2025-05-03, 04:13 AM - Word count:
(This post was last modified: 2025-05-03, 04:18 AM by denisbigfan1.)
It's a difficult season for many players in the minor league of the SSL. So called bounty-hunters - corrupt bureaucrats from within the SSL organism - have taken it upon themselves to embezzle funds meant for the wages of the rookies who have freshly entered the professional scene. They did this by withholding funds meant for paying out bounties to the players in a labyrinth of paperwork and have thus successfully safeguarded themselves from any repercussions, as the disenfranchised rookies simply have no means of tackling the legal obstacles that obtaining justice would require leaping over, given their position as atomized individuals.
One of the players, one Goodrick Whitewood I, has taken it upon himself to work a day-job, or in this case, a night job, given he must attend training sessions for his club, Seoul Mythic, in the mornings. When he's not perfecting his dribbling technique on the pitch, he's a missionary for Death’s Brood of Torment, a neo-religion with branches all across the world. "Death's brood a torment bring light an joy to everybody" Goodrick told us, his teeth's glare causing a malfunction in the lens of our video camera. "Mi personally" continued Goodrick, "have a revelation afta mi get Ai-deccan's light. Mi a one much warmer person now." Goodrick proceeded to touch one of our reporters, leaving a trail of coal and steam on their skin. "A son a Ai-deccan's holiness, Al-desk, help mi fi keep punctual fi training. Every morning him wake mi up afta a gratifying 20 minutes sleep, afta which mi head directly to train."
Goodrick heads straight to work after finishing training, taking his bag full of promotional fliers and incense, as well as his trusty branding iron. As he treads, flowers blossom in his wake, even in the deepest concrete. He's almost unrecognizable compared to his past self - a convicted felon who was involved in an international crime ring. Now, he's adored by both the locals and international fans of Seoul - who come from all corners of the world to take in the warmth that Goodrick exhumes. "Ai-deccan teach mi fi be polite" Goodrick added, as he elegantly kissed the hand of one of our female reporters, after which a rosebud sprouted from the back of her palm. "Keep it safe, water it. An feed it lots a sunshine. Dat a di seed a love." As Goodrick bid us farewell from his home, a kaleidoscope of butterflies lifted both us and our equipment back to our van.
One of the players, one Goodrick Whitewood I, has taken it upon himself to work a day-job, or in this case, a night job, given he must attend training sessions for his club, Seoul Mythic, in the mornings. When he's not perfecting his dribbling technique on the pitch, he's a missionary for Death’s Brood of Torment, a neo-religion with branches all across the world. "Death's brood a torment bring light an joy to everybody" Goodrick told us, his teeth's glare causing a malfunction in the lens of our video camera. "Mi personally" continued Goodrick, "have a revelation afta mi get Ai-deccan's light. Mi a one much warmer person now." Goodrick proceeded to touch one of our reporters, leaving a trail of coal and steam on their skin. "A son a Ai-deccan's holiness, Al-desk, help mi fi keep punctual fi training. Every morning him wake mi up afta a gratifying 20 minutes sleep, afta which mi head directly to train."
Goodrick heads straight to work after finishing training, taking his bag full of promotional fliers and incense, as well as his trusty branding iron. As he treads, flowers blossom in his wake, even in the deepest concrete. He's almost unrecognizable compared to his past self - a convicted felon who was involved in an international crime ring. Now, he's adored by both the locals and international fans of Seoul - who come from all corners of the world to take in the warmth that Goodrick exhumes. "Ai-deccan teach mi fi be polite" Goodrick added, as he elegantly kissed the hand of one of our female reporters, after which a rosebud sprouted from the back of her palm. "Keep it safe, water it. An feed it lots a sunshine. Dat a di seed a love." As Goodrick bid us farewell from his home, a kaleidoscope of butterflies lifted both us and our equipment back to our van.
