It was a real pleasure to watch the Kid work . . . especially considering the fact that I taught him most of what he knows. I had to admit he had gotten pretty good over the years.
“STOP IT!! THAT’S ENOUGH!!” he roared. “I SAID, STOP IT!!!”
Still shouting, he waded into the players on the field who were locked in mortal combat. The ones who were standing he crumpled in their tracks with a gesture . . . a gesture which I realized as a simple sleep spell. The others he easily forced apart with judicious use of his levitational abilities. Two players who were grappling with each other he not only separated, but held aloft some twenty feet off the ground. As swiftly as it had started, the fight was stopped, and right handily, too.
As could have been predicted, no sooner had the dust settled than a troop of officious-looking individuals came storming out onto the field, making a beeline for Quigley/ Skeeve. While I may have lost my powers, there’s nothing wrong with my hearing, and I was easily able to listen in on the following exchange, unlike the restless fans in the stands around me.
“Quigley, you . . . How dare you interrupt the game this way?”
“Game?” Quigley/Skeeve said coolly, folding his arms. “That wasn’t a game, that was a fight . . . even though I can see how you could easily confuse the two.”
“You have no right to … Put them down!”
This last was accompanied by a gesture at the suspended players. Skeeve didn’t gesture, but the two players suddenly dropped to the turf with bone-jarring thuds that drew the same “Ooooo’s” from the crowd as you get from a really good hit during actual play.