Tom VS - School Spirit (3)

“You know, football would be a good alternative to the blood sports played in the underworld.”
	“Oh, really?”
	“Yeah, less risk of the best players being killed on the pitch. Or off it, really.”
	“Sounds pretty intense.”
	“Let me put it this way: fans prefer to place bets on how many deaths there are for each team, rather than goals.”
	“Something tells me we’d have the worst odds if our school were to play against your old school’s team.”
	The spirit rally before Echo Creek High’s next game against the Warriors was well under way. The crowd of students were thrilled watching the cheerleaders’ routine.
	“Go Echo Creek! Let's try not to get beat! Go Echo Creek! Let's try not to get beat!”
	“How inspiring,” Tom deadpanned.
	“Well, maybe you could give them a few pointers? You know, from an outsider’s perspective.” Marco suggested. “I bet the cheering teams in the underworld have INSANE routines.”
	Tom's mind looked back at the games his father had taken him to. The image of literally flaming hot daemonettes had burned into his young mind, their routine consisting of a combination of gratuitous fornication and graphic violence.
	“Let's hear it for the Awesome Opossums!” the head cheerleader cried, electing cheers from the crowd. Brittney visibly basked in the attention, taking in the masses on the stands. Her eyes met Tom's for a moment before huffing and pointedly looking away.
	Tom cleared his throat before addressing Marco again. “I doubt they'll be able to do anything so... extreme. But I guess I could make a few suggestions.”
	Marco was impressed to see Ferguson dressed in a ratty opossum mascot outfit, though Al’s news of the original awesome opossum’s passing hit him pretty hard.
	“He was such a good friend... I'll miss him so much.” Marco moaned.
	“Come on, dude, it's alright. It's just a possum.” Tom patted his friend on the back.
	“No! Not the stupid rodent! Ferguson! The Warriors are going to kidnap him to damage our morale!”
	“...Uhuh.” ‘Do they really need to?’ Tom thought to himself. ‘From the sounds of it they have this game in the bag already.’
	“Alright, here’s the plan.” Marco said, standing up suddenly. “You help out the spirit committee with their routine, and I’ll keep any Warriors agents away from Ferg.”
	“You know what? Sure thing. Catch up with you at home?”
	“Ya, see you then, Tom!”
	And he was off down to the pitch, where Ferguson was gasping for breath in the heat of his fursuit.
***
After the rally, Tom made his way down to the gymnasium, where the spirit committee were continuing their practice for the game. Having learned his lesson from last time, he carefully let himself into the hall without slamming the doors, just in time to see Sabrina vault off a trampoline, perform multiple somersaults and be caught safely in the arms of the spirit boys.
	“YOU!!”
	The unholy screech made the spirit boys jump, dropping Sabrina to the floor with an almost resigned “Oof!”
	Tom managed to collect himself in time for Brittney to get right in his face.
	“What have I told you about interrupting our practice and distracting my cheerleaders?!” She pointed down at Sabrina, being helped back up by the other cheerleaders.
	“I-I'm okay-” she started.
	“Zip it!” Brittney snapped her hair like a whip. “I don't know what you're playing at, three-eyes. If I was as paranoid as some of the other students, I’d say you were a Warriors spy sent here to sabotage the game!”
	“Actually, I came down to watch you practice, maybe help out, if I can.”
	“So, what, you're a gymnast as well as a freaky demon?”
	“Well, no but, uh, in- well, where I’m from we have cheerleaders too, and I thought I could give you some pointers?” Brittney didn’t look too convinced. “You know, stuff no-one on earth has seen before, to give you a surprise advantage?”
	“Hmph, we don't need any advice from a loser boy like you.” She looked away dismissively before appearing to have an idea. “Although, I suppose we could use a test audience for our secret weapon.”
	She pushed Tom down onto one of the spectator seats and snapped her fingers. Andrea, Chantelle, a somewhat stiff Sabrina and the other cheerleaders assembled beside her, facing away from Tom.
	“We're gonna distract them with our booty-shaking dance moves! Uhuh!”
	‘Well, they're no daemonettes,’ Tom reflected. A few of them seemed a bit embarrassed to be doing this in front of an audience of one, but they were putting a lot of work into it. ‘But still...’
	“Yeah, great! Very, um, distracting.” Tom said, not quite able to meet any of their eyes.
	“As if there was ever any doubt!” Brittney proclaimed, looking closely at Tom's reddened face, who was still looking away from her. “Well, better the pervert you know than the ones you don't.” She indicated the doorway and windows, where a number of boys were trying, and failing, to keep themselves hidden.
	“Pervert?! I’m not-!”
	“A guy who watches demon cheerleaders, always coming to watch the spirit committee practice? Yeah, you're a pervert.” Brittney insisted gleefully, making the other cheerleaders uncomfortable. “So here's what we’re going to do. We're going to run through our whole routine a few times, and you can tell us just how distracting we are. And if you leave early, well, who knows, maybe you went rummaging through the girls’ locker room while we were practising?”
	The threat was not lost on Tom. “Alright, I’ll... watch you.”
	This earned him a few dirty looks from the girls. He tried to say it was a misunderstanding, but Brittney seemed quite pleased. “Excellent. Spirit committee, take your positions! One, two three four!”
***
By the time Tom made it home it was well past dark. The spirit committee really ARE relentless. He had tried to run damage control for the sake of his reputation, but thanks to Brittney’s constant jeers he could only hope the cheerleaders didn't really think he was a pervert.
	He let himself in and was greeted by Angie, who offered to heat the leftovers from dinner for him. He thanked her and headed upstairs. He opened his door to find his pink bunny splayed out on his bed, covers tangled up in his legs as he looked innocently up at Tom.
	“I think you make more mess of this room than I ever could.” Tom smiled as he sat down, patting the bunny between its floppy ears. The door creaked open and Ferguson let himself in, still wearing the opossum suit. “Hey, dude. Is Mrs D. cooking again?”
	“What, you mean you've been here all day and they didn't offer you dinner?”
	“Oh, I’ve had dinner, but I’m putting on a few pounds before I go hibernate.”
	Tom rolled his eyes. “What are you doing here anyway?”
	“Marco. He's decided that him keeping me prisoner is better than letting the Warriors get me,” he huffed. “Man, I knew the risks when I took this job. Nothing like a kidnapping story to get the ladies interested...”
	“Where is Marco anyway?”
	“Out. I'm getting kinda worried about him, he had this crazy look in his eye when he left. Said something about a shovel?”
	“MARCO DIAZ!” a scream came from downstairs. “What in the WORLD are you doing?”
	“Official Opossum business, mom!” Marco yelled, running up the stairs. He looked into Tom's room as he passed. “Tom! Good, you're here! Listen, I need your help...”
	“Marco, what is- is that-?!”
	“The original school mascot: Alberto ‘Awesome’ Opossum!”
	True enough, the corpse of the deceased marsupial was wrapped in a blanket in Marco’s arms.
	“Marco, whaaa-?”
	“I had this idea, see, the Warriors won't know that he's dead yet, and that Ferg is our new mascot. So, Tom, you could bring Opossum back to life, the Warriors steal him, and in the meanwhile Ferg slips under their radar and can appear safely at the game! It’s brilliant!”
	“It's crazy! Can Tom even bring things back to life?!”
	“I dunno, can you?”
	“Uh... well, I could ask my dad, I guess. But really, Marco, do we really have to go to these lengths when we could, I don't know, just find another opossum?!”
	“No way, dude, that would never work.” Ferguson said somberly. “Even the Warriors could tell the difference between the Awesome Opossum and a fake.”
	“Are you serious?” Marco and Ferg nodded in unison. “Are you kidding me, it's an opossum! They all look exactly the same!”
	“Seriously, Tom, the Awesome Opossum is unique. One of a kind. There's no opossum in the world like him.” Marco insisted.
	“Aghh, fine. Just, can you give me some space to call my dad? He can be pretty...intense when meeting new people, you don't want to deal with that.”
	“Sure thing, we understand.” Marco accepted the pink bunny from Tom and followed Ferguson out the room.
	“So, what do you think is up there? Family trouble?”
	“I guess, maybe? I mean, he did send Tom to earth. Maybe something happened between them?”
	“Mirror mirror on the wall, call dad.” Tom's voice sounded muffled through the recently re-plastered wall.
	“Calling dad.”
	It was rude to eavesdrop, but Marco and Ferguson’s curiosity was too great.
	A deep rumble came from the room.
	“Hey, dad, how's it going?”
	An ominous noise like approaching thunder responded.
	“Yeah, school's good, Marco’s been helping me get used to things here.” Tom sounded slightly weary as a sound like water slapping at rocks down a deep chasm sounded.
	“So, listen, I need a favour. The school's mascot died recently, and I wanted to bring it back to life.” A distant avalanche... “No, it’s to help out a friend. There's a football game coming up and-”
	A shriek of tortured metal grating on bone pierced the night air.
	“Dad! No, it is not for my girlfriend!” The sound hit a mind-numbing pitch. “I don't even HAVE a girlfriend!”
	Sudden intense silence, like the abyss of intergalactic space.
	“Yeah, an opossum. Apparently you'll know it when you see it.”
	A large building collapsing into rubble, followed by a creeping dread that made Marco and Ferguson nauseous.
	“Yeah, thanks, dad. Love you too. Bye.”
	“Tom, are you still on the mirror? Your dinner’s ready!” Angie called up.
	“Okay, coming!” The door opened and Tom almost ran into Marco and Ferguson. “Uh, were you guys listening?” No response. The two were stiff as boards. “Sorry you had to hear that. Dads, right?” he said wryly as he headed downstairs. “Anyway, Alberto should hopefully be waking up in an hour or so. Best keep him wrapped up tight, he'll be a bit jumpy after his time on the other side.
	“Oh yeah, Ferg, you want some? I’m not too hungry.”
	“...Nah, man.” Ferguson's voice was strained through unmoving lips. “I’m good.”
***
	The day of the big game was upon them. School had long since ended and the crowds were beginning to pack into the sports grounds. Tom had been kidnapped by Brittney after class and made to sit through the final rehearsal of the cheering routine again. He had to admit, they were really putting their all into it.
	Once practice was over, Brittney had ordered him to sit right in front of where they'd be performing, even handing him a ticket for the spot. “Remember, pervert, I own you,” she threatened before heading to the locker rooms. He had just shook his head and walked off.
	It had been hours since he'd seen Marco,and he wondered whether his plan had worked. Part of him wanted to call it off and put the poor opossum back in the ground, but really it was too late now.
	“Hey, Tom, where you been?” Marco clapped him on the back, dark lines under his eyes.
	“Hi, how did Operation Playing Dead work out?”
	“Complete success! They snuck into the school after class ended as I thought. I had just enough time to put A.O. back in his old cage before they stole him again. Nobody is any the wiser.” He looked pretty pleased with himself. “Wish we’d at least waited until this morning to resurrect him: he was chattering all night. I had to make a sack from my bedsheets and tie him up to stop him from escaping when I went to bed.”
	“Hey, it was your idea in the first place.”
	“Fair enough. What have you been doing all day?”
	“I’ve been watching the Spirit Committee practise.”
	“Whoa, they’re actually taking your suggestions? Didn't think Brittney would go for that.”
	“Not really, mostly I’ve just been a test audience and giving my opinion,” Tom shrugged.
	“Sounds like you're pretty into it!”
	“Well, honestly, I couldn't leave if I wanted to...”
	“What-?”
	“Hey guys! Looking forward to the match?” Alfonzo greeted them.
	“Hey, Al, where's Ferg?” Tom asked, eager to change the subject.
	“He’s in the locker rooms getting ready with the team. No sign of the Warriors yet, looks like they haven't caught onto the ruse.”
	“Excellent,” Marco said, disturbingly reminding Tom of Brittney the day before. “I’ll go keep an eye on him, you guys go ahead and get your seats. I’ll catch up with you when the game starts.”
	“Marco can worry me a bit sometimes.” Tom said as his friend left.
	“Yeah, he isn't usually so manic.”
	“What do you think it is?”
	“I think he took A.O.’s death harder than he expected.” Alfonzo said as they headed to the stands. “He's always been proud of our team, even though they suck, and I guess after having our mascot stolen so often, and then dying for good, he doesn't want anything like that to happen to Ferg.”
	They took their seats at the front of the stands. Seating was allocated by ticket, but for the most part nobody cared. Tom couldn't help but wonder why Brittney had been so insistent he sit here.
	Soon enough, the stands were as filled as they would be for a highschool football game, and Principal Skeeves made a short statement thanking everyone for coming, and wishing both teams good luck.
	Unfortunately, he left his mic on when he muttered about having bet on the match, leading to boos from the crowd before he skittered off.
	“Wow, he really has no sense of shame.” Tom sighed.
	“Maybe we'll actually win this year, and he'll lose his money like he deserves.”
	It was time for the pre-game performance. An announcer incoherently called the Warriors team to the field. The supposed highschoolers looked suspiciously like death row inmates to Tom, though he supposed they could just have developed early. Their cheerleaders followed thom out and performed a well-choreographed, if safe, in Tom’s opinion, routine.
	The voice then implied the Echo Creek High team were coming to the field. The teens lightly jogged onto the field, waving to family and friends, and generally trying not to think about the burly opposition. They were followed by the Spirit Committee who followed them onto the pitch, skirts and pom-poms shaking as they ran, chanting “Go Echo Creek! Let's try not to get beat! Go Echo Creek! Let's try not to get beat!”
	“Of all the suggestions I made, did they have to ignore that one?!” Tom facepalmed.
	Finally, Ferguson ran out in his opossum costume. His improvised and generally awful dance moves had the crowd laughing at him, but also applauding and cheering for him. In the meanwhile, the cheerleaders started setting up for their show in front of them. Tom caught Brittney looking at him, but she turned away and continued snapping orders at her teammates before he could say anything.
	“Ready? One! Two! Three! And!”
	“Two! Four! Six! Eight! Distract them with our booty shake!” they chanted together. Just as they had rehearsed, they had performed an impressive number of leaps and ended with Brittney being held up by two spirit boys in a human pyramid formation. The girls had their pom-poms on their waists and rolled their hips together as Brittney called “Oh, oh”.
	Unlike they had rehearsed, there was one subtle difference that Tom had noticed. Normally the cheerleaders would wear white sports bloomers under their skirts. This time, however, as Brittney was launched into the air, Tom was able to see up her skirt for a split second. The sight of lilac lace panties was not what he was expecting. And with his vantage point, even as she rolled her hips, he could still see them. Before he could collect his thoughts the boys had let her down, and they all took their seats a few yards in front of them.
	Brittney turned her head to look at him for a moment. ‘You pervert!’ she mouthed, smirking, before turning back to the other cheerleaders.
	...She planned this?!
	In something of a daze, Tom cleared his throat and turned to Alfonzo, only to see his friend's glasses fogged up, face red, and hair standing on end. “You-you alright, Al?”
	“...Oh dear.” Alfonzo muttered to himself, removing his glasses to clear them on his shirt before replacing them. “Oh dear.”
	Presently, Marco found his way over to them. “Nobody is going to try anything with everyone looking at him. Ferg’s as safe as he's going to be.”
	Tom and Alfonzo just shifted uncomfortably beside him, “What? What's the matter?”
	“Nothing! We're fine!” Alfonzo blurted.
	“Uh, hey look! The game's about to start!” Tom was doing a lot of this ‘not talking about it’ lately.
	Sure enough, the Warriors were just about to kick off. The kicker jogged forward before launching the ball well into the home team’s side.
	Before the ball could land, an unnatural keening cry sounded from the direction of the Warriors’ changing rooms, drawing even the most fanatical football fan’s attention. A small marsupial form darted across the pitch towards the ball, followed by two Warriors substitutes who looked like they'd barely escaped a mugging.
	“The Awesome Opossum?!” Marco and Alfonzo cried.
	“The Awesome Opossum?!” Principal Skeeves was in shock.
	“The Awesome Opossum?!” the cheerleaders looked grossed out.
	“The Awesome Opossum?!” the Warriors yelled accusingly at the teammates who quite literally let the marsupial out of the bag.
	“The Awesome Opossum?!” the crowd chorused.
	“Alberto?!” a women in a black mourning dress screamed.
	“You’ve GOT to be KIDDING ME!!” Tom shouted over all of them.
	Forgetting the game, the Warriors players moved to help their teammates pursuing the opossum, but were blocked by the Echo Creek players. At first Tom, like many in the stands, thought they were possessed by school spirit and love for the mascot that had returned itself to them. Then he recognized the dimness in their eyes and their inhuman strength in confronting their opponents: characteristics he knew all too well.
	“Dad, really?!”
	Justin picked up the ball, and A.O. along with it, and made for the opponents’ goal, where Skeeves and the mourning woman were waiting. Two Warriors managed to get past the defense towards him, but were brought low by Justin’s enhanced reflexes and a vicious flurry of claws from the undead opossum.
	“Wait, what's going on?” Marco asked.
	“My dad's damn opossum and controlling the team like puppets.”
	Tom left his seat, making his way around to the Warriors’ goal, with Marco following behind. He had to stop this before things went too far. Unknown to him, Brittney called out at him as he left.
	Working as a perfect unit, Justin’s teammates formed a protective cage around him, relentlessly blocking anyone who tried to end his advance. They made it halfway into the opponents’ side of the pitch before they were overwhelmed by the sheer mass of the Warriors’ bodies. Moments remained until Justin was tackled, and even he and the opossum combined couldn't pass the five hulking Warriors. Then, a flash of recognition in the opossum’s eyes. Tom was standing just behind the goal, beside Skeeves and the woman in black.
	Five bodies leapt in for the tackle, and Justin launched the ball, the opossum’s claws buried deep into the leather. The throw was perfect, but one of the Warriors made a futile swipe for it in mid-leap, knocking it off-course.
	There was one defender still hanging back, who started towards the ball’s new destination. Tom had no time to think. With a burst of speed beyond that of any mortal, he raced for the ball himself, but the Warriors’ defender had a head-start. Somehow, Tom barely managed to get into position to receive the ball first. The Warrior, recognising this new threat, changed his motion to attempt to tackle Tom. The opossum screeched with primal excitement.
	Tom reached up, catching the ball in his right hand just as the Warrior pounced.
	Only to stop in mid-air, robbed of momentum immediately by Tom's left hand.
	The stadium was deadly silent.
	Tom dropped the player to the dirt, before walking over to the line and unceremoniously dumping the ball and marsupial on the ground.
	“Game over, dad.”
	The woman in black threw back her veil and ran for the opossum, tears making her mascara smudge. She bundled the opossum up in her arms, sobbing “Alberto! Alberto...” The home crowd went wild with joy at the play, and the reuniting of woman and opossum, which wasted no time in burying itself into the woman's breast.
	“Oh, come on, son, don't ruin the moment for me! You might have a new momma after this...” the opossum said at Tom's unamused look, while time froze around them.
	“I asked for a resurrection, not for you to possess the team and attack their opponents. And Justin!” Tom gestured to his classmate, who had been crushed under near ten times his bodyweight in Warriors players. “He’ll be lucky to leave the pitch on his own feet!
	“And you’re supposed to be just watching the game, not making plays. And you're making an innocent creature cheat death, so really, who’s breaking the most rules here?”
	“Not. The. Issue.” Tom said through gritted teeth.
	“Alright, alright. I haven't had that much excitement in aeons. Too many daemons bitching at me for too long...”
	“Dad. There's a time and a place-”
	“Right, right, fine. ...You sure I couldn't take a few of these mortals to the underworld? There's an opening in the Third Division of the Blood Bowl League and I bet they’d make a killing- Well, after some torture-TRAINING, I mean, of course.” A crimson psychedelic portal manifested behind the woman in black, amorphous tendrils bleeding out of it.
	Tom didn't say anything.
	“Bah, fine.” The portal collapsed. “At any rate, it was good to see you in action, son. You seem to be getting a grip on the anger issues-”
	“No thanks to you.” Tom snarked.
	“-And you did well out here. You did a good thing for sugartits here, and for your school, even if you did violate the laws of nature to do it. I’m proud of you, son.”
	“...Thanks, dad.” Tom felt oddly touched. When was the last time he’d talked with his father like this?
	“Hey, don't thank me yet! Thank me when your little girlfriend comes over to see you!” The possessed opossum gestured with it's tail towards Brittney, who was marching across the pitch towards him, fuming. Alfonzo and Ferguson were following behind.
	“Damn it, she is not my girlfriend!”
	“Hmm, not yet she's not. Maybe-”
	“Stay out of it!”
	“Alright, alright. Well, better get back to it.” The opossum snapped its claws and time continued to flow again.
	“Those Warriors stole our Awesome Opossum, again, and went so far as to produce a fake body to cover the crime? Unbelievable, but it's the only explanation!”
	“The woman in black was still clutching the opossum to her. “I was SURE it was you! I really believed you were... Oh, Alberto!” Tom glanced suspiciously at the opossum, but it didn't seem to be acting strangely.
	Principal Skeeves clapped Tom on the, well, lower back. “And you not only uncovered their plot, but saved our mascot as well! Well done!”
	“What?! No! That isn't what-”
	“He means yes! That's EXACTLY what happened!” Tom shot a conflicted glare at Marco, who had butted in. “But, uh, you know, he's a modest guy, so don't think too much of it.”
	“Hmm, well I suppose a small reward could be made to you, as personal thanks at least.” Skeeves gave the opossum a pat on the head before moving off to confer with the referee.
	“What the hell was that?” Tom hissed at Marco, “None of this should have happened! This is our fault! I don’t want to be rewarded for anything!”
	“Oh, come on! The Warriors stole A.O.! Just because you brought him back to life doesn’t make it okay.”
	“AHEM!” Brittney glared pointedly at Marco, who looked between her and Tom before slinking off to give them some space. “Hmph. What the hell was that? You think running out on the pitch and ruining the game is going to impress me or something? Obviously you’re getting way ahead of yourself.”
	Tom didn’t know what to say to that. She was right about him ruining the game, even if she didn’t know the reason. After a few moments she broke her stare, huffing. “I didn’t expect your noodle arms to be so strong, or that you were a fast runner,” she mused. “Next time you come to perv on the Spirit Committee, maybe you could do something more than just watch...”
	The moment was ended by the announcer explaining that the game had been cancelled with the Warriors forfeiting due to unsporting behavior, though a rematch would be rescheduled soon, much to the crowd’s disappointment. Principal Skeeves was cheering however: he had bet on the Opossum’s winning, much to the teachers’ contempt, and disappeared to collect his winnings.
	As the stands began to empty, the school nurses carried Justin past on a stretcher, limbs covered in bandages. “Hey, Tom!” he called hoarsely, getting the nurses to stop. “I didn’t have a great angle to watch, but that was an amazing catch!”
	“Uh, thanks, Justin.” Tom said uncomfortably. “Sorry about your injuries.”
	“Ah, don’t worry about me. So listen, I was thinking maybe when we get back to practising next week you could come down for a few trials? We might have to put corks on your horns or something, but I think you’d be a great addition to the team!”
	Tom raised a hand self-consciously to his horns before glancing over at Brittney, who looked like she was biting her tongue trying not to say something. “Wow, thanks, man. It’s a great offer. But, well, I’ve been helping the Spirit Committee lately and they’re kind of counting on me.”
	“Hey, no problem! But anytime you want to try us out, just come on down to the pitch.” Justin waved as he was carried off.
	“What, you think I’m GRATEFUL or something?” Brittney huffed, face flushed. “I know you only turned him down because you wouldn’t be able to see the cheerleaders practising!” She stormed off, calling. “If I don’t see you at Monday’s practise, I’m going to the Principal!”
	Seeing her leave, Marco wandered back over. “What was that about?”
	“I think I just joined the Spirit Committee.” Tom sighed with a wry look.
***
	“I’m telling you, we have no idea what you’re talking about!” the Warriors captain cowered from the glare of the short Principal Skeeves.
	“Don’t you lie to me! The Awesome Opossum was found dead in his cage two days ago. I confirmed it to be him myself! We buried him! And now your team has been found with him in your possession, alive!”
	The captain glanced over to the cage in the corner of the Principal’s office, where the opossum was quietly licking its privates. “I’m telling you, we just came in here today. We took the opossum, but we didn’t leave a fake!”
	“If you continue lying to me, young man, I’ll see that your principal has you all banned from playing again!”
	The captain felt helpless. His team was going to be taken from him, but he couldn’t say anything to stop it. ‘That damn opossum...’
	As if hearing his thoughts, the opossum looked up at him and met his gaze, tongue still lolling out. But then its face split into an impossibly wide grin, eyes sparkling with an intelligence and malice beyond animal or human capacity.
	The captain leapt to his feet and ran out screaming.
	“I wanted to shock him into telling the truth, but I didn’t expect THAT response!” Skeeves said, sounding almost scared of himself. “At least you’re safe, Alberto.” Skeeves said fondly.