Cheerleading Table Tennis?

I've always been competitive when it comes to sports. I'm especially competitive when it comes to tossing a ball high into the air and smashing it back down to the ground with a large metal stick, invisible green blood spurting out of its imaginary wounds. Yes, I'm talking about table tennis. (Note from The Editor: Since when were table tennis racquets made of metal?)
   Yesterday, during P.E, Evil, Bats, Hyper and I were all lying in wait for our chance to torture that innocent ping-pong ball as we played our sadistic game, chucking it off the table towards our competitors.
   Bats and I were on one team, preparing to commence with our ninja-style attacks, while Evil and Hyper were on another team prepared to battle us to the end with their pom-poms. Wait. What?! Yes, they were holding pom-poms.
   Hyper had a lovely blue pom-pom balanced on her head like a bad hair cut, and Evil had neon yellow pom-poms attached to her hands, making her look like a muppet.
   We were clearly in shock when we saw them like this, and thought little of their abilities. Let's just say you should never underestimate the power of a muppet. The ball entered the pom-pom and never came back.
   When we went searching for our missing ping-pong ball in the pom-pom, a lot of unusual creatures came scurrying out from the depths of the yellow strings. (Not really, but it sounds more interesting when you say that.)
   As we battled against the opposition, we soon came to the finals of the tournament. We were faced with Hyper and Evil, who had also eliminated all their enemies with their muppet abilities. We had a brief chat with our coach (and by 'our' I mean all four of us), Kat, before facing each other for the final battle.
   The battle raged on for what seemed like eternity with the songs from the iPod ringing in our ears and the squeals of our ping-pong ball making a background beat.
   Bats and I thought we were winning with our special slam dunks and three-finger attacks. But that soon changed. Hyper and Evil got serious as they slammed the ball back to us and into the wall behind us, leaving a dent as a marker. (Again, this never really happened but to heck with reality.).
   Still, we battled long and hard and, with the last of our energy, we flung our new ping-pong ball (the original ended up with a dent in it) back at them before our energy was spent and lost the final point. Afterwards, we celebrated their success with drinks (stuff like lemonade, not proper drinks), and talked about the whole thing before the bell rang and we left.
   As I walked to the bus I saw bags full of guts on the ground squashed to the pavement. Sick fifth years. Anyway, this has no purpose here!
   As a conclusion, do not, repeat DO NOT, let cheerleaders play table tennis. They are more dangerous than they appear.