A rugged, handsome man had a megaphone in his hand.
"Aaaaaand in one corner," he said in a deep, velvety smooth, irresistible voice. "The guards, who we'll just call Snap, Crackle and Pop. Aaaaaaand in the other-"
A guard snatched the megaphone away from me.
"For the hundredth time, stop playing with the bullhorn!" he yelled.
"Only the third," I said dejectedly.
"James, get your hide over here now!" Phoebe screamed.
I scurried over to our side. Once I got there, I sized up the team of guards on the other side of the court. They were all radically different from each other.
Snap was a tall, wiry sort of guy, with Einstein hair and sunburned skin. He looked more like a scientist than a guard. He also had the most amazing moustache I'd ever seen in my life. I realized I was staring at it for a while. I shook my head to clear it and moved on to the other guards.
Crackle was super-short, maybe five feet, give or take a few inches, and he was pretty stout. His nose looked like it had been broken a few times. He was balding, and had absolutely no facial hair. Not even eyebrows.
Pop was huge. Like, so huge that if he sat on a weighing scale, I'm pretty sure his phone number would have come up. It was a wonder his uniform fit at all. In fact, it barely did, and I could imagine his outfit groaning at the seams. He had a triple, no, a quadruple chin and a flat top you could land a plane on. When he caught me looking at him, he smiled a wide, expansive grin. I could only see one tooth in his mouth.
The guard who had wrestled the megaphone away from me was now speaking into it.
"Let the games begin!" he announced.