#wilsonette

The weight of responsibility is great for the man who determines the fate of the world... How fortunate for the world, then, that I carried this duty on the immense breadth of my shoulders. 

The tides of change had gathered: a migration of primarily women, both wedded and unwed, flocked to Feldcroft to witness a once-in-a-century spectacle, to watch as I savored a victory so rich, I'd bestow a light upon the land in my glory—a light which would never dim. 

Spectators watched with bated breath as I stood with one foot rooted to the earth, the other raised high behind me, kicking back sand onto the faces of the Darwin Dugbogs. If they couldn't handle the precursor to my Solomon Sandstorm, they'd be powerless against my array of Solomon Skills. 

Aura, the wild woman, vigorously shook her head, causing the sticks in her hair to rattle and clack. Her teammates responded to the sound like a call to battle, rising up and down, shifting their weight from heel to toe. My nostrils awakened, flaring rapidly in retaliation to the strange act. I should have discerned at that moment what Aura was—or rather, what she wasn't. 

A hand came to rest tenderly upon my shoulder. 

"She's not worth it, m'lord. Come, we have a championship to win," Banshee beckoned. 

"I'm afraid you're right. How're your hams, Banshee?" 

"More muscular than a mollusk. And more buoyant than a bounteously blubbered whale, m'lord."

While I never fully understood Banshee's gibberish tongue, I didn't dare question if it was due to her dearth of mental acuity. I was acutely aware Banshee hailed from a far less prestigious breeding line than mine. Nevertheless, Banshee compensated for what she lacked in intelligence with her impressively powerful calves. I knew the moment I spotted them, they were destined for greatness.

I'd rescued Banshee from a hag's bog back in my days as the best auror the Ministry of Magic had ever seen. She'd been living amongst a family of froads, effortlessly camouflaging herself from the hag's hungry stomach with her amphibious appearance. 

I found myself mesmerized by her skin's supple, leathery texture, glistening through the thick green haze of the bog, when my gaze descended to her hams. They were magnificent, and I'd questioned whether I had beheld one of the world's greatest wonders. 

Holding the perfect ratio of muscle to buoyancy, Banshee leaped nearly thirty times the length of her body—away from the hag and into my protection, leaving behind the tragic fate of ending up on a dinner plate. 

Some wish to discredit my heroic rescue, claiming there was no hag and I'd stolen a young woman from her family. These allegations have been proven, by yours truly, to be the false ramblings of my fellow aurors who desired to dethrone me. 

My life was forever changed the day I met Banshee. Together, we formed the world's most renowned basketball team, and where I later found my love, Wilsonette. 

WILSONETTE! 

Panic struck me quicker than a flobberworm plucked from the soil. Where was she? To think I'd let my eyes stray from her divine beauty for even a moment. I anxiously rubbed my palms over my leather green breeches, praying a material like my lover's would be a balm to soothe my fraying nerves. The attempt was fruitless; nothing could take her place.

I frantically scanned my surroundings. Wilsonette was not amongst my teammates—nor was she in the unworthy paws of the Darwin Dugbogs, who'd gone off to graze in the Cooper family's front garden, rich in fern and flower. 

As if the world had sensed my great anxiety, the crowd immediately parted, and I beheld a woman fair and glowing in the center. Was this an angel sent to restore the balance? Would she return to me my soulmate? 

The woman, pleasantly plump and short of stature, waddled her way up to the court. In her arms, nestled against her bosom, I saw her: the light of my life, my Wilsonette. 

OH! My sweet beloved! Safely cradled in the loving embrace of a mother-to-be. This was no angel but the healer of our hamlet and the official referee for the Feldcroft Flobberworms.

She plodded forward with a goose-like gait, straining to place one foot in front of the other due to the size of her protuberant paunch. Whoever made her swell with child did not with the seed of a sapling—but that of a mighty oak or a towering sequoia. Curious... Disregarding my degenerate dung-beetle of a brother, I'd only known the Sallow men to yield such exceptionally sized offspring. 

Taking a position at center court, she heaved up her belly to turn on her heel, then gently plopped it down once facing the crowd.

"Welcome, everyone," she announced, winded. "I am Referee Siobhan, and it is my great pleasure to welcome you to the championship game of the century! Let's all make a warm welcome for our visiting team. All the way from Darwin, Australia, please welcome the Darwin Dugbogs!"

Still in the Cooper family's garden, Siobhan had caught Aura and her teammates off guard, their mouths stuffed with sugarbush. Aura spat out the spiky flowers, then took one and tucked it behind her ear. 

She and her teammates scrambled to get back for their introduction. The women ran huddled together, forming the shape of a dugbog from above. 

"FLY THE FLAG!" One of them shouted. 

Up sprouted a beanpole. On it: the Darwin city flag, sailing through the wind with the aroma of a succulent Chinese meal. 

"And hailing from our very own humble hamlet: the Feldcroft Flobberworms!" 

The crowd boomed with life. Women launched themselves over the barricades, crawling to me as eagerly as a flobberworm doth inch, only to be pulled back into the raucous throng by their husbands. 

Perhaps it was due to the women inching like flobberworms, or my deep adoration for the spherical shape of Referee Siobhan's womb, but I experienced a sensation akin to floating, and the boundaries of reality faded around me.

The cheers of adulation softened, like a susurrating tide, as if to gently tuck me underneath a sleeping sea. Subsequently, my peripheral vision vanished, and the waves of women swelling against the barricades, caterwauling their claims over my Sallow Seed, were gently swept away. 

A light beamed down; a beacon! Before me laid an illuminated path leading to my Lady of Light. Balanced on the tip of Referee Sloane's dainty finger, my lover spun in an elegant display of athleticism and grace. 

I was lost in between the lines of her, delicately painted on by my expert hand. For in between those lines, I had laid my soul to rest. 

"Ladies and gentlemen, your attention, please. We are about to witness an extraordinary event!" Referee Siobhan announced. 

Breaking me from my reverie was Banshee, who was voraciously chewing a wheel of fetid cheese behind my shoulder. 

"Games abou' ta shtart, m'lord." She gulped audibly. "Fret not; my pipes are finely tuned with Feldcroftian bleu." 

Banshee backed into Flobberworm Formation, her stomach revving with a low growl.

Beneath my feet lay the black line painted in the dirt. With Wilsonette guiding me towards her, I'd managed to navigate the love spell to secure my spot at glory. However, I was not unattended. 

Aura stood directly before me, barefoot and bewildering with the untamed spirit of the Australian wild.

Her lips curled into the same vexing smile she'd worn earlier, emanating a peculiar sense of mystique—as if she could gaze into the future and behold the unknown. The intuition of a Pisces rising, perhaps.

My patience was wearing thin. With my pencil rolls sharpened and ready, I advanced towards Aura in a Solomon Strut: my signature stride, designed to feed the fantasies of every woman watching starved. I rolled and bucked my hips with each step until reaching Aura's tantalizing toes.

"Hope you're ready to go down to tumble-town, Sheila." 

Aura placed her hands on her hips.

"Fuck balls," she retorted.

Siobhan frantically pulled Aura down to her height. "Miss, I believe you mean to say: fuck it, we ball," she whispered.

Aura shot her nose up. 

"Now remember, there is only one rule: magic is strictly forbidden. Its use will result in immediate disqualification. Are we clear?"

Aura nodded in agreement while I swept low into a bow at Siobhan's womb. 

The back of Siobhan's hand met my cheek. 

"What? I'd be remiss not to pay my respects!"

"Do you understand, Solomon?" Referee Siobhan asked pointedly. 

"Of course! Do you truly believe I lack the knowledge of basketball's sacred rule?"

"I believe you lack many things, Mr. Sallow, knowledge in general being one of them." 

"Oh, Siobhan... How you wound me." I winked. 

Seeming satisfied enough with our understanding, Referee Siobhan proffered Wilsonette between Aura and myself as if her heart was merely a prize to be won. Oh, they sorely underestimated her. 

Aura lowered onto her haunches, her eyes shifting between mine and the space above my head. I inhaled deeply. My chest filled with unbridled testosterone. Banshee clapped her hams together with excitement.

"On your marks..."

Aura took the flower from behind her ear and swallowed it whole.

"Get set..."

I dug myself into the earth, ready to emerge a champion. 

🏀 Solomon Ballthazar Sallow: God’s greatest gift to women and the sport of basketball. Captain of the Feldcroft Flobberworms. The very sun itself.

✨ Banshee: Star player, tender-hammed calf haver, and teammate of Solomon on the Feldcroft Flobberworms. @2centniffler

🏀 Aura the Wild Woman: Comes from a Land Down Under. Pisces rising. Captain of the opposing team, the Darwin Dugbogs. Her life motto is: “fuck your balls”. @morelikeravenbore

✨Referee Siobhan, aka Sloane Sallow, and @sloanesallow ‘s MC, who I’ve plucked from her canon story and thrust into this crack-au. Referee of the championship game of the century. Wants to go home (for good reason). @sloanesallow

🏀 Tubercular Chamberpot: Solomon has either refused to learn his real name, or can’t spell it. He barged into this au; I had no choice in the matter—identity and origins to be revealed.