CARL: This is Carl Drake, play-by-play commentator for NBS Broadcasting, and we are live at the fifth game of the Continental League baseball series between the Salem Sluggers and the Dunwich Decadents.

TOM: That’s right, Carl. This is Tom Hicks, color commentator for NBS Broadcasting, wondering why it is that you and I seem to be calling virtually all the games in these series.

CARL: It’s true that we’ve called a lot of games recently; it could be a reflection of our practiced and Pavlovian patter, useful in providing white noise to those asleep in the stands or at home.

TOM: That’s right, Carl; either that, or we are just a pair of artificial intelligences not unlike those in sports-based video games, long ago shed of any mortal shells and doomed to an eternal digital purgatory of relating inane and useless information to people too tired or drunk to care.

CARL: Hell of a way to live, Tom.

TOM: That’s right, Carl. Hell of a way to live.

CARL: Looks like the Salem Sluggers are going to try and put another man on base. That’s Proctor at bat for the Sluggers with Carter on the mound for the Decadents. There’s the pitch, an inside fastball.

TOM: That’s right, Carl. Proctor looks like…yes, he’s charging his bat with infernal fire. Looks like he’s going to go for this one with all the dark powers at his disposal! Smart move of his, waiting until the ball was live to reveal what kind of blackest magicks he’d use on this pitch.

CARL: Especially after Corey was struck out by Pickman two innings ago, when the Decadents caused a gibbering mass of writhing tentacles from a place where man dare not tread to spring forth from the outfield to swallow Corey’s ball possessed by the spirit of his familiar.

TOM: That’s right, Carl. In that circumstance, I’d have used a broomstick ball instead of a familiar foul. Much better against the Decadents’ Gibbous Grab. In the meantime, Proctor’s hellfire ball is up, up, and away! It looks like one of the Decadent outfielders has just sacrificed the living soul of a teammate to summon a night-gaunt to pursue and ensnare the ball in its faceless, rubbery maw.

CARL: The Decadents’ outfielders–well, except for left field, who is now a soulless and decayed husk–are in place to catch the ball if the night-gaunt extinguishes and fields it, but…it’s no good! It’s out of here! Home run for the Sluggers!

TOM: That’s right, Carl. It looks like a bench-clearing bewitchment from Proctor’s teammates that got the ball past…but they may have unleashed more than they bargained for. The fans are not happy about this, they are not happy, and they are showing it by throwing it.

CARL: A reminder to our viewers at home that tonight is Ten Cent Potion Night here at Arkham Stadium, and many of the fans are well over the stated limit of six potions per person, and they are throwing those excess potions onto the field. It looks like we have a sentient grass monster in the center outfield, and the Sluggers’ shortstop has just been turned into a newt. Things are about to get ugly.

TOM: That’s right, Carl. This is fantasy baseball with the Continental League, Arcane division.

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