Dragon Ball Z Uncensored

[Vinny]

Fans clad in animal-skins brave the snowstorms as they head to the northern reaches of the Republic of Guitar Solos for Slaughter Serenade: A Sanguine Symphony of Melodious Maiming. During this long, and mandatory journey, fans can expect to be mauled by radioactive polar bears borne from the arctic wasteland created by the nuclear winter contained entirely in No Man’s Land.

Soon the procession enters the Valley of Riffs and is greeted by Emperor Lightning’s Knights of the Holy Iron Intestine. They force the fans into a straight line by stabbing them and leading them into Caligula’s newest arena, a 30 story black tower erected from steel, ash, and ice. Raucous cheers emanate from the structure.

J.R.: Here we are folks, in the Republic of Guitar Solos at the Citadel of Contemptible Causality! This is GOOD OL’ J.R., shackled and bound alongside my broadcasting partner Warrior Warrior! What do you say, Warrior?

W.W.: I’m brimming with testosterone and ready to see some blood, as always, Jim! Tonight we’re getting the only kind of violence Emperor Lightning can deliver!

The gelatinous Caligula Lightning sits on his throne, his gargantuan feet propped up on the back of a strong man who is desperately pushing himself up lest he drops into the bed of spikes set under his torso. Lightning enjoys a chalice of human breast milk (with pulp!) as his advisor, his younger brother Germanicus the II, crawls out of his doghouse with a scroll of parchment in his mouth.

“Oh, do you have something for me, brother?” Caligula pulls the chain to Germanicus collar, strangling him and lifting him into the air. He plucks the parchment from his mouth and reads it. “What is this?”

“Y-Yurrr majesttyy … it’s repuurttss from the … CACK!” Caligula drops Germanicus II onto the ground, “It is from our armies stationed in the remnants of Warrior Land. That man from the Middle East has made an appearance here in New America …”

Caligula stops chewing on flesh and turns his eyes towards Germanicus. He yanks his chain again, lifting him into the air.

“That man? Say his name to me or you won’t say anything ever again,” Caligula mutters to the choking Germanicus, his hot, putrid breath staining his brother’s skin.

“It’s Z-Z-ZEEEEEEED!!” GERMANICUS CRIES. Caligula tosses him into the wall gently, although this still breaks one of his ribs.

”So he’s come to wage war?” Caligula resumes his eating.

“Yes, Lord Lightning … his armies have been conquering the land surrounding the Holy Lightning Empire. He personally delivered a message to some of our survivors …”

“And he said?”

“’Now that all three of us are here … we can finally decide who the true God of Fists is!’” Germanicus replies while in tears. Caligula’s face transforms first into fear, then into JUBILANT GLEE. He viciously chomps down on a bull, causing it to spray shit and blood everywhere. Caligula’s face turns into any number of pictures of Raoh grinning up close. He tosses away the BULL CORPSE and STEPS FORWARD, RAISING A FIST DRAMATICALLY.

“GAH HAH HAH HAH HAH! ALRIGHT THEN, I have no reservations of speeding up the DEGENERATION of this WRETCHED LAND called America. The persistent suffering of millions can only SUSTAIN ME FOR SO LONG, AFTER ALL,” CALIGULA SLAPS HIS GUT, SENDING ROLLS OF FAT RIPPLING ACROSS HIS FRAME. “IF ZEED and OUR OTHER LITTLE FRIEND want to RAISE THE CURTAIN FOR THE FINAL ACT of this ABSURD ALLEGORY of REVELROUS STRIFE DELECTABLE DISORDER, then they have to LOOK NO FURTHER. I’ll CLAW at THEIR THROATS and DRINK OF THEIR VITALITY before I SUBMERGE this WORLD into ABSOLUTE DEATH!!”

Caligula’s men tremble at Caligula’s words, since he’s quite capable of extinguishing every trace of life in New America.

J.R.: We’ve got a helluva card for you folks, tonight! First we’re starting off with newcomer and former astronaut Ren Alexander taking on Corporal Body. Corporal Body lost at Abhorrent Anathema last month, but he survived meaning he might have what it takes to make it in Caligula’s Bloodsport.

W.W.: Then we have Doolittle duking it out Nick Sparta. Although not paired with his brother any longer, Nick Sparta apparently has some sort of fucking magic power so Doolittle is probably fucked.

J.R.: After that is Glorious Titan vs. Axelrod Waylyn. Both are coming off losses so it’s hard to say who will win this one.

W.W.: Titan, Axelrod is a skinny fag whose super power is extra-long fingernails. Fuck him.

J.R.: Astute observation, Warrior. But there’s one THING we forgot to mention. All of the matches we just mentioned have a LITTLE SOMETHING EXTRA planned for them tonight. That is the INCLUSION of Emperor Lightning’s newest invention, the WHEEL OF FATALITY. I don’t know the specifics of it, but it will randomly decide the type of match our combatants will compete in! Sounds exciting.

W.W.: I’ll take anything that will drown out the boredom of watching Doolittle compete.

J.R.: After that we have our first TAG MATCH! Church & State will face off with the winner of last month’s main event, the ILLUSIONIST, and his partner JAZZ FANTASTIC.

W.W.: I have no fucking idea who Church & State are, by I’ve just decided that they are new second favorites, just under the indomitable LUNAR PLEXUS. If they can successfully murder that pencil mustache-sporting p/c liberal queer the ILLUSIONIST, you can call me their #1 fan.

J.R.: Kenjiro Kanzaki will battle Al Sparta. Al Sparta seems to have the advantage here, but let’s not forget Kenjiro single-handledly obliterated Dwayne Guan in one blow last event. It’s up in the air for me.

W.W.: Who gives a shit. The next match features some REAL MEN, the kind who use a CLUB for FOREPLAY. Thrak taking on Deimos. Deimos ain’t bad, but I love Thrak. He’s like the son I never had.

J.R.: But you had a son, Warrior.

W.W.: Are you fucking correcting me, Jim?

J.R.: Never mind that, the MAIN EVENT is geared to be a DOOZY. The unstoppable LUNAR PLEXUS against Super Agent Harry Underwood. I gotta say, I’m excited for that one the most.

W.W.: Lunar Plexus is the greatest person to have ever lived, aside from Caligula Lightning. His dick is probably pretty massive, too. As for Harry Underwood, despite being a servant of the U.S. government, I don’t think being able to turn your head into a bear will cut it with this guy. Lunar Plexus can change colors, apparently!

J.R.: And to further the sweeten the pot tonight, the TOP FOUR RANKING competitors after this event will compete next month for the CALIGULA BLOODSPORT CHAMPIONSHIP. That is, if anyone survives tonight!

W.W.: But enough talk, Jim, shit’s about to get STARTED. Let’s wait for the Emperor to begin the event!

Caligula walks to the balcony of his box and surveys the crowd.

“I, Emperor Caligula Lightning, declare that Slaughter Serenade shall COMMENCE!” he booms. The fans explode into an orgy and soldiers spray them down blood using firehoses to calm them the fuck down.

J.R.: YOU HEARD ‘EM, FOLKS! LET’S BEGIN!

Caligula Lightning assumes his throne and calls one of his servants.

“Summon the Imperial Cockwasher. I have an itch,” Caligula commands. A few moments later Junior Bruce Jr. is dragged in wearing a dress and those little carwash gloves.

[Vinny]

As fans finishing being shoved into the seating of the tower, packed together like sheep. Those in the nosebleed seats are dying from hypothermia, occasionally being impaled by a giant icicle hanging from the ceiling, shook lose due to the frenzied cheering. In the center of the arena, soldiers trudge through the dirt carrying an odd structure. Those in attendance look upon the shape knowing that they have seen it before, but cannot identify it.

A large, square platform is set down gently by Caligula’s men. They drape a large sheet of tanned human skin over the box. Carefully, they arrange four straightened elephant spines in each corner. Taking three extremely long ropes composed of ligaments, they are strung up along the poles and fastened in place with human skulls.

“Caligula Lightning … that structure is forbidden in New America …” Germanicus II speaks up. “That entire CONCEPT has been carefully suppressed in the minds of the people. You’ll be undoing all your hard work.”

“If I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it,” Caligula says, picking an organ from his teeth, “I’m the ruler of New America, not them. If they have a problem with my authority, they know where to find me. Regardless, speak no further on this matter as talk of politics destroys my digestion. I have combat to oversee!”

He RISES UP from his THRONE and RAISES A FIST.

“Bring out the WHEEL OF FATALITY!” CALIGULA DECLARES. The audience explodes but they basically explode when anyone says anything. A giant guy wearing a leather hood drags out a wheel with eight people strapped naked to it. On each of there stomach the name of a match type is branded.

J.R.: This is quite unorthodox, I must say.

The giant goon grabs the edge of the wheel and spins. The eight poor souls scream in horror as they are spun rapidly. Caligula Lightning then grabs a spear from a servant.

“The contest between Ren Alexander and Corporal Body shall be …” Caligula HURLS his spear, nailing a Mexican woman in the throat. The goon grabs the spear to slow down the wheel. “a HOOK, LINE, and SINKER match.”

The crowd explodes although they don’t know what the hell a Hook, Line, and Sinker match is.

J.R.: That certainly doesn’t explain much, does it, Warrior?

W.W.: Caligula is the Baron of Brutality, Jim, I don’t think it’ll disappoint, even with a gay name like that.

Greasy looking slaves begin turning wheels around the perimeter of the arena floor. Slowly, a trap door opens up in the cold ground and an Olympic-class sized pool of boiling LEAD rises up from the ground. Carefully, slaves place a small metal bridge on the pool that spans from one end to the other. Slowly, metal hooks on chains descend from the ceiling and hang above the pool of lead.

Also, several goons lose arms in the machinery used to lift the lead above ground.

J.R.: I just got word from some brown fellow in a loincloth that that there swimming pool is called a Murder-Hole, apparently. The objective for our contestants is to impale one of the opponents with a metal hook and dip them into the lead.

W.W.: That’s pretty goddamned awesome.

J.R.: I guess it’s safe to say one of our combatants will die here today!

Reginald Lightning, whose neck is as wide as his shoulders from all the VOICE ENHANCING STEROIDS Caligula’s scientists subjected him to, is brought to the newly-constructed ring on a stretcher. Slaves lift him up as he’s not able to stand under his own weight and brings him near the pool of lead.

LIGHTNING: COMING TO THE RING FIRST, HAILING FROM SCARSDALE, NEW YORK and WEIGHING IN AT 210 POUUUUUNDS … REEEEN ALEXAAAANDEERRRR!

The steel gates to the arena rise up and a man dressed in tattered brown pants. His greasy black hair and beard is filled with sand and rocks and seashells and shit. Also, he has a seaweed bandana.

J.R.: I’ve known I’ve been proven wrong numerous times on this point, but Corporal Body is WAY bigger than Ren Alexander. Small guys never win!

W.W.: It’s hard to decide if a corporal is more badass than a champion astronaut. I have to reserve my judgment until minutes before the match ends.

Ren Alexander does a bunch of cartwheels and then backflips onto the bridge across the expanse of molten lead. What agility!

LIGHTNING: AND HIS OPPONENT, HAILING FROM MISSOULA MONTANA AND WEIGHING IN AT OVER 385 POUUUUNDS … CORPORAAAAAL BOOOODYYYYYY!!

This huge, hulking motherfucker that’s as wide as he is tall (and he’s tall!) walks through the steel gate before it can completely rise. He’s wearing his faded fatigues plus scraps of metal ripped from cars and folded into armor with his bare hands. He BOUNDS on top of the bridge of the MOLTEN LEAD pool, causing it to SHAKE BRIEFLY.

J.R.: I gotta say, things don’t look good for Ren. It’s obvious Ren has some agility but he’s fighting on a narrow bridge. Corporal Body is too wide to maneuver around and I don’t think Ren has to the strength to push him back!

A slave is brought over to Reginald Lightning kicking and scream. Lightning inhales and BLOWS into the MAN’S EAR, shooting his brains out the other end and releasing what sounds like a THE ROAR of a CONC SHELL.

J.R.: Here we go, folks!

REN bolts forward like LIGHTNING and LEAPS INTO THE AIR. He moves forward FOOT FIRST and COLLIDES a HEEL straight into BODY’S FACE, COMPACTING IT. When BODY doesn’t BUDGE, Ren quickly SLAMS his OTHER FOOT into his face before GRAVITY ACTS UPON HIM. To counter, BODY HURLS his HEAD FORWARD and PUSHES HIM DOWN, essentially POWERBOMBING HIM.

W.W.: That’s a first.

Body attempts to AXE HANDLE the FALLEN REN but REN somersaults backwards out of the way JUST IN TIME. The bridge SNAPS FROM THE BLOW and the two pieces of the bridge begin to SINK INTO THE LEAD.

J.R.: Things are pickin’ up! The match hasn’t been going on for a minute and that freak of nature CORPORAL BODY has broken the STEEL BRIDGE covering the pool of lead. This one may end up being a draw!

W.W.: It doesn’t count if they don’t get hooked BEFORE falling into the lead!

Corporal Body and Ren Alexander climb up their individual sections as they slowly sink into the lead. The crowd gets IRRITATED and BEGINS to BOO as the two COMBATANTS can’t reach other.

J.R.: The crowd ain’t likin’ this. Someone better come up with a solution to this predicament and quick.

CALIGULA, throw displeased as well, grabs the nearest soldier and FLINGS HIM INTO THE AIR. The soldier EVENTUALLY STRIKES the CEILING HARD, KNOCKING DOZENS of GIANT ICICLES to the ground.

BOOM! Hot LEAD SPRAYS as WAVES OF THE SHIT send the two COMBATANTS SURFING through the METAL OCEAN. Ren LEAPS from his section of the bridge and hops onto a QUICKLY MELTING ICICLE that acts as an ISLAND. Body does the same and the TWO BEGIN DUKING IT OUT.

W.W.: Caligula sure is a genius.

WHOOSH! The titanic swings of BODY causes WAVES to FORM despite that he can’t LAND A BLOW on REN. Ren, despite his best efforts, is FINDING that his numerous blows. Even a TIGER KNEE to BODY’S GROIN doesn’t seem to ELICIT a response, but that may be because Body looks like he’s furious out of his fucking mind all the time.

As the HUNK of ICE the two are riding on sinks further, Ren DEFTLY leaps backwards and lands on an adjacent one. BODY looks down to see his FEET BOILING.

J.R.: BODY MAY BE OUT OF THIS ONE!

SUPER FUCKING PISSED, BODY UPPERCUTS JUST ABOVE THE OCEAN OF LEAD, SENDING A WAVE OF THE SHIT FLYING AT REN. REN SHIELDS HIMSELF BUT GLOBULES OF LEAD BORE INTO HIS FLESH AND SENDS HIM SKIDDING ALONG THE ICE. Body LEAPS from his ICE PLATFORM, his BOOTS BURNED OFF and HIS FEET A BLOOD RED, and CRASHES ONTO REN!

“GRAAAAGH!” REN SHOUTS WHILE SPITTING UP BLOOD. The icicle the two men are fighting on sinks deeper.

W.W.: I don’t think anyone told Body the goal of the match! He’s just out to kill Ren Alexander!

J.R.: That’s one way to win, certainly!

BODY reaches down with his GIANT MITTS and ATTEMPTS to STRANGLE REN’S HEAD OFF. Ren tucks his LEGS and PUTS HIS FEET SQUARELY on the INSIDE of BODY’S ELBOW, preventing BODY’S HANDS from REACHING HIS NECK.

“Grooooooorrrghh …” BODY GROWLS NONSENSICALLY THROUGH HIS PERMANENTLY CLENCHED TEETH. In desperation, REN JAMS HIS THUMBS into the TEARDUCTS OF BODY’S EYE, DIGGING INTO HIS EYES SOCKETS!

W.W.: THAT’S HOW YOU DO IT!

J.R.: GRUESOME! Ren’s gotta a lot of fight left in him!

But BODY doesn’t give up! HIS FINGERS BEGIN TIGHTENING AROUND REN’S FUCKING NECK. WITH REN’S TRACHEA SLOWLY BEING CRUSHED AND BLOOD DRIPPING FROM HIS NOSE, HE IS FORCED TO RIP OUT CORPORAL BODY’S EYES!

W.W.: HOLY SHIT!!

J.R.: HE RIPPED OUT HIS GODDAMNED EYES!

BODY STOPS HIS ASSAULT FOR HALF OF A SECOND, GIVING REN THE OPPORTUNITY TO DRIVE BOTH OF HIS FEET INTO BODY’S STOMACH. BODY IS PUSHED OFF OF REN BRIEFLY, AND REN ROLLS OUT FROM UNDER HIM before HE SLAMS FACE FIRST INTO THE ICE.

“GAAAAAAAAH!!” BODY SWINGS HIS FIST BLINDLY, NAILING REN IN THE RIBS AND FRACTURING. REN IS FLUNG THROUGH THE AIR OVER THE OCEAN OF LEAD. AT THE LAST SECOND, HE GRABS ONTO A HOOK AND SWINGS ON IT LIKE TARZAN. As the hunk of ice melts faster and faster and Body THRASHES WILDLY, UNABLE TO SEE, REN SWINGS FROM HOOK TO HOOK TOWARDS BODY.

J.R.: REN’S COMING! WHAT DOES HE HAVE PLANNED?!

Taking two HOOKS ON CHAINS, HE FLIES OVER BODY AND SLAMS THEM INTO HIS EYE SOCKETS. BLOOD JUST SHOOTS OUT OF HIS EYE HOLES AS REN DIVES OFF OF HIM. Sliding on the thin sheet of ICE, REN DRIVES A FOOT INTO BODY’S JAW, KNOCKING HIM INTO THE AIR.

J.R.: HATORI KICK!

Ren, LEARNING THAT THE HOOKS ON CHAINS ARE INTERCONNECTED, GRABS ONTO TWO OTHER HOOKS AND HANGS FROM THEM. ONCE BODY BEGINS TO FALL, THE CHAINS GO TAUT AND HE IS HUNG BY HIS EYE SOCKETS.

J.R.: Ren just seems to be TOYING with CORPORAL BODY NOW!

REN SWINGS FORWARD on the TWO HOOKS and COLLIDES with BODY. Wrapping his LEGS AROUND HIS HEAD, he slams his TWO HOOKS into BODY’S CHEST, KEEPING HIM HUNG IN PLACE.

J.R.: I can’t believe I’m saying this, BUT JUST KILL HIM! FINISH HIM OFF!

As BODY STRUGGLES to get the HOOKS out of his BODY, Ren stands on his shoulders triumphantly. LEAPING INTO THE AIR, REN CRASHES DOWN ON FEET FIRST ON BODY’S HEAD. THE CHAINS SNAP AND BODY, HOOKS AND ALL, ARE SENT PLUMMETING INTO THE POOL OF LEAD. REN HANGS VICTORIOUSLY FROM A CHAIN.

J.R.: ARES IN THE SKY!

W.W.: NOW THAT WAS AN ASS KICKING!

J.R.: FOLKS, BODY IS DEAD, AND REN ALEXANDER IS YOUR WINNER!

LIGHTNING: AND YOUR WINNER … REEEEEEN ALEXAAANDE-

CORPORAL BODY EXPLODES UPWARD FROM THE SEA OF LEAD, SCREAMING HIS FUCKING HEAD OFF AND HIS EYE SOCKETS. HIS SKIN HAS PEELED OFF AND ALL THAT’S LEFT IS THE BLOODY MUSCLE EXPOSED TO THE AIR.

J.R.: BODY! BODY! HE’S STILL ALIVE!!

W.W.: FUUUUUCK!

REN IS TOO STUNNED TO MOVE. BODY BRINGS HIS LEAD-SOAKED FISTS AND SENDS THEM CRASHING INTO REN’S SKULL.

J.R.: HAM FIST! GOD DAMNIT, THE MATCH IS OVER AND BODY IS STILL OUT FOR BLOOD!

Ren SLUMPS LIFELESSLY and FALLS FROM THE CHAINS. By sheer face, his WRIST is IMPALED by a HOOK and the MOMENTUM SENDS HIM SWINGING out of the POOL. Snapping back to CONSCIOUSNESS, Ren yanks the hook from his wrist and drops to the dirt safely. Body swings from chain to chain until crashing outside the ring. HE STANDS THERE, HIS FLESH SIZZLING AND HIS EYES MISSING, FUELED BY RAGE.

W.W.: HE’S GOING TO KILL HIM! REN’S GONNA DIE!

BODY TAKES A FEW STEPS then FALLS FORWARD. Ren looks at Body stunned and climbs to his feet shaken.

“This is the kind of monster the world has produced the five years I was gone, “ he mutters to himself.

J.R.: Although Ren did win, he doesn’t look like a winner to me, Warrior.

[Ryoko's Biatch]

J.R.: Bloody ball sacks and rattlin' rectums, this match could be an interesting one!

WW: What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

J.R.: Oh, the ball sacks thing? I'm just trying something new, you know, not dilute the whole "Bah Gawd" thing.

WW: I see. Well, speaking of ball sacks, this Doolittle guy needs one. I mean, who the fuck is this faggot limey? Sorry, Jim, but I've never met a Brit who WASN'T a queer. I mean, let's go down the list. Elton John? Huge queer. Boy George? Queer. Prince Charles and his faggot sons are all queers. I guess the main point I'm trying to make is that America is the only country on Earth that has the FUCKING TESTICLES to stand up to the p/c liberal queer media. I bet you didn't know that so-called "Great" Britain allows "gay" marriage. The term gay, I don't like it. It's a soft-porn prophylactic to mask the truly degenerate nature of a lifestyle, if you can call what they do a life at all, that is harmful to the moral fiber of not only this nation, but every country in the world. Let's be honest, when you breathe the air that tastes of crimson and iron, your soul is hardened and your mind grows furious and powerful. I know in my heart that pumps the red blood of true violence that no matter what you do, crashing a plane on my head, shooting me with a cannon, stabbing me with a serrated blade made of the bones of TRUE FUCKING WARRIORS, I WILL NEVER BE HARMED BY SUCH PETTY FAGGOTS WHO DON'T KNOW THE WAY OF THE MIND OF THE WARRIOR. A WARRIOR IS A MAN WHO CAN LOOK INTO THE SKY AND SEE BATTLE AND DEATH AND IN THAT DEATH HE SEES LIFE. HIS LIFE IS COMBAT AND THE CLASHING OF FISTS COATED IN THE BLOOD OF THOUSANDS. I TELL YOU, HULK HOGAN, WHEN I MEET YOU AT WRESTLEMANIA YOU WILL CRY LIKE A BABY WHEN MY SCREAMS OF UNFATHOMABLE HORROR REACH YOUR EARS AND YOU WILL FEAR ME AND FEAR ALL WARRIORS AS THEY CHASE YOU FROM ONE END OF THE EARTH TO THE OTHER AND YOUR EYES WILL BLEED.

J.R.: Wow.

WW: What I'm getting at is I think Nick Sparta, an All-American boy, will win this match today.

J.R.: Let's go to Emperor Lightning as he's about to spin the Wheel of Fatality.

Doolittle and Nick Sparta are led to the ring in shackles by guys dressed like that albino inquisitor from Berserk from opposite ends of the arena. When the fighters reach the edge of the ring, their escorts force them to face Emperor Caligula Lightning and bow.

Caligula takes a sip of blood from his golden chalice as Junior Bruce Junior pushes the Wheel of Fatality next to Caligula's throne. Caligula lazily taps the wheel, which spins at mach 2. He notices that it will never stop at this rate, so he grabs on of his attendants, a busty but not particularly attractive young woman, and smashes her face into it, sending chunks of flesh and bone flying out. The wheel finally stops and he drops the girl with the ruined face on the ground. Caligula wipes the blood away with his thumb to read the match type.

"Geh heh, excellent." Caligula stands to address the audience. "People of the great and eternal Holy Lightning Empire, stand and honor these men who are going to spill their blood for you tonight. Blood will most definitely be shed." The unruly mob cheers. "Yes, yes. I present you with Doolittle and Nicholas Sparta. Those who are about to die return your salute." Nick and Doolittle are forced to stand and bow to the crowd, then pushed back to their knees facing Caligula. "This shall be a HANDCUFF MATCH. At my signal, my gladiators may begin."

The two fighters are unshackled and tossed into the ring. Inside, they're shackled again, this time by the wrist and to each other. Of course, this would be fucking boring except that a pit filled with terrifying No Man's Land beasts forms a moat around the ring!

J.R.: Bah the Native Americans of Oklahoma, it's a damn handcuff match! Nick Sparta and Doolittle are going to be handcuffed together until one of them dies or Caligula calls off the fight!

WW: Yeah, that one is worse than bloody balls.

J.R.: This is a damn serious situation for Nick Sparta, Warrior. It completely neutralizes his range advantage! Doolittle has been trained by one of the foremost experts in hand-to-hand combat in Professor Higgins, Sparta may not have a damn chance in hell of winning!

WW: I have to disagree, Doolittle still sucks.

Caligula shouts, "ENOUGH TALK, HAVE AT YOU!" and throws his chalice to the ground, shattering it.

Nick Sparta tries to leap back, but Doolittle pulls the chain and Nick along with it and clotheslines Sparta to the mat. Doolittle grins until he's pulled down with Sparta, falling on his face and ripping his pants.

J.R.: Maybe Doolittle's training wasn't as good as we've been led to believe.

WW: Duhhhhh.

Rolling over, Nick starts choking Doolittle with the chain. Nick cocks his free hand back and let's loose his science/magic punch, but Doolittle rolls slightly out of the path of the blow, punching a hole through the canvas. Then, using his photon powers channeled through his feet, he leaps thirty goddamn feet in the air and spins the chain over his head. As he nears to bottom, he throws Doolittle down as a shield and the impact causes the entire fucking ring to explode, sending shards of metal and shit zooming through the air and decapitating and disemboweling people or whatever is awesome.

J.R.: BAH THE HAIRY BALLS OF CALIGULA, THE GODDAMN RING EXPLODED!

WW: Sorry, shit still sucks, but, I have to say, the way that those people were decapitated and disemboweled was awesome.

Nick Sparta stands, pushing the remains of the ring off of his back. Then he lifts the bruised and bloody Doolittle up by the handcuff that chains them together. With his free hand he starts making rapid one inch punches.

"ATATATATATATATATATATA!"

Indentations appear all over Doolittle's body with each photon punch. When Nick finally stops, Doolittle falls to his knees.

"If only you understood physics, you'd know what was going to kill you."

Doolittle looks up with a defiance, "I'sa knowin' one ting, mate. Yer a bloomin' cunt, I says," and then spits blood in Nick's face.

Pissed, Sparta pulls his fist back for a right hook and the killing blow, but Doolittle ducks and a fan thirty feet behind him has his chest explode. Nick watches in shock as his nose is fucking shattered by a headbutt! Nick stumbles back and then Doolittle headbutts him again! While Sparta is still off balance, Doolittle puts him into a reverse headlock and then performs a devastating DDT!

J.R.: What a display by Doolittle! I haven't seen fighting like that since the FT-

WW: SHUT THE FUCK UP.

J.R.: I mean, I haven't seen that ever!

"Ya right bastard, I'sa show ya a ting a' two 'bout fightin'."

Doolittle ducks under Nick's arm, twisting it and then side kicks Nick in the face.

"I'sa 'elp ya a lit'l," Doolittle says, lifting Nick back up by their shackled wrists. "Oops-a-dais, watch yer footin', dis 'ere floor a might slippy," and then he punches Nick back down.

J.R.: Doolittle is getting a little cocky here! But by all rights he should be, Nick Sparta can't even fight back!

WW: Whatever. You can't ever count out an American.

"Lemme show ya a new move da 'fessa taugh' me. It'sa good one, I says, but yeh c'n make a judgment a yer own." Doolittle pulls Nick's head between his legs.

J.R.: Bah the hoary hosts of Hoggoth, Doolittle is about to powerbomb Nick Sparta! Stop the damn match, he's gonna kill him!

WW: FUUUUUUUUUUUCK!

Doolittle raises Nick up on his shoulders, but then loses his grip so that Nick headbutts him, knocking them both down. When Nick hits the floor, he coughs blood, which coats his face. He thinks to himself I need to recharge my power, but if I do, he might actually kill me. I'm just going to have to take this beating until I figure something out. Nick finds himself standing up again, when a knee catches his broken nose. His head is flung back, but Doolittle once again keeps him from falling with the handcuffs and then headbutts him down. He finishes the combo with an elbow drop, but he doesn't even hit Sparta at all.

Caligula grinds his teeth. If any of these fans survive, he's going to have to have them killed.

After getting Sparta back on his feet by grabbing his hair, Doolittle spears Nick and lifts him up, then dropping Nick's balls on his knee! Doolittle stops Nick from falling again and then Irish whips him, forgetting that they're handcuffed together. And there aren't any fucking ropes! They both go running toward the pit and fall over the edge. Doolittle closes his eyes, knowing he's about to fucking die from being devoured by goddamned fucking abominations in the eyes of GOD. When he doesn't immediately get torn to shreds he opens his eyes and he's FUCKING FLOATING OUTSIDE OF THE MONSTERS' REACH.

J.R.: What the hell is going on!

WW: Jim, look in the stands!

J.R.: It's goddamned-

AL SPARTA HOLDS HIS ARM OUT IN FRONT OF HIM AND THEN RAISES HIS HAND SLIGHTLY, TOSSING HIS BROTHER AND DOOLITTLE INTO THE AIR. Al smiles for a second and then passes out.

J.R.: This can't be legal!

Caligula shrugs and says, "Like I give a shit."

This turn of events shocks the shit out of Doolittle as they soar through the air, headed toward the top of the building. Nick opens his eyes and stares into Doolittle's with RAW INTENSITY and terror grips Doolittle's jobbing heart. He tries to gouge out Nick's eyes, but they're moving so fast that he can't raise his arms with the air resistance!

"Dis's blinkin' madness!"

"THIS IS SPARTAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

NICK DOES A FLIP AND KICKS DOOLITTLE IN HIS GODDAMNED FUCKING ASS FACE SO HARD THAT THE HANDCUFFS BREAK INTO PIECES. JUST BEFORE DOOLITTLE CAN HIT THE CONCRETE FLOOR, NICK'S BACK HITS THE ROOF OF THE ARENA AND HE SHOOTS HIS FIST OUT AND FIRES A BLAST OF ELECTROMAGNETIC POWER, SENDING DOOLITTLE CRASHING TO THE GROUND AT BREAKNECK SPEED AND FORMING A CRATER THAT FILLS THE WHOLE CENTER OF THE ARENA. IMMEDIATELY THE ENTIRE ROOF EXPLODES AND THE NO MAN'S LAND ANIMALS ARE ALL REDUCED TO RADIOACTIVE SLIME BY THE CONCUSSION WHILE J.R.'S CHEEKS EXPAND AND FLAP AROUND FROM THE AIR PRESSURE, HIS LIPS FORMING THE WORDS "BAH GAWD" BUT THE NOISE IS SO LOUD NOT EVEN HE CAN HEAR HIMSELF. J.R.'S HAT AND THE PEOPLE SEATED NEARBY ARE SENT FLYING OUT OF THEIR SEATS AND INTO THE WALLS, THEIR BODIES PAINTING THE BUILDING RED.

The middle of the arena is covered in a thick cloud of smoke. After several minutes, Caligula starts a slow clap. When the applause starts to spread to the eight survivors, Nick Sparta steps out of the billowing dust and throws Doolittle's unconscious body at Caligula's feet. Then Nick, his body spent, falls next to him.

"I'm surprised," Caligula smirks, "The little faggot survived without his brother. Kind of. Congratulations, you have entertained me and earned another day of life!"

Warrior stands on the announcer's table completely nude, snorting loudly.

J.R.: Uh, I think ... Jesus. Nick Sparta wins.

[Big Fagot]

WHACK!

A cleaver comes down against a block of wood, carried by a huge right hand that looks like a rack of ribs. A young man screams.

"The punishment for refusal to rape is ..."

"FUCK!! YOU CHOPPED OFF MY DICK!!!"

Another giant hand picks up a severed penis from the chopping block. We follow the hand as it plants it up against the wall and hammers a nail into it.

"The punishment for interrupting the emperor ..."

We see that Caligula himself is the owner of those meaty hands!

"Is death!"

Caligula pushes the young man over a railing. He falls two stories while screaming onto a giant device that looks like a wastebasket shredder. When he hits, a bunch of ratlike servants turn a huge crank to operate the device, sucking him down and mutilating his body.

"Let the Wheel Of Fatality decide the destiny of these warriors!"

A HUGE CHEER CARRIES US TO THE RING WHERE AXELROD WAYLYN AND GLORIOUS TITAN ARE ALREADY IN THEIR CORNERS.

The wheel is a large painted slab of iron attached to the wall of Caligula's balcony. It is radially divided into segments with things written on them. The deceased's dick is positioned at the top, choosing a fate the same way modern men choose their mates. Caligula spins the wheel, which weighs several tons just to be manly. The prongs slap the fresh meat repeatedly, creating a noise which delights all of creation. Eventually it slows down enough to read the entries on the wheel as they go past: cosplay battle; poison eating contest; arm wrestling knife fight; switch faces; snakes in assholes. The demonic wheel at last comes to rest:

LEECHES

WW: Pretty straightforward!

A catwalk lowers to about 20 feet above the ring. A couple of slaves and dozens of steel buckets are on it.

JR: I think I see where this is going!

"This should be fun for a little while," muses Axelrod.

"I envy you," answers Titan. "I hope I can one day die under such auspicious circumstances!"

"Let the games begin!" proclaims the emperor, smashing his gong with a club. Only, instead of an actual gong, it's a bunch of people clinging to each other who scream when hit, because that was cheaper than an actual disk of metal.

Axelrod Waylyn and Glorious Titan run to the center of the ring and lock up. Wet black blobs rain down all around them.

WW: Leeches, JR!

JR: These are authentic Neo-American leeches from the swamps of No Man's Land! They're three times as large as normal leeches!

Glorious Titan puts a knee in Axel's stomach and punches him in the jaw. Axel stumbles back and leans against the ropes. A leech bites his leg. "Fuckin' chickenshit, fuck it, shit, fuck it, shit!" He rips it off, but Titan kicks him in the face!

JR: That leech bite is bad news! In addition to sucking blood, the anesthetic in their saliva is a hallucinogenic!

Axelrod swings his guitar pick fingers at Titan, but Titan grabs his shield and blocks!

"ARGH!" screams Axelrod, cradling his fingers.

Glorious Titan pulls out his axe and swings, but Axelrod rolls to the side. He has to pull a leech off his back.

JR: It doesn't look like Caligula is going to object to Titan's use of weapons.

Caligula is sucking the meat off an alligator bone.

WW: I guess that's that! It's officially kosher!

Titan is about to swing again but a horn sounds and stops him!

JR: Time for stage two of the match!

A stagehand on the catwalk picks up a heavy cardboard crate, rips open the corner, upturns it, and starts shaking. Pencil sized silver rods begin pouring out.

WW: Those aren't leeches!

JR: I wouldn't be too sure!

Several of the rods land on Waylyn and Titan, penetrating their skin. Blood pours out of the ends!

WW: They're hollow to allow blood to spray out! Caligula is a genius!

JR: All hail Caligula.

Titan puts his shield above his head like an umbrella! Just like that, he has nothing to worry about! Waylyn continues dodging and pulling the rods out of his skin. Titan swings his axe, but Axelrod jumps back and bounces off the ropes. He bounces back and kicks Titan in the face! Titan's massive body (not massive compared to the superlative omnibeings of the FTUW, but pretty damn massive) is knocked back! He swings again, but Axel grabs the handle of the axe and punches him in the stomach!

"You could really use that shield to defend yourself!" quips Axel mockingly. He pulls a leech off his ankle. Titan says nothing as hollow rods rain down on his steel parasol. Then, the horn sounds again!

JR: Time for the final round!

Axel and Titan both jump back to avoid being crushed! A human-sized wooden crate drops down into the center of the ring! It pops open and hundreds of vampire bats pour out!

WW: The interpretation of leeches is getting pretty lax!

The bats swarm around Axel and Titan! Waylyn grabs the top rope and plays it with his guitar picks at a super-audible frequency, repelling the bats! Glorious Titan swats them away using his shield and axe as giant batswatters.

Axel runs at Titan through the cloud of bats and punches him in the mouth! The impact is so severe that a shockwave disperses the bats, sending them to attack patrons in the audience. He punches with his other hand and connects again!

WW: Glorious Titan is on the defensive!

Axel throws Titan into the ropes and clotheslines him! Titan chops up all the leeches around him before they can reach his flesh. Axel pulls another one off his shin.

Axel and Titan run at each other! Axel attacks with his guitar picks, but Titan blocks with his shield again! Axel punches with his other hand but Titan blocks with his forearm!

JR: Axelrod Waylyn is defenseless!

Glorious Titan swings his axe down and buries it in Axelrod's fucking chest!

WW: FUCK!

Axelrod looks down at the axe sticking out of his god damn chest! The wound squirts blood!

"Shit ..."

"Where you go now," says Glorious Titan, "I cannot follow. This time period may not have a warrior capable of giving me death ..."

Axel grabs the axe with both hands and pulls it out. Blood sprays everywhere.

JR: I can't look ...

WW: *masturbates voraciously*

Then, the wound begins to heal! The sternum seals and the skin closes right before Axel's eyes!

"What sort of demon ...!"

"I don't know what's happening to me," says Axel, "but I guess this is my encore!"

Waylyn uppercuts Titan in the chin so hard his heels lift up! Titan kicks but Waylyn jumps out of the way and kicks his knee out! With Titan down on his broken knee, Axelrod kicks him in the balls ferociously!

"AARRGH!"

Axelrod puts his left hand delicately on Titan's forehead, winds up, and devours his face with a right straight, sending him to the mat.

JR: Looks like that's it

Axelrod stands straddling Titan's semiconscious body and unzips his pants. "You want my blood?" he asks. "I'll give you a different liquid ..."

WW: What's going on here, JR?

JR: It looks like Waylyn is hallucinating!



Hallucinating?

Axelrod looks down and sees himself holding out his dick. Then he looks back up.

Glorious Titan is standing right in front of him!

He looks back down. There are leeches all over his legs!

He looks up again. Glorious Titan has his arm outstretched ...

He looks down ...

The axe is still in his fucking chest!

JR: Waylyn doesn't know what's going on! His blood pressure is low and those leeches are injecting him with drugs! He can't fight!

Axelrod stumbles away with the axe still in his chest. Glorious Titan raises his arms in victory. The bloodthirsty crowd cheers! Axel coughs blood.

As Axel pulls the leeches off his legs, Titan comes forward to smash him with his shield, but Axel stumbles away. He turns around and tries to dig his guitar picks into Titan's neck, but Titan swats him away easily.

JR: Someone needs to call this match before Waylyn gets killed!

WW: Shut the fuck up, JR! Just think of it as a nature show! The wrestler in his wild habitat. You wouldn't interfere with nature, would you?

Axelrod goes to kick Titan in the nuts but Titan knocks him over! With the axe still sticking out of his chest, Titan plants his foot on it!

"AAAUGH!"

Glorious Titan then moves his foot to Axelrod's right elbow. He raises his shield above his hand and brings it down on Axel's wrist, severing it!

WW: Waylyn's guitar pick hand is gone!

JR: This is a massacre!

Titan then raises his shield again. "Die well," he offers.

"Fuck you, spits Waylyn."

Titan brings down his shield and decapitates Axelrod Waylyn!

JR: This is too brutal.

Titan does laps around the ring as fans throw roses. Someone throws in a guitar for him to play! He grips it right handedly.

"No, no," says Axelrod, standing behind him. "Play left handed. I don't want to take that from you."

WW: What's going on?

JR: Titan hasn't moved since Axelrod put his hand on his shoulder!

Axelrod Waylyn has his guitar pick fingers in Glorious Titan's neck! With the axe still in his chest, he stands behind him as Titan's eyes glisten! "Those drugs would have been more of a problem for anyone else, but drugs and rock and roll are part of my lifestyle," he whispers. "And to paraphrase the old saying, this next part will be better than sex ..."

JR: Waylyn is playing his nerve endings! Now Titan's the one who's hallucinating!

"Your dream is good, but reality is bad. Why is one more important than the other? There's no reason to be all good or all bad. The only things that require complete dedication are rock ..."

Waylyn pulls the axe out of his chest and puts it in Titan's right hand! With his free hand he holds the wound in his chest closed!

"... and wrestling!"

Titan on his imaginary guitar, and Axel with his opponent's nerves, begin simultaneously rocking! Throughout the arena, a rock remix of the theme from Ryu's stage in Street Fighter 2 is heard!

Glorious Titan wails on his axe! He scrapes off the first layer of skin on the blade! On the next strum, he scrapes off more flesh! In the dream world, women throw their underwear into the ring! In the real world, more of his hand is sliced off! The fans both in the real world and in Titan's fantasy go insane! Titan goes wild! Blood is everywhere! His hand is whittled down! The song reaches a crescendo! Fans kill each other in ecstasy!

WW: Look at that fucking shit!

JR: What has Axelrod Waylyn done!

With the song over, Glorious Titan's left hand is gone! At his feet lies a pile of his own flesh that looks like shaved deli meat!

"Give yourself a hand ..." Axelrod pulls his fingers out of Titan's neck and walks away, holding his chest wound closed. Glorious Titan collapses.

WW: I don't think he can fight anymore.

JR: Winner, Axelrod Waylyn!

[Spamdini]

A spotlight shines on the entranceway to the ring. A loud, gospel-sounding, organ version of God Bless America is played by a hunched over old black lady. Uncle Slam flies into the ring on a jetpack that spews out red, white and blue smoke and poses in the center. Reverend Zeebo Sykes is carried to the ring fixed to a cross, which is being carried by a Jew that has been beaten to near death and is wearing a crown of thorns. Upon arriving at the ring, Sykes bursts off the cross and crushes the Jew with the cross.

R. Lightning: This is a tag team contest scheduled for one fall! In the ring, representing the nation of Nouveau-Richonia but both hailing from the United States of America, the Reverend Zeebo Sykes and Uncle Slam! CHURCH AND STATE!

The indecipherable sound of twelve instruments playing at the same time rings throughout the arena. Jazz Fantastic tips a hat over his eyes as he slowly meanders to the ring, instrument in hand.

R. Lightning: And their opponents! First, weighing in at 230 pounds, JAZZ FANTASTIC!

The crowd is impressed with Jazz’s subtle, yet elegant way of carrying himself to the ring. The momentum of crowd approval slowly shifts from Church and State to him, until…

Illusionist: OH GOD, LOOK OUT!

The Illusionist, seemingly being dragged through the air by his magic wand, crashes right in the center of the ring while gothic druids sing The Final Countdown. As he lies there upside-down, many of his trick cards, handkerchiefs and so forth fall out of his pockets and onto the mat. A pigeon flies out of his jacket, lays an egg on his head, then leaves. The crowd boos heavily.

Crowd goon 1: YOU AIN’T NO CHAMP! YOU’RE A HACK!

Crowd goon 2: JUST DIE ALREADY!

Crowd goon 3: JAZZ FANTASTIC MUST BE ANOUTHER FAG LIKE HIM! KILL THEM, CRUCH AND STATE!

R. Lightning: And his partner, weighing in and 201 pounds, the winner of Abhorrent Anathema’s chariot race, THE ILLUSIONIST!

Kimchi runs into the ring and helps his master to his feet. Caligula finishes kitting a lovely sweater…OUT OF PEOPLE(!!!)…when he turns to address the crowd.

Caligula: This match…is a tag match!

JR: What a stipulation, Warrior!

Caligula: The reverend was also kind enough to ask for another stipulation in order to help The Illusionist out.

JR: Now why would he want t help his opponent out?

Warrior: Zeebo Sykes is a God fearing man of the cloth! He’s the type of noble person you never get to see in these deathmatches. I applaud his altruistic behavior and all you rag and beanie-wearing pagans out there better take a lesson from this man!

Caligula: Since Reverend Sykes’ followers number in the thousands and The Illusionist followers rank in the single digits, to make things even all outsiders are barred from ringside! Everyone clear your faggot asses out!

Kimchi nods to his master and starts to walk away.

Uncle Slam: Wait! Everyone has to leave! Take HIM with you!

Slam points to the Dilettante’s FUCKING SKULL as he says this.

Jazz Fantastic: Now just you wait! That’s a skull! It ain’t alive!

Uncle Slam: Then why does the idiot talk to it?

Caligula thinks it over for a moment while drinking a barrel of grain alcohol. After careful consideration, he nods in agreement. A dejected Kimchi reluctantly takes the skull with him as he leaves. The Illusionist stretches his arm out for his precious late partner’s remains while the referee, who is a robot made of knives, forces Jazz Fantastic to the ring apron since The Illusionist is forced to start off by order of Lord Caligula. Zeebo Sykes starts off for Church & State. Before Vic Powers even know what’s going on, the bell rings and he takes a punch to the jaw! A lone tooth flies out of his mouth and into the crowd. Panicked, the Illusionist scrambles to pick up his trick items, but is kicked in the chin and falls flat on his back.

Jazz Fantastic: Pay attention, Victor! This guy’s tough, but you can beat him! Think back to how you’ve won before!

Illusionist: Y…yeah…

Actually, he’s not sure he can win without the Dilettante’s FUCKING SKULL. Lacking in confidence, he gets to his feet and slowly inches towards Reverend Sykes. Sykes merely smiles and jumps into the air. He spreads his arms upwards, looking to all the world like Jesus ascending to Heaven.

Warrior: God…so beautiful! Like a queer getting run over by a monster truck with tires made of skulls.

Tucking himself up like a ball, Sykes spins rapidly and flies towards The Illusionist. Powers is so panicked that he can’t even move his body out of the way!

Jazz Fantastic: What’re you doing Vic? Look out!

But the Illusionist can’t hear anything but the sound of his own heart thumping. Sykes’ Holy Roller connects full on, sending the frightened magician back down to the mat. Sykes poses to the crowd and they begin to hoot and holler for him. He tags out to Uncle Slam who climbs to the top rope and elbow drops the fallen Illusionist. He writhes in pain on the mat, not showing any resistance to the attacks.

Jazz Fantastic: Vic! Snap out of it! Fight!

Tears and snot streams down the Illusionist’s face.

Illusionist: Please…let’s go home! I don’t want to do this anymore!

Jazz Fantastic: Dammit, what about your father?!

Illusionist: F…father?

Uncle Slam picks Vic Powers up by the hair and spits in his eyes. As the saliva stings him, the Illusionist feels one punch after the other connect with his face, bruising it all over and busting him open. After a couple minutes, Uncle Slam stops and examines his handiwork. One eye is now shut and blood flows readily from Powers’ lower lip and nose. Disgusted with this pathetic excuse for a man, he flips him over and prepares for a tombstone piledriver!

But something’s odd! Uncle Slam feels himself walking against his will. Not walking so much as…dancing?! Jazz Fantastic is busting out a bodacious sax solo that causes the All-American muscle machine to begin to shake his thing towards his opponent’s corner! Once he’s close enough, Jazz stops playing and punches Uncle Slam to the ground!

TAG! Jazz Fantastic tags himself in and leaps into the ring. Uncle Slam gets up only to be met with a flurry of new punches! As the blows are raining down, Reverend Sykes sees trouble brewing and charges into the ring. But Jazz sees him coming and elbows the reverend in the face! Church & State are both reeling! Jazz Fantastic clotheslines them both to the ground! He then climbs the turnbuckle and leaps through the air, stomping both of them in the chest! The crowd cheers Jazz Fantastic’s awesome 1-on-2 assault!

JR: Incredible! Jazz Fantastic is holding his own against both of these wrestling titans at once! What a display of heroism!

Warrior: Hmph, well he’s certainly better at wrestling than music. Guess he should have left The Illusionist at home.

Uncle Slam tries to get up to counterattack, but Jazz Fantastic keeps stomping all over his chest!

Jazz Fantastic: WHEN THE SAINTS COME MARCHING IN!

Slam is buried under a downpour of stomps and begins to fade in and out of consciousness! However, Reverend Sykes comes to his sense in time and grabs Jazz by the head, reverse DDTing him into the ground. Uncle Slam groggily stumbles back into his corner and lets Sykes take his place in the ring.

The reverend takes to the air again and performs another Holy Roller! Jazz puts up his arms to block, but the spinning power is too much and his guard is blown away! He’s hit by the attack and stumbles back a few steps! Acting like a pinball, Zeebo Sykes uses the ring ropes to bounces back and forth, smashing Jazz with each successive bounce! The Illusionist has come to his sense enough to see what’s going on.

Illusionist: J…Jazz…

Sykes uses the rope and bounces high into the air! He increases the speed of his spin even more and aims his sights right at Jazz Fantastic who is located directly below him!

JR: BAH GAWD! He’s gonna squash him into an Oklahoma pancake!

Sykes flies straight down at breakneak speeds! This is it for Jazz Fantastic! NO! Jazz’s eyes light up and he grins as he backflips out of the way of the Holy Roller! Reverend Sykes crashes into the mat at full speed! He lies on the mat, wounded all over! Jazz grabs him by the legs and uses a modified suplex to slam his face into the mat, further beating him up!

Jazz is clearly on the advantage now! He is in the process of pounding the reverend in the back of the head as he lies belly down on the ground, causing his face to repeatedly smash into the mat. Uncle Slam jumps in the ring to intervene with a dropkick, but Jazz catches him by the legs and spins him around with a giant swing! After building up enough momentum, he lets go releasing Uncle Slam high into the air!

Jazz Fantastic: STARDUST!

Uncle Slam hits the ceiling of the arena hard, and plummets back down to the ground, which he also hits forcefully. Uncle Slam is out cold.

JR: One down! One more to go!

Jazz Fantastic picks Zeebo Sykes up by the feet and swings him around as well! He uses Stardust and releases the reverend high into the air!

JR: THAT’S IT! IT’S OVER! JAZZ FANTASTIC JUST DEFEATED CHURCH & STATE ALL BY HIMSELF!

But Sykes doesn’t crash into the ceiling! No! In fact, he regains control of his ascent and instead of crashing, he is able to kick off of the ceiling! He uses the added speed of doing so in order to fuel another super fast Holy Roller! Jazz Fantastic is caught off guard and is drilled super hard! Blood bursts from his chest from being hit by the equivalent of a cannonball at point blank!

Illusionist: Oh no!

Sykes rubs his sore body while pressing his heel into Jazz’s open chest wounds.

Sykes: Cursed sinner! You will not even be given the chance to repent!

Using a dropkick, Sykes sends Jazz Fantastic into the ring ropes, bouncing him high into the air! The reverend jumps up after him and locks in…THE HOLY DRIVER! Sykes has Jazz Fantastic upside down with his feet under Jazz’s armpits, locking him in the mightiest piledriver God has to offer!

JR: HOLY DRIVER! HE’S GONNA KILL HIM!

Warrior: Best finisher name ever!

Jazz Fantastic closes his eyes and sighs.

Jazz: I’m sorry Victor. Seems like I couldn’t win us this one. But don’t forget your mission. I’ll be watching to see you and your father together again one day, so you’d better not die on me!

Illusionist: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!

BOOM!

The crowd looks on in silent awe! Zeebo Sykes…HAS JUST BEEN DROPKICKED IN MID-AIR BY THE ILLUSIONIST! Vic Powers doesn’t land properly however and crashes face first into the mat. He gets up defiantly, however. Jazz lands harmlessly and Zeebo Sykes flips to his feet, shaking his fist angrily.

Sykes: Foolish heathen! Do you really think you stand a chance against God’s messenger without your pitiful skull?! You are nothing!

Vic Power’s knees are shaking, but he keeps standing upright in the middle of the ring.

Illusionist: I…I am pathetic. I’ll never be the success my father was, but…I can’t just let you hurt my friend! We’re both going to accomplish our dreams you…you…MISCREANT!

The crowd is still booing the shit out of The Illusionist, but he stops listening. Sykes charges in a rage, but Jazz Fantastic stop him with a kick to the knee! The reverend grips his leg in pain and Jazz runs behind him!

Jazz: NOW VIC!

Illusionist: R…right!

The Illusionist waves his magic wand a box pops out of the ground.

Warrior: What the hell? Is My Head Hurts 90 back?!

The box opens up and Jazz Fantastic kicks the reverend into it! The box closes and Sykes struggles to free himself. The Illusionist pulls a sword out of his mouth (only cutting himself a little) and uses it to slice the box in half! He then pulls the two sections of the box apart to show that Zeebo Sykes has in fact been cut in two!

JR: BAH GAWD! IT’S THE SEPARATION OF CHURCH & STATE! HE’S CUT THE MAN IN HALF!

Warrior: Fuck! Leave it to liberal entertainment queers to kill a priest for the sake of their communist propaganda!

Jazz Fantastic smiles and walks over to his friend to congratulate him on the victory. HOWEVER(!), he arches back in pain as a Stars and Stripes Slash cuts his back wide open! Uncle Slam is conscious again and breathing hard. Jazz bleeds profusely from his back, but still finds the strength to spin around to punch Uncle Slam in response. Slam ducks down to dodge and uses his Ric Flair-like chops to slice open Jazz’s chest in a similar manner. The Illusionist takes a while to notice since he’s still shocked by the fact that he got his magic trick to work.

Illusionist: J…Jazz!

Sykes: Confound it, Slam! Put me back together!

Warrior: What the hell? Reverend Sykes is still alive?!

Unfortunately for the Illusionist, his magic box and sword only separate his opponent in half. They don’t kill him. His upper half launches itself out of the box and puts Powers in a sleeper hold. While The Illusionist panics like his usual self, the lower half leaps out and kicks him in the groin repeatedly. It’s not long before The Illusionist is on the ground, foaming at the mouth and out like a light. Using the magic box, Ulncle Slam helps put his tag partner back together. Church & State look at each other and nod. They uppercut The Illusionist into the air and Sykes jumps up after him! It’s the Holy Driver! He’s got the Holy Driver set up on The Illusionist! Uncle Slam puts Jazz Fantastic in a tombstone position and does a backflip, landing on his stars and stripes hat. Fireworks explode from the hat, sending him straight up in the air with a tombstone piledriver being applied on his opponent!

JR: BAH GAWD! BAH GAWD! GOD BLESS AMERICA! GOD BLESS AMERICA! GOD BLESS AMERICA! THEY’RE GONNA BE PILEDRIVEN INTO EACH OTHER!

Vic Powers fades in and out of consciousness. He can’t move a muscle and know he and his partner are doomed. Out of the corner of his eye, however, he sees a man smoking in the entranceway to the ring. The man’s face is shadowed, but he can see a mustache and a sneer on his face. From his lips, he can just read what he is saying.

“Still so pathetic, Victor?”

The Illusionist’s eyes snap open and glow! His suit begins to tear as his muscles bulge! Uncle Slam looks up and sees the hulking out Illusionist and begins to feel a bit panicked, but Sykes is undeterred.

Sykes: Too late, sinner! Die!

CRASH! GOD BLESS AMERICA CONNECTS! BOTH ILLUSIONIST AND JAZZ FANTASTIC EXPLODE FROM THE IMPACT!

Explode into a flock of doves that is!

JR: WHAT IS HELL?! IS IT ETERNAL TORTURE IN ANOTHER REALM OF REALITY OR IS IT THE EXISTANCE THAT WE LIVE EVERY DAY BAH GAWD THEY JUST EXPLODED INTO DOVES!

Confused, Church & State land on the mat and look all around them. Suddenly, a lion leaps out of the crowd and tackles Church & State, clawing open their chests in the process. The lion flips through the air and morphs into The Illusionist and Jazz Fantastic! Jazz Fantastic tackles Uncle Slam and both men start trading blows outside of the ring. Reverend Sykes bites his lip in a fit while The Illusionist stands tall and proud in the center of the ring. Sykes goes for a punch, but a backhand collides with his cheek before it reaches its target. The reverend is send screeching across the mat and falls outside the ring from the impact! He climbs back in and charges and full speed, but a single hand holding his face stops his charge. The Illusionist grunts and slams Sykes’ head into the ground, HARD!

Sykes: How can…this be…

The Illusionist picks up Sykes by the head and prepares to finish his grossly outclassed opponent off when he feels something sharp. Reverend Sykes just used a dagger in the shape of a cross to stab him in the gut! Liquid life oozes from the wound as Vic Powers lurches over and vomits up some more blood. Using this opening, Sykes jumps on the Illusionist’s shoulders and applies the Conversion Chart! Both arms are pulled back as Sykes’ legs squeeze at his carotid arteries!

Sykes: I don’t expect you to convert, sinner! I’m just cleansing the devil from your body before I send your soul to Hell!

Vic Powers’ eyes slowly begin to stop glowing and his muscles start to recede as the oxygen is cut off from his brain. His shoulders strain as what’s left of his jacket is torn off of his body. Finally, his head droops as he can no longer stay awake. Not satisfied with a KO victory, Reverend Sykes releases the hold and uses the ring ropes to shoot the Illusionist into the air. For the third time this match, he’s got the Holy Driver on someone! Jazz Fantastic, who is still going toe-to-toe with Uncle Slam, can only watch on in horror.

Jazz: NO! VICTOR!

The Illusionist is unconscious and begins to dream.

“The name Victor Powers has been passed down from generation to generation. It’s the mark of a master illusionist and man of class.”

Young Illusionist: Wow! Like the guys on TV who perform tricks?

“Tricks? Heh, kid forget that magician garbage! That’s just for prissy idiots who like to use fake props and wear stupid hats. The Powers trademark is never tipping your hand. A flashy show is just the disguise; it’s not the main attraction! The little things that people don’t see is more important than what they do see! Use the skills you learned and the ones God gave you in order to get the advantage over the other guy. You got to remember that! ”

Young Illusionist: Little things they don’t see…

“C’mon, I’ll show you that card trick again!”

Vic Powers wakes up. He knows he’s in the Holy Driver but doesn’t have the strength left in order to escape the hold. His magic wand is still on the mat and his eyes aren’t glowing.

JR: THIS IS IT! HE CAN’T POWER OUT OF THE HOLY DRIVER! WE’VE SEEN THE LAST OF THE ILLUSIONIST!

As he falls, he thinks back on his father’s lesson. If he can’t do a big move to escape the hold…

Caligula finishes eating his steak (A 15 POUND STEAK MADE FROM A HIPPO) and picks his teeth in disgust. Guess he was wrong to think this fool could entertain him. Hoity von Toity also watches from his skybox. He tents his fingers and raises an eyebrow in interest.

von Toity: Well Mr. Powers, was I wrong in betting on you? Show me what you can do when it is all on the line…

Sykes grits his teeth intensely. The mat reaches ever closer! All eyes are on the two men and the deadly finisher! Sykes pushes down as hard as he can and screams a surprisingly unholy scream.

Sykes: DIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIE!!

CRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! THE HOLY DRIVER CONNECTS!

A giant cloud of dust is sent soaring up into the air from the impact and the ring fissures in multiple places! The whole crowd is on the edge of their seats as the moment they’ve been waiting for has finally come to pass! The Illusionist is motionless. Reverend Sykes hasn’t moved an inch either. Time seems to stop for a few seconds.

…

A FOUNTAIN OF BLOOD BURSTS FORTH! A speck of the blood lands on Caligula’s cheek. He licks it off and smiles.

“GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!”

Reverend Sykes collapses and grabs his knee, which is spewing copious amounts of blood. Aside from all the muscles and bones in his left knee being completely destroyed, the bone in his left shin is poking out of the skin. The Illusionist stands up and rubs his shoulders. He is mostly undamaged.

JR: WHAT THE NAME OF UNCLE JESSE DUKE?!

Warrior: Hm…Warrior is impressed.

JR: HUH?! You know what happened, Warrior?!

Warrior: The gods gave me divine eyes to see all! Let’s show a slo-mo replay!

The replay shows that just before the move connected, The Illusionist freed his right arm and wrapped it around Reverend Sykes’ left leg. He then subtly shifted his body weight so that all of the impact from the Holy Driver was shifted onto Sykes’ left leg when it hit the mat, causing it to break violently.

JR: I…IT’S SLIGHT OF HAND! AMAZING!

The crowd is now cheering The Illusionist’s name. Uncle Slam flies into the ring after being tossed by Jazz Fantastic. Both Church & State are unable to get up. After picking up his wand, The Illusionist waves it around, causing Zeebo Sykes to begin levitating! Jazz Fantastic picks up his sax and begins playing another song, causing Uncle Slam to spasm and fly into the air as well! Jazz and Powers jump into the air and jump on the back of their respective opponents and begin riding them like a magic carpet, each with a foot on their guy’s head. Using their respective tools of manipulation, they fly Church & State towards each other at 100 mph!

The Illusionist: GRAND…

Jazz Fantastic: …FINALE!

SMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK! Sykes and Uncle Slam’s foreheads collide as they are flown into each other! Blood splatters everywhere as both men’s pupils dilate. The Illusionist and Jazz jump off and land on the mat below. Church & State crash down after them. They are motionless. Caligula grins and waves his hand, signaling that the match is over! The crowd erupts into cheers, chanting the names of The Illusionist and Jazz Fantastic.

JR: IT’S OVER! IT’S OVER! IT’S OVER! THE TAG TEAM OF THE ILLUSIONIST AND JAZZ FANTASTIC PICK UP THE WIN WITH THE GRAND FINALE!!!

R. Lightning: Here are your winners, Jazz Fantastic and THE ILLUUUUUUUUUUUUUUSIONIST!

Roses, women and slabs of meat are thrown into the ring as prizes for the winners. They wave to the crowd and bow respectively for their win. The Illusionist, however, turns his head towards the ring entrance. There’s no one there anymore.

Illusionist: It couldn’t have been…is he really here too?

In von Toity’s skybox, he smiles broadly while sipping a $1000 mint julep.

Von Toity: Never thought I’d be this happy so be on the losing team. Ha ha, but the wise investor always holds onto the big stops rather than go for the short-term gain. So I take it you had a part in his turnaround victory?

The shadowed man is sitting at the entrance to the skybox, still smoking and smiling.

???: Well, I did what you asked me too. Gotta say that he surprised me a little.

Von Toity: If all goes according to plan, he will continue to surprise you. You know the next plan of action. Get to it!

The shadowed man walks away mysteriously.

???: Well Vic, maybe you’re less of a loser than I thought. Guess you finally learned how to grow up. I think I’ll pay you a visit and give you a little…family loving.

[Vinny]

J.R.: What an incredible match!

W.W.: Fuck you, Jim. It was terrible. Why is it that people the I like so much always fucking losing? At least I can breathe easy knowing there's absolutely no way whatsoever that LUNAR PLEXUS is going to do lose tonight!

J.R.: Next up we have Kanzaki Kenjiro against Alessandro Sparta. Both have magical powers of some sort, which is pretty standard for this era. Hopefully when one of them explodes and their guts fly around the ring, we’ll be able to discern why.

W.W.: Magic is for faggots. Plus, powers related to robotics, the undead, bullshit Eastern mysticism, and convoluted scientific explanations. All you need is MUSCLES.

J.R.: Right you are, Warrior. Now, our competitors are making their way to the ring.

LIGHTING: COMING TO THE RING FIRST, HAILING FROM TOKYO, JAPAN AND WEIGHING IN AT 230 POUNDS … KENJIROOOO KANZAAAAKI!

J.R.: Is Kenjiro his first name or last name?

W.W.: It’s his faggot name. He’s a faggot.

Burly men of mixed ethnicities pulls ropes and shit and lift up the steel gate. Kenjiro steps out into the Citadel arena floor with a single hand in his pocket and his neon belts flapping majestically. Pulling down the bill of his cap, he complains mildly about the circumstances he is in before leaping into the ring.

W.W.: He reminds me of that []that[] guy, back in []that[] federation.

J.R.: You mean Rakkyu Saketumi?

W.W.: No, Ken Tsunami.

LIGHTNING: AND HIS OPPONENT, HAILING FROM MARTINSVILLE, VIRGINIA AND WEIGHING IN AT 200 POUNDS … ALESSANDROOOO SPARTAAAAA!

J.R.: Up next is the Sparta brother with the beard! Nick Sparta was able to defeat his opponent successfully, I wonder if Al can do the same.

W.W.: Yes. Kenjiro is a slant fag.

J.R.: The caliber of color commentary is as refined as ever, Warrior.

Alessandro Sparta appears by using gravity to create a sink hole, then somehow popping out of that! Shit! He deftly leaps over the top ropes (which are made of ligaments, by the way) and lands in the center of the ring. Also, instead of rags, Alessandro is wearing a black trench coat and smoking a cigarette. In response, Kenjiro lights a cigarette of his own!

The referee checks the two fighters for weapons, and when he finds none he tapes maces to their backs. Caligula flicks a random slave into his giant gong and the match begins!

“I still affected by the injuries Nick Sparta sustained in his match …” Alessandro Sparta thinks to himself. “This isn’t good.” Once Sparta looks up, he sees KENJIRO FLYING AT HIM.

J.R.: And Kenjiro springs forward, ready to get this slobberknocker started!

The punch falls SHORT when Kenjiro unexpectedly hits the mat. Looking up, Kenjiro realizes he’s gotten heavier. His cigarette is yanked from his lip and hits the mat without bouncing.

“So, he can affect gravity,” Kenjiro deduces, “Well well … things are getting interesting.”

“Just take the pinfall and this will be over,” Al Sparta says with his arms outstretched. Slowly, Kenjiro crumples to his knees. Heavy beads of sweat fall from his face as he struggles to stand. He raises his hand towards Al Sparta but snaps to the ground, succumbing to the intense gravity.

W.W.: Fuck this. I want someone’s eyes to pop out of their sockets.

“That’s it. Just take it,” Alessandro Sparta says as something LOOMS IN THE BACKGROUND. Suddenly, the RING ROPE is pulled over his HEAD and LATCHES around his NECK. He is quickly FLUNG across the ring by the ROPE that was PULLED TAUT by a VACUUM created by Kenjiro!

“Grk!” Al collapses to the outside of the ring and rolls near the barricade, which is a five foot tall pile of rusty railroad spikes. As Alessandro Sparta tries to stand, Kenjiro leaps over the top rope and lands squarely on AL’S ANKLE. Alessandro’s cry of pain is cut short when Kenjiro grabs him by his curly black locks and yanks back his head.

“I figure if I stay on top of you, your gravity powers will effect you as well,” Kenjiro says, “Surrender or I’ll have to kill you.” Of course, the match has just started, so Kenjiro finds himself floating upwards along with Al Sparta! Beads of sweat pour from Al’s head and begin hovering.

J.R.: Kenjiro and Al Sparta are flying now! I have no idea why, but it’s at least something!

The black-haired Sparta slams his elbows into the sides of KENJIRO’S HEAD, the lax gravity sending Kenjiro BOUNDING up HIGHER in the CITADEL. Kenjiro WHIPS HIS HAND FORWARD and CUTS THE SPACE between the two of them with a VACUUM, bringing Al to him as if he were pulled by a tether. However, Al Sparta surprises KENJIRO with a DROP KICK to the FACE, knocking him up further!

W.W.: They gotta be TWENTY FEET above the ring, Jim! They gotta be fucked, they BETTER be fucked!

J.R.: Although I can’t comprehend what’s happening, it doesn’t look good for one of them, or both, fuck I don’t know.

The two trade blows in mid-air but find them to be somewhat ineffective as they can’t add power to their punches as they have nothing to push off of! Eventually, the two warriors cease to float up at all, and remain stationary in the center of the tower!

“ETERNAL LOOOOP!” KENJIRO SHOUTS, ASSAULTING AL SPARTA with RAPID-FIRE PUNCHES. Al Sparta SPINS OUT OF CONTROL and FLIES UPWARD, FASTER and FASTER as if he WERE FALLING UPWARD. Kenjiro watches in awe as Sparta lands FEET FIRST on the CEILING.

W.W.: What the fuck!

J.R.: He’s walking on the ceiling! And Kenjiro is still floating!

“You’re stuck being two forces of gravity now, Kenjiro!” Al Sparta exclaims from the ceiling, sweat sliding from his brow and pattering on the ceiling as he struggles to catch his breath, “I placed a field of gravity above us, on the ceiling, to keep us moving upwards, and now the Earth’s gravity and my gravity are keeping you suspended. But don’t worry, you’ll be falling back to the Earth soon enough.”

Al Sparta FLIPS in MID-AIR, and is suddenly righted, falling straight down. He softly lands on the house-sized chandelier hanging from Caligula’s tower. Kenjiro snaps from his suspended state and begins to fall backwards towards the ground.

J.R.: I think I heard the word gravity, Warrior!

W.W.: Shut the fuck up, Jim, something’s happening!

“Damnit,” Kenjiro creates VACUUM after VACUUM above his falling body in an attempt to slow his fall, but he STILL BOUNCES PAINFULLY OFF THE CANVAS, spilling blood from his MOUTH and fracturing some bones. He looks up weakly at the giant chandelier as he attempts to right himself.

“It’s your turn,” Al Sparta mutters, walking from rung to rung. Sitting right near the chain of the chandelier is NICK SPARTA. Al Sparta drops lifelessly and NICK SPARTA LEAPS TO HIS FEET.

J.R.: NICK SPARTA?! HE’S HERE? What in the name of God? That’s cheating!

W.W.: Cheating? THIS IS SPARTA!

NICK SPARTA TAKES IN A DEEP BREATH and CLOSES HIS EYES. Slowly, he lifts his arms out beside him as he concentrates. The GIGANTIC ICICLES beside him slowly begin to crack as he EXPANDS TINY FORCEFIELDS INSIDE THEM. ONE THEN DROPS, FALLING FIFTY FEET BEFORE CRASH LANDING INTO THE AUDIENCE, IMPALING AND CRUSHING A DOZEN FANS.

W.W.: THIS BRINGS ME BACK!

BOOM! Another handful of FANS turn to BLOOD as an ICICLE RAVAGES THEM. FIVE OR SIX MORE CRASH MORE IN THE AUDIENCE until ONE BLASTS THROUGH THE CORNER OF THE RING. KENJIRO ROLLS TO HIS FEET AND LOOKS UP TO SEE A FEW MORE FALLING TOWARDS HIM.

J.R.: THE SPARTA BOYS ARE GONNA TURN KENJIRO INTO A TERIYAKI SHISHKABOB!

“He’s going to kill everyone here if I don’t do something,” KENJIRO adjusts his CAP. A giant ICICLE CRASHES INTO THE RING, KENJIRO BARELY DODGING IT WITH A CARTWHEEL. Kenjiro LEAPS onto the ICICLE, LOOKS UP, and LEAPS TOWARDS THE SKY.

W.W.: IS THAT CHINK GOING TO START FLYING AGAIN?

KENJIRO STEPS ONTO A FALLING ICICLE, AND BEGINS *RUNNING* UP IT! Using VACUUMS positioned under his FEET, HE IS ABLE TO STICK TO THE ICICLE! Quickly, KENJIRO LEAPS FROM FALLING ICICLE TO FALLING ICICLE as he MAKES HIS WAY TOWARDS SPARTA.

“Little prick,” Nick Sparta mutters. HE WHIPS HIS HANDS DOWN, RELEASING A SHARP FORCE FIELD that CUTS THE ICICLE KENJIRO IS RUNNING ON IN HALF. Kenjiro springs off of it, BOUNCING OFF of another, and HEADS LIKE A BULLET TOWARDS THE CHANDELIER.

“TRY THIS ON FOR SIZE!” NICK SPARTA EXPLODES ONE MORE ICICLE OFF THE CEILING, SENDING IT ROCKETING TOWARDS KENJIRO. KENJIRO EYES WIDEN AS IT COLLIDES WITH HIM.

J.R.: KENJIRO … HE’S BEEN IMPALED BY THAT ICICLE!

Nick SPARTA pumps his FIST IN VICTORY until he hears a noise. A FAINT VOICE.

“ATATATATATATATA!” KENJIRO SCREAMS, BURSTING OUT OF THE ICICLE USING A FRENZY OF SUPER KICKS. An EXCLAMATION POINT pops over NICK’S HEAD as KENJIRO forms VACUUMS AT HIS FINGER TIPS and HURLS THE DOZENS AND DOZENS OF SHARDS AT ICE AT THE SPARTA! Nick DESPERATELY tries to FLING them away with a FORCE FIELD but he doesn’t have enough STRENGTH. HIS BODY IS REPEATEDLY IMPALED WITH THE ICE SHARDS, sending him crashing along top the CHANDELIER.

“What a fucking pain,” Kenjiro grabs a cigarette as blood pours down his forehead. ALESSANDRO SPARTA SUDDENLY SPRINGS ON HIM BEHIND, but KENJIRO BASHES HIM AGAINST A STEEL RUNG, SPLITTING OPEN HIS HEAD. “Nice try, but without your powers, you’re just human.” Al Sparta is bloody, his torso bleeding from the numerous shards of ice that stabbed his brother, and now the gushing wound from his head.

Kenjiro GRABS ALESSANDRO SPARTA by the COLLAR AND LIFTS HIM UP. “Give it up, you’ve lost,” Kenjiro tells him.

“Y-Y-You’re a faggot, Kenjiro …” Sparta says, before he passes out. RIGHT ON CUE, NICK SPARTA LIFTS UP A SINGLE ARM and CREATES A FIELD THAT SNAPS THE CHAIN OF THE CHANDELIER.

J.R.: THE CHANDELIER! THE CHANDELIER IS COMIN’ DOWN! CLEAR OUT OF THE WAY, FOLKS.

NICK SPARTA grabs AL and they leap OFF THE CHANDELIER and CRASH ONTO A NEARBY BALCONY. Kenjiro FOLLOWS, GRABBING ON THE EDGE of the BALCONY, AND SLOWLY PULLING HIMSELF UP. The chandelier ABOLISHES THE RING and the HUGE PIECES OF GLASS explode and PERFORATE the NEARBY CROWD.

Kenjiro looks through the densely-packed crowd, pushing away drunken blood-starved maniacs as he searches for his opponent. One fan attempts to CHALLENGE KENJIRO and attempts to stunner him, but KENJIRO merely steps on his KNEE during the INITIAL TOE KICK, snapping his leg in half. The fans then separate.

THEN KENJIRO SEES NICK SPARTA STUMBLING THROUGH THE CROWD. Kenjiro EYES GROW INTENSE and HE PULLS HIS HAND TO THE SIDE, creating spinning VACUUMS ALL AROUND HIS HAND.

“You aren’t getting away this time!” KENJIRO SHOUTS, IMPALING NICK SPARTA THROUGH THE CHEST!

J.R.: BAH GAWD! THAT’S IT! HE KILLED HIM!

W.W.: NOOOOOO!

NICK SPARTA’S HEART IS CLUTCHED IN KENJIRO’S HAND, EXPLODING AS A VACUUM TEARS IT APART FROM THE INSIDE. Nick slumps down on his arm, and his rags fall off, REVEALING HE’S ACTUALLY NOT NICK SPARTA! He’s just a BLONDE-HAIRED FAN wearing NICK’S ROBES!

“W-WHAT THE HELL?” KENJIRO THINKS. SLOWLY, ALESSANDRO SPARTA APPEARS FROM BEHIND, DIPPING DOWN FROM THE CEILING.

“Kenjiroooo …” he mutters. HE LEAPS HEAD FIRST FROM THE CEILING AND CROSS ARM BLOCKS KENJIRO IN THE THROAT, SLAMMING HIM INTO THE BALCONY FLOOR. BUT THAT’S NOT ALL, THEY FALL *THROUGH* THAT, AND THROUGH THE NEXT, AGAIN AND AGAIN BEFORE THEY REACH THE ARENA FLOOR, CRASHING FIVE STORIES.

Al Sparta rolls to his feet groggily, the FANS BREAKING HIS FALL. He turns to Kenjiro, who is lying on the ground, bloodied and unconscious. AL SPARTA GOES FOR THE PIN and the REFEREE DESPERATELY RUNS THROUGH THE CROWD.

OOOOOOOOOOOOONE!



TWOOOOOOOOOOOOO!



THR-KICKOUT! KENJIRO KICKED OUT!

J.R.: I CAN’T BELIEVE IT! Maybe he does have some Saketumi blood in him after all!

Alessandro Sparta picks Kenjiro up by his hair and DRIVES and ELBOW into his face. Kenjiro responds in KIND with a KNEE. THE TWO BEGIN FIGHTING their WAY THROUGH THE CROWD TOWARDS THE RING, both EXHAUSTED and SEVERELY HURT. Once they reach the RAILROAD SPIKE BARRIER, AL SPARTA NAILS KENJIRO IN THE CHEST WITH A KICK, sending Ken staggering into the SPIKES.

J.R.: That can’t feel good!

Kenjiro groans and slumps down on the barrier. As AL SPARTA GETS IN CLOSE, KENJIRO WHIPS HIS HANDS FORWARD, SENDING TWO SPIKES HURDLING TOWARDS AL. AL DROPS TO HIS KNEES ALMOST ACCIDENTALLY and the SPIKES BORE THROUGH TWO FANS.

KENJIRO RUSHES FORWARD and UNLEASHES a FEW KICKS to ALESSANDRO’S CHEST. SPARTA NAILS THREE CONSECUTIVE HEAD BUTTS before AXE HANDLING KENJIRO TO THE FLOOR. Kenjiro BREAKS HIS FALL with his HANDS and SOMERSAULTS FORWARD.

J.R.: WAIT A MINUTE, THIS IS-

KENJIRO EXPLODES FROM THE FLOOR WITH HIS FIST RISING UP. USING THE LAST BIT OF HIS KI, HE GOES FOR SAKETUMI’S FINISHING MOVE.

J.R.: THE FEELING OVER! THE FEELING OVER!

“SPARTAAAAAAAA!” KENJIRO CRIES. ALESSANDRO IS STUNNED, HIS BLACK LOCKS WAVING IN SLOW-MOTION. THE FIST’S ASCENT IS ACCOMPANIED BY THE SOUND OF A JET ENGINE AS IT ZEROES IN ON SPARTA’S JAW.

IT SAILS AND SAILS AND … CONNECTS!!

SPARTA’S EYES ROLL INTO THE BACK OF HIS HEAD … AND THEN HE SMILES. KENJIRO’S LEGS ARE SHAKING, THE CROWD AROUND THEM ARE ON THEIR KNEES. KENJIRO COULDN’T EXTEND HIS LEAP AS ALESSANDRO SPARTA HAD INCREASED THE GRAVITY!

J.R.: NO! DAMNIT, SPARTA GOT HIM!

W.W.: YES! HAHAHA!

“NOW IT’S OVER!” SPARTA SHOUTS. HE SURROUNDS HIMSELF WITH A GRAVITIC FIELD AND BEGINS SPINNING. USING THE REMAINING BIT OF HIS POWER, HE MANIPULATES THE SPACE AROUND HIM. “FRAAAAME DRAAAG!”

THE FANS AROUND HIM START GUSHING BLOOD FROM THEIR ORIFICES. KENJIRO STUMBLES FORWARD A BIT, AND THEN NUMEROUS CUTS OPEN UP IN HIS BODY. HE FALLS BACKWARDS, DEFEATED.

AL SPARTA DROPS FORWARD ON TOP OF HIM. THE REFEREE COUNTS!

OOOOOOOOOOONE!



TWOOOOOOOOOOO!



THREEEEEEEEEEEE! AL SPARTA WINS!

J.R.: INCREDIBLE! AL SPARTA WINS! WHAT ABILITY!

W.W.: YEAAAH, FUCK KENJIRO! GO BACK TO JAPAN AND LIVE IN YOUR CUM HOUSE, YOU CUM EATER!

[Vinny]

J.R.: I’m really impressed that Caligula had a spare ring, with ligament ropes and skull turnbuckles and everything, ready just in case it was destroyed. Now, with the icicles mostly melted and the chandelier cleaned up, we’re ready for our next match!

Lightning: COMING TO THE RING FIRST, HAILING FROM PARTS AND TIME UNKNOWN AND WEIGHING 27.85 STONES … THRAAAAAAK!

Thrak lifts up the IRON GATE and walks slowly into the arena, his knuckles hanging inches away from the ground. The crowd responds favorably to him, and Thrak enjoys the attention. He walks over a woman in tattered shirt that says SLUT and rips off her clothes and begins fucking her, but it’s consensual since everyone loves Thrak.

W.W.: Thrak’s a cool guy, Jim. Backstage I saw him pelt this totally nerdy guy with a ferret and made him look like a bitch. Then I high-fived him.

J.R.: Thrak, who apparently is a caveman who has been hurdled through time, has adapted to our time fairly smoothly it seems, although America today is more like the Jurassic era than it was three years ago.

Some fans clamor for a picture with Thrak, and when the flashbulb goes off he begins bashing their skulls together while hooting.

Lightning: AND HIS OPPONENT, HAILING FROM LAS VEGAS, NEVADA AND WEIGHING IN AT 190 POUNDS … DEEEIMOOOOOS!

W.W.: Now Deimos’ magical bullshit I can handle. A hole opens up, a gun comes out, and he shoots a fucker. None of this turning into confetti gay faggot shit.

Deimos opens up a portal and drops into the ring, because hey, why not? He cracks his neck with his single remaining arm and stares down the caveman.

J.R.: Look at the size difference, Warrior! Thrak is even taller than Deimos and he’s hunched over!

AND THE BELL SOUNDS. Even Thrak understands what that means, EVIDENCED by him HITTING THE ROPES IMMEDIATELY. Stretching so far that the LIGAMENT ROPES ALMOST SNAP, THRAK FLINGS HIMSELF FORWARD AND TUCKS HIMSELF INTO A BALL! HE SPINS RAPIDLY WHILE SCREAMING “AWOOOOOOH!”

J.R.: THE ROLLING STONE! HE’S GOING FOR IT OFF THE BAT!

WHOOSH! DEIMOS DROPS FLAT ON THE GROUND and the SPINNING MEAT BALL SOARS OVERHEAD, WHIPPING THROUGH THE ROPES AND CRASHING INTO THE CROWD. Thrak ROLLS AROUND for a few MORE MOMENTS, TRAMPLING FANS, before popping out of the ball and VOMITING ONTO SOME CHICK’S CLEAVAGE. Then he savagely fucks her.

W.W.: BITCHIN’!

Deimos opens a PORTAL with his GLOVED HAND and whips out a .357 MAGNUM. He pops a few fans in the head while trying to blast the Thrak who is busy pleasuring a woman with his Cro-Magnon cock. A bullet turns her skull inside out and Thrak continues thrust into her limp body until he’s climaxed.

W.W.: I’m glad, for her sake, that she died. Any child spawned from Thrak virile seed would have surely uppercutted through her uterus.

J.R.: I’m not even sure if their DNA is compatible.

W.W.: Please, Jim. Mulattos are living proof of how adaptable human genetics are.

A bullet strikes Thrak in the shoulder, spraying a mist of blood into the air. Thrak, his savage lust satiated, he flips over top the barrier and BOUNDS INTO THE RING. Immediately THRAK begins SPINNING WITH ARMS OUTSTRETCHED, executing a SPINNING LARIAT. Deimos rolls along the ground, dodging the attack, and fires off the last of his bullets. It strikes his cheek but Thrak merely ignores it, hitting the nearest ring post like a PINBALL and heading back towards Deimos.

“This one is going to kill you, I can tell,” a voice tells Deimos.

“Shut your fucking mouth,” Deimos says, opening a portal and dropping his revolver. He reaches in and yanks out a battle axe.

J.R.: Unbelievable! Deimos just reached inside what I believe was an interdimensional rift of some sort that allowed him his hand to traverse space instantaneously so he could retrieve that battle axe!

W.W.: Yeah, Jim, welcome to last week.

WHOOSH! The BATTLE AXE cuts off a section of THRAK’S COARSE, GREASY HAIR as he DUCKS. Deimos swings a few more times, hitting nothing, before THRAK grips the BLADE between this PALMS. Suddenly, Thrak begins RUBBING HIS PALMS against the BLADE FURIOUSLY, producing sparks! Deimos is blinded by the light and THRAK seizes the OPPORTUNITY to execute a BULLDOG that slams him into the ground.

J.R.: Wait a minute, what’s THAT MANEUVER?

THRAK LEAPS ONTO DEIMOS BACK and GRABS HIS LEGS. He YANKS THEM UP and EXECUTES A BOSTON CRAB!

J.R.: Amazing! How could THRAK learn that technique?

W.W.: You’re pushing your luck, Jim.

AS DEIMOS can FEEL THE MUSCLES IN HIS BACK STRETCHING TO THE LIMIT, he slams his HAND onto the MAT and FORCES OPEN A PORTAL. It spreads out beneath him and the two FALL THROUGH.

W.W.: Where the HELL DID THEY GO?

J.R.: BAH GAWD, THE BASTARD’S HEEEERE!

“FUNGYAAAAH!” THRAK SHOUTS, EXPLODING FROM UNDERNEATH THE ANNOUNCE TABLE while DEIMOS IS ON HIS BACK, APPLYING A CHOKEHOLD WITH HIS SINGLE ARM.

W.W.: YEAH, YEAH, FUCKIN’ KILL HIM!

WARRIOR WARRIOR UNCONTROLLABLY PUMPS HIS FISTS as he TRIES TO INHALE THE SMELL OF COMBAT while THRAK AND DEIMOS BATTLE IN FRONT OF HIM. Thrak SNAPMARES DEIMOS OVER HIS SHOULDERS, sending him CLEAR OVER J.R. and into the STONE WALL just below Caligula’s personal box.

Boom. Boom. Boom. Deimos shakes his head and opens his eyes to see Thrak bounding towards him, DRAGGING HIS BONERANG. Before DEIMOS can WHIP OUT AN UZI, the BONERANG FLIES FORWARD AND SLAMS INTO HIS NECK!

W.W.: Motherfucking of Mary!

THE HEAD OF DEIMOS BOUNCES ALONG THE GROUND AND THRAK CRUSHES IT UNDER HIS CALLOUSED HEEL … OR SO IT SEEMS! Thrak is surprised to find no blood and only sees the FLATTENED HELMET stuck to his FOOT. Looking up, DEIMOS IS GONE!

J.R.: THERE! THERE HE IS!

BLOOD SPRAYS INTO THE AIR as DEIMOS DROPS FROM A PORTAL AND DRIVES A SPEAR INTO THRAK’S BACK. As THRAK HOWLS IN PAIN, Deimos reaches into the PORTAL ABOVE HIM and grabs what ever WEAPON HE CAN. SWORD, DAGGER, HATCHET, MACE. HE DRIVES THEM ALL INTO THRAK’S RIDICULOUS HUGE BACK. BUT EVEN AFTER THAT, THRAK CONTINUES TO STAND, DESPERATELY TRYING TO SWAT DEIMOS AWAY.

W.W.: Come on, Thrak! Show him what a man with hair covering 90% of his body can do!

“Awooooh!” Thrak cries. He finally grabs DEIMOS’ HELMETLESS HEAD and BODY SLAMS HIM ONTO THE CONCRETE. DEIMOS, SHAKEN, LOOKS UP TO SEE THRAK DROPPING HIS BONERANG ON TOP OF HIM. Deimos ROLLS OUT OF THE WAY from having his TORSO CRUSHED. Deimos ROLLS REPEATEDLY from THRAK’S RELENTLESS SWINGING OF THE BONE BOOMERANG as it TEARS UP THE STONE FLOOR. Deimos KIPS to HIS FEET while THRAK HURLS the BONERANG at HIM. DEIMOS VAULTS OVER IT, THE BOOMERANG EMBEDDING ITSELF INTO THE WALL, AND LEAPS OFF IT TO CLIMB INTO CALIGULA’S BOX.

W.W.: Oh shit.

J.R.: DEIMOS IS HEADING INTO CALIGULA’S BOX, FOLKS! He’ll get the hell out of there if he knows what’s good for him!

Deimos leaps over the railing and is IMMEDIATELY ATTACKED by two GUARDS carrying broadswords. He calmly executes both with pistol shots and continues moving while Caligula chews on a living lamb.

“Ho ho ho, what have we here?” Caligula smiles. Deimos ignores him and attempts to open up another portal, but can’t manage it. A SURGE OF PAIN SHOOTS through his ARM and he DROPS TO HIS KNEES.

“What the hell have you done, DEMON?” DEIMOS MUTTERS.

“You’ve used that ability far too much …” the demon rasps. “My power has been drained. If you kill more, the glove will grow strong again.” Deimos sees more guards approaching and raises his gun. Click. Looking over the balcony, he sees THRAK DIGGING HIS FINGERS INTO THE STONE AND CLIMBING UP TOWARDS HIM.

“It seems I’ll be free of you soon enough,” the demon cackles. Deimos grits his teeth and grabs the sword laying at his feet. HE IMMEDIATELY SPRINGS FORWARD and JAMS IT THROUGH THE NEAREST’S GUARDS THROAT. Pushing him towards the rest, HE USES THE GUARD’S BODY as a SHIELD as he IMPALES TWO MORE. Sharp pains SHOOT THROUGH HIS BACK as two more STAB HIM WITH SPEARS.

“Fuck …” he spits up blood. He yanks the SWORD OUT and CLEAVES the TWO OFFENDING SOLDIERS. “IS THAT ENOUGH?”

“Hahaha, almost …” the demon laughs. DEIMOS sees a group of APPROACHING GUARDS and GRABS THE NEAREST ONE BY HIS SHIRT. Flipping him over his SHOULDER, he TOSSES HIM AT THRAK who is STILL CLIMBING.

“GOOH!” THRAK CATCHES THE FALLING MAN OUT OF MID-AIR AND SLAMS HIS HEAD INTO THE WALL, OBLITERATING IT, BEFORE DROPPING THE CORPSE IN FRONT OF J.R. AND WARRIOR.

J.R.: FOLKS, WE CAN’T SEE UP THERE, BUT IT LOOKS LIKE DEIMOS IS TOSSING BODIES AT THRAK NOW!

Deimos HURLS A FEW MORE POOR SOLDIERS off the BALCONY before they OVERTAKE HIM. GETTING BASHED IN THE FACE with a SHIELD, DEIMOS FALLS BACKWARDS AND LANDS ON THE SWORD AND DAGGER JUTTING FROM THRAK’S BACK. AS MORE FLESH IS TORN, THRAK HOWLS IN PAIN AS THE WEAPONS ARE RIPPED OUT.

J.R.: WE’RE GETTING A FIRST TASTE OF THE ACTION HERE FOLKS, AND I DO MEAN TASTE. I JUST GOT A LITTLE OF THRAK’S BLOOD IN MY MOUTH.

“You fucking bastard!” DEIMOS TAKES THE SWORD TORN from THRAK’S BACK AND PUTS IT AGAINST HIS THROAT. THRAK POUNCES OFF THE WALL WITH DEIMOS STILL STRADDLING HIM, CRUSHING DEIMOS INTO THE STONE FLOOR BELOW!

W.W.: THAT’S GOTTA BE IT! HURRY YOUR ASS UP, REFEREE!

The REFEREE enters and vanishes into the crowd, coming out seconds later covered in blood and missing his shirt. HE DROPS TO THE GROUND BESIDE THE ANNOUNCE TABLE AND COUNTS.


OOOOOOOOOONE!!



TWOOOOOOOOOO!!



KICKOUT!

Thrak rolls off of Deimos, holding his bleeding back and shaking his head.

J.R.: I don’t even think Thrak knew he was pinning Deimos!

Feeling the wounds Deimos left on his back, he turns a stone face towards Deimos and reaches into his caveman utility belt. He pulls out a small stone bottle wrapped in grass. Tearing the grass off, he opens the bottle and pulls out a small, white worm.

W.W.: What the fuck is that?

J.R.: Whatever it is, it ain’t barbeque!

Thrak grabs DEIMOS by the THROAT with ONE HAND and LIFTS THE WORM with the other. He brings it up to Deimos’ head and it SUDDENLY LEAPS INTO DEIMOS’ EARS. DEIMOS’ EYES IMMEDIATELY SNAP OPEN AS HE FEELS THE CREATURE BITING AWAY AT HIS EAR DRUM.

“GAAAAH!” DEIMOS SCREAMS.

J.R.: IT’S A CARNIVOROUS EAR WIG!

DEIMOS HOLDS HIS HEAD AS THE CREATURES BORES IT’S WAY IN. HE TURNS TO THRAK WHO IS CHUCKLING A PRIMITIVE CHUCKLE WHILE POINTING AT HIM. SOON DEIMOS FEELS BLOOD RUSHING TO HIS HEAD AND PRESSURE BUILDING BEHIND HIS EYES. HE TRIES TO DIG INTO HIS EAR WITH HIS FINGER BUT CAN’T QUITE GET IT.

“You look like your in trouble,” Deimos can hear the demon say over the SCREECHING OF THE WORM.

“HELP ME! GET IT OUT!” DEIMOS SCREAMS, BLOOD POURING FROM HIS NOSE.

“Do it yourself. You have the ability,” the demon repeats.

THE ABILITY. DEIMOS LIFTS HIS FINGER UP TO HIS FOREHEAD AND ATTEMPTS TO CREATE A PORTAL. A BLACK SPACE OPENS UP BRIEFLY BEFORE SLAMMING SHUT, SENDING PAIN BLASTING THROUGH HIS ARM. The demon laughs his ass off.

“HOW MANY MORE!” DEIMOS CRIES.

”One. One should be enough,” the demon tells him. Deimos SNATCHES THE SWORD AT HIS FEET AND CHARGES AT JIM ROSS!

J.R.: AND DEIMOS IS … BAH GAWD!

THE BLADE COMES DOWN ON J.R.’S HEAD BUT IS STOPPED BY WARRIOR WARRIOR’S HAND. WARRIOR SNATCHES AWAY THE SWORD AND CLOTHESLINES DEIMOS OFF HIS FEET.

W.W.: STOP FUCKING AROUND, KID.

“You don’t have much time …” the demon repeats. THE PAIN IN DEIMOS’ SKULL HA GROWN MORE INTENSE NOW. HE DIVES INTO THE AUDIENCE, SWINGING HIS SWORD WILDLY BUT MANAGING NOT TO HIT ANYONE.

“JUST ONE! JUST ONE MORE!” HE SHOUTS, SWINGING HIS BLADE AT FANS. FINALLY HE TACKLES A YOUNG CHILD AND REPEATEDLY BASHES HIS HEAD IN WITH THE END OF THE HANDLE OF HIS SWORD. THE DEMON DEVOURS THE SOUL AND THE GLOVE ONCE AGAIN GAINS POWER.

“Only a few more seconds,” the demon whispers. DEIMOS OPENS A PORTAL IN FRONT OF HIS FACE AND DRIVES HIS HAND IN. HE THEN ATTEMPTS TO PERFORM BRAIN SURGERY WITH HIS INDEX FINGER AND THUMB.

“OH, and I’d watch out for that guy,” the demon says. Deimos LOOKS UP TO SEE THRAK HURLING A BLINDINGLY FAST CLOTHESLINE. DEIMOS DUCKS and HIS FINGERS TOUCH THE SIDE, CAUSING A LEG TO SPASM. HE SCOOTS BACKWARDS AS HIS FINGERNAILS GRIP THE TIP OF THE WORM. THRAK SMASHES THE GROUND OVER AND OVER, TRYING TO NAIL DEIMOS, AS DEIMOS CAREFULLY EXTRACTS THE WORM.

“THERE!” DEIMOS SAYS, YANKING THE WORM FROM THE PORTAL AND HURLING IT AT THRAK. THRAK MERELY SQUASHES IT BETWEEN HIS HANDS AND CONTINUES CHARGING.

Deimos SLIDES out of the way and NAILS A SWEEP KICK that SENDS THE BURLY THRAK CRASHING TO THE GROUND. He leaps onto THRAK’S BACK and GRABS TWO HORNET’S NESTS STRAPPED TO HIS UTILITY BELT. But instead of SMASHING THEM INTO HIM, HE TOSSES THEM INTO THE CROWD. The HORNETS BURST FROM THEIR HIVES and START FUCKING THE CROWD UP.

J.R.: HORNETS!

W.W.: Man, the crowd is fucked.

Numerous fans begin to SWELL UP as PUS squirts from their EARS. DEIMOS BOUNDS over PEOPLE as WAVE AFTER WAVE of FAN CRASHES TO THE GROUND, HOLDING THEIR THROATS AS THEY TURN PURPLE. Deimos JUMPS OFF ONE MAN’S SHOULDER AND LONG JUMPS INTO THE RING, CRASHING ONTO HIS SHOULDER AND SLAMMING INTO THE RING POST.

J.R.: IS THRAK DEAD? WHAT’S GOING ON

“DO I HAVE ENOUGH?” DEIMOS SHOUTS.

“You have more than enough,” the demon replies.

“GOOD, I’M BRINGING OUT THE WHOLE FUCKING PAYLOAD,” DEIMOS SAYS, OPENING A HUGE PORTAL BEHIND HIM.

“AWOOOOOOOOOOH!” DEIMOS HEARS THRAK SHOUT. HE TURNS HIS HEAD TO SEE HIM FLYING AT HIM LIKE A CANNON BALL.

J.R.: ROLLING STONE! ROLLING STONE!

“GOD FUCKING DAMNIT,” DEIMOS CURSES. THRAK BURSTS THROUGH THE ROPES AND FLIES STRAIGHT FOR DEIMOS. AT THE LAST SECOND, DEIMOS DROPS TO HIS BACK AND THE CAVEBALL FLIES PAST HIM AND *INTO* THE PORTAL!

W.W.: THRAK … JUST VANISHED!

DEIMOS LOOKS ON IN UTTER SURPRISE. WITHOUT A SECOND TO SPARE, HE CLOSES HIS FIST AND THE PORTAL BEGINS TO SHRINK.

“You lucky son of a bitch,” the demon mutters to him.

THEN SUDDENLY A HAND BURSTS FROM THE PORTAL. THE PORTAL CLOSES AROUND THE EDGES OF THE HAND AND STOPS. THE HAND JERKS UP AND THE FORCE CAUSES THE PORTAL TO RE-OPEN. STEPPING OUT OF THE PORTAL IS THRAK, CARRYING LIKE TEN FUCKING GUNS AND WEARING BANDOLIERS CONTAINING HUNDREDS OF BULLETS. ALSO, HE’S GOT A FUCKING BANDANA ON.

“Oog,” he mutters as he aims a grenade launcher at Deimos and fires.

J.R.: I don’t even know what to say! THRAK has just exited that PORTAL with enough weapons to take out a small army!

Deimos ROLLS FROM THE EXPLOSION and slides into a ring post. He crawls on his hands and knees and bullets WHIZ through the air and EXPLOSIONS going off near him.

“Maybe you aren’t so lucky after-“

“SHUT THE FUCK UP, MOTHERFUCKER!” Deimos shouts, sliding out of the ring and watching from the apron. THRAK IS MINDLESSLY SPINNING, FIRING AMMO INTO THE AIR AND KILLING DOZENS OF FANS. “Those are my guns, do the kills still count?”

“You know that’s not how it works,” the demon tells him.

“Then I have only enough power for one last move,” Deimos says, SLIDING BACK INTO THE RING.

J.R.: HE’S GOING FOR HIM! THIS MAY BE DEIMOS’ LAST STAND!

AS BULLETS FLY BY HIM, DEIMOS CHARGES DIRECTLY AT THRAK. THRAK AIMS AN ASSAULT RIFLE AND FIRES AWAY BUT DEIMOS DODGES TO THE SIDE. ONCE IN RANGE, DEIMOS GRIPS THRAK BY THE NECK.

J.R.: HE’S GOING FOR THE CHOKESLAM! CAN HE DO IT!

HE ATTEMPTS TO LIFT THRAK OFF THE GROUND BUT HE DOESN’T HAVE THE STRENGTH. THRAK THEN WRAPS A MIGHTY HUGE HAND AROUND DEIMOS’ SKULL AND TIGHTENS HIS GRIP.

W.W.: NOW THRAK IS GOING FOR THE CHOKESLAM!

THRAK EASILY OVERPOWERS DEIMOS AND LEAPS TEN FEET INTO THE GODDAMNED AIR. WITH DEIMOS’ BACK TO THE MAT AND THRAK’S HAND SQUEEZING HIS FACE, THEY DESCEND.

J.R.: BLAST FROM THE PAST!!

NO!! DEIMOS OPENS UP A PORTAL AND THRAK AND DEIMOS FALL IN! THE PORTAL RE-OPENS A SECOND LATER IN THE EXACT SPOT, BUT WITH THRAK’S BACK FACING THE MAT AND DEIMOS ON TOP!

W.W.: THE CHOKESLAM! I CAN’T BELIEVE IT!

BOOOOM! THRAK IS NEARLY BURIED IN THE MAT FROM THAT EXTREMELY POWERFUL CHOKESLAM. WITH DEIMOS NEARLY UNCONSCIOUS ON TOP OF THRAK, THE REFEREE SLIDES IN!

OOOOOOOOOONE!



TWOOOOOOOOOO!



THREEEEEEEEEEEE! DEIMOS WINS!

J.R.: HE DID IT! UNBELIEVABLE!

[Ryoko's Biatch]

J.R.: Well, Warrior, it's time for the main event. Lunar Plexus, verifiable man-god, up against Super Agent Harry Underwood.

WW: Lunar Plexus was impressive in his bloodsport debut, but I also like Underwood because he was an agent for the CIA or some equally great American institution. The details are hazy, but it's good enough for me. Still, Lunar Plexus reminds me of myself at his age, so he's going to win. Especially the giant dick part. No amount of patriotism or bear power can add up to the strength of a huge dick.

J.R.: Indeed, Warrior, it should be a real slobber-knocker, that's for sure!

WW: Oh, by the way, Jim, I wrote out some new exclamations for you to try out.

J.R.: Let's see ... Bah the blood red moon in the eyes of a warrior?

WW: That's a good one! I might steal it back from you.

J.R.: This is ridiculous!

WW: Ridiculously awesome.

J.R.: Let's just start the damn match.

Caligula Lightning scratches his ass and then walks to the edge of his luxury box. He uses a human femur as a toothpick to dislodge another human femur stuck between his teeth.

"I welcome you all to the main event of my Slaughter Serenade, where the symphony you have all been party to reaches its grand climax! I ask you to extend the same good will to my warriors. Entering first, the destroyer of the town of Arkard, known to fucking idiots as the Moonlight Slasher, LUUUUUNAR PLEEEEXUS!"

All bloodsport participants are supposed to be escorted by armed guards, and Plexus is, momentarily, but they annoy him so he smashes one's head into his torso and the rest scamper off like pussies. Plexus pushes the ring ropes down with one hand and then steps over them.

"And the challenger, one of history's most renowned super agents, the slaughterer of bears and cereal-themed monsters, HAAAAAAAAAARRY UNDERWOOD!"

Suddenly Harry Underwood appears in the ring, though no one is really sure how he got there. It's probably because he's such a fucking good super agent.

J.R.: Wow, would ya look at that!

WW: Eh, Lunar Plexus killed a guy in his entrance. This is kind of lame in comparison.

"LET THE MURDERING BEGIN!" Caligula pulls the string on a cannon and a pregnant woman with dynamite strapped to her shoots out and then explodes over the ring. The fans ooh and aw while the fighters prepare to fight.

Harry Underwood circles Lunar Plexus, sizing up his opponent. Plexus yawns, waiting for this faggot dance to end. Leaping from behind Plexus, Underwood wraps his arms around the tree trunk under Lunar's knee, his fingers digging into the steely flesh.

"Yeah, that Waylyn guy tried something like that last time. I was expecting a little more this time," Plexus says, swatting at his leg to knock Harry away.

"ARGH, I'M NOT A PUSSY LIKE THAT FAGGOT." HARRY UNDERWOOD LIFTS LUNAR PLEXUS FROM THE GROUND AND SPINS HIM ABOVE HIS HEAD.

J.R.: Hmm ... Warrior's giant dick in orbit, Harry Underwood just lifted up the giant Lunar Plexus! Wait, that's terrible.

WW: Terribly good! Oh yeah, and my allegiance with America has been reinforced by this display of manliness.

Underwood throws Plexus high above his head, impaling him on one of the icicles on the ceiling. Lunar gasps as the icicle breaks and he falls to the ground, and right into Underwood's outstretched fist, holding the giant's body like Goku did to Nappa.

WW: Shit! He fucking killed Lunar Plexus in one goddamn move! FUCK!

J.R.: This is unprecedented in the history of the F-

WW: No.

J.R.: No?

WW: It's just plain unprecedented. Period. End of goddamned sentence.

The fans are stunned to silence. A crooked grin spreads across Caligula's face. The ass half of a cow is in one of his hands and he rips it in half, then pops the half in his mouth. Harry, not even breathing hard, drops Lunar Plexus behind him and then dusts off his suit. Agents Mike and Rick start leaping out of their seats, creaming their fucking pants. Their excitement spreads and raucous cheers break out.

"Wait," Harry says raising a hand.

Agents Mike and Rick look at each other. Mike says, "But he won, didn't he?"

Rick slaps Mike in the back of the head. "He's saying he wants to save the celebration for later when we get the hookers, you fucking moron."

"No," Underwood says enigmatically, "It's not over."

AND LUNAR PLEXUS GRABS HIM BY THE SHOULDER THEN JAMS THE ICICLE THROUGH UNDERWOOD'S BACK, IMPALING HIM.

J.R.: Jesus God Almighty, I need to contain my fucking emotions or else I'm going to vomit up all of the blood in my body. I don't know how Plexus survived that utter devastation at Underwood's hands and then KILLED Underwood!

WW: I mentioned that Lunar Plexus has a giant cock, right?

"Ugh," Plexus mumbles, "That actually fucking hurt." He drops the icicle to feel the hole in his body, checking his vital organs. When he looks back down at the icicle, he notices that it's impaling a small boy. Plexus' eyes grow wide. "R- Replacement jutsu!"

HARRY UNDERWOOD FALLS OUT OF THE SKY AND DROPS HIS ELBOWS ON BOTH OF LUNAR PLEXUS' SHOULDERS, KNOCKING THEM BOTH HARD TO THE CANVAS, MAKING THE RING EXPLODE!

J.R.: Uhng, hrgk, f-fuck.

WW: Giant dicks or America? Which is truly the most powerful? I ... I don't know if I can stand watching this, but I have to know.

Harry rises to his feet first, breathing hard. I can't let Plexus know that he did stab me before I could pull off the replacement, he tells himself, feeling the dampness on his back. He's much faster than I anticipa- AND THEN LUNAR PLEXUS UPPERCUTS HIM FROM THE RUBBLE AT FULL STRENGTH, EXPLODING HARRY'S SHIRT AND SENDING HIM SAILING THROUGH THE AIR. Harry keeps rolling backward and on one flips sees the spiked wall of the arena behind him. He tries to control his roll and kicks his legs out against the wall and stopping him with an inch between a spike and his gut.

J.R.: These two aren't pulling any punches, literally! Every attack they make is all or nothing!

WW: It's ... AWAKENING THE WARRIOR WITHIN ME. JIM, THE STARS HAVE ALIGNED THEMSELVES THAT I MAY DIE IN COMBAT WITH MY HEAD AND MY BALLS AIMED HIGH WITHIN THEIR BRIGHT LIGHT AND THAT GOD WILL WITNESS MY DEMISE.

J.R.: What?

Plexus stomps toward Underwood with one arm hanging limp from his shoulder being dislocated. Swinging his arm and then grabbing it between his legs, he grunts and pushes the socket back in place. He stretches it out, but it's still sore.

"Okay, kid, time to say goodbye," Plexus says. In front of him, Harry finally pushes himself back on his feet.

Harry charges straight for Plexus and then ducks under a lightning fast left hook. "GOODBYE!" Plexus tries to turn around, but Harry is already behind him, putting him in a goddamn sleeper hold!

"Pedestrian," Lunar says after he grips Harry's wrists and pulls them away from his neck. But just when he thinks he's free, Underwood hooks his legs under Plexus' arms and puts him in a full nelson with his fucking legs!

J.R.: By the ten foot dick of Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior ... Wait, what the hell is this, Warrior?

WW: Goddamn, it, Jim. This is not the fucking time.

J.R.: Harry Underwood just pulled a maneuver I've never seen before! I guess I should call it the Underwood nelson!

WW: That's stupid and you're stupid. THESE FUCKERS ARE GOING TO KILL EACH OTHER.

Underwood pushes Plexus' head down as far as he can and then grabs Plexus' arms and pulls them back. It's the Full Underwood Nelson (I just made that name up!)! Plexus strains against it, but can't free himself because of his injured shoulder, not to mention he still has a big hole in his torso. Exhausting his options, he just falls backward, smashing Underwood under his massive weight.

"I'm done giving you a free pass," Plexus puts his full weight on Underwood, "Now you're going to have to earn it." Plexus gets up and pulls Underwood up by his hair. He kicks Harry once in each kneecap, bending both legs backward. Harry holds his screams in because he was fucking trained as a goddamn super agent.

J.R.: Stop the damn match! Plexus is going to kill him!

WW: Didn't you read Caligula's rule book?

J.R.: No, I can't say that I have.

WW: THAT BECAUSE THERE AREN'T ANY FUCKING RULES, PUSSY.

Lunar Plexus lifts Underwood by his throat and examines the struggling man like a regular person would study a work of art. His arms are too long for Harry to hit Plexus' body.

"Hmm. I try not to make a habit out of torture. It's more than a bit tedious," Plexus seems to be talking only to himself, "though in this case it may be justified." He raises Underwood up and then drops him on Underwood's ruined legs. "I'm glad that you're not a screamer." Over and over, Plexus drops Harry and Harry's face grows redder and more covered in perspiration.

J.R.: There's no need for this! Just end it already!

WW: I feel like my views on the universe have been validated. This means that huge cocks are the most important factor in determining a man's strength. But then ... that would mean a non-American could have a huge cock and be better than an American, and that can't be right. Fuck. I don't know!

"Well, then, let's end this, shall we?" Plexus puts Harry in a reverse bear hug and starts headbutting him in the top of the head!

J.R.: Quietus Gibbous! Quietus Gibbous! Lunar Plexus is finally going to put Harry Underwood out of his misery and I say it's about time! It was absolutely unnecessary and he may have left Underwood crippled for life!

WW: That's the way of life, J.R. You either accept it or you die. Unless you do accept it and die anyway.

J.R.: Yes.

Harry Underwood can hear his skull cracking and his eyes roll back in his head. BUT THEN HE STARTS CHANTING AND ROARS ECHO AROUND THE BUILDING!

"YOU CALL THAT A BEAR HUG?" UNDERWOOD STARTS GROWING, BREAKING OUT OF PLEXUS' HOLD AND HE TURNS INTO A GODDAMN BEAR.

J.R.: Aw snap!

WW: Jesus, man. Are you even reading my list?

The Man-Bear stands on its hind legs and starts batting its arms around, clawing Lunar Plexus' face. Then the bear headbutts Plexus to the ground!

"I'M A FUCKING BEAR, ASSHOLE!"

"I noticed," Plexus replies and stands up.

"THOSE ROARS WEREN'T ME, THOUGH!"

AND THEN HUNDREDS OF RADIOACTIVE POLAR BEARS CRASH THROUGH THE WALLS AND START DEVOURING RELATIVELY INNOCENT BYSTANDERS. Warrior Warrior rips his chains out of the ground and starts fighting a polar bear, defending the corpulent Jim Ross from certain doom. He punches a damn polar bear in the nose and then body slams it! Another polar bear attacks Caligula, but he grabs it by its throat and rips its skin off, then wears it like a cape.

J.R.: BAH GAWD! BAH GAWD! BAH GAWD!

Underwood the Man-Bear raises his arms, "POLAR BEARS, SHOW THEM YOUR FULL POWER!"

AND THEN THE RADIOACTIVE BEARS TRANSFORM INTO RADIOACTIVE BEAR-MEN AND THEIR TEETH TURN INTO FUCKING RAZOR BLADES.

Not even Warrior Warrior can hold them off now, as they start ripping his flesh open. "NOOOOOOO! I SMELL THE BLOOD OF MY ANCESTORS AND THEY EAT THE SOULS OF THE MOONS OF EVERY PLANET IN THE MILKY WAY AND THEIR POWER IS MIGHTY AND THEIR VOICES DEAFENING AND I WILL DESTROY YOU!" He faces his palms toward the bears and GIANT WARRIOR WAR PAINT SYMBOLS EXPLODE OUT and cause the fucking polar bears to explode!

A ring of polar Bear-Men surround Lunar Plexus, who looks at them with disgust. "This is what it takes for you to beat me?"

The Bear-Men run toward Plexus, but he's able to slap them away. One runs up from behind, but he elbows it in the throat, killing it instantly. After that he uses the elbow as a fist cock and punches through another Bear-Man's torso. With his free hand he pulls out the Bear-Man's tongue and uses it to garrote another, then knees it in the back hard enough to decapitate it, sending the body to knock down a big group of them. A few more show up, but he does a spinning clothesline to take them out.

"Fags." Plexus pops his neck and looks at Underwood the Man-Bear.

Underwood stares back. "LET'S FINISH THIS SHIT."

The two goliaths charge at each other, yelling to charge their fucking power, and then let loose mach speed straight punches, their jaws snapping at contact, sending a sonic boom that bursts the ear drums of most of the people and polar bears in the building except for the important people.

J.R.: Now that the bears are all dead, I'm no longer too frightened to speak. So let me say, holy fucking shit! Plexus and Underwood are just standing there and it's impossible to tell if either of them is still alive!

WW: These men, their dicks are insanely lengthy.

J.R.: You'll get no argument here, Warrior! The tension is palpable, and even though we may well be the only ones surviving, this is a match no one here will ever forget!

The Man-Bear's knee buckles and, immediately afterward, blood runs through the teeth of Lunar Plexus. Then Underwood transforms back to human and wobbles, no longer able to support his weight against Plexus'. Then the hole in Plexus' gut erupts blood.

"Shit ..."

Plexus falls face first and then Underwood falls on top of him, both unconscious.

Caligula rips a piece of meat from a bear leg and then stands. "ONE!"

J.R.: It looks like Caligula is going to count to ten and whoever is still down will lose!

"TWO!"

Plexus pushes Underwood off of his back and gets on his knee.

"THREE!"

Underwood grabs Plexus' ankle, but Plexus just punches him in the solar plexus.

"FOUR!"

Underwood, ignoring his pain, grabs Plexus' belt and pulls himself up and Plexus wraps his fingers around Harry's neck.

"FIVE!"

It doesn't take much for the oxygen flow to his brain to slow him down and Underwood's fingers loosen.

"SIX!"

Plexus pushes himself up with both hands. He lets out a deep sigh.

"SEVEN!"

Underwood looks straight up at Plexus and gets on his knee.

"EIGHT!"

Just as Plexus gets erect, Underwood uppercuts him in the tip of the chin, rocking Lunar Plexus' brain.

"NINE!"

Plexus falls and Underwood uses the momentum to get his feet under him.

"TEN!"

J.R.: BAH GAWD! WHAT A DRAMATIC FINISH! HARRY UNDERWOOD WINS THE MAIN EVENT OF SLAUGHTER SERENADE!

WW: AMERICA WINS SLAUGHTER SERENADE! AMERICA AND BIG DICKS WIN FOREVER!

J.R.: That's it from an absolute classic at the Citadel of Contemptible Causality in the beautiful Republic of Guitar Solos! This is good ol' J.R. with Warrior Warrior saying goodnight! All Hail Emperor Lightning!