If it was played in my house, of course, I'd prolly be in a wheelchair as a consequence: I've had a 'clicky' right hip since I dislocated it in a Murder Ball game in 1972, and my boys are both bigger'n'me.
So's my missus, more's the pity, given that she's 10 inches shorter than I am.
JNCOs cadre 1979. Game of murderball on the football pitch.
WO2 running the cadre explains the rules - get the ball into the goal. Anything goes except killing the other players.
During one scrum a scream is heard from the bottom of the pile.
The last player to get up from the mud pulls down his shorts - there is a perfect set of teeth marks on one cheek of his arse. The teeth marks were so clear that a dentist could have probably identified which person bit him.
To be fair however, once everyone had had a look and stopped laughing, the injured party pulled his shorts back up and carried on.