I was a coach of this childrens baseball team. We were practicing in a ravine in the Badlands. During our practice this group of people dressed in orange and black robes came down the trail in this big procession. They had a living stick figure on a pallinquin. I knew they were this cult so I was trying to protect my players. They challenged us to a game and I figured we didn't have a choice. They had a dugout in the side of a cliff that was enclosed with glass. The important ones and the stick figure watched from there. We played the game with this little flesh colored pellet for a ball, and everytime we lost a play, the ball was presented to the stick person. The little pellet became a part of its body, starting with weird fleshy hands and forearms. I had a feeling that this was a bad thing. It moved really strange and couldnt talk yet. My players kept bringing up the possibility of throwing the game because the other team was really good and the stick figure becoming complete seemed inevitable. Then my stupid alarm clock went off.