Still feeling kind of green from how the mop was acting on him, he walks back to the pitch, and mounts the mop for a fourth time. Blinking he kicks off from the ground hard, again making it a good ways up in the air as he does so, once again.

All is going well as he starts down the pitch again. Sighing with relief, he smiles. Going slow was working just fine.

That was until....he realized he was sliding down the end of the mop and the mop handle was starting to point upwards! Groaning he pushes with his hands as hard as he could, trying desperately to get it to level. His legs dangling under the tail rags as he sits on the barely, getting completely wet, well...on his bum.

"No!" he cries as he fights trying to pull himself back up on the mop again. Why he was still fighting to fly this thing was beyond him.