (blank stare, eyes widen to project menace)
MM: (stupid twin)
Matt: (what? What did I do?)
GC: (getting even more angry as the twins continue to bicker telepathically) There is no way in Tartarus I am going to wear that, that thing.
Matt: (still oblivious) Ya got to Goddess, it's the rules. (then with a wink to Melissa, Matt begins to groove around the gym, yes he had installed a soundtrack)
GC and MM: You have got to be kidding.
GC: Stop that!
Matt: (with one final shake of his groove thang) Stop what?
After much convincing, the Goddess released Matt from the Grip of Death and it was agreed that she would not be required to wear the traditional fencing uniform.
While the Goddess was the clear favorite to win the individual competition, The Outlaws were the obvious team favorite. And they would have won too, if Morgan Adams hadn't developed a rare case of amnesia which only inhibited her ability to weld a sword. Even more unfortunate, and most coincidental we assure you, Brant, Xena, and Autolycus all developed a similar ailment at the precisely same moment. Gee, those fates sure have a funny sense of timing.
Never, not even in her wildest dreams (her most painful sure, but not her wildest), had Erin imagined she would be in a sword fight with the Goddess. It was quite an honor indeed. Even if it was with these stupid bendy swords that Melissa insisted were quite standard. Erin suspected the bard was playing some sort of trick...who ever heard of a sword that wobbles? They're not even sharp for Goddess-sake!
Callisto stalked towards Erin, twirling her sword a few times. She frowned as it made a pathetic whiffing noise, not very menacing at all.
Erin lapsing into a warrior haze, put her hands on her hips, threw back her head and laughed. "HA! You call that menace?!"
I think we all said a little prayer for Erin that day.
Callisto only smiled. "Dear sweet Erin, you poor misguided fool."
(GC lunges at Erin, who manages to avoid being whacked)
Erin: Go away steewpid Goddess, or I shall be forced to taunt you a second time!
(swords clash back and forth, GC driving Erin back)
GC: Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries!
(swords clash again, Callisto knocking Erin's foil to the ground)
GC: And now, you die.
Tho Erin would later deny it, an actual whimper escaped her. She learned a valuable lesson that day, swords without points aren't necessarily such a bad thing.
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