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CALIGULA LIGHTNING'S ABHORRENT ANATHEMA! (#21)

 
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Vinny
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Joined: 16 Jan 2007
Posts: 5181
(Sun Mar 18, 2007 3:58 pm)
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Post     CALIGULA LIGHTNING'S ABHORRENT ANATHEMA! (#21)

Deep in the heart of MURDER, within its THICK JUNGLES lie hordes of men and women marching together. Guards in crude armor oversee the procession. As this is New America, it is understandable that when this many people are together, rape and murder will be involved. As the guards cruelly butcher those who clog up the line, the front rows have their destination finally in sight.

Emperor Caligula’s Murderena! It is the remnants of several buildings cobbled together in the shape of a Roman gladiatorial arena. The patrons file in and find their seats as high above them all sits their Lord and God, Emperor Lightning.

Lightning sits on a throne befitting his title. It was constructed by having recently despoiled virgins arranged in the shape of chair. Then boiling, liquid metal was poured over them to cast it. Caligula brings his ever-present chalice of blood to his lips, sucking in the nutrition as he slave women slob on his knob.

“Ku ku ku …” Caligula smirks, “It’s a fine sight, indeed.”

Just then, a cluster of guards enter from behind Caligula, dragging along two prisoners. One is a man with wild mop of dirty, feathered hair resting on his skinless face. On the front of his skull is a mask tattooed ONTO the bone. This is none other than Warrior W. Warrior, former KING of WARRIOR LAND.

And beside him is a portly, which is odd in these trying times, fellow with a stone-etched face and a black cowboy hat resting on his balding head. This is Jim Ross. The stress from vomiting up the entirety of his blood at Death Race 2007 has left his ENTIRE face paralyzed.

“These are the men you requested, Emperor Caligula,” a guard says, kneeling.

“Good good!” Caligula motions to bring them forward.

Caligula nods approvingly as the guards lead Warrior and Jim Ross into Caligula’s field of vision. Warrior Warrior bows complacently at the man who bested him in combat while Jim Ross drools a little from his mouth.

“Gentleman, it’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Caligula’s voice booms, his rancid, death-soaked breath blowing back Warrior’s hair. “I’ll be requiring your services once again. I find your commentary delightful, so I would be hoping you’d provide insight on today’s matches.”

“Certainly, sir …” Jim Ross slurs, “but I haven’t commentated much these past few years. And I haven’t been the same since FTU-“

SUDDENLY, JIM ROSS FEELS HIMSELF PRESSED INTO THE GROUND. EMPEROR CALIGULA LIGHTNING LAYS A GIANT PALM ON ROSS, NEARLY COVERING HIS ENTIRE BACK. ROSS LOOKS UP TO SEE LIGHTNING SMILING.

“That word is forbidden in this land, Mr. Ross,” Caligula Lightning says. Caligula shoos them away and the guards lead Ross and Warrior to their booths. At that time, the 13 participants for ABHORRENT ANATHEMA are lead into the arena.

Deimos, Kanzaki Kenjiro, Thrak, Lunar Plexus, Doolittle, Harry Underwood, Axelrod Waylyn, Glorious Titan, Nick & Al Sparta, Dwayne Guan, the Illusionist, and Corporal Body all arrive in chains. The bloodthirsty fans SCREAM FOR COMBAT and the guards shoot cannons full of rock salt at them to calm them down. Caligula bares his jagged teeth and grins at the sight.

“How wonderful, how absolutely marvelous! They all look strong indeed, all excellent specimens!” Caligula grunts. “It fills me with a sensation that brings me back to that day.”

CALIGULA grabs his ROBE and undoes it. His gigantic fucking gut SLUMPS FORWARD, a massive, THICK SCAR running up from the center of his chest down to just under his stomach.

”It burns … it yearns for VIOLENCE!” Caligula says. He immediately grabs one of the SLAVE WOMEN off his cock and SQUEEZES HER like a fucking tube of toothpaste, her BLOOD SHOOTING from her GULLET ONTO CALIGULA’S GUT. Caligula rubs the blood in like OIL and LAUGHS UPROARIOUSLY.

“Yes, the blood is good today!” Immediately Caligula JAMS his BEER BOTTLE-sized index fingers in the remaining two slave girls ears until his FINGERTIPS come out the OTHER EAR. As they have SEIZURES, CALIGULA RAISES THEM OVER HIS BALCONY AND SHOUTS TO THE CROWD.

“MISERABLE WRETCHES, ONE AND ALL! Tonight you can escape BRIEFLY from the unyielding HORROR that is YOUR EXISTENCE and take SOLACE in the SUFFERING of the combatants I’ve PROCURED for your amusement! These thirteen men will attempt to DEFY the CRUEL FATE they’ve been handed by OUR PERVERSE GODS and struggle to become CHAMPION in this ABORTED LAND.”

THE CROWD FUCKING EXPLODES, immediately BEATING THE SHIT OUT OF EACH OTHER as the guards begin LASHING them with ROPES with GLASS SHARDS glued to them.

“ALL HAIL EMPEROR CALIGULA LIGHTNING!” one of CALIGULA’S GOONS SHOUTS.

“HAIL!!” the CROWD RETURNS. CALIGULA SMILES and his LIFTS THE BITCHES IMPALED ON HIS FINGERS HIGHER INTO THE AIR.

“LET ABHORRENT ANATHEMA … BEGIN!!” CALIGULA BELLOWS, PULLING HIS THUMBS BACK TO PANTOMINE FIRING A GUN. SOMEHOW, THE SLAVE GIRLS’ HEADS EXPLODE AND THEIR DECAPITATED CORPSES FALL INTO THE ARENA BELOW AND ARE IMMEDIATELY VIOLATED BY JACKALS.


Last edited by Vinny on Sat Mar 24, 2007 5:11 pm; edited 2 times in total
Vinny
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Joined: 16 Jan 2007
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(Sun Mar 18, 2007 8:08 pm)
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Post     Re: CALIGULA LIGHTNING'S ABHORRENT ANATHEMA! (#21)

“I’ve brought him as requested,” a guard bows to Caligula who is picking his teeth with a sharpened femur. Led out in chains is a ragged, potato-sack wearing man. His body trembles as he gazes upon the pile of bodies set in front of Caligula.

“Ah, brother Reginald! It’s been awhile!” Caligula greets his brother Reginald Lightning, one of the last surviving Lightning brothers. “I’m glad to see that you’ve survived somehow in New America.”

“B-Brother Caligula … I heard rumors that you had returned but … I didn’t think it was-“ Reginald is stopped in mid-sentence as Caligula drops his humongous paw on Reginald’s head. Reginald immediately collapses onto his knees from the immense weight.

“It’s been so long … the last time I saw you, you were about …” Caligula presses down further, squashing Reginald slightly, “… this tall. That was so many years ago, wasn’t it?”

“B-B-Brother … my n-neck …” Reginald drools as he heels his spine COMPACTING.

“After you and our brothers had me exiled.”

“I d-didn’t … Caligula … p-please …” Reginald is in tears now and Caligula finally lifts his paw.

“Oh, of course not. You must have been five,” Caligula laughs, “I don’t blame you at all. It was those decades lost in the uncivilized, dark recesses of the world that were my formative years.”

A doctor (a guy with a blood-soaked butcher’s apron and a surgical mask on his face) walks out with a syringe on a plate.

“Ah, it’s ready,” Caligula says, seeing the syringe. “Now, brother Reginald, as a Lightning we are raised to become announcers, to leap glory and praise onto humanity’s finest. And I think it would be appropriate that at such an event as GRAND as this that a Lightning were to be placed in the role of announcer.”

The doctor flicks the needle, ejecting a small bit of liquid.

“Yes, I could do it, of course, what with my voice so powerful and robust that you yourself are shaking just from hearing its magnificent and forceful timbre. But it wouldn’t be fitting for an Emperor to be delegated to such a lowly, although underappreciated, duty. That’s where you come in …”

Caligula pokes his fat finger into Reginald’s throat. Reginald immediately begins to choke.

“But your vocal chords … they’ve dulled from lack of use. But worry not, science has once again arrived to correct the oversights of our twisted Creators!”

The scientist slides the needle right through the Adam’s apple, piercing the vocal chords.

“This is a state-of-the art steroid that immediately develops muscular tissue. One of the side effects is cancer, but thinking you’d die from something like that is as ridiculous a notion as dying of old age in this hideous land!”

As the SERUM is INJECTED, A DOZEN VEINS SURFACE ON REGINALD’S THROAT. HIS WHOLE NECK BEGINS TO BULGE AND BLOOD DRIPS FROM HIS TEAR DUCTS AND NOSTRILS.

“F … F … FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!” REGINALD EXPLODES, RELEASING A BLOODY TSUNAMI OF SOUND THAT EXPLODES CALIGULA’S CHALICE. THE SHARDS OF METAL, UNABLE TO PENETRATE CALIGULA’S IRON SKIN, FALL TO THE GROUND AS CALIGULA SMILES.

“Announce the first match, dear brother.”

CALIGULA’S MEN CLEAR THE GLADIATORIAL PIT of DEAD FANS. TRUMPETS BEGIN BLARING as REGINALD LIGHTNING TAKES HIS PLACE.

LIGHTNING: OUR FIRST CONTEST IS SCHEDULED FOR WHEN EMPEROR LIGHTNING DECIDES THAT THE FUTILE COMBAT THE CONTESTANTS ARE ENGAGED IN HAS GROWN TIRESOME FOR HIM, or BY DEATH. Coming to the PIT FIRST, WEIGHING IN AT 190 POUNDS and HAILING FROM EXOTIC LAND OF BOSTON … DOOOOOLITTTTILEEEE!!

The IRON GATE leading to the PIT is RAISED by BURLY MEN and DOOLITTLE is GENTLY ENCOURAGED with SPEARS to walk out into the pit. As an ANCIENT BOOMBOX blares generic rock and roll, Doolittle PLAYS TO THE CROWD and runs his fingers through his LONG, PERPETUALLY-SOAKED HAIR. He adjusts his wrist tape and pulls on his leather boots.

J.R.: It’s been a while, hasn’t it, Warrior! I thought I’d never see you again!

W.W.: You saw me back when the Lightning Dome collapsed on itself.

J.R.: My point still stands. However, folks, we got an event to commentate and WHAT an EVENT it is. This is GOOD OL’ J.R., as always with my broadcasting partner Warrior Warrior, and tonight we’re bringing you ABHORRENT ANATHEMA. 13 men will battle it out for a VACATION, apparently. First off we have DOOLITTLE, a man who stands out in post-apocalyptic America because he’s NOT ten feet tall or made out of chainsaws.

W.W.: Yeah, in fact he just looks like some sort of douchebag! This is the kind of guy who couldn’t get into the FT- that place we used to work at. How he survived this far is beyond me!

J.R.: Maybe he has a secret! Like his arms shoot acid or he’s actually a demon.

As DOOLITTLE shakes his ARMS to SHOW how PUMPED HE IS, the opposite IRON GATE slowly raises.

LIGHTNING: AND HIS OPPONENT, WEIGHING IN AT 390 POUNDS AND HAILING FROM PREHISTORY … THRAAAAAAK!

HUNCHED OVER, a 7’11” beast man covered in thick, matted hair (not just on his head) drags his knuckles into the arena. A thick, rocky protrusion juts from his skull and his HUGE BROW obscures his eyes, causing them to appear as TWO WHITE DOTS.

J.R.: And our next guy is apparently a caveman! Doesn’t look good for Doolittle, Warrior.

W.W.: Cavemen were the Warrior Warriors of several billion years ago: paragons of manhood ate only raw flesh and fucked women in clusters.

J.R.: Thrak definitely has the size advantage but he certainly lacks the knowledge of modern combat. Of course, his arms are as big as Doolittle himself so yeah, he’s probably fucked.

AS DOOLITTLE AND THRAK SQUARE OFF, CALIGULA RAISES HIS HAND TO SIGNAL THE BEGINNING OF BATTLE.

“O.K. BARNEY RUBBLE, youse in for a WALD OF PAAAIN,” DOOLITTLE POINTS. Immediately he springs FORWARD and SLAMS THRAK with a CLOTHESLINE.

J.R.: A VICIOUS CLOTHESLINE … but THRAK DIDN’T FALL! Or even budge!

DOOLITTLE LOOKS UP AT THE GRUNTING POST-APE and down at his own PAIN-WRACKED ARM. As Doolittle TRIES TO PULL BACK HIS ARM, he finds it ENTANGLED in THRAK’S THICK CHEST HAIR.

“WHAT DA HELL?!” DOOLITTLE STRAINS FUTILEY TO YANK HIS ARM OUT OF THE NEST OF CHEST HAIR. THRAK pulls the GIANT BONE BOOMERANG from off his BACK and RAISES IT ABOVE HIS HEAD. As he sends it CRASHING DOWN, DOOLITTLE MOVES TO THE RIGHT AND AVOIDS CRUSHING. Thinking quickly, Doolittle grabs a SHARPENED bone from THRAK’S CAVEMAN UTILITY BELT and SLASHES HIMSELF FREE. Doolittle GIVES UP THE PRETENSE of using WRESTLING and JAMS THE BONE into THRAK’S CHEST.

J.R.: AND WE SEE BLOOD, FOLKS!

THRAK is MOTIONLESS as CRIMSON SQUIRTS from his PECTORAL. He SLAPS DOOLITTLE with one HAND, SENDING HIM SLAMMING INTO THE GLADIATOR PIT WALL (and managing to avoid the SKELETON-LADEN SPIKES JUTTING FROM THEM).

THRAK HURLS his BONERANG, it SPINNING AT HIGH VELOCITIES as DOOLITTLE ATTEMPTS TO SHAKE AWAY HIS DIZZINESS. DOOLITTLE DODGES THE BONERANG at the LAST SECOND, the BOOMERANG ARCING UP BEFORE HITTING THE WALL AND SLICING OFF FANS’ FACES.

J.R.: At our last job, the prohibition of weapons in matches was a technically a rule despite no one ever following it, but here they’re almost necessary!

As THRAK goes to RETRIEVE HIS WEAPON, Doolittle REACHES into his BOOT for a weapon of his own. BRASS KNUCKLES, a staple of the wrestling armory!

J.R.: I hate to say it, but even with brass knuckles, Doolittle is outclassed here!

As THRAK tries to PRY THE BONERANG out of a man’s torso, THRAK LEAPS ON HIM and DELIVERS A FLYING FIST DROP TO THE BACK OF HIS HEAD. Thrak WINCES IN PAIN and GRABS HIS SKULL before ATTACKING DOOLITTLE WITH A CHOP. With Doolittle’s EXPERTISE IN WRESTLING, he squats down and DELIVERS A VIOLENT HOOK TO THRAK’S GROIN.

J.R.: LOW BLOW!

But THRAK doesn’t react! Doolittle PULLS BACK his HAND to realize he punched THRAK IN HIS MASSIVE DONG instead of his NUTSACK. Oh no!

W.W.: THAT’S AN IMPRESSIVE COCK!

BOOOM! DOOLITTLE IS HURLED BACKWARDS from a VIOLENT GUT KICK by THRAK. As Doolittle tries to recover, THRAK PULLS two HIVES attached to his UTILITY BELT. HE HURLS THEM FORWARD and from within the HIVES explode a TORRENT OF PREHISTORIC WASPS.

J.R.: BAH GAWD! WASPS!

“S-Shit!” DOOLITTLE FLEES FROM THE SWARM. In DESPERATION, Doolittle DIVES INTO ONE OF THE MANY EVISCERATED FAN CORPSES LAYING INSIDE THE GLADIATOR PIT FOR PROTECTION. THE SWARM GOES OVER HIM AND ATTACKS THE FANS, FLYING DOWN THEIR THROAT AND INTO THEIR LUNGS AND STINGING THEM UNTIL THEY DIE HORRIBLE, AGONIZING DEATHS THAT INVOLVE PUS SHOOTING OUT OF THEIR EARS.

“This is bad … “ Doolittle thinks, “Is gotsa ‘ta think of something … wait, that’s it, THINKIN’!”

DOOLITTLE BURSTS FROM THE CORPSE like a badass as Thrak prepares his BONERANG.

“He’s just tah caveman!” Doolittle thinks, “I’s defeat him with my 21st century brain!”

DOOLITTLE CHARGES FORWARD as THRAK HURLS HIS WEAPON. HITTING THE GROUND, DOOLITTLE SLIDES UNDER THE BONERANG AND TOWARDS THRAK’S SPREAD LEGS.

W.W.: HE’S GOING TO PUNCH HIS DICK AGAIN!

J.R.: WAIT, NO, HE’S-!

DOOLITTLE’S BRASS KNUCKLES ARE ABLE TO BREAK THROUGH THE THICK SHELL OF THE HIVE. ANCIENT WASPS ARE UNLEASHED AND DOOLITTLE RUNS FOR IT AS THE INSECTS OVERTAKE THRAK. THRAK SCREAMS AS HE’S COVERED IN A THICK, BLACK CLOUD OF WASPS.

J.R.: BAH GAWD! BAH GAWD! THRAK MAY BE DEAD!

W.W.: THIS IS FUCKING COOL.

“GRAAAAAAAGH!!” THRAK HOWLS. CALIGULA EATS A PLATE OF FETUS PUDDING WHILE GLEEFULLY LAUGHING AT THE SIGHT.

“I guess it’s about over … or maybe I should declare the other one the winner after the caveman suffers some more,” Caligula mutters to his advisor, who just sheepishly nods.

“GOT YA FAGGOT!” DOOLITTLE FLIPS HIM OFF. AS THRAK FALLS TO HIS KNEES, HE REACHES INTO HIS UTILITY BELT and GRABS A CONC SHELL. HOLDING IT ABOVE HIS HEAD, HE CRUSHES IT AND A THICK, BLACK LIQUID POURS ONTO HIS WASP-COVERED BODY.

J.R.: What is THRAK DOING?

TAKING HIS SUPER FUCKING CALLOUSED HANDS ABOVE HIS HEAD, HE RUBS THEM FURIOUSLY UNTIL SPARKS START SHOOTING FROM HIS PALMS. SUDDENLY, THRAK IGNITES IN A BLAZE OF FLAMES THAT LIGHTS UP THE NIGHT SKY!

J.R.: BAH GAAAWD!!

“INTERESTING!” CALIGULA GRINS.

STAGGERING TOWARDS A NEARBY WALL, THE BLAZING THRAK SWINGS HIS BONERANG ABOVE HIS HEAD AT THE FANS LEANING OVER TO TOUCH THE COMBATANT. THEY ARE IMMEDIATELY BISECTED AND THEIR BLOOD RAINS DOWN, EXTINGUISHING THE FLAMES ON THRAK’S SKIN!

WARRIOR: OH YEAH, THIS IS GETTING ME PUMPED! I’d love Thrak more if he wasn’t probably from the ASIAS.

“S-Shit …” Doolittle falls to his knees at the sight of the BLOOD-SOAKED THRAK. Thrak, having built up a RESISTANCE to the WASPS’ VENOM, understandably doesn’t explode into a pus geyser. His thick, oily body hair acted as a SHIELD against the raging flames.

“Alls I got is that last move …” Doolittle looks down at his hands. As Thrak STOMPS FORWARD, DOOLITTLE LEAPS ONTO HIS SHOULDERS, AN IMPRESSIVE FEET EVEN AT THRAK’S HUNCHED HEIGHT. Before THRAK can REACT, DOOLITTLE BEGINS GOUGING AWAY AT THRAK’S EYES.

J.R.: THE EYE GOUGE! DOOLITTLE’S SIGNATURE TECHNIQUE!

“GO TO HELL YA BASTAAARD!” DOOLITTLE SCREAMS. AFTER FIERCE SLASHING, DOOLITTLE PULLS BACK HIS HANDS TO REVEAL HIS FINGERNAILS BENT BACK! HE LOOKS AT THRAK WHO’S FACE IS BLEEDING BUT WHOSE EYES ARE UNAFFECTED. HIS EYES ARE SET TOO DEEP IN HIS SKULL FOR DOOLITTLE TO BE ABLE TO GOUGE PAST HIS MASSIVE BROW AND CHEEK BONES!

W.W.: WHOA!

THRAK STARTS GRUNTING AND THE ROCK JUTTING FROM HIS SKULL BEGINS TO GLOW. AS THRAK TIGHTENS HIS HUGE PALM AROUND DOOLITTLE’S FACE, HE LEAPS LIKE FIFTEEN FEET IN THE GODDAMNED AIR. REACHING THE APEX, THRAK AIMS DOOLITTLE’S HEAD TOWARDS THE GROUND AND THEY FALL TO THE EARTH, THE IMPACT CREATING A GIANT PLUME OF DUST AND SAND. THRAK EXECUTED A FUCKING FACE CHOKESLAM ON DOOLITTLE!

J.R.: I’M CALLING IT RIGHT NOW, THAT’S THRAK’S FINISHER! AND IT’S CALLED THE BLAST FROM THE PAST!!

AS DOOLITTLE LIES IN A MINIATURE CRATER, THRAK BEATS HIS CHEST TO CELEBRATE HIS VICTORY. CALIGULA NODS IN APPROVEMENT, AND RAISES HIS HAND.

LIGHTNING: AND YOUR WINNER … THRAAAAAAAAAAK!!
Ryoko's Biatch
Joined: 04 Jan 2007
Posts: 9255
(Sun Mar 18, 2007 8:35 pm)
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Post     Re: CALIGULA LIGHTNING'S ABHORRENT ANATHEMA! (#21)

J.R.: This match should be a real slobberknocker. We're going to see Lunar Plexus, a man who has been making quite a name for himself over the last few weeks.

Warrior: That's right. I mean, sure, most of our fighters tonight have killed dozens, if not hundreds, of men, but Lunar Plexus has been doing that on a daily basis. It's quite a remarkable feat for someone who isn't me. Entire towns have been wiped out except for this one cunt who, I guess, sucks good dick or something.

J.R.: Regardless of how she managed to escape Lunar Plexus' unholy wrath, he'll be squaring off with Axelrod Waylyn, a rock god with the personality of a rock, but he can kill with the best of them.

Warrior: Backstage I watched him play one of the janitor's nerve like a guitar until his head exploded. I tried talking to him but he only spoke in ellipses. I don't know how that is possible.

J.R.: Neither do I, so let's throw it to Reginald Lightning.

Reginald Lightning: Coming straight outta New Plymouth Rawk, weighing in at 150 pounds, the ayatollah of rock 'n' rolla, AXELROD WAYLYN!

Axelrod walks through the entrance to the arena, his hands resting in his pockets. He looks around apathetically and scratches his chin with his left hand.

Reginald Lightning: AND NOW, weighing in at 500 pounds and an astonishing 9 feet tall, LUNAR PLEXUS.

Lunar Plexus is lifted out on the shoulders of a dozen slaves who promptly collapse upon reaching their destination. Hyle watches in a combination of horror and adoration as Plexus stares at his opponent. She knows he'll win, she just hope he doesn't kill everyone, including her.

"..."

"I don't have time for that. Either say something or allow me to murder you so I can get on my way. I have much more important individuals in need of killing."

Axelrod holds his right hand in front of his face, his guitar pick fingernails shining.

"Very nice, I suppose," Plexus says, "but it will take more than useless posing and black leather to impress me."

Axelrod disappears in a flash. Plexus simply raises an eyebrow. When Waylyn reappears, his guitar picks have buried themselves in Plexus' chest.

"Quite pedestrian as far as fighting techniques go, but I'll humor you. I'm in pain! Please stop!" Plexus grabs Axelrod by the neck and slaps him about the face, snapping Axelrod's neck back and forth. "It hurts so much! I do not know what I would do if only I could fight back!"

Suddenly, Lunar drops to his knee in pain.

"You shouldn't have let me get my fingers on your heart. Now I'm going to rock you to sleep. FOREVER!" THE TENDONS IN WAYLYN'S HAND SPASM AS HIS FINGERS PICK ON PLEXUS' HEART. BLOOD STARTS RUNNING OUT OF LUNAR'S NOSE AND EYES.

J.R.: BAH GAWD! That is an unbelievable move Waylyn has there! I've never seen a thing like it!

Warrior: That's because you don't know how to ROCK.

AND THEN LUNAR RISES BACK UP AND TOSSES WAYLYN AWAY, SENDING HIS BODY ROLLING ALONG THE GROUND.

"There is more to you than meets the eye," Lunar assesses. "Perhaps I should have learned something about you. It's quite unfortunate for you that I can control my heart and make it stop beating, otherwise you may have actually done me in."

J.R.: And then Plexus does something even more impressive!

Lunar Plexus marches forward, each step shaking the foundations of the arena. He rolls Axelrod over with his foot and then places the massive sole on his face. But Waylyn counters by sticking his guitar picks into Plexus' foot, making it kick him up onto Lunar's shoulders and then digs a pick under his jugular.

"I can kill you with a tiny motion."

"I can assure you that it is unnecessary for you to do so." Plexus replies and then DOES THE FUCKING DARK SIDE OF THE MOON (Read his bio so I don't have to explain it.).

J.R.: DARK SIDE OF THE MOON! DARK SIDE OF THE MOON! DARK SIDE OF THE MOON!

Warrior: Yeah.

Plexus picks Waylyn up by the scruff of his neck. "Please, put on a better show. I would have already killed you if Hyle hadn't informed me of the importance of showmanship. You are but a minor stepping stone, but you are the keystone of the pile so to speak."

WAYLYN DELIVERS A CLAWING UPPERCUT, CREATING FIVE LACERATIONS IN LUNAR'S FACE.

Plexus throws Waylyn away and looks at his own blood on his hand. He wipes the blood off on his pants and then walks to Waylyn, who once again digs his fingers into Plexus' leg.

Warrior: Come on! You already tried that one.

J.R.: Don't write him off yet! I have a feeling he's going to hang in there.

Axelrod strums his fingers along the muscle, causing Plexus to walk against his will toward one of the pits filled with horrific No Man's Land beasts. As Lunar Plexus takes the final step over the edge, Waylyn leaps off onto solid ground. He pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and sticks one in his mouth. He snaps his fingers together, sparking the end. He takes a deep breath and exhales, then starts walking away.

Warrior: Well, that was a surprise.

J.R.: For all of his strength, in the end it turned out that Lunar Plexus just didn't have the tools to combat such a deadly move as, uh, whatever Axelrod Waylyn calls his style of fighting. It's time to head to the BAH GAWD!

Warrior: The Bah Gawd? What is that supposed to mean?

WITH A HERD OF WILD MONSTROUS BEASTS BITING INTO HIS BODY, LUNAR PLEXUS JUMPS OUT OF THE PIT AND WRAPS HIS GIANT ARMS AROUND AXELROD'S TORSO. DELIVERING HEADBUTT AFTER HEADBUTT, BOTH OF THE MEN'S HEADS TURN WET AND RED.

Warrior: FUCK! FUCK YEAH!

Plexus sees Waylyn's eyes roll back into his skull and feels his body turn limp and drops him to the ground. Then he brushes the mutant creatures off of his arms and legs, then crushes their skulls between his fingers. The blood loss is finally getting to him, the adrenaline had kept him going after the animals attacked him. His own legs become wobbly.

J.R.: I have to reverse my previous statement, LUNAR PLEXUS is your winner!

Warrior: HELL FUCK YEAH YES!

BUT FUCK THAT, AXELROD WAYLYN ROLLS BACK AND PUSHES UP, KICKING LUNAR PLEXUS IN THE GODDAMNED FACE, KNOCKING HIM OFF HIS FEET. AXELROD LANDS ON PLEXUS' CHEST AND CLAWS WITH ONE HAND AND PUNCHES WITH THE OTHER, RIPPING LUNAR PLEXUS THE SHREDS. THE DUST SOAKS UP BLOOD, GROWING THICK.

J.R.: I'm not even going to guess what is going on now.

Warrior: ROCK N ROLL IS WINNING, THAT'S WHAT!

BUT NOT FOR LONG AS LUNAR PLEXUS CLAPS HIS HANDS TOGETHER OVER AXELROD'S EARS, BURSTING HIS EARDRUMS.

Plexus pushes Axelrod aside and then places his foot on Waylyn's throat.

"STOP!"

Everyone looks up to Caligula's luxury box.

"Geh heh heh. Leave him alive. He could be interesting in the future."

The fans boo the decision, craving blood and death, but Caligula has his chainsaw corps start cutting the blasphemers into pieces.
Ryoko's Biatch
Joined: 04 Jan 2007
Posts: 9255
(Sun Mar 18, 2007 8:53 pm)
Reply

Post     Re: CALIGULA LIGHTNING'S ABHORRENT ANATHEMA! (#21)

J.R.: BAH GAWD AND OKLAHOMA, do we have another great match coming up!

Warrior: You're wrong. We have a guy fighting the Illusionist.

J.R.: Don't sell the Illusionist short, Warrior! We've received word from some shitty kingdom that was recently conquered by the Chinese Kombo King that he won a tournament against some pretty good competition.

Warrior: You heard lies. This guy is a pussy p/c liberal if I've ever seen one. First, has he ever killed anyone on purpose? NO. He just does fruity magic that isn't even really magic and isn't even good fake magic.

J.R.: Well, that's true, but let's watch this fight anyway.

Caligula Lightning claps his meaty hands together, while rising to his feet. Reginald Lightning takes the cue from his brother and steps toward the balcony.

Reginald Lightning: Entering the ring first, at 201 pounds, from Atlantic City, Old New Jersey, is Victor Powers the Younger, a man popularly known among the masses as THE ILLUSIONIST!

The Illusionist nervously strokes the Dilettante's skull as he's carried into the ring on the shoulders of four slaves. "What am I going to do now? This guy, he's a paid killer!" The skull says nothing. Anyway, the crowd boos him because they remember how much he sucked before.

Reginald Lightning: AND NOW, at 190 pounds and from parts unknown, the mysterious assassin DEIMOS!

Deimos sits with his sword over his shoulder as he's carried in. When the palanquin stops, he jumps off and moves impossibly quick, like everyone who doesn't suck in FTUW can, and when he stops, the slaves fall to pieces. Caligula points and smiles at the spectacle. "Very good. He has a nice sense of the theatric. Give them a show."

Reginald Lightning: BEGIN!

Deimos stands spinning his sword like a badass and then throws the blade into the ground. The Illusionist, as usual, pisses his pants.

"Listen," Deimos says, "we all know I can kill you with ease. Why not give up and save us both the trouble?" Caligula raises an eyebrow.

The Illusionist holds the skull up to his ear. "Y-you're right, Dilettante. No! I won't give up!"

"Fine, let's do this then."

Deimos kicks his sword out of the ground and it flies toward the Illusionist. Scared out of his mind, the Illusionist stands there, staring at the blade that's about to fucking kill the shit out of him WHEN THE SIDES OF A BOX RISE OUT OF THE GROUND AND SURROUND HIM. The sword punctures the box and a hideous scream fills the arena.

THEN THE BOX FUCKING EXPLODES SENDING CONFETTI FLYING INTO THE AIR. Deimos shields his eyes and the Illusionist falls, hitting the ground hard.

"How didn't that kill me?" the Illusionist asks. "What's that? Oh, I did magic again. Maybe I really am my father's son. Yes, my father was a great magician! I CAN DO THIS! YES! YES! I FEEL GOOD! I FEEL GREAT! YES! I FEEL LIKE I COULD TAKE ON TEN VEGETAS!"

While reveling in his new-found power, he's kicked in the gut so hard he vomits.

J.R.: I was a little surprised there for a second, but it looks like this is the same old Illusionist. With any luck, Deimos will put him out of his misery.

Warrior: More like out of my misery. Fuck that guy!

Deimos stands over the Illusionist, who is curled into the fetal position. "Stand up, you coward."

The Illusionist looks up, bile running down the side of his mouth. Slowly he rises to his feet and dusts off his ill-fitted tuxedo, then dusts off the Dilettante's skull. "I was too cocky. I deserved that." He looks Deimos in the eyes. "But now I'll show you real magic!" The Illusionist flutters his fingers and a chain of handkerchiefs fly out of his sleeve, wrapping themselves around Deimos until he's like a neon colored mummy. He raises his head and the hilt of a sword comes out. Victor pulls the sword out, but coughs halfway through, cutting his throat and mouth. Waves of blood fall out of his mouth and the handkerchiefs fall limp, freeing Deimos.

J.R.: Well, that was almost good. But almost doesn't count in a fight to the death!

Warrior: No shit. Fuck this guy!

Deimos kicks the Illusionist in the face, knocking him down to the dusty floor. Victor Powers, bruised and bloody, crawls away as quickly as he can, his fingers clawing and feeling around desperately.

Warrior: Fag.

"Is that all the fight you're going to give? After all that bravado, you're just like all of the rest." A samurai sword appears in his hand. "Do you want an honorable death?"

The Illusionist finds what he was looking for; the Dilettante's skull. "What can I do? My magic failed me. You have to have an idea!" He looks at Deimos walking toward him. "I don't know if that will work, but you haven't failed me yet." The Illusionist gets back up, hunched over from the pain.

J.R.: The Illusionist isn't out of this yet! He's one stubborn son of a gun, most men would have thrown in the towel by now! He may be a damn fool, but he's a brave one!

Warrior: Yawn. Look, let me tell you about queers. They don't make the world work. I've said this time and time again, and yet the p/c liberal media that controls this country won't let you hear it. They want you to think that everyone is equal and blah blah, suck on a cock. WHATEVER. I don't want to hear it and I don't want my kids to hear it. Not everyone is created equal. Some people are queers. Others are spics. You get where I'm going with that. BUT NOT EVERYONE CAN BE A WARRIOR. This shouldn't be a shocking revelation to anyone who knows anything, but it bares repeating. That's all I'm going to say on that topic. I'm done with it.

J.R.: Oh, okay.

"What are you going to do with that skull, kid? Throw it at me?"

The Illusionist holds the skull high above his head.

"No, I'M GOING TO KICK YOUR ASS!"

THE ILLUSIONIST SMASHES THE SKULL ONTO HIS HEAD SO HE'S WEARING IT LIKE A HELMET. HE RIPS HIS TUXEDO OFF AND HIS MUSCLE GROW AND BULGE. HE STARTS FLOATING INTO THE ARE AS DOVES FLY OUT OF NOWHERE. IT'S PRETTY FUCKING COOL.

"WITH MY MAGIC AND THE DILLTTANTE'S LOVE OF SCIENCE FICTION, FANTASY BOOKS AND ANIME COMBINED, WE ARE UNSTOPPABLE!"

"I see. Well ..."

"KILLER RABBITS OF CAERBANNOG!"

THE ILLUSIONIST HOLDS OUT HIS TOP HAT LIKE HE'S DOING A KAMEHAMEHA AND A STREAM OF KILLER RABBITS FLY OUT LIKE A FUCKING BROKEN PIPE WHEN THE WATER ISN'T SHUT OFF! DEIMOS USES HIS KATANA TO CUT AS MANY AS HE CAN IN HALF, BUT THERE ARE TOO FUCKING MANY. THEY KEEP COMING OUT OF THE HAT AND THE ONES THAT DON'T TRY TO ATTACK DEIMOS JUMP INTO THE CROWD AND START RIPPING OPEN JUGULARS AND BITING OFF LIMBS.

J.R.: BAH GAWD!

Warrior: Good, Illusionist, you look kind of cool. For a queer.

Deimos says "Shit" as hundreds of rabbits try to rip him apart. He pulls knives out of thin air and tosses them through the killer rabbits, pinning them against the ground and the walls, but it's not enough. He drops his hand to the ground and a hole appears and he and dozens of rabbits fall through it.

J.R.: I DON'T KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON HERE! WHERE DID ALL OF THESE RABBITS COME FROM! WHERE DID DEIMOS JUST GO TO! BAH GAWD!

The Illusionist levitates around the arena and when he can't find Deimos, he lowers himself to the ground. "I can't believe it. We won, Dilettante. You were right. I can do it!"

AND THEN A HAND GRABS THE ILLUSIONIST'S NECK, CHOKE SLAMMING HIM TO THE FLOOR. DEIMOS STANDS ABOVE THE ILLUSIONIST AND THEN STABS A SWORD THROUGH HIS STOMACH, PINNING HIM TO THE GROUND.

"Call off the rabbits and I won't fucking kill you." Deimos starts kicking the rabbits away, but there are so many, it's like a sea. They jump up to Deimos' face and it takes all of his concentration to swat them away.

"God, I don't know how to make them go away! I can't control my magic that well! It just kind of happens!"

Suddenly the rabbits stop their attacks, even on the bystanders. They hop toward the Illusionist and swarm around his body.

"OH JESUS FUCKING CHRIST. OH GOD, STOP."

AND THEN THE RABBITS FORM TOGETHER INTO ONE GIANT RABBIT WITH VICTOR POWERS IN THE HEAD.

Warrior: This whole magician theme is gay. Next match.

J.R.: I really shouldn't devalue bah gawd any further, but that's kind of how I feel about this.

"I guess I can let loose now," Deimos says, clenching his fist. A dark red liquid pours out of the pores in his arm, hardening into a rocky skin. He points his hand toward the giant rabbit made out of regular sized rabbits AND THE FINGERS EXTEND INTO BLADES, STABBING THE ILLUSIONIST THROUGH HIS ARMS AND LEGS, WITH THE MIDDLE FINGER AND INCH IN FRONT OF HIS FACE. SPIKES FIRE OUT OF THE TEN FOOT LONG FINGER BLADES, BRANCHING OUT UNTIL ALL OF THE RABBITS HAVE BEEN KILLED, STABBING THEM THROUGH THE BRAINS.

"Surrender, or my finger does to you what I did to your friends."

Tears run out through the eye sockets of the Dilettante's skull.

"Ugh ... It's ... It's just a flesh wound."

The middle finger extends again, a millimeter from piercing the Illusionist's eyeball.

"GOD, DON'T KILL ME. I GIVE UP."

Caligula throws his chalice to the floor in disgust and instantly naked bitches clean up the blood. "This match is over."

J.R.: That just goes to show that nerds don't belong in the ring.

Warrior: Could not agree more.

J.R.: Deimos moves on to the chariot race!

The corpse removal crew enters the arena, brushing the rabbit corpses into pits. One guy picks up the Illusionist and drops him in another pit as the Illusionist screams, "Wait! I'm not dead!"
Vinny
[00:10] How can you get an erect dick into your own ass?
Joined: 16 Jan 2007
Posts: 5181
(Mon Mar 19, 2007 12:23 am)
Reply

Post     Re: CALIGULA LIGHTNING'S ABHORRENT ANATHEMA! (#21)

J.R.: We have 3 of the contestants for the main event chariot lined up and 3 more to be decided. Exciting stuff, Warrior!

Warrior: Chariot races are always exciting, Jim. It combines not only bloodsport but cruelty towards animals.

J.R.: Right as always. Next up we have Glorious Titan, the second time-traveling superstar and the third with Roman allusions in their character, against Nick and Al Sparta!

W.W.: Titan really fits well in Emperor Lightning’s Murderena, but I don’t like those Sparta fags! It’s fucking TWO AGAINST ONE. Weapons and superpowers are O.K. by me, and even sometimes violating your opponent sexually as long as it leads to their death, but TWO AGAINST ONE goes against the essence of a duel!

J.R.: Ah, but Warrior, Nick and Al Sparta can’t be conscious at the same time?

W.W.: What?

J.R.: They’re magical, you see.

W.W.: That’s bullshit! Let’s just wish that Glorious Titan decapitates them both in the name of our Emperor.

MUSCULAR MEN pull CHAINS and the IRON GATE OPENS for the next COMBATANT.

Lightning: And coming to the PIT NEXT, hailing from ANCIENT ROME and WEIGHING IN AT 290 POUNDS … GLORIOUSSSS TITAAAAAAN!

A HULKING BEHEMOTH OF A MAN DRAGS HIS SANDAL-LADEN FEET THROUGH THE DIRT. From head to toe he is COVERED IN SCARS, including numerous CUTS ON HIS HEAVY GUT. His body is covered in an ARMOR OF MUSCLE that complements well with his ACTUAL PLATE ARMOR. He stands in the center of the PIT and SCREAMS TOWARDS THE FANS, who SCREAM BACK just as HARD.

W.W.: I guess the apocalypse killed off all the good fighters living in our time so Lightning had to start pulling them out of different time periods.

J.R.: Caligula seems to have assembled quite a cast of characters who are good at one thing: killing. Titan doesn’t look like so much an athlete as he does a honest-to-goodness murderer.

Lightning: AND HIS OPPONENT, hailing from Martinsville, Virginia and weighing in at the COLLECTIVE 400 POUNDS … NICK AND AL SPARTAAAAAAAAAA!

From their gate emerges Alessandro Sparta wrapped in a brown cloak. On his back is Nick Sparta, who is unconscious (as J.R. explained above!). Al Sparta walks into the arena and sets his brother down in an area near the wall not covered in spikes.

W.W.: And a spectacularly boring entrance by the Sparta brothers!

CALIGULA RAISES HIS HAND and the MATCH BEGINS.

J.R.: And GLORIOUS TITAN is already ON THE OFFENSIVE!

TITAN rushes forward and immediately WHIPS OUT HIS BATTLE AXE. RAISING the MOTHERFUCKER ABOVE HIS HEAD, HE CLOSES IN ON ALESSANDRO SPARTA.

KACHING! THE AXE COMES DOWN AND IS FIRMLY BURIED IN THE DIRT. Titan looks up at SPARTA who is mere inches away, just standing there.

W.W.: How the fuck did he miss? Doesn’t he have DEPTH PERCEPTION?

TITAN pulls on his AXE but he can’t BRING IT OUT OF THE EARTH. His skin turns red and his MUSCLES BULGE but Glorious Titan’s EXTREME STRENGTH can lift his weapon. Titan is visibly confused as his opponent just stands there!

J.R.: Titan can’t seem to lift his own weapon!

W.W.: What kind of pussy shit is this?!

“You got a problem?” AL SPARTA says SMUGLY. TITAN STRAINS FUCKING HARDER, his EYES BULGING OUT OF HIS SKULL just to DEFIANTLY LIFT THAT BATTLE AXE. As it MOVES INCHES OFF THE GROUND, GLORIOUS TITAN’S ENTIRE BODY SHAKING, it SUDDENLY BECOMES LIGHT TO HIM and THE POWER HE’S EXERTING CAUSES HIM TO THROW IT BACKWARDS. The axe, of course, cuts a guy’s dick in half and pins his nutsack against the wall.

“What is this FOUL TRICKERY?!” TITAN stares at ALESSANDO SPARTA who runs his hands through his BLACK, WOPPY-looking hair. Titan STEPS FORWARD and finds his FEET SINKING INTO THE GROUND.

J.R.: I don’t get what’s going on! It doesn’t seem like Titan can stand under his own weight!

In desperation, Glorious Titan draws a knife from his BELT and HURLS IT AT ALESSANDRO SPARTA. Sparta merely MOVES HIS HEAD out of the way and the WEAPON CONTINUES SAILING PAST. However, the DAGGER continues until it LANDS GENTLY IN THE UNCONSCIOUS NICK SPARTA’S THIGH. Nick doesn’t respond, but ALESSANDRO responds as BLOOD begins to PEEK through his Fist of the North Star-villager pants!

J.R.: Wait, did Alessandro get hit?

TITAN stares at the BLOOD in DISBELIEF. HE RUSHES FORWARD and ATTEMPTS TO PUNCH but his ARM grows in WEIGHT and immediately FALLS TOWARDS THE GROUND. He tries swinging with his other arm but only achieves the same result.

The crowd begins booing as Titan falls onto all fours.

J.R.: I don’t get it. The black-haired Sparta hasn’t moved an inch and Titan looks like he’s going to pass out!

W.W.: Something odd is going, Jim. If you look closely, Al Sparta is sweating and breathing hard … panting even. And, like you said, he hasn’t moved.

Just as WARRIOR has noticed this, TITAN has as well. LIFTING HIS ARM, HE CLOSES HIS HAND with his THUMB JUTTING OUT. USING THE MAXIMUM OF HIS STRENGTH, HE JAMS HIS DAMN THUMB INTO ALESSANDRO’S LEG WOUND!

“GRKK!” SPARTA CRIES. IMMEDIATELY, THE MASSIVELY HEAVY HAND OF TITAN BEGINS TO DRAG DOWN THROUGH AL’S FLESH, RIPPING OPEN HIS LEG FURTHER. As TITAN’S THUMB heads towards SPARTA’S KNEE CAP, SPARTA is forced to STOP INCREASING the GRAVITY around before he’s injured further. YANKING HIS LEG BACKWARDS, Sparta STUMBLES as TITAN RISES TO HIS FEET, a GRIN FORMING ON HIS FACE.

W.W.: FINALLY, WE’RE GETTING SOMEWHERE.

“Damnit, he may have figured me out,” Al Sparta thinks to himself as he SLOWLY STAGGERS BACKWARDS, “I just need to focus and-URK!” TITAN IS ON TOP OF SPARTA, DRIVING A PALM INTO SPARTA’S FUCKING FACE. When Sparta INCREASES GRAVITY ON ONE OF HIS FISTS, HE GETS STRUCK WITH THE OTHER. HE GETS RANSACKED WITH A SERIES OF FISTS. Feeling his BONES CREAK with EACH BLOW, eventually AL SPARTA succumbs and drops to his knees.

“FINISH HIM!” THE CROWD BEGINS SHOUTING. CALIGULA CHEWS ON AN ORPHAN WITH A BEMUSED LOOK ON HIS FACE.

Glorious Titan abides and DRAWS HIS SWORD.

“Is this the best that this land can provide?” TITAN SNORTS. STEPPING FORWARD WITH HIS BLADE, HE STABS FORWARD. HOWEVER, DESPITE THE BLADE NOT STRAYING FROM ITS COURSE, ALESSANDRO IS SUDDENLY GONE!

W.W.: The fuck!

J.R.: H-He’s flying!

AL SPARTA REDUCES THE GRAVITY AROUND HIM SO HE CAN LEAP TO SAFETY. MOVING STRAIGHT UP, SPARTA LOOKS DOWN AT THE CONFUSED TITAN. MANIPULATING THE GRAVITY AGAIN, HE INCREASES HIS OWN WEIGHT AND DROPS LIKE A FUCKING ROCK TO DELIVER A GODDAMNED M. BISON STOMP!

J.R.: BAH GAWD, THAT HAD TO HAVE KILLED HIM!

BLOOD SQUIRTS FROM TITAN’S MANGLED FACE AS SMALL FISSURES OPEN UP IN THE GROUND AROUND HIS HEAD. Sparta, with one foot still on his head, leans over while trying to catch his breath. ALTHOUGH THE JUNGLE HEAT IS QUITE INTENSE, SPARTA IS SWEATING BUCKETS FROM USING HIS POWERS.

“Finally, I can rest …” Al Sparta mutters to himself. As he relinquishes the GRAVITY FIELD, TITAN BURSTS FROM THE GROUND SCREAMING BLOOD.

J.R.: TITAN’S STILL IN THIS!

AS SPARTA IS FLUNG INTO AIR from the FORCE of TITAN STANDING, TITAN GRABS HIS BY HIS LEGS AND VICIOUSLY POWERBOMBS HIM INTO THE GROUND. Blood SHOOTS UP out of Sparta’s throat and HE SINKS INTO UNCONSCIOUSNESS.

TITAN GRABS HIS SWORD AND RAISES IT ABOVE SPARTA’S HEAD, READY TO JAM IT IN HIS EYE.

THE SWORD DROPS INTO THE DIRT RIGHT BESIDE HIS HEAD AS DROPS OF BLOOD SPLATTER ON AL SPARTA’S FACE. THE CAMERA PANS UP TO REVEAL GLORIOUS TITAN IS FINGERLESS!

J.R.: BAH GAWD! WHAT JUST HAPPENED!

W.W.: THAT ASSHOLE IS AWAKE!

NICK SPARTA IS KNEELING IN THE CORNER, HIS HEAD COVERED IN BLOOD, WITH ONE ARM OUTSTRETCHED TOWARDS TITAN.

J.R.: What the hell just happened! And he’s bloody! What’s going on?!

TITAN LOOKS DOWN AT THE PILE OF HIS FINGERTIPS ON THE GROUND AND TURNS TO SPARTA FUCKING PISSED. GRABBING THE SWORD WITH HIS OTHER HEAD HE BEGINS MARCHING TOWARDS HIM. NICK SPARTA CREATES THIN FORCEFIELDS THAT FLY FORWARD AND SLASH OPEN TITAN’S FLESH. DESPITE THE ASSAULT OF INVISIBLE RAZORS, TITAN DOESN’T GIVE A SHIT AND KEEPS MOVING FORWARD.

“Shit …” Nick Sparta pants. He looks over to MANY OF THE PROTRUDING SPIKES on the STONE WALL OF THE GLADIATOR PIT. He SLOWLY SQUEEZES a FORCEFIELD INSIDE THE ACTUAL SPIKE BEFORE *EXPANDING* THAT SHIT, CAUSING THE SPIKE TO FUCKING LAUNCH FORWARD.

W.W.: WHOA!

TITAN TRUDGES FORWARD AS A STONE SPIKE BARELY GRAZES HIS ARM. SPARTA DOES THE SAME TO ANOTHER SPIKE THAT ROCKETS FORWARD AND MISSES. SOON, SPARTA IS DOING IT TO EVERY SPIKE IN THE VICINTIY AND TITAN WALKS FORWARD LIKE A BADASS LIKE IN THAT ONE SCENE IN FREDDY VS. JASON.

“I can’t keep this up much longer,” Sparta thinks. ANOTHER SPIKE ROCKETS FORWARD AND JAMS ITSELF INTO TITAN’S SHOULDER, PICKING HIM OFF THE GROUND SLIGHTLY. TITAN JUST CURSES BLOOD THROUGH CLENCHED TEETH AND CONTINUES FORWARD WITH STONE JUTTING FROM HIS ARM.

“FOR … GLOOORRYYY!” TITAN SCREAMS. MORE SPIKES SHOOT FORWARD AND SLAM INTO TITAN’S BODY, CAUSING MORE BLOOD TO SHOOT OUT OF HIS FACIAL ORIFICES. AS MORE SPIKES FLY FORWARD, TITAN SWATS THEM AWAY WITH HIS SWORD.

J.R.: TITAN IS CLOSING IN!

NICK SPARTA SLAMS HIS HAND INTO THE WALL BEHIND, LAUNCHING A BRICK FROM THE WALL. THE BRICK CRASHES INTO TITAN’S SWORD AND KNOCKS IT AWAY for like the EIGHTH TIME. WITH INCHES BETWEEN THEN, GLORIOUS TITAN RAISES HIS LEG IN FRONT OF HIM. HE BEGINS FLEXING THE FUCK OUT AND STARTS SCREAMING WHILE STANDING ON ONE LEG.

“FRONT KICK OF GLORY!!” GLORIOUS TITAN SCREAMS. THE FOOT COLLIDES WITH NICK SPARTA’S GUT AND THE WALL BEHIND SPARTA INSTANTLY COLLAPSES, SPILLING FANS INTO THE PIT.

J.R.: FRONT KICK OF GLORY!!

As guards begin murdering the fans that accidentally fell into the arena, SPARTA FALLS TO HIS KNEES. CALIGULA RAISES HIS HAND, READY TO MAKE HIS DECISION.

“Something’s wrong …” Titan mutters to himself, noticing that his opponent didn’t explode from his FINISHING MANEUVER. As Titan CONTEMPLATES THIS MYSTERY, he notices that HE AND NICK SPARTA begin FLOATING INTO THE AIR.

W.W.: They’re in the air again!

TITAN LOOKS AT THE GROUND, CONFUSED, AND TURNS TO SEE NICK SPARTA UNCONSCIOUS! NOW TEN FEET OFF THE GROUND, HE SEES AL SPARTA AWAKE ONCE AGAIN, LYING ON THE GROUND WITH ONE HAND OUTSTRETCHED.

“BY MARS, WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!” TITAN STRUGGLES.

“That’s … all I have …” AL SPARTA SLUMPS BACK DOWN, LIFELESSLY. INSTANTLY, NICK EYES SNAP OPEN as HE’S HOVERING SLIGHTLY OVER TITAN.

“TAKE THIS!!” NICK OUTSTRETCHES HIS HAND. WITH ONE POWERFUL THRUST, HE CREATES A FUCKING FORCESHIELD THAT SLAMS TITAN INTO THE GROUND AT LIKE 80 MILES PER HOUR. THE GROUND CAVES IN IN THE SHAPE OF A FIST LIKE AT THE END OF KUNG FU HUSTLE! TITAN HAS BEEN DEFEATED!

J.R.: BAH GAWD! IT’S OVER!

Caligula Lightning CLAPS HIS HANDS TOGETHER ONCE and LAUGHS. RAISING HIS HAND, HE DECLARES THE MATCH OVER.

Lightning: AND YOU’RE VICTOR … NICK AND AL SPARTAAAAAAAAA!!

J.R.: TWO MORE ADDED TO THE CHARIOT RACE!

W.W.: Fuck those faggots!
Vinny
[00:10] How can you get an erect dick into your own ass?
Joined: 16 Jan 2007
Posts: 5181
(Mon Mar 19, 2007 10:59 pm)
Reply

Post     Re: CALIGULA LIGHTNING'S ABHORRENT ANATHEMA! (#21)

W.W.: Jim, I’m getting fucking excited for the next match as God, and by God I mean the one God Emperor Caligula Lightning, has given me another chance at seeing Kanzaki Kenjiro fucking die. And hey, at the hands of a TRUE AMERICAN. If only I had hadn’t had my tear ducts welded shut when the ravenous pollacks from the Domain of Other Minorities had captured me …

J.R.: To be honest, I’m just happy to see the light of day, Warrior, so a good ol’ fashion slobber knocker is merely a bonus!

Trumpets sound as burly guys lift the west gate to the gladiator pit of the Murderena. Caligula Lightning finishes the eighth course of his meal while more heathens are caramelized in the bowels of the coliseum.

“That one looks scrawny. I’m not sure he can hold my attention …” Caligula Lightning licks his fingers after eating a bowl full of fingers.

Kanzaki Kenjiro, clad in his white jacket and pants, his tattered cap obscuring his piercing eyes, steps into the arena. With his hands in his pockets, he turns his head to the V.I.P. box and sees the portly Caligula on his throne.

Lightning: And coming to the pit first, hailing from TOKYO, JAPAN and weighing in at 230 POUNDS … KANZAAAAAKI KENJIROOOOOO!

J.R.: I remember Kanzaki Kenjiro when he fought three years ago. I’m glad to see he’s still alive.

W.W.: Pft, whatever Jim. That’s only because he was a HUGE PUSSY and quit the FTUW and let his even more faggoty friend take his place.

The fans EXPLODE into SCREAMS, which are the catch-all EXCLAMATION for all emotion in this post-apocalyptic world. Some fans confuse him as one of the traitorous servants of the Chinese Kombo King and begin throwing garbage at him.

Lightning: And his opponent … HAILING from CLARKSBURG, WEST VIRGINIA and weighing 245 POUUUUNDS … SUUUPER AGENT HARRY UUUUUNDERWOOOOD!!

W.W.: I’d salute if my hands weren’t chained together.

J.R.: We don’t know much about this guy! He must be strong if he got a golden ticket for this event but all the info we have on him is that he worked for the U.S. government. Very mysterious!

The gate is lifted and out from the SHADOWS steps out a 6’5” man in BLACK COMBAT FATIGUES, dirt rubbed over his face and through his BLONDE HAIR. He is armed with two pistols despite the rarity of firearms in post-apocalyptic America, a combat knife, and some other shit. His skin is also covered in SCARS from BEAR CLAW ATTACKS.

Also, he’s wearing a BEAR HEAD as a helmet.

CALIGULA RISES UP FROM HIS THRONE and WALKS TO THE EDGE OF HIS BALCONY. Looking over his CROWD, HE RAISES HIS ARM, and then GIVE THE THUMBS DOWN!

J.R.: What! He’s not allowing the match go ahead?!

“Murder fans … I am SORRY to say this potential MATCH UP BORES ME,” Caligula announces. The crowd starts muttering to itself, CONFUSED at what’s proceeding.

W.W.: Bored? This fucking Jap is going to get gutted!

J.R.: Then what will happen?! Will they both be KILLED?

“To expedite the combat and to MAXIMIZE the MURDER ENTERTAINMENT, I have an idea,” Caligula licks his lips. “The next match will no longer be one on one … BUT RATHER A FOUR WAY FREE-FOR-ALL!”

THE CROWD EXPLODES.

J.R.: A FREE-FOR-ALL, but who are the OTHER TWO?!

W.W.: YEAAAH, CALIGULA, YOU’RE ALWAYS RIGHT!

“The competitors of the 6th match will be BROUGHT IN NOW. GIVE A HAND FOR THE FUTURE WARRIORS WHO WILL BATTLE IN THIS ABSURD SPECTACLE FOR YOUR ENJOYMENT!”

Lightning: AND COMING TO THE RING NEXT … FROM MISSOULA, MINNESOTA and WEIGHING 385 POUUUUNDS ... CORPORAAAAL BODY!

W.W.: Another PROUD MEMBER of the FORMER AMERICA’S MILITARY.

Out from BEHIND KANZAKI KENJIRO appears a TITAN OF MAN despite almost everybody competing tonight qualifies as a TITAN. He is STOUT and IMPOSSIBLY THICK, an ARMOR of MUSCLES bulging over the entirety of his BODY. He is SHIRTLESS with DIRTY and BLOODY CAMO PANTS. Also, his face seems permanently stuck in a WIDE-EYED, RAGE-RAPT EXPRESSION.

J.R.: I’ve seen plenty of killers in my profession but I can tell that man was solely created by God to murder.

Kanzaki Kenjiro slowly distances himself from Corporal Body, placing himself evenly between him and Underwood.

Lightning: AND FINALLY … FROM THE FORMER SAN FRANCISCO and WEIGHING 167 POUNDS … DWAAAAYNE GUAAAN!

W.W.: Wait … GUAN?! Even in my TESTERONE-ADDLED MIND I can’t forget that FUCKING CHINK FAG’S NAME.

J.R.: That is DWAYNE GUAN, one of the many ILLEGITIMATE CHILDREN of Guan Fei!

DWAYNE GUAN, A SLENDER AND TONED HALF-WHITE CHINESE, APPEARS BEHIND UNDERWOOD. His hair is RAVEN-BLACK and SLICKED BACK DOWN TO HIS SHOULDER BLADES, his BEARD is LARGE and SCRUFFY although it is lacking in COMPARISON TO HIS FATHER’S FEARSOME FOLLICLES.

J.R.: If he’s anything like his father I’m sure we’re in for a show!

DWAYNE GENTLY WALKS FORWARD, LEAVING BEHIND HIM A HEAT BLURRY AURA OF INTENSE FEROCITY. HE STANDS RELAXED, WITH HIS HANDS OPEN AT HIS SIDES, AND WITH AN INTENSE SMILE ON HIS LIPS.

W.W.: EAST VS. WEST! CHINKS VS. HANDSOME AMERICANS! I can’t wait, Jim!

J.R.: I wouldn’t say Kenjiro and Guan are aligned, Warrior. Take a look!

DWAYNE GUAN HAS HIS ARM OUSTRETCHED, POINTING A FINGER STRAIGHT AT KENJIRO.

“KENJIROOO …” THE SINISTER GUAN MUTTERS, HIS EYES PALE WHITE AND PUPILESS.

J.R.: I wonder what reason Guan would have to single out Kenjiro!

Caligula Lightning sits back down in his throne and grabs his chalice. Suddenly, a guard enters the V.I.P. box and kneels before him.

“The gift from Baron Hoity von Toity has arrived,” the guard says. In rolls a cage filled orphan children with a thank you note from Toity taped on one of the bars.

CALIGULA SMILES and RAISES HIS HAND. THE MATCH HAS BEGUN!

J.R.: IT’S BEGUN, FOLKS!

IMMEDIATELY CORPORAL BODY and SUPER AGENT HARRY UNDERWOOD SPRING FORWARD AND MAKE A BEELINE TOWARDS KANZAKI KENJIRO. As the TWO HURL SHITFUCKING STRAIGHTS, KENJIRO CREATES A VACUUM in front of him THAT LEADS THEIR FIST HARMLESSLY PAST HIM AND INTO HIS OPPONENT’S FACES.

J.R.: This crop of superstars seems more magical than the ones three years ago.

W.W.: It’s probably all the radiation.

Kenjiro slides backwards through the SAND after dodging the ATTACK. AS THE MASSIVE BODY MAINTAINS HIS RAGE FACE despite a FIST BURIED IN IT, UNDERWOOD’S KNEES GROW WEAK and he kneels down in the dirt. Underwood ROLLS BACKWARDS and whips out his DESERT EAGLE. TAKING AIM, he FIRES ON THE APPROACHING BODY and FIRES THREE BULLETS INTO HIS CHEST.

BODY TAKES THE BULLETS IN HIS MID-90’S COMIC BOOK-SIZED CHEST AND MERELY STANDS THERE. THE BULLETS PENETRATE THE SKIN BUT NO BLOOD EXITS THE WOUND.

W.W.: Body wouldn’t be here if all it took was a few armor-piercing bullets to take him down!

J.R.: Right you are, Warrior! Underwood better get a new plan!

SUPER AGENT HARRY UNDERWOOD EMPTIES HIS CLIP BUT DOES LITTLE TO SLOW THE CORPORAL. WITH MORE INSANE ANGER BUILDING IN BODY’S BODY, HE PICKS UP SPEED. AS BODY STARTS SPRINTING, UNDERWOOD CAN FEEL HIS THUNDEROUS FOOTSTEPS. WITH BODY BARRELING TOWARDS HIM, HE TOSSES AWAY HIS GUN AND WHIPS OUT HIS KNIFE.

BOOOOM! UNDERWOOD IS LIFTED CLEAR OFF THE GROUND AS CORPORAL BODY JUGGERNAUTS ONTO HIM. LIKE A FLY SLAMMING INTO A WINDSHIELD, UNDERWOOD CLINGS TO THE RAMPAGING BODY AS HE CONTINUES HIS CHARGE.

W.W.: I like your fucking enthusiasm, guys, but there’s two perfectly good SUBHUMANS you could slaughter!

J.R.: Yeah, Kenjiro and Dwayne Guan are just standing there! Was the previous animosity all a ploy?

Kenjiro lifts the brim of his cap and looks toward Dwayne Guan. Dwayne Guan is still standing there, an INTENSE AURA distorting his surroundings. With his eyes rolled in the back of his hand, DWAYNE GUAN sits down on the ground and BEGINS TO MEDITATE!

W.W.: BRRRLRT! KILL THAT FUCKING FAGGOT!

J.R.: I don’t get it! What is he planning?!

W.W.: SOMEONE TELL CALIGULA THAT HE’S PRAYING TO SOMEONE ELSE.

HARRY UNDERWOOD BEGINS VICIOUSLY STABBING THE SHIT OUT OF CORPORAL BODY’S HUMONGOUS SHOULDERS BUT BARELY GETS THE BLADE IN AN INCH! THE CORPORAL SHIFTS TO THE RIGHT AND BEGINS SLAMMING HARRY INTO THE ARENA WALL. STONE AND SPIKES FLY AS BODY GRINDS BOTH HIMSELF AND UNDERWOOD ALONG THE WALL, SANDING THE SHIT OUT OF IT WITH THEIR TORSOS.

J.R.: BODY IS DOMINATING! UNDERWOOD COULD BE DEAD VERY SOON.

WITH BOTH THE CORPORAL AND HARRY’S BODY FILLED WITH STONE SPIKES FROM THE WALL, UNDERWOOD REACHES INTO HIS HOLSTER FOR HIS OTHER GUN. WEAKLY RAISING HIS ARM, HE PLACES THE BARREL ONTO THE TEMPLE OF BODY’S SKULL AND FIRES!

J.R.: BAH GAWD! HE’S KILLED HIM!

BLOOD SQUIRTS INTO THE AIR AND BODY COLLAPSES, HIS CORPSE GLIDING THROUGH THE SAND FOR SEVERAL YARDS UNTIL SLOWING TO A STOP. Underwood lifts himself off the ground, spits out a gob of blood, and begins YANKING OUT the STONE SPIKES FROM HIS TORSO. The crowd EXPLODES INTO CHEERS at the FIRST COMBATANT DEATH of the EVENING.

J.R.: And then there was three!

Underwood cracks his neck and turns his head to SEE KENJIRO standing behind him motionless, with his hands in pockets looking like a BADASS.

“You want some too, pencil dick?” Underwood smirks. Kenjiro doesn’t move.

W.W.: KILL THAT SLANTED TWAT!

Underwood WHIPS HIS PISTOL UPWARD AND TAKES AIM ONLY TO FIND IT FLYING FROM HIS HANDS. FOLLOWING THE VACUUM PATH KENJIRO CREATED, THE PISTOL SNAPS INTO KENJIRO’S HAND. STUNNED, UNDERWOOD CAN’T REACT IN TIME TO DODGE KENJIRO FIRING INTO HIS KNEE CAPS!

“FUCK!!” UNDERWOOD FALLS DOWN IN A HEAP, BLOOD SQUIRTING FROM HIS KNEES. KENJIRO TOSSES THE SMOKING GUN BEHIND HIM, ONE HAND STILL IN HIS POCKET.

W.W.: Goddamnit!

J.R.: And now Kenjiro has blown away both of Underwood’s knee caps! I don’t want to count Underwood out this early, but it’s hard to recover from that.

“You f-fucking slant …” Underwood shakes as blood pools under his knees.

“Give it up, or I’ll kill you …” Kenjiro utters coldly.

“I’d never let a faggot like you kill me,” Underwood smiles as a shaking hand reaches for his knife buried in the dirt beside him. Kenjiro watches as Underwood’s hand slowly grips the blade. Grapping it, UNDERWOOD yanks from the DIRT and POINTS IT KENJIRO.

“I’ll see you in Hell …” Harry Underwood smiles before grabbing the blade with BOTH HANDS and SLICING OPEN HIS OWN FUCKING HEART!

W.W.: WHAT THE HOLY FUCKNAMF!!

J.R.: BAH GAWD!! BAH GAWD!! UNDERWOOD HAS KILLED HIMSELF!

Kenjiro’s eyes widen as BLOOD SQUIRTS onto his face. UNDERWOOD drops the knife and takes a HAND OFF HIS THROAT and begins WRITING ON HIS CHEST. “F U C K Y O U” is what he SCRAWLS. Then, HARRY UNDERWOOD slumps backwards into the dirt.

W.W.: THIS IS … FUCK FUCK FUCK!

J.R.: I CAN’T BELIEVE MY EYES, SEX SLAVES AND GENTLEMAN! NOW WE HAVE TWO!

CALIGULA CHEWS ON A LEG and mutters “EXQUISITE …” while chuckling retardedly.

Kenjiro watches stunned for a second before turning towards Dwayne Guan, his last opponent. Dwayne Guan is still meditating, HIS AURA FLOWING LIKE CRAZY. With nothing less to do, KENJIRO reaches down for UNDERWOOD’S DISCARDED PISTOL AND TAKES AIM.

J.R.: IS THIS GOING TO BE THE END? KENJIRO WILL FINISH OFF DWAYNE GUAN WITH A SINGLE SHOT?

POW! THE BULLET FLIES THROUGH THE AIR AND BURIES ITSELF INTO THE WALL BESIDE DWAYNE GUAN’S HEAD. PANNING BACK TO KENJIRO WE SEE MOTHERFUCKING HARRY UNDERWOOD STRANGLING HIM WITH GARROTE WIRE!!

W.W.: ASNDJLAN!!

J.R.: HE’S ALIVE?!

ZOOMING ONTO UNDERWOOD’S THROAT WE SEE THAT THERE’S NO SLASHJ AT ALL!

“YOU THINK I WAS DEAD YOU LITTLE GOOK SON OF A BITCH?!” UNDERWOOD PULLS TIGHTER, THE WIRE DIGGING INTO KENJIRO’S NECK. “AND THEY SAY CHINKS ARE SMART, HEH HEH. I MERELY CUT MY HAND OPEN …”

Some sort of grainy flashback shows the knife clenched in BOTH of Underwood’s hands, one ON THE BLADE. It zooms in to show that the BLADE was facing AWAY from the neck when he DRAGGED IT ACROSS HIS NECK. Whoa!

W.W.: That explains it! KILL HIM MOTHERFUCKING HARRY UNDERWOOOD!

BLOOD VESSELS IN KENJIRO’S EYES BEGIN TO BURST AS THE WIRE DIGS FURTHER INTO HIS THROAT. UNDERWOOD IS SNICKERING HE PLACES A FOOT ONTO KENJIRO’S BACK TO EXPEDITE THE PROCESS.

“D-Damnit …” Kenjiro thinks. “He’s going … to … kill … me …”

WITH ONLY ONE LEG OF UNDERWOOD’S ON THE GROUND, KENJIRO LIFTS THE BACK OF HIS FOOT AND JAMS IT INTO HARRY”S GODDAMNED KNEE. BLOOD SPLASHES BUT HARRY DOESN’T FUCKING BUDGE. KENJIRO SLAMS HIS FOOT INTO HIS BULLET-FILLED KNEECAP OVER AND OVER BUT HARRY DOESN’T RELEASE!

“YOU’RE GOING TO HAVE TO TRY BETTER THAN THAT, ASSHOLE!” UNDERWOOD’S EYES NEARLY FLY OUT OF HIS SKULL FROM THE INTENSE PAIN HE’S IN.

WITH BLOOD BEGINNING TO TRICKLE OUT OF HIS EARS, KENJIRO KICKS HIS SHOE OFF AND JAMS HIS GODDAMNED SHITFUCKING BIG TOE INTO THE BULLET WOUND!

W.W.: OHHH YEAAAAAH!!

FOAM STARTS SQUIRTING OUT OF UNDERWOOD’S MOUTH AS KENJIRO TOEFUCKS HIS GODDAMNED KNEE NERVES. HOWEVER, HARRY UNDERWOOD STILL WON’T LET GO OF THE GARROTE WIRE!

J.R.: HE CAN’T TAKE MUCH MORE! KENJIRO IS GOING TO GODDAMN DIE!

KENJIRO FUCKING SCREAMS A GARGLED SCREAM OF HATE AND YANKS HIS TOE FROM THE HOLE. CREATING A VACUUM ON THE TIP OF HIS BIG TOE, HE YANKS OUT NOT ONLY THE BULLET BUT THE FRAGMENTS OF UNDERWOOD’S FUCKING KNEE CAP. IMMEDIATELY UNDERWOOD FALLS TO THE GROUND, RELEASING THE WIRE!

J.R.: BAH GAAAWD!!

“HEEECKK!!” KENJIRO SUCKS IN AIR, HIS THROAT FEELING LIKE IT’S ON FIRE. Underwood has now passed out from the pain of having his knee cap squeezed out of his leg like a GIANT SHIT. Kenjiro staggers to his feet and turns to Dwayne Guan, who is STILL MEDITATING.

However, just as Kenjiro is recovering, he feels a LOW RUMBLE under his feet. Looking to the right, HE SEES THE BEHEMOTH CORPORAL BODY DIGGING HIS FINGERS INTO THE WALL, DESPERATELY TRYING TO PULL HIMSELF UP.

“What a fucking pain …” Kenjiro spits blood.

J.R.: CORPORAL BODY IS STILL ALIVE? HE GOT SHOT IN THE FUCKING HEAD!

W.W.: YES YES FUCK YEAH YES!!

CORPORAL BODY, DROOLING NOW FROM HAVING HIS LEFT LOBE ROCKED, USES THE WALL TO STEADY HIMSELF. TAKING A FAT, SAUSAGE FINGER, HE BEGINS DIGGING INTO THE BULLET WOUND. CAREFULLY, BODY EXTRACTS THE BULLET JAMMED IN HIS SKULL AND FLICKS IT TO THE GROUND. WITH SURGERY COMPLETE, HE TURNS HIS SIGHTS TOWARDS KANZAKI KENJIRO.

IMMEDIATELY HE GRIPS THE STONE WALL AND HURLS THE FUCKING THING AT KENJIRO. WITH THE WALL COMING STRAIGHT TOWARDS HIM, KENJIRO SLAMS A PALM INTO THE BRICK AND YANKS IT AWAY, EXPLODING IT INTO A MESS OF BRICKS THAT HARMLESSLY PASS HIM!

“Hahh … hahh …” Kenjiro grips his bleeding hand. However, BODY ISN’T DONE YET. HE GRABS ONE FAN BY THE HEAD AND BRINGS HIM DOWN INTO THE ARENA.

J.R.: Poor guy.

W.W.: That’s why the front row seats are so cheap, Jim.

BODY TAKES HIS FUCKING MONSTER HANDS AND BEGINS CRUSHING THE SHIT OUT OF THE FAN. THE DYING MAN SCREAMS, HIS BRAINS SQUIRTING LIKE TOOTHPASTE OUT OF HIS EARS AND HIS ASS SHITTING BONES, AS BODY CRUMPLES HIM UP. SLAMMING HIS HANDS INTO THE FLESH, BODY PACKS THE FUCKING FAN INTO A LARGE BALL. TAKING IT, HE CHARGES TOWARD KENJIRO, DRIBBLING THAT SHIT ON THE GROUND LIKE A BASKETBALL!

J.R.: BAH GAWD! BAH GAWD!

W.W.: AMERICAN INGENUITY, J.R.!

CORPORAL BODY LEAPS INTO THE FUCKING AIR AND HURLS THE BODY BALL TOWARDS KENJIRO. BEFORE IT HITS KENJIRO, KENJIRO PLACES HIS PALMS ON IT AND CREATES A VACUUM. HOWEVER, THE FUCKING BALL IS TOO TIGHTLY-PACKED TO EXPLODE SO THE THING SLAMS INTO HIS STERNUM, KNOCKING HIM INTO A WALL!

“GURKK!” Kenjiro chokes up blood. He weakly looks up to see CORPORAL BODY taking some of the STONE SPIKES broken off from the wall and JAMMING IT INTO THE CORPSE BALL, CREATING A SPIKED CORPSE BALL!

“HURRRRGG!!” CORPORAL BODY ROLLS THE FUCKING THING LIKE A BOWLING BALL. AS IT BOUNCES TOWARDS KENJIRO, KENJIRO SLAMS HIS HANDS IN DESPERATION INTO THE DIRT. WHEN HE ROLLS BACKWARDS, THE DIRT EXPLODES UPWARDS AND KNOCKS THE SPIKE BALL INTO THE AIR. THE SPIKE BALL THEN STEAMROLLS OVER A ROW OF FANS, DELIVERING UNTO THEM HORRIFYING DEATHS!

W.W.: DAMNIT BODY, YOU AREN’T KILLING HARD ENOUGH!

“I have to defeat him now … it’s my only chance!” KENJIRO RUSHES FORWARD, HIS COOL JACKET BLOWING IN THE WIND. BODY RESPONDS BY SPINNING ON HIS HEELS, DOING A TITANTIC SPINNING LARIAT! AS THE TORNADO OF MUSCLE AND KENJIRO CLOSE IN, KENJIRO HITS THE DIRT AND SLIDES UNDERNEATH HIS LEGS!

”NOW!!” KENJIRO SHOUTS. AS CORPORAL BODY TURNS AROUND, KENJIRO UNLEASHES A FLURRY OF KICKS!

J.R.: ETERNAL LOOOOP!!

“ATATATATATAAAA!” KENJIRO NEARLY SHATTERS HIS FOOT STRIKING BODY’S RIPPLING, UH, BODY. AS THE CORPORAL VIBRATES FROM THE MACH ATTACK, KENJIRO THEN SWITCHES TO PUNCHES! KENJIRO IS ROCKING THE SHIT OUT OF HIM!

“ORAORAORAORAORA!” KENJIRO HOWLS. AFTER THE 100TH PUNCH, HIS FIST BREAKS. HE STOPS THE ATTACK AND COLLAPSES ONTO HIS KNEES. THAT’S ALL HE HAD!

J.R.: DID IT WORK?!

KENJIRO STARES UP AT BODY WHO STANDS THERE LIKE A STATUE. BRUISES AND WELTS ALL OVER HIS BODY, THE CORPORAL’S FACE TWISTS IN RAGE EVEN HARDER AND SWINGS HIS FISTS TOWARDS KENJIRO’S EARS. KENJIRO MANAGES TO RAISE HIS HANDS IN TIME TO BLOCK THEM BUT THE SHEER STRENGTH OF THE ATTACK NEARLY CRACKS HIS SKULL!

W.W.: HAAAAM FIIISST!!

KENJIRO’S EYES DRIFT FROM SIDE TO SIDE AS HE FALLS TO HIS KNEES. HE HAS NOTHING LEFT!

AS THE CORPORAL RAISES HIS HANDS ABOVE KENJIRO’S HEAD, READY TO AXE HAMMER HIM TO HELL, HARRY FUCKING UNDERWOOD SPRINGS TO LIFE ONCE MORE.

J.R.: BAAAH GAWD!

HE LEAPS ONTO BODY’S BACK AND PRESSES HIS LIPS AGAINST THE BULLET HOLE IN HIS HEAD. WITH HIS LUNGS FULL, HE EXPELS AIR INTO HIS FUCKING SKULL UNTIL ONE OF BODY’S GODDAMNED EYES POP OUT OF HIS SKULL. SOON, BLOOD STARTS POURING FROM BODY’S NOSE, EYE SOCKET, EARS, AND MOUTH. THE CORPORAL FALLS IN A HEAP, POSSIBLY DEAD!

“YOU SLANT … WE’RE NOT DONE YET!” UNDERWOOD RASPS. He yanks the KNIFE he jammed into BODY’S BODY earlier and STAGGERS TOWARDS HIM. The exhausted Kenjiro hazily crawls backwards, turning his head to the left in a STUPOR. HIS EYES FLOAT UP FROM THE GROUND and he sees DWAYNE GUAN STANDING UP, HIS MEDITATION COMPLETE.

J.R.: WHAT?! DWAYNE GUAN IS DONE! IS HE GOING TO ENTER THE FRAY!

Kenjiro climbs to his feet as UNDERWOOD DRAGS HIS INJURED LEG BEHIND HIM. DWAYNE GUAN BEGINS FLEXING THE FUCK OUT, VEINS POPPING UP EVERYWHERE AS THE PUPILS RETURN TO HIS EYES.

“KENJIROOOOOOO …” DWAYNE GUAN SCREAMS “I’LL ERASE EVERY LAST TRACE OF THE FTUW FROM THIS WORLD!”

“Shit …” Kenjiro mutters.

J.R.: IS HE GOING TO … HE IS!

“JAAAADE SPEAAAAAAAR!!” DWAYNE GUAN SCREAMS AS HE FUCKING FLIES FORWARD, DIRT EXPLODING FROM BEHIND HIS FEET AS HE FLIES LIKE A ROCKET TOWARDS KENJIRO.

W.W.: GUAN FEI’S SIGNATURE ATTACK! HE’S GOING TO USE IT ALREADY?!

“YAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!” GUAN SPINS LIKE A FUCKING PSYCHO CRUSHER AS KENJIRO IS FROZEN IN HIS TRACKS. IN DESPERATION, KENJIRO PULLS BACK HIS FIST AND LAUNCHES A BLINDING RIGHT. THE FIST CONNECTS WITH DWAYNE GUAN’S FACE …

AND DWAYNE GUAN EXPLODES!!

W.W.: IASDGBLG:AHGFGHAL:GH!!

J.R.: BAAAAAAAAHFABB:SA!!

DWAYNE GUAN CHUNKS SHOWER KENJIRO AND PASS HIM, SHOWERING HIM IN BLOOD. HIS ENTIRE EXPLODED BODY SLAMS INTO A WALL AND HIS DETACHED ASSHOLE SPINS IN THE AIR, SHITTING ALL OVER THE PLACE. DWAYNE GUAN IS FUCKING DEAD!!

W.W.: I … uh … FUCK YEAAAAAAH!!

THE CROWD EXPLODES INTO A FRENZY. KENJIRO LOOKS AT HIS HAND IN CONFUSION.

J.R.: DWAYNE GUAN IS DEAD. SHIT.

Kenjiro and Harry Underwood stare at each other for a moment before BEATING THE SHIT OUT OF ONE ANOTHER.

J.R.: AND THE FINAL TWO, AND I’M GODDAMNED CERTAIN THIS TIME, ARE GOING AT IT!

UPPERCUT! ELBOW! HOOK! The two men savagely BEAT THE SHIT out of each other in the center of the arena much to the FANS’ DELIGHT.

“ASSHOLE!” UNDERWOOD STABS KENJIRO IN THE SHOULDER. KENJIRO ROUNDHOUSE KICKS HIM IN RESPONSE.

“Bastard!” Kenjiro says through CLENCHED TEETH, CLOTHESLING UNDERWOOD. UNDERWOOD GRABS THE ARM AND VICIOUSLY DDTS THEM.

As KENJIRO PUSHES HIMSELF UP he gets UPPERCUTTED to his FEET. Feeling HIMSELF DETACHING from CONSCIOUSNESS, KENJIRO FLOWS KI INTO HIS HAND.

“He won’t give up …” KENJIRO thinks, “I SO HAVE TO KILL HIM.” KENJIRO BLOCKS UNDERWOOD’S ASSAULT WHILE SPINNING THE KI IN THE PALM OF HIS HAND.

“WITH A SHOT TO THE HEART!” KENJIRO THINKS. HE RUSHES FORWARD WITH AN OPEN PALM. SEEING HIM COMING, UNDERWOOD FLEXES HIS TORN OPEN LEG AND BLOOD *EJACULATES* FROM HIS EXPLODED KNEE. THE BLOOD HITS KENJIRO IN HIS EYES AND THE PALM MISSES IT TARGET, STRIKING HIS GUT.

BOOOM! AFTER KENJIRO PULLS HIS FIST BACK, BLOOD SPRAYS INTO THE FUCKING AIR AND UNDERWOOD IS HURLED BACKWARDS.

J.R.: BAH GAWD! I THINK HE KILLED HIM!

W.W.: NO NO NO NO!!

Kenjiro collapses as Underwood lies on the ground, choking on his own blood.

CALIGULA RAISES HIS HAND TO SIGNIFY THE END OF THE MATCH!

Lightning: AND YOU’RE WINNER … KENJI-

“WAIT!”

J.R.: WHAT?!

“It’s not over,” CALIGULA GRINS, POINTING A BLOODY FINGER TOWARDS UNDERWOOD. UNDERWOOD IS FUCKING CONVULSING ON THE GROUND AS A HORRIFIC AURA SURROUNDS HIM.

J.R.: WHAT IN GOD’S NAME IS GOING ON?!

“BEAR SPIRITS … AID MEEEEE!!” UNDERWOOD HOWLS. THE GHOSTS OF BEARS BEGIN FLYING INTO UNDERWOOD’S CHEST AS KENJIRO WATCHES ON HOPELESSLY. THE FUCKING BEAR HEAD HELMET BEGINS TO GROW AROUND UNDERWOOD’S FACE UNTIL COVERING IT COMPLETELY.

W.W.: HE’S TURNING INTO A MONSTER!

UNDERWOOD STANDS STRAIGHT UP IN FRONT OF THE FALLEN KENJIRO WITH A FUCKING BEAR HEAD FOR A HEAD.

“DAMN IT …” KENJIRO SPRINTS FORWARD AND BRINGS HIS HAND DOWN TO HIS SIDE.

“THIS IS IT! FEEEEELING OVEEEERRRR!!” KENJIRO SCREAMS … BUT IT DOESN’T COME! HE NO LONGER HAS THE STRENGTH.

“BEAAAAAAAR HUUUUUG!” THE LIVING BEAR HEAD SCREAMS. UNDERWOOD’S ARMS CLOSE AROUND KENJIRO’S BODY. WITH A VIOLENT SQUEEZE, KENJIRO LOSES CONSCIOUSNESS. BEFORE HE CAN DELIVER THE FINISHING BLOW, HOWEVER, THE BEAR SPIRITS LEAVE HIM AND UNDERWOOD DROPS TO HIS KNEES.

CALIGULA RAISES HIS ARM. THE MATCH IS OVER!

Lightning: AND YOUR WINNER … HARRY UNDERRRRWOOOOOD!!
Vinny
[00:10] How can you get an erect dick into your own ass?
Joined: 16 Jan 2007
Posts: 5181
(Wed Mar 21, 2007 7:14 pm)
Reply

Post     Re: CALIGULA LIGHTNING'S ABHORRENT ANATHEMA! (#21)

Lighting: Ladies and gentleman, we’ll be taking a short intermission before the main event: THE CALIGULA LIGHTNING CHARIOT RACE!

The crowd explodes. Yadda yadda yadda.

*****

Elsewhere, in the bowels of the MURDERENA lies the defeated superstars of tonight’s event (except Dwayne Guan whose remains are being shit on by wild dogs). Glorious Titan, Corporal Body, Kanzaki Kenjiro, the Illusionist, Doolittle, and Axelrod all rest here. They are in various states of injury, their wounds getting no treatment in this dank donkey dungeon.

Suddenly, the walls begin to TREMBLE as something, some CREATURE, approaches. The door creaks open slowly and the fallen superstars are treated to a sight of Caligula Lightning’s HUGE GUT poking through the entrance. He then steps forward, tearing through the stone wall, his head grinding against the ceiling.

“Valiant efforts, men, but there really is no place for the weak in my empire,” Caligula grins. The superstars are stunned by these words. They consider fighting back but are too exhausted to even sit up. Regardless, no one attains the power of Caligula Lightning has in New America with diplomacy. He did it with his fists.

“You gentlemen are in for a treat. I have just purged the feast I’ve consumed tonight so that my men can bottle up the partially digested life and drink that elixir to harden them for battle. That being said, which one of you would like to become stew in Caligula Lightning’s belly?” he chuckles.

He waves his finger in the air, pointing from bloody combatant to combatant until stopping on one: the Illusionist. The Illusionist immediately flailing and whimpering as Caligula plucks him from the ground by his cloak.

“Your skin looks soft, your muscles tender and unused to battle, it seems …” Caligula licks his lips. “Delectable.”

“P-P-Please don’t kill me, Emperor Lightning!” Illusionist pleads, “If I die, who will take care of the Dilettante?”

“Such trivial domestic matters do not concern me,” Caligula lifts his above his maw, “Silence your cries of anguish as it might disturb my digestion.”

“P-PLEASE CALIGULA … HAVE A HEART!” the Illusionist whips his hands forward and, FROM OUT OF NOWHERE, a HUMAN HEART APPEARS IN HIS GLOVED HAND. Caligula LOOKS PUZZLED when he sees the heart then CAREFULLY picks it up as flicks it into his gaping mouth as if it were a peanut. After chewing it for a few seconds, his DEADLY GLARE returns momentarily before BURSTING into LAUGHTER. The Illusionist tries to restrain his pee.

“HA HA HA!” Caligula’s voice booms! “Interesting, very interesting! I can feel the numerous funny bones resting on the bottom of my stomach trembling from your pun! All this tragedy was starting to bore me and hear you are to brighten up my day! Well done, sir!”

“T-Thank you?” Illusionist stammers.

“Hmm, I have an idea. I wouldn’t want to risk the chance of my chariot race being painfully unamusing. My citizens may lose faith in their ruler, and then I’d have to kill them. That wouldn’t do. Perhaps with your antics … Illusionist, I’ve decided to place you in the chariot race tonight!”

”Gulp!” Illusionist gulps.

“In fact, perhaps I could use a man like you around my castle …”

*****

J.R.: Folks, we’re here for the final event of the night: THE CHARIOT RACE! Our five remaining superstars, six if you count both Spartas, are here in their chariots! Each chariot will be led by half-breed SPACE STALLIONS, all borne when Handsomus’ own horse was put out to stud.

The west gate OPENS up and the ILLUSIONIST is led out on his chariot pulled by a retarded space stallion.

W.W.: The Illusionist! What the fuck is he doing here?!

J.R.: It looks like Caligula decided to spare him!

Lunar Plexus towers over his opponents, his immense weight causing the frame of his chariot to creak while Nick Sparta weakly places his brother inside his own chariot. Thrak idly jerks off while Underwood limps into his chariot, his body drenched in blood. Deimos playfully tosses a skull into air, it goes into a portal, and he catches it as it flies up from the ground. Also, the Illusionist is cowering, trembling as he holds the reins of his horse.

Lightning: Loyal servants of Emperor Lightning, the main event is about to commence!

The crowd begins jamming needles into their genitals in a desperate attempt to link their primal bloodlust into their sexual drives.

Lightning: The rules are as follows: Combatants will race five laps. The first participant to complete the five laps will be declared the winner. A combatant will be eliminated when either they are too injured to continue racing or their chariot is no longer capable of movement! After each lap, the combatants can obtain a new weapon that they may use on their enemies to achieve victory.

J.R.: This all seems very familiar, doesn’t it, Warrior? Of course, I’m not sure no one in the audience can remember as much.

W.W.: Shut the fuck up Jim if you know what’s good for you!

Caligula grabs a random guard and stuffs a pound of gunpowder down his throat. Squeezing him by his waist, he points him to the crowd and HE GOES OFF LIKE A BLOODY PARTY POPPER! THE RACE IS ON!

The gates go down and the HALF-BREED SPACE VALHALLIANS RUSH OUT from their PENS. The wheels of the CHARIOTS immediately CLASH, shooting sparks into the air as they PUSH EACH OTHER into the WALL.

DEIMOS starts things off opening a portal into the air and EXTRACTING A MACE. He swings the mace into NICK SPARTA’S HEAD but SPARTA deflects it with a FORCE FIELD, knocking it into Sparta’s chariot. NICK immediately RETALIATES by WHIPPING HIS FINGERS at close range, producing RAZOR-THIN force FIELDS that SLASH into DEIMOS’ CORINTHIAN HELMET. As sparks FLY from the helmet until the THING explodes, LEAVING DEIMOS HEAD filled with METAL SHAVINGS.

J.R.: That’s gotta hurt!

“OOK!” Thrak SLAMS a HAIRY FIST into UNDERWOOD’S CHARIOT. With each HEAVY FOREARM the chariot begins to CRACK down the middle. Underwood weakly pulls himself up and takes aim with his RETRIEVED DESERT EAGLE. He fires at Thrak, striking him in the shoulder once and causing him to slump backwards. Thrak raises his hands in confusion as Underwood fires twice more. The bullets strike Thrak in his palms but his retarded CALLOUSES might as well be STEEL and the bullets RICHOCHET OFF HARMLESSLY.

The INDOMITABLE LUNAR PLEXUS rides beside the COWERING ILLUSIONIST, Plexus’ arms folded and a SUPER SMUG, ASSHOLE GRIN plastered across his lips.

“So, what your’s name, boy?” Lunar Plexus says, his chariot steering itself as he poses like a statue.

“Eh?!” the Illusionist surprised that Plexus is speaking cordially with him, “V-Victor Powers, Jr., uh, sir … THE ILLUSIONIST!”

“The Illusionist, huh?” Lunar Plexus buffs his fingernails with a random knife, “You’ve got a shitty mustache, Illusionist.” And with that, Plexus reaches over and TEARS THE ILLUSIONIST’S UPPER LIP OFF!

J.R.: BAH GAWD!

Blood gushes from ILLUSIONIST’S NEW WOUND as Plexus looks at the pencil-thin mustache attached the sliver of flesh. “Stop being such a baby,” Plexus remarks, tossing the lip and splatting it firmly against Powers’ forehead. With tears in Illusionist’s eyes ruining his thin layer of mascara, he THRUSTS HIS HANDS FOREHEAD and a DRILL of COLORED HANKERCHIEFS coming spinning out of his SLEEVES. The drill strikes Plexus in his chiseled abs, but being that they are simply cloth, they do nothing.

“Haw haw,” Plexus says, grabbing the cloth with one hand. HE YANKS the STREAM of HANDKERCHIEF towards him, hoping to pull Illusionist closer, but FINDS an OLD-FASHIONED, BLACK ORB OF A BOMB tied by the handkerchiefs! Raising a single forearm to protect himself, the BOMB EXPLODES and leaves only a few scratches on his body. Plexus grins.

J.R.: I only pray the Illusionist’s death is quick and painless, although spectacularly gory.

W.W.: I may have never seen quite a mismatch in terms of strength between two competitors, Jim. And speed, and skill, and charisma, and let’s face, good looks.

J.R.: Yes, the Illusionist is a pretty big piece of shit.

“Enough of this,” Plexus breaks his arrogant, folded arm stance to reach over and JAM HIS FINGER right into the ILLUSIONIST’S HEART.

“EYAAAAAGH!” the ILLUSIONIST SHRIEKS. As PLEXUS extracts a BLUE FINGER, PLAYING CARDS SPUTTER from the HOLE! The stream of cards increase until the Illusionist himself SWELLS UP and EXPLODES into cards!

J.R.: PLAYING CARDS?! Is Illusionist playing with Plexus?! IS THE ILLUSIONIST HOLDING BACK?!

W.W.: No, Jim, look.

The Illusionist is comically hanging upside-down on the outside of his chariot, his pants around his ankles and caught on a random spike. The Illusionist pisses into his own face as Plexus looks around, confused as to where the Illusionist could have gone.

J.R.: AND THE FIRST LAP HAS BEEN CLEARED! The guard is moving to his platform now and … THE WEAPON IS BATTLE AXES!

W.W.: The battle axe is a weapon of men.

Plexus, leading the pack, REACHES OUT for his BATTLE AXE … AND RIPS OFF THE SOLDIER’S ARM! He SCOOPS up the OTHER FIVE AXES and TURNS TO HIS COMPETITORS!

J.R.: What a dick!

Plexus playfully chucks his 1st BATTLE AXE up an down before HURLING it into the CROWD. The racers desperately PULL ON THEIR REINS to AVOID the 100 POUND SPINNING STEEL BLADE.

“Hmph,” Plexus strokes his humongous chin. Gripping his next battle axe, he SPINS it HORIZONTALLY and the assembled RACERS ducking in their CHARIOTS to avoid DECAPITATION.

“Impressive!” Plexus hurls TWO MORE, one STRIKING THRAK but he successfully blocks it with his BONERANG. The force of the blow knocks the BONERANG out of Thrak’s hands and into the FOREHEAD of some random fan. The fan stands there a moment before he realizes a gigantic bone is stuck in his skull and then, upon this realization, he is crushed under its weight. Other fans claw for a souvenir.

The other heads for HARRY UNDERWOOD but he fucking CATCHES IT IN HIS TEETH. His pupil submerges in a milky sea of white as the bear spirits begin to take hold …

W.W.: Have you ever seen such a paragon of manhood, Jim?! I mean, aside from Emperor Lightning, of course!

PLEXUS twirls the two remaining battle axes between his fingers before HURLING the NEXT AT THRAK once again, Thrak defenseless without his bonerang! In desperation, THRAK grips the sides of his CHARIOT and PUSHES HIMSELF UPWARD. Tucking his knees, he SUDDENLY FIRES THEM at the ground and PIERCES THROUGH THE WOOD and into the GROUND BELOW. THE FORCE PROPELS THRAK INTO AIR AS HE DODGES THE FUCKING BATTLE AXE!

J.R.: AMAZING! The CAVE MAN certainly has a few TRICKS UP HIS SLEEVE!

W.W.: But he’s eliminated, JIM!

WARRIOR is right! The BATTLE AXE has DECAPITATED his TWO SPACE STALLIONS! He can’t continue the race!

… THAT IS UNTIL THRAK LANDS AND STARTS RUNNING WITH THE CHARIOT, FUCKING FRED FLINSTONE-ING THAT SHIT!!

J.R.: BAAAH GAWD! HE’S STILL IN IT!

“Ho ho ho,” PLEXUS hurls the LAST BATTLE AXE, aiming to finish THRAK OFF. THRAK LEAPS SIDEWAYS to DODGE it and the AXE BURIES ITSELF INTO THE GROUND. Behind THRAK is DEIMOS and his CHARIOT STRIKES THE BLADED EDGE, the momentum RAMPING HIM OFF THE BLADE and into the AIR!

J.R.: MAH GAWD, and he’s HEADED STRAIGHT FOR PLEXUS.

Plexus doesn’t FLINCH, however. HE JUST GRINS and CATCHES the CHARIOT BETWEEN HIS HANDS. THE SPACE STALLIONS hang in MID-AIR, CHOKED BY THEIR REINS, as PLEXUS TOYS WITH DEIMOS!

“The competition provided by Caligula’s Bloodsport are like children in my hands!” he says, LIFTING DEIMOS’ CHARIOT ABOVE HIS HEAD. As he PUTS THE SQUEEZE on that SHIT, SWORDS begin BURSTING through the BOTTOM one after the OTHER and STRIKING PLEXUS IN THE FACE!

W.W.: No, PLEXUS!

The tips of the blades only manage to penetrate an inch before his near-INDESTRUCTABLE BONES stop their progression. One last SWORD slides forward, SLOWLY AIMING for his EYE, but Plexus merely BATS an EYELASH and his INSURMOUNTABLE EYELIDS stop the blade from robbing him of his sight.

“Pathetic,” PLEXUS LIFTS DEIMOS’ CHARIOT higher as Deimos tries to extract another sword from his PORTAL. With a MANLY GRUNT, PLEXUS HURLS THE FUCKING CHARIOT *CLEAR* OUT OF THE ARENA!

J.R.: WHAT THE FUCK!

Caligula whips out a telescope and peers outside the MURDERENA. DEIMOS and his CHARIOT PLUNGE DEEP into a TAR PIT, his WHINNYING HORSES dragging along with HIM.

W.W.: Deimos has been eliminated!

Plexus raises his ARMS in TRIUMPH as the CROWD LEAPS CHEERS ONTO HIM.

J.R.: There are five competitors remaining and the SECOND LAP IS CLEARED. The next WEAPON IS SPEARS and once again Plexus is hogging them all.

The one-armed soldier merely places the pile of spears on the platform and runs away as Plexus scoops them up with one hand. Squeezing them all together, he TOSSES them FORWARD and they rain down on the racers. All but three MISS THEIR TARGET as the remaining spears DROP DOWN ON NICK SPARTA. He raises his HANDS and CREATES a FORCE FIELD. THE SPEARS BOUNCE of HARMLESSLY but the FORCE knocks NICK SPARTA backwards and FROM HIS CHARIOT. As Nick falls, his brother ALESSANDRO AWAKENS and GRABS HIS LEGS. He pulls the unconscious Nick into his chariot and RISES to HIS FEET.

J.R.: It looks like Alessandro Sparta is going to be the next to challenge Lunar Plexus!

W.W.: Pft, good luck! Lunar Plexus is an azure god!

ALESSANDRO SPARTA raises a palm towards LUNAR PLEXUS and concentrates. As veins bulge on his temples, Lunar Plexus does the international “CAWMN ON” sign. Seconds pass and nothing happens as Sparta remains frozen in that pose.

W.W.: What the fuck is he doing?

J.R.: Presumably that magic he was using earlier … but nothing’s happening!

Plexus keeps smirking until he notices the pack GAINING ON HIM. Soon Underwood and Thrak and even Illusionist’s unmanned (as far as Plexus knows) chariot passes. PLEXUS turns to see his HORSES STRUGGLING, their hooves trudging deeply in the dirt as they struggle to race. Al Sparta has applied his gravity onto the horses!

J.R.: He’s using his magic on the horses! Brilliant! He’s avoiding the fight altogether and leaving Plexus in the dust!

As Sparta tries to PASS PLEXUS, Plexus kicks the WALL and pushes his chariot to the left to INTERCEPT SPARTA. As it slides to the side, PLEXUS takes his BIG, BLUE MITTS and GRIPS the throats of SPARTA’S HORSES. He raises a foot and stops Sparta’s chariot instantly!

W.W.: FUCK, INCREDIBLE! No one can stand up to Plexus!

J.R.: He must have figured out Al Sparta was behind this!

Sparta looks behind and sees a SPEAR buried in the dirt. Grabbing it, he attempts to STAB PLEXUS in the throat but PLEXUS merely SNAPS the spear with his chin. The indomitable Plexus LIFTS HIS HEEL and drops it into Al Sparta, pinning him to the floor of his chariot.

J.R.: Plexus is looking to finish off Sparta as the three other racers are going into LAP THREE.

“D-Damnit Nick …” Al looks to his unconscious brother. He desperately tries to focus on LEAPING INTO HIM but Nick won’t budge. Al can feel his ribcage CREAKING as Plexus playfully squashes him.

“AWOOOOOOOOO!” THRAK FLIES OUT OF NOWHERE TUCKED INTO A GODDAMNED BALL AND SLAMS INTO PLEXUS’ FUCKING FACE!

J.R.: THRAK! THRAK! OUT OF NOWHERE!

W.W.: WHAT?! NO!

With SEVERAL HUNDRED POUNDS OF CAVEMAN PRESSING ONTO HIS FACE, PLEXUS LOSES HIS BALANCE and STUMBLES BACKWARDS. As THRAK BOUNCES from PLEXUS’ FACE, PLEXUS SNAPS a STALLION NECK and uses his NOW FREE HAND to UPPERCUT the SHIT OUT OF THRAK. The CAVEMAN BALL is SENT ROCKETING STRAIGHT UP INTO THE SKY!

J.R.: BAH GAWD! HE’S SENT THRAK CLEAR OUT OF THE PARK!

W.W.: HELL YEAH! IN FACT, HE’S STILL GOING UP!

J.R.: There’s no way in Hell … unless … !

AL SPARTA HAS HIS HAND UP, AIMING FOR THRAK AND MAKING HIM LIGHTER! As PLEXUS finishes HEADBUTTING SPARTA’S OTHER HORSE to DEATH, he hears a faint whisper.

“Try this on for size, you big, blue faggot …” Alessandro mutters as VEINS BULGE ON HIS TEMPLES. Plexus looks up to see THRAK COMING STRAIGHT DOWN, STILL IN HIS BALL FORM! IN FACT, HE’S SPINNING INSANELY AND GLOWING FAINTLY RED AS IF HE WERE RE-ENTERING THE ATMOSPHERE! AL SPARTA HAS INCREASED THE GRAVITY UNDER THRAK!

“What?” Plexus has a half-smile cocked, a LITTLE NERVOUS as he’s JUST NOW REALIZING he’s having TROUBLE RAISING HIS OWN ARMS. He tries to CRUSH AL SPARTA but his HAND only clips the edge of the chariot. “Hahaha … I can’t believe this.”

BOOOOOOOOM! THE TITANTIC THRAK BALL SLAMS DOWN INTO PLEXUS, BURYING HIM DEEP INTO THE GROUND. THE FORCE CREATES A SINKHOLE that SWALLOWS UP PLEXUS’ HORSES. Sparta rolls off with his brother as HIS CHARIOT and HORSES VANISH WITH THRAK AND PLEXUS!

W.W.: NOOOOO! NOOOOOO!

J.R.: I CAN’T BELIEVE IT! IF MY COUNT IS CORRECT … THOSE THREE ARE ELIMINATED! ALL AT ONCE! BAH GAWD!

W.W.: P-PLEXUS! NO!

J.R.: And that leaves Underwood … and THE ILLUSIONIST?!

And speaking of those two, ILLUSIONIST finally CRAWLS back into his CHARIOT and PULLS UP HIS PANTS. He reaches into his pocket and desperately tries to re-attach his upper lip with no luck. Finally giving up, he peeks up to see what’s going on and is GREETING WITH A BLAST OF FLAMES!

J.R.: We forgot entirely about the racers and, more importantly, the 3rd lap weapon! It’s a damn flamethrower!

Underwood sets ILLUSIONIST’S CHARIOT ON FIRE with the flamethrower, completely dousing it with fire! Illusionist finds his only sanctuary slowly burning away from the intense heat.

”W-What do I do, Dilettante?! I’m going to die!” he screams at the Dilettante’s skull. Suddenly, he hears a VOICE RESPOND BACK.

“Use your brain, Victor. If you do, you’ll soar to new heights …”

“S-Soar …?”

POOF! THE CHARIOT EXPLODES INTO PURPLE SMOKE AND THE ILLUSIONIST SOARS INTO AIR RIDING A GIANT GODDAMNED DOVE!

J.R.: WHAAAT?!

Caligula is in his V.I.P. box, laughing and slapping his knee.

“I DID IT! I’M FLYING!” THE ILLUSIONIST SHOUTS WITH TEAR-FILLED EYES. He slaps the side of the dove with his top hat, screaming “YAHOOIE!”

AS UNDERWOOD LOOKS UP, THE GIANT DOVE TAKES A BIG SHIT. But no, this is no NORMAL SHIT, this SHIT is ACTUALLY ACID DIARRHEA! It fucking BURNS THROUGH one UNDERWOOD’S STALLIONS, reducing it to a SMOKING SKELETON.

J.R.: BAH GAWD! I can’t believe what I’m seeing!

W.W.: SHIT, and now it’s LAP FOUR!

And right as they complete lap three, CALIGULA suddenly GRABS A GIANT LEVER SITUATED NEXT TO HIS THRONE. Upon pulling it, one of the PIT’S WALLS moves outwards to REVEAL A RAMP leading *INTO* THE AUDIENCE.

“EXCELLENT EXCELLENT! I AWAIT THE DELIGHTFUL OF A SYMPHONY OF SCREAMS!” CALIGULA SHOUTS.

UNDERWOOD’S CHARIOT HITS THAT RAMP AND BEGINS TEARING THROUGH FAN AFTER FAN, CRUSHING, SPLATTERING, AND IMPALING FAN AFTER FAN as THE HALF-BREED SPACE STALLION GNASHES AT THEIR THROATS.

J.R.: TH-THIS IS INHUMANE!

W.W.: LOOK AROUND YOU, J.R.! THERE’S DEATH EVERYWHERE! OUR LORD IS JUST FUNNELING IT TO US FOR OUR ENTERTAINMENT!

J.R.: I was wondering why the arena seating was set up in a PERFECT SPIRAL. IT’S A GODDAMNED ROAD!

AS GOB AFTER OF GOB OF ACID DIARRHEA FALLS FROM THE SKY AND LIQUIFIES FANS, UNDERWOOD FUTILELY SPRAYS THE REMAINDER OF HIS FLAMETHROWER FUEL INTO THE AIR. As another ball of BUBBLING SHIT drops, he HURLS a RANDOM MAN at it to ABSORB THE ACID. As a splash of acid strikes Underwood’s shoulder, he falls to the bottom of his chariot and begins clawing his chest.

“URRKK … GRAAAH …” HE PANTS AND SWEAT. Slowly, his bear helmet slowly wraps around his face, SWALLOWING UP HIS HUMANITY. With his muscles bulging and THICK, MANLY HAIR EXPLODING FROM HIS CHEST, he LOOKS UP at the SKY AND THE BEAR HEAD OPENS ITS EYES AND ROARS!

J.R.: BEAR HEAD!

W.W.: WELL FUCKING PUT, JIM!

With SUPER AGENT HARRY UNDERWOOD’S fingers turning into CLAWS, he can EASILY EVISCERATE NEARBY fans and TEAR OUT THEIR BONES. Hurling FEMURS, SPINES, and RIBS, a SKELETAL STORM STRIKES THE ILLUSIONIST’S MEGA-DOVE.

“AH, NO! WHAT’S HAPPENING!” the ILLUSIONIST freaks out as the DOVE SCREAMS, it’s body riddled with BONES.

“You have to do something!” the Dilettante’s skull speaks to him!

“But I can’t do SHIT!” the Illusionist whines, then LOOKS UP. “Shit, THAT’S IT!”

The Illusionst whips off his hat, turns it over, and SEVERAL POUNDS OF SHIT fall FROM IT and hit Harry Underwood in his bear head. Ultimately, it does nothing.

“Baka …” the Dilettante whispers.

Tired of all this SHIT (lol), Harry Underwood grabs a random woman and her child out of the crowd as he begins to finish the fourth lap. He tears her flesh off and twists her body like he was ringing out a wet towel before finally SHOVING HIS HAND up HER ASS and YANKING out her LARGE INTESTINE. Taking that, he pulls it from her ass and SHOVES IT DOWN HER THROAT.

J.R.: THIS IS HORRIFIC! Why is Underwood desecrating that woman’s corpse?!

He bends the woman until she takes a curved shape, the intestine from her ass to her mouth making her corpse look like a D. Taking the CHILD, HE PLACES IT ON THE WOMAN’S CORPSE AND PULLS IT BACK, EFFECTIVELY MAKING A MOTHER AND CHILD BOW!

J.R.: Oh God.

UNDERWOOD FIRES THE CHILD SO HARD THAT IT SOMEHOW PIERCES THE DOVE’S NECK. THE ILLUSIONIST SCREAMS LIKE A BITCH UNTIL HE CRASHES INTO THE TAR PIT THAT CLAIMED DEIMOS.

W.W.: WAIT, DID UNDERWOOD JUST WIN?!

OF COURSE NOT. AS UNDERWOOD IS ABOUT TO CROSS INTO THE FIFTH LAP, HE FEELS HIS CHARIOT LIFT INTO THE AIR. LUNAR GODDAMNED PLEXUS HAS BURST OUT FROM UNDER THE STANDS *UNDERNEATH* UNDERWOOD’S CHARIOT. BRINGING HIS ARMS DOWN ON TOP OF UNDERWOOD’S HEAD, HE SQUISHES HIM INTO HIS SHOULDERS AS HE DROPS ONTO HIS ASS.

YES, PLEXUS STUNNERS UNDERWOOD AND THE HORSE HE RODE IN ON, AND THE CHARIOT TOO, INTO HIS SHOULDERS.

J.R.: DARKSIDE OF THE MOON! DARKSIDE OF THE MOON!

W.W.: BRLIGHA-YEAAAAH!!

THE HORSE AND THE CHARIOT EXPLODE AS UNDERWOOD SLUMPS DOWN BROKEN. HE IS ELIMINATED.

Tossing away his defeated opponent, Plexus digs into the hole he just burst out of and pulls out his CHARIOT. Lifting him up, he sees the dead horse hanging from it and pokes it a few times.

J.R.: Wait a minute. His horses are dead so he can’t continue. Does that make UNDERWOOD the winner?!

Plexus is unconcerned. He merely takes the horse, tosses it away, and kicks the sides off the chariot. Placing it UNDER ONE FOOT, he begins SKATEBOARDING INTO HIS CHARIOT, TRAMPLING AND GUTTING the RETARDED FANS STILL HANGING AROUND.

J.R.: But with only Plexus left, it’s merely a formality!

W.W.: Like you don’t know what’s going to happen, Jim.

AND ON CUE, A PORTAL OPENS ABOVE PLEXUS AND DUMPS BOILING TAR ONTO PLEXUS!

J.R.: BAAAH GAWD!! DEIMOS! DEIMOS!

DEIMOS CRASHES DOWN ONTO PLEXUS’ SHOULDERS AND STABS A CHAINSAW INTO HIS CHEST.

“URK!” PLEXUS GRUNTS AS HE BLEEDS FOR THE FIRST TIME THIS RACE.

“FUCK YOU FAGGOTTT!!” DEIMOS SCREAMS, STOMPING ON THE CHAINSAW JUTTING FROM HIS CHEST. DEIMOS IS FUCKING PISSED, UNDERSTANDABLY BECAUSE HE SPENT THE LAST FIVE MINUTES IN TAR.

J.R.: I don’t even think DEIMOS QUALIFIES, though, he hasn’t completed all the laps! But even then, what if HE KILLS PLEXUS?! SUDDEN DEATH?

W.W.: Plexus will kill this PRICK, I’m sure of it! I’M SURE OF IT!

As PLEXUS’s CHARIOT is HALFWAY through the last lap, HE GRABS DEIMOS by the THROAT and HURLS A FIST. AT THE LAST MOMENT DEIMOS OPENS A PORTAL to BLOCK PLEXUS FIST, SENDING HIS ARM RIGHT BACK INTO HIS FACE!

“OOMPH!” PLEXUS SPITS UP BLOOD. IF ONE THING CAN DAMAGE HIM, IT’S HIS OWN BODY!

J.R.: So if Deimos can kill him he can still complete the race.

W.W.: DO YOU REALIZE WHAT YOU’RE SAYING?

J.R.: If only there was … WAIT A MINUTE, WARRIOR, LOOK!

A BROKEN THRAK is PUSHING HIS CHARIOT INTO THE STANDS.

J.R.: HE MUST HAVE GOT INTO THE HOLE! HE’S STILL IN IT, TOO!

W.W.: BULLSHIT BULLSHIT BULLSHIT!

“You fool, you’re really starting to piss me off today,” PLEXUS says as he squeezes DEIMOS BY THE THROAT.

“Fuck you, you shit …” Deimos replies, blood running down his lips.

J.R.: THEY’RE 3/4ths of the WAY THROUGH THE FINAL LAP! IT’S ALMOST OVER!

THRAK IS IN THE STANDS USING HIS RETRIEVED BONERANG TO PUSH HIMSELF ALONG. DEIMOS RAISES A HAND AND CREATES A PORTAL BEHIND HIM THAT DUMPS HEAPS OF BODIES INTO THE ROAD.

“WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?!” PLEXUS SHOUTS. THE CHARIOT BEGINS TO SLOW DOWN, THE WHEELS FINDING IT DIFFICULT TO ROLL OVER THE NUMEROUS BODIES.

J.R.: THRAK IS GAINING ON HIM!

THRAK IS ONLY A FEW YARDS BEHIND AS HE DESPERATELY PUSHES ALONG WITH HIS CHARIOT AND BONERANG.

“IDIOT!” PLEXUS casually CHOKESLAMS the SHIT OUT OF DEIMOS into the ground. “Like that would stop me!”

PLEXUS lifts his OWN CHARIOT ABOVE HIS HEAD, the DEAD HORSE DANGLING IN FRONT OF IT STILL. PLEXUS THEN BEGINS STOMPING THROUGH THE GUTS AND THE BONES TO GET TO THE FINAL LAP!

W.W.: YES YES YES!

J.R.: HE’S GOING TO DO IT! THRAK CAN’T MAKE IT!

AS LUNAR PLEXUS NEARS THE FINISH LINE, THE HEAD OF THE FUCKING HORSE EXPLODES AND OUT POPS A FIGURE!

W.W.: NO! IT’S IMPOSSIBLE! THAT’S FUCKING IMPOSSIBLE!

J.R.: JACK MASTERSON?!

NO!! IT’S THE FUCKING ILLUSIONIST! HIM AND HIS WHOLE CHARIOT BURST OF THE HORSE’S NECKHOLE AND CROSS THE FINISH LINE! THE ILLUSIONIST IS THE WINNER!

W.W.: OH FUCK NO! FUCK FUCK FUCK!

J.R.: I CAN’T BELIEVE I’M SAYING THIS BUT … THE ILLUSIONIST WON THE MAIN EVENT!

The Illusionist, drenched in blood, stands up in his chariot as LUNAR PLEXUS LOOKS ON, STUNNED. Then the Illusionist’s pants fall down.

J.R.: GOOD NIGHT WHOEVER’S STILL ALIVE! ABHORRENT ANATHEMA IS OVER!
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