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@snottyotter
It was a cold but clear day, once upon a time in deepest Moss side. The elders had gathered in a clearing between the spent bullet shells and discarded shivs. Time was brief, designs had to be made, polo had to be played.
Silence....
Then....pspsssshhhh....a beer is opened, mumbling begins, voices gain volume, clarity follows.
A period of time passes, how much is difficult to say, the scene seems somehow different. Has the sun moved across the sky? are the hookers wearing different clothes? Where did that tramp go? Back to the elders, choices have been made, a split forms between them, 3 go one way, 3 another. They all unsheathe their mallets, mount their steeds and face each other. Something has happened, something big. Above the gunfire and vomiting students a call can be heard...3....2....1....POLO!!!