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CALIGULA LIGHTNING's ELEGY OF EXTINCTION (#23)

 
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Vinny
[00:10] How can you get an erect dick into your own ass?
Joined: 16 Jan 2007
Posts: 5181
(Wed May 02, 2007 7:49 pm)
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Post     CALIGULA LIGHTNING's ELEGY OF EXTINCTION (#23)

On the frost-worn plains of the Republic of Guitar Solos, a massive wolf carries the shredded corpse of its prey up a snowcapped mountain. Leaving a trail of red dots behind him, the wolf reaches the summit and overlooks the valley. A huge procession of warriors clad in vaguely Arabic clothing march forward. Many of the soldiers are deformed, their genetic mutations affording them hunched back and extra limps as well as increased strength and bloodlust. Many of these bizarre creatures are riding monstrosities bred in No Man’s Land. Gargantuan two-headed snow tigers are ridden while bipedal land sharks are led by chains. As the wolf finishes its meal, a giant camel with a huge, spinning dick crushes it under its toe, exploding its blood and shit everywhere.

“T-They’re here! The Army of Zeeeeeed!” a half-frozen Holy Lightning Empire soldier wearing a weather-inappropriate tunic shouts to his comrades before a hail of arrows perforates his skull.

Wave after wave of Caligula’s soldiers rush the perverse demons of the Army of Zeed but they are no match. Rhinoceroses with horns for eyes impale soldier after soldier. Men with sickles on half-bred Space Stallions charge into battle and disembowel numerous Zeedlings, their guts immediately feasted on by their hideous comrades.

“Captain! We’re fighting a losing battle! We have to retreat!” a kneeling Holy Lightning Empire warrior says to his superior. The Captain runs his fingers across the lines on his weathered face.

“That is impossible. Death awaits us at our homes if Caligula discovers we retreated,” the Captain says. Just then, horrific oil-black blobs peer over the horizon with long tentacles that hang towards the ground. These flying squid-like creatures lower their tentacles onto the Holy Lightning men, the swiveling hooks on their tentacles shredding the soldiers’ flesh.

“BLOOOOPERS!” one man cries before the tentacles snatch him up and lift him to the grotesque maw of the flying squid.

“Captain! There’s no time, we can’t win!” the soldier yells to his Captain. The Captain falls to his knees in face of such a hopeless situation.

“If only there was another way …” the Captain sighs. Suddenly, a giant harpoon with an impaled man strung along it is FLUNG into the cliff wall behind the Captain. In his mouth is a rolled up sheet of parchment. The Captain carefully retrieves the message and unfurls it.

“They want to settle this battle one on one, between Generals …” the Captain says.

“But we can’t do that. The General, he …” the soldier says.

“No, if they want a fight, we’ll give it to him. Unleash Gaius Lightning.”

Fear stricken Holy Lightning soldiers open a path for the hulking, leather-clad General Gaius Lightning. The title of General is utterly meaningless as this Lightning brother is bound with numerous chains, a burlap sack over his head. His upper body is approximately five times larger than the rest of him, his Abobo-like arms dragging along the snow-covered ground.

“We brought our General, men of Zeed! Show us yours!” the Captain screams. Just then a large WAR HORN is BLARED and the Army of Zeed drops to all fours, seemingly BOWING towards the Holy Lightning forces! Far off in the distance a large object can be seen. It is the head of the Statue of Liberty being passed lifted forward by the soldiers, passed from group to group. Two oversized broadswords are jammed in the eyes of the Statue of Liberty’s head. The front of the crown has been reshaped and restructured to form a lavish throne. And on that throne is a man.

“Oh God, it can’t be …” the Captain mutters in utter disbelief.

“What is it, sir?” the soldier asks.

“It’s him. It’s Zeed.”

Zeed sits on his throne, his legs crossed and his head propped up on his fist. The man is beyond human standards of proportion and beauty. Zeed is fifteen feet tall yet retains none of the physical defects standard in giants. His impeccable chiseled frame is adorned with the most expensive piercings and jewelry, a massive iron “Z” strapped to his chest. His facial features are sharp, distinctly masculine yet beautiful. His mulatto-esque skin bears not a single scratch, as if he’s never participated in a single battle. On top of his head is a powerful black Mohawk shaped like a “Z” on its side. Zeed smiles as he approaches the Holy Lightning forces.

“So then, is this lummox the opponent of the King God Emperor Zeed?” Zeed says with the most impossibly deep voice you’ve ever heard, a voice so deep that you can’t even understand him. He remains relaxed and unmoving on his throne of the Statue of Liberty’s head.

Immediately the Captain takes two arms full of syringes and jams them into the chest of Gaius Lightning. Once he pushes down the plungers, Gaius Lightning begins howling as rope-like veins strain against his flesh. The fluid, the same drug that created Reginald Lightning’s gigantic and God-like voice box, turns Gaius Lightning’s skin a crimson red.

“You can’t do that, Captain, that will kill him!” the soldier shouts.

“If I didn’t do it we would all be dead!!” the Captain shouts.

The burlap sack on Gaius Lightning’s head turns RED with BLOOD as he breaks his own chains and CHARGES FORWARD. The soldiers of the Army of Zeed do not move from their bowing position and are crushed as Gaius tramples them to get to Zeed. Zeed still sits with his hand propping up his head, smiling.

“GUAAAAH!” the frenzied GAIUS howls as swings a giant, pulsing arm at Zeed. Zeed raises an impossibly long arm and aims his index finger at Gaius. The FIST collides with Zeed’s pretty fucking big finger and EXPLODES.

“WHAT?!” the Captain screams. Gaius pulls back a stump, his wrist ejaculating blood as hunks of his fingers hang by thin strips of skin.

“Is that it? Is this the might that bloated Caligula could amass? King God Emperor Zeed is not impressed!” Zeed laughs, the impossibly low tone causing some soldiers to shit their pants.

“FUGAAAH!” GAIUS SCREAMS in PAIN and ATTEMPTS to FLEE. As he runs, Zeed whips his NINE FOOT LONG ARM like a BROWN WHIP. As it TRAVELS through the AIR and LIGHTNING SPEEDS, it EVISCERATES numerous SOLDIERS ON BOTH SIDES. Soon it reaches its target, his arm PLUNGING itself DEEP into GAIUS LIGHTNING’S BACK. Gaius GROANS as the arm BURSTS out of his CHEST, the huge hand clutching his heart, his lungs, and several other organs. The Captain watches in horror as Zeed clenches his fist, killing Gaius.

Zeed pulls back his arm and suddenly, a harem of nude women covered only in jewelry (like Zeed) begin washing and drying his arm with silk. Zeed lifts his now clean arm and points to the Holy Lightning forces.

”Bow,” he says.

The Captain is the first to drop his sword. Once the Captain drops to all fours, the rest of his forces quickly follow. With the five hundred Holy Lightning soldiers now pledging their loyalty to Zeed, the King God Emperor issues one more command.

“Massacre,” Zeed smiles. The forces of Zeed descend on the helpless warriors of the Holy Lightning Empire.

Hours later, Zeed relaxes on his throne while speaking with his advisor, seven women working his whale dick.

“Are we finished here?” Zeed asks examines his fingernails.

“Yes King God Emperor Zeed,” the advisor says while bowing.

“Good, onto Castlevania. It’s been awhile since any of the Three Divine Fists have been reunited.”

“And then, after Caligula is dead, we’ll move towards the Chinese Kombo King?” the advisor sheepishly asks.

“Of course. I have rested for far too long,” Zeed says as his throne is lifted and carried onwards to Forces. In the background, all of the corpses of the Holy Lightning Empire forces have been bound into a mammoth, fleshy “Z”.

-----

Elsewhere, deep in the heart of Forces and within the walls of Caligula’s own home CASTLEVANIA, bloodthirsty fans are led into the Grand Ballroom. As large as any arena, the fans are whipped to their luxurious and lavish golden seats. In the center is a ring composed of bones and flesh all drenched in liquid gold.

J.R.: Hello folks, welcome back to another exciting event brought to us by Lord Lightning. This is Elegy of Extinction! We’ve got some great matches lined up tonight, right Warrior?

W.W.: You bet your fucking ass, Jim, but I’m only going to talk about the two that I give a shit about. CHURCH & STATE, my heroes, take on those SCIENCE-POWERED DICKHEADS SPARTA. Although I used to think Sparta was OK, now that they’re fighting Church & State I’ve been forced to regard faggot sucking shit monsters.

J.R.: And the other?

W.W.: Like you have to ask! The Last House on the Left match! And for the new HOLY LIGHTNING CHAMPIONSHIP, SHIT! Deimos vs. that queer the Illusionist vs. SUPER AGENT HARRY UNDERWOOD vs. the BEST WRESTLER EVER, LUNAR PLEXUS. If I lips, I’d be grinning ear to ear, Jim!

J.R.: You got that right! This Last House on the Left match is looking to be the biggest match yet. Four men go into a house, which is apparently within THIS CASTLE, and search for the Holy Lightning Championship. The first to leave with the belt will be declared the champion!

In the Emperor’s box, Caligula is devouring a massive amount of something grotesque as Germanicus Lightning, his youngest living brother and advisor, crawls in wearing a diaper.

“Sir, Gaius Lighting … has been killed …” Germanicus says.

“Ho hum,” Caligula picks his teeth and pulls out a dog skeleton.

“It’s Zeed, sir. Our men tell us he’s coming this way with his army.”

Caligula pauses during his meal then viciously yanks Germanicus chain, holding him up to eye level. Germanicus kicks helplessly as he is slowly strangled.

“Didn’t I tell you never to disturb one of my meals with bad news? It could interrupt my digestion,” Caligula tells him, his putrid breath singing Germanicus’ flesh.

“B-B-But …!”

“If Zeed wants to come, so be it! This grand event I went to so much trouble to orchestrate will not be stopped! I will deal with that perverse deviant when he arrives!” Caligula hurls Germanics into the wall, breaking his legs. As Germanicus weeps softly, Caligula Lightning dumps a goblet of grain alcohol down his gullet.

“Zeed …” Caligula mutters, his eyes serious.

-----

Outside the walls of Castlevania, a lone figure wrapped in a black cloak marches towards the city gates.

“Caligula, ye are guilty …”


Last edited by Vinny on Wed May 23, 2007 4:16 pm; edited 1 time in total
Spamdini
Joined: 22 Jan 2007
Posts: 1322
(Sun May 06, 2007 6:22 pm)
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Post     Re: CALIGULA LIGHTNING's ELEGY OF EXTINCTION (#23)

“HUFF HUFF HUFF!”

Doolittle arrives at the gates to Castlevania, not a minute too late for his match. Higgins and Pickering are there waiting for him, sipping cool lemonade in the shade.

Higgins: You made it, my boy! Maybe there’s something to you after all!

Doolittle: HUFF HUFF…oy! Wassa ya finkin’ leavin’ me dere all likes dat? ‘Ad to ‘ide in goon corpses jus’ t’ git a lift in a herse!

Higgins: You’ll need that type of resourcefulness in your match. Get your tights on, kid!

The crowd is restless and furiously tearing out the golden seats and tossing them at each other. Teeth and blood soar through the stadium as a decrepit technician slowly replaces a single light bulb, thus delaying the start. A rowdy fan dropkicks the ladder he’s on, causing the poor old fool to tumble twenty stories onto a stone statue of Dracula doing an uppercut. He splatters all over Dracula’s fist and the crowd cheers as blood rains down upon them.

The first fighter to come out is Doolittle, dressed in a wrestling singlet with headgear on. The crowd is famished for blood and action and so they cheer on anyone who they think will satisfy their bloodlust. As such, Doolittle gets applause for his entrance, much to his pleasure.

Doolittle: Guess dey’s knows ‘ow cool I is aftah hearin’ ‘bout mah trip ‘ere!

Reginald Lightning gets on the microphone and begins his announcement.

Lightning: By order of Lord Caligula, hail his majesty and grace, this match shall be a submission match! The first wrestler to say “I Quit” and allow the referee to urinate in his face will be declared the loser!

Doolittle: Whaaat?! I don’ts know ‘ow to summishen wrassle!

Higgins runs down to Doolittle’s corner.

Higgins: Don’t worry! Just do everything you learned and when the time comes, I’ll teach you the dreaded SLEEPER HOLD and BOSTON CRAB!

Lightning: In the ring, weighing in at 190 pounds, DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLITTLE! And his opponent, weighing in at 385 pounds, CORPORAL BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOODY!

The sightless, badly torched Body stumbles down to the ring with the help of Caligula’s guards. Doolittle wrings his hands at the thought of being able to take out some random blind dude, but turns pale once he sees the giant body standing in front of him. Raging against his loss of sight, Body swings and arm and sends a solider flying into a pillar where he breaks in half. The other soldiers flee the ring and Doolittle looks back to his trainer nervously.

Higgins: He’s nothing but a jabroni, Doolittle! A hack! Use your promo skills on him!

Doolittle: Uuuuh…Body, I is gonna take you down an’ make you submit sucka! Then I’m goin’ for the gold so Caligula, I’m coming for you nigga!

The crowd goes silent. Caligula is not upset, but rather confused.

Caligula: D-Did that man just call me a nigger?

Lightning: And here is our special guest referee, CHUCK BERRY!

The king of rock n’ roll swaggers to the ring, playing Roll Over Beethoven while kicking a dead body dressed as Beethoven and causing it to roll on down to the ring.

The bell rings and a panicked Doolittle gets in his traditional wrestling stance. Higgins nods in approval. However, Body does not move. Both men stay in their respective positions and remain motionless. The crowd boos and chucks garbage in the ring. Doolittle, hardly the epitome of patience, forgets his training and lunges right at the big brute.

But Corporal Body was waiting for that! He hears Doolittle’s footsteps and smells his fist coming right at him. Deftly leaning back so that Doolittle’s fist just barely whizzes by, he counters with a gigantic right hand that sends his opponent flying into the corner, stunned! Before he can recover, Doolittle is ravaged with a series of hard punches. He covers up, but his defense has no effect on a man almost twice his size! A punch rips through his guard and hits him in the gut, causing Doolittle to tumble to the ground.

Corporal Body grabs Doolittle’s arm and put him into an armbar on the ground! Doolittle yells out in pain as the move is applied to perfection.

JR: Is this it?! Have Doolittle’s wrestling skills reached their peak?!

Warrior: Wrestling’s all about clotheslines, body slams and flexing! It’s not his fault that he was forced into this bullshit match!

Doolittle looks up at Chuck Berry who is grinning niggerishly and preparing to unzip his fly. Higgins, however, slams the mat and begins to scream advice to his protogé.

Higgins: Remember one of the cardinal rules of wrestling! If you grab the rope, you can break any hold! That’s the magic of the ring! USE THE ROPE BREAK!

With the rope just in front of his face, Doolittle extends his arm forth. Just another half an inch! That’s all he needs! He groans and gnashes his teeth as he strains every muscle in his arm in order to achieve the safety of wrestling’s most sacred defense technique.

He...just…needs to…

ROPE BREAK! DOOLITTLE PERFORMS THE ROPE BREAK!

JR: Doolittle grabbed the ropes. Ho hum.

Doolittle gets to his feet, rubbing his sore arm. Corporal Body has lost track of his opponent and spins around nervously in order to track him down. Seeing his opportunity to strike, Doolittle gives it all he’s got. He puts Body in a waistlock and goes for the legendary GERMAN SUPLEX!

Higgins: FOOL! That move is far too complex for you to use yet! Especially on a man twice your size!

Higgins’ advices comes too late as the weighty Corporal Body ends up tumbling right on top of Doolittle, nearly smooshing him flat! Body’s found his opponent again so he quickly takes advantage and applies the infamous FIGURE-FOUR LEGLOCK! Doolittle’s legs begin to break like twigs and with no rope in sight, this must be THE END for the young warrior! With tears in his eyes, he beckons Chuck Berry to come over.

Higgins: No! Not yet! Don’t you remember our lesson on counter moves?!

Doolittle thinks back. He remembers the session when Pickering had the Figure-Four locked in on Higgins as tightly as he could. However, Higgins remained calm and collected.

Flashback Higgins: Watch now, my student!

Higgins turns his body over and now for some reason it’s Pickering who’s in pain.

Flashback Higgins: The Figure-Four is mighty indeed, but it has one fatal flaw. It can be transformed into a deadly counter-submission. When the time comes, you must use this attack in order to defend those you love.

Doolittle: Dose I loves…Why…DAT’S ME! I LOVE ME! I GOTS T’ PROTECK ME!

With every ounce of strength in his body, he starts to flip his body around in order to reverse the Figure-Four. Problem is, he stops moving! Corporal Body is too big and strong to flip over!

BUT AS LUCK WOULD HAVE IT, Corporal Body’s leg cramps up! He instinctively flips his body over and doesn’t even realize that he is now the victim of another submission hold! Now it is his turn to beg and scream and Chuck Berry shimmies around the ring with his hand on his fly.

JR: A textbook Figure-Four reversal! Is this it for Corporal Body?!

Corporal Body powers out, though not without injuring his right leg badly! He uses the ropes to get to his feet and hobbles towards the hooting and hollering Doolittle. A left straight punch is dodged and Doolittle uses the momentum to IRISH WHIP him into the corner! Body is dazed! DOOLITTLE MOUNTS HIM! HE’S USING MOUNTED PUNCHES AT THE TURNBUCKLE!

The crowd counts them off.

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

Doolittle pulls his fist back to punch again, but just as he’s about to make contact he stops his fist.

Doolittle: Wait a sec…what numbah comes aftah ten?

After thinking for a few minutes, he comes to a realization: HE DOESN’T KNOW! HE DOESN’T KNOW BECAUSE YOU’RE ONLY SUPPOSED TO PUNCH UP TO TEN!

Doolittle jumps off of Body who staggers around, half-unconscious. Body flops over Ric Flair style! However, he does so right in front of Doolittle and ends up crushing him. He can barely breathe under the behemoth and struggles in order to free himself. Body regains consciousness just as Doolittle is about to squirm his way out. He grabs the little pest and begins wailing on him with a flurry of punches while Doolittle is lying with his back on the mat! Blood coats Body’s fists as Doolittle’s face swells like a beach ball being inflated.

Doolittle: Y…you sumbitch…TAKE DIS!

THE EYE GOUGE! DOOLITTLE GOES FOR THE EYE GOUGE! Except he misses and gets his fingers stuck in Corporal Body’s nostrils! Both men frantically try to break free, but the thick muscular nostrils have clamped down hard on Doolittle’s fingers. Finally, Body punches Doolittle so hard that he flies off. And he takes Body’s nose with him! Body uses his left hand to grab his bleeding face and uses his right hand to support himself against the ropes. But he misses the top rope in his blindness and slips and falls, getting his hand caught in the bottom two ropes! He pulls his right hand free, causing his index and middle fingers to be ripped off! He yells in pain and stumbles around aimlessly!

Doolittle: IT’S OVAH!

Doolittle gets right behind Body and delivers a devastating BACK SUPLEX!

JR: BAH GAWD! A BACK SUPLEX! BAH GAWD!

Warrior: I guess we can get excited about this seeing as how it’s the first match of the night.

Doolittle pins Body until he realizes something: He can’t win by pinfall!

Body sits up and begins choking the shit out of Doolittle with his functional left hand! He gasps for breath, slowly losing consciousness. Chuck Berry looks over and drops his trousers, playing a wicked solo and doing a duck walk all at the same time! In desperation, Doolittle goes for the EYE GOUGE again.

Except Body doesn’t have any eyes

JR: Doolittle’s done for! His finisher won’t work on Body!

But something happens! Corporal Body relinquishes the hold! He foams at the mouth and begins screaming! Doolittle’s fingers went all the way to Body’s brain! Corporal Body feels all the different types of extreme pain that the human body can possibly experience, all at once! Without even knowing it, he opens his mouth and screams three simple words.

“I GIVE UPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!”

Berry stretches his arms to the sky and laughs like a madman, his stream of manliness flooding Corporal Body’s face and entering through his exposed eyeballs and nose cavities. Doolittle experiences some splashback, but it overwhelmed with a new feeling. The feeling of VICTORY!

JR: BODY GIVES UP! DOOLITTLE WINS WITH THE EYE GOUGE ON AN EYELESS MAN!

Higgins helps his fighter to his feet and brings him outside the ring.

Higgins: Your first lesson is complete. You’ve defeated a jobber.

Doolittle: Zat mean I is ready to take on da champ?

Higgins: ARROGANT FOOL!

Higgins powerbombs Doolittle into the Earth and carries his unconscious body out of the arena, tears of joy in his eyes.

Higgins: Well done, boy.


Last edited by Spamdini on Sun May 06, 2007 11:05 pm; edited 1 time in total
Big Fagot
Alpha ape
Joined: 09 Jan 2007
Posts: 10544
(Sun May 06, 2007 8:22 pm)
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Post     Re: CALIGULA LIGHTNING's ELEGY OF EXTINCTION (#23)

JR: Our next matchup tonight is set to be a real spittleslapper!

WW: I don't know what the shit that means, but next up is Glorious Titan's match! HELL YEAH!

JR: That's right, and he's going to be fighting not only the talented young Japanese martial artist Kenjiro Kanzaki, but also the all-American spaceman, Ren Alexander!

WW: Don't try to confuse me with that all-American crap. Ren Alexander is an intellectual and a nancyass. Might makes right! Anytime my man Glorious Titan is pitted against knowledge fetishists like nips and astronauts, you can bank on him bringing the pain in a way that BOTH historical Caligulas would approve of!

JR: Well said, my worthy nemesis! Here comes Reginald Lightning to announce the terms of the match!

The imperial sibling is brought out in a wheelchair. He arrives in front of a podium. Several servants clasp a collar around his inhuman throat, then attach metal poles to the collar and lend their strength to lift him up. Standing at last, Reginald Lightning speaks.

"LADIES AND GOONS! The following match is a three-way contest for one fall! By the Emperor's decree, it will be an IMPERIAL LIBRARY MATCH!"

JR: What the hell is that?

WW: It takes place in an ordinary library.

JR: That doesn't sound so bad.

WW: This is no ordinary library!

Reginald Lightning continues. "Appearing first, weighing 230 pounds, KENJIRO KANZAKI!"

Kenjiro is at one corner of a huge library, too massive and labyrinthine to see to the far sides. The shelves are absurdly tall, and the ceiling is even taller. Kenjiro pulls down his cap and says "tch" for no reason.

"Appearing next, weighing 210 pounds, REN ALEXANDER!"

Another corner of the library is shown with a crazy looking guy covered in hair and seaweed.

"And finally, weighing 290 pounds, GLORIOUS TITAN!"

Glorious Titan is hunched over and ready to dash into battle at a moment's notice! His missing left hand has been replaced by a permanently attached shield.

JR: Looks like they're all ready to go!

WW: Ding!

JR: I think the bell ringer has to do that.

The bell ringer, wishing to humor Warrior Warrior so as not to incur disfavor, rings the bell and starts the match. Titan blasts into a full sprint in no particular direction. Kenjiro, with his hands in his jacket pockets, moseys off toward where he thinks he might find the other two. Ren Alexander, curious what kind of library this is, pulls a book off the shelf.

WW: That fag truth loving nerd Ren Alexander WOULD be the first one to figure out the library!

JR: I'm sure whatever it is you're not telling me will become apparent soon enough.

Ren holds up the book. It says "Darts For Dummies".

Elsewhere, Kenjiro thinks he hears footsteps and presses his ear up against the bookshelf. It turns out to be nothing, so he keeps walking. We see that his ear was pressed against a book called "Ninja: The Myth And The Reality".

JR: What's going on? What do these books have to do with anything?

WW: It's starting!

Glorious Titan sneaks through the aisles of the library, hunting the other two participants. What he doesn't realize is that Ren Alexander is hunting him! Behind him, the astronaut drags one of those hooks used to access stuff on the top shelf! He takes it like a spear and throws it!

Titan spins around and puts up his shield to dodge, but the hook pierces through! He deflects it enough to avoid getting hit, but it pins his shield and his stump to the shelf! Alexander rushes him as Glorious Titan pulls out his axe and prepares for battle!

However, Alexander is stopped by a shuriken that lands at his feet! He looks up to see Kenjiro standing on top of the bookcase!

"Yare, yare," says Kenjiro, before dropping out of sight behind the bookcase. Alexander and Titan, puzzled, listen for the sound of Kenjiro hitting the ground, but it doesn't come. Then they hear a laugh from another bookcase, but by the time they look up he's already gone!

Alexander tries to figure out what's happening, but he has no time! Glorious Titan attacks! Ren barely ducks under Titan's axe, then dodges a vertical slice by jumping onto the shelf! As Titan rears back for another strike, Ren pulls down a candlestick and throws it into Titan's heart, but he disappears in a puff of smoke and leaves behind only a flock of doves! Behind him is a book called "Sleight Of Hand For The Meaty Fisted Individual."

JR: Unless I'm mistaken, the grapplers are learning everything in the library's books just by touching them! But how?

WW: I'll field that one! Caligula's personal library was stolen from a mad scientist after the apocalypse. The books were laced with nanomachines that go straight to the nervous system and impart the knowledge contained in the book!

JR: In my day they just called it magic. Isn't that the plot of Meteor Man?

WW: Good memory.

"Bwa hah hah!" laughs Kenjiro Kanzaki at the spectacle of Ren Alexander tripping on his own shoelaces. "It worked," smirks Ren, clutching "Intro To Improv". "That's right ... keep laughing!" Ren watches as Glorious Titan sneaks up behind Kenjiro! Titan steps over Machiavelli's "The Prince" and swings his axe upward at Kenjiro's crotch!

JR: Such uncharacteristic dishonor!

WW: When it comes to sterilizing zipperheads, the ends justify the means!

Kenjiro flips out of the way, kicking Titan in the face! "The Anatomy Of Emotion" falls out of his jacket.

"That book was a lucky find," he says, dashing at Ren Alexander. "I wear my heart on my sleeve, but my facial manipulation fooled even you!" Ren jumps back without Kenjiro's fist touching him, but then blood bursts out of his nose!

JR: That's the Way Of The Void!

Ren flails his arms and accidentally hits the bookshelf, knocking a book loose that lands on Kenjiro's head! It lands face up: the title is "Growing Old Gracefully". He lunges to attack, but he's too slow! He can't even extend his arm completely! Ren steps back as Glorious Titan approaches Kenjiro menacingly. Kenjiro falls over helpless in terror.

"Help me!" he screams! Ren does nothing. "Help me and ... I'll give you food and water when this is over!" Ren's shoulder brushes against "Atlas Shrugged" and he springs into action! Alexander runs straight at Glorious Titan, who smashes him in the face with his shield! While Ren is on the ground, Titan grabs a book and throws it at Ren, hitting him in the face.

WW: What was that book?

JR: I think it says ... "Better Sex In Seven Days"?

Titan drops his axe and gently straddles Ren. Ren licks his lips.

WW: I may have, previously in my life, been as angry as I am now, but if I was I blacked it out.

Kenjiro grabs a book called "Shipbuilding For The Hobbyist," which doesn't help but at least he's not old anymore. Out of mercy, he punches the bookshelf before running away, causing a book to fall on Titan's head.

WW: Oh fuck! I know what book that is!!!

"WHY NO APOCALYPSE CAN KILL ME" (the title is properly written in all caps), by Warrior Warrior, rolls off of Titan's back. Its meandering, stream of consciousness text immediately fills his mind. He stands up holding his axe with his eyes shadowed.

Kenjiro grabs book after book, hoping for something good. "Advanced Ergonomic Theory"; "Wario Ware: The Official Strategy Guide"; "First And Only: A Gaunt's Ghost Novel," which only makes him want to behave like Ren and Titan were when he left them. "Such pieces of trash," he muses in frustration.

Glorious Titan stands over Ren Alexander, quivering with rabid fury. He's a thousand tons of TNT balanced on the point of a knife. He picks up his axe and holds it over his head.

JR: Ren Alexander is going to be destroyed!

WW: *unzips pants* Come on baby, come to papa ...

Ren grabs a book on the bottom shelf. He looks at the name on the binding: "The Secret," by Rhonda Byrne. Looking up at Titan, his eyes go wide with terror.

Then, Titan falls up into the air.

JR: What happened? Titan isn't subject to gravity?

A blue glow shines from Warrior's unzipped pants.

Kenjiro Kanzaki is attached to the top of a bookshelf by the palm of his hand. His body is dangling upward. "Nani?"

Ren falls up into the air as well! He smashes into Titan on the ceiling, knocking him unconscious!

JR: Gravity has reversed itself!

WW: I refer you to a speech I gave on October 2, 2003 at Bob Jones University, where I specifically predicted this would happen if queers were allowed to marry.

Kenjiro puzzles over the situation. "Gravity is ... upside down? Impossible! But the only other explanation is ...

"The library has turned upside down!"

He releases his vacuum and drops harmlessly to the ceiling.

"Wait! If we're in Castlevania ... and this is the inverted library ...!"

Kenjiro punches a passing Schmoo, exploding it. An object clatters to the ceiling.

Ren Alexander stands up and looks around. Books are pouring to the ceiling like grains of sand. He looks down; Titan is unconscious. Kanzaki is nowhere to be seen! He has a chance to score a pin!

As he kneels down (or up), he sees a figure coming at him.

Kenjiro swoops in fearlessly! His target looks up (or down), too late! Countless blades dice enemy!

JR: That's the Crissaegrim!

WW: ChristFUCK!

Ren Alexander's spilled blood trails behind him as he flies through the air and lands motionless on the ceiling! Titan begins to stir, but Kenjiro uses a vacuum to throw "Sleep Better Without Drugs" at him, knocking him out! Kenjiro pins!



ONE!



TWO!







THREE!



JR: That's it! Kenjiro has won!

WW: Shit, I guess even the nips can't lose every time.
Vinny
[00:10] How can you get an erect dick into your own ass?
Joined: 16 Jan 2007
Posts: 5181
(Sun May 06, 2007 9:58 pm)
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Post     Re: CALIGULA LIGHTNING's ELEGY OF EXTINCTION (#23)

Outside the CASTLE CITY of CASTLEVANIA, in the land of FORCES, a group of CALIGULA’S SOLDIERS PROTECT THE BORDER. A guard lazily sits in his chair, SIPPING a can of STONE COLD ALE while looking through a telescope.

“Another boring night,” he groans, guzzling the remainder of the beer.

On the horizon he sees a face bobbing up into view. Leaning forward, he squints to focus on the face. It’s devoid of life, the mouth hanging agape with his eyes rolled to the upper right. The rest of its body comes into view: a bloated torso repeatedly impaled with oddly shaped pipes, the Holy Lightning Empire sigil on its torn uniform. This is the corpse of a Holy Lightning soldier and its being carried by a barbarian of Zeed. The barbarian blows into a metal protrusion on the corpses back and a NIGHTMARISH SOUND EMANATES FROM THE BODY as it VIBRATES. The guard begins to SHIT HIS PANTS as more of these BODIES, RIDDLED WITH PIPES, come into view, the BARBARIANS BLOWING INTO THE HUMAN INSTRUMENT TO SOUND THEIR HATEFUL WAR CRIES.

“ZEEEEEEEEEED!” THE GUARD SCREAMS, FALLING BACKWARDS OVER HIS CHAIR. THE HOLY LIGHTNING ENCAMPMENT TAKES TO ARMS AND THE GHOULISH HORDE OF ZEED APPROACHES. Zeed sits on his throne forged from the Statue of Liberty’s head, the handsome marauder grinning as if war were a game.

-----

J.R.: And what a match that was! Color me impressed.

W.W.: I can’t believe that little rice faggot was able to pull it off. I mean, come on, who the fuck is Kenjiro anyway? I don’t even know if Kenjiro is his first or last name. No one buys his merchandise, Jim! He’s just some Asian guy. His victory was completely unfair.

J.R.: But Bloodsport isn’t about popularity, it’s about victory! Strength, perseverance!

W.W.: That’s bullshit. Look at me, Jim.

Warrior rips off the sleeves to his tuxedo, revealing tassel-wrapped biceps.

W.W.: Look at this shit. And this awesome tattoo on my goddamned exposed skull. I’m ridiculous, Jim, and everyone loves me. Plus, you never know what’s going to come out of my mouth.

J.R.: Excellent points, Warrior, but I think that-

W.W.: My man-haunch slaps meatily against my thigh, Jim. Kenjiro could never say something as cool as that.

J.R.: Right you are. Anyway, it’s time for our next match, the prehistoric pugilist THRAK taking on ravenous rockstar AXELROD WAYLYN. This looks to be an exciting bout. Your thoughts, Warrior?

W.W.: Me and Thrak were shooting the shit earlier and-

J.R.: Wait a minute, you were talking with Thrak?

W.W.: What, just because Thrak chooses not to run a comb through his hair you think he’s uneducated?

J.R.: I, well, he’s never made any indication that he could even speak English.

W.W.: He didn’t need to, Jim. Thrak and I immediately formed a connection, a bond that transcends spoken language. Our enlightening and enriching discussions were constructed on a more primitive, instinctual level. We communicated initially by a lengthy stare down until mutual respect was formed. Then we irradiated each other with high levels of testosterone pheromones so we both knew how manly one another was.

J.R.: What did you talk about?

W.W.: Life, love, liberty: the subjects of discourse that all great men expound upon. We spent a day following a young woman through Forces National Park, playfully threatening her by wagging our genitals.

J.R.: Sounds like great fun. Now then, on his way to the ring first is Axelrod Waylyn!

Reginald Lightning stands on his podium, his tremendous throat muscles bulging over the collar of his tuxedo and onto his shoulders.

Lightning: COMING TO THE RING FIRST, HAILING FROM PARTS UNKNOWN AND WEIGHING IN AT 150 POUUUNDS … AXELROD WAAAAYLYYYYN!

The sickly looking Axelrod lurches out through the giant ballroom doors to room-quaking cheers. Axelrod runs his guitar-pick fingers through his greasy hair and tugs uncomfortably at the leather trench coat stuck firmly against his flesh with sweat. There are dark circles around his deep red eyes. A massive guitar case is strung along his sickly frame, the bottom of it dragging along the marble floor and producing sparks with each step.

J.R.: Axelrod looks ill, even more so than usual. I’m not sure if he’s in condition to fight, let alone fight 400 pounds of caustic caveman. I wonder what’s wrong.

W.W.: A degenerate like Axelrod? Probably the AIDs, or maybe even Super AIDs. Whatever, he won’t live long enough to throw up his lungs with Thrak in the ring tonight.

Caligula looks from his Imperial box. He sips a chalice of aged bile while non-chalantly tweaking some slut’s nipple.

“Don’t disappoint me, Axelrod,” Caligula mutters ambiguously.

Lightning: AND HIS OPPONENT, HAILING FROM THE LAND BEFORE TIME AND WEIGHING IN AT 390 POUUUUNDS … THRAAAAAAAAAK!

Thrak BURSTS onto the entrance with a frenzy of applause. He holds up a giant section of cave wall with a crude, stick figure depiction of him fucking a girl with gigantic tits. He laps around the ring, high-fiving fan after fan while grunting.

J.R.: The fans sure do love Thrak!

W.W.: What’s not to love? He comes from a magical, romantic time. A time before there was laws against sexual assault.

Thrak hops into the ring and begins imitating Hulk Hogan, delivering soul-quaking points towards Axelrod. Axelrod merely unfastens the numerous guitar case straps around his chest. Caligula’s servants bash a gong and the match begins!

J.R.: Here we go!

As Axelrod’s guitar case drops to the ground, THRAK BARRELS into him with a GIANT DROPKICK. The STONE-LIKE CALLOUSES on THRAK’S FEET drive into Axelrod’s torso, sending him flying into a golden skull turnbuckle. Axelrod spits up a small amount of blood and looks at his guitar case on the side of the ring. Seeing Thrak charging again, he leaps forward at the caveman.

SHING! Laser-like tracers follow the guitar-pick fingernails of Axelrod as he waves them over Thrak. Thrak manages to raise his guard in time, his forearms cut open repeatedly from the razor-like slashes aimed at his throat.

J.R.: Even Thrak’s skin isn’t tough enough to withstand those cuts!

Axelrod continues forward, whipping his fingers around while jets of blood shoot off of Thrak’s skin. Thrak reaches into his caveman utility belt and begins tossing one of man’s earliest murder implements: a rock! The baseball-sized stones are FLUNG with great intensity at Axelrod yet Axelrod doesn’t budge. Moving his index finger up, the stone is sliced in half, the two halves whistling past Axelrod’s ears harmlessly.

More and more stones are DESPERATELY TOSSED as Axelrod makes short work of them. In desperation, Thrak hurls one last one. Axelrod slices it in half quickly … but it surprised to find himself SURROUNDED by GIANT BEES!

J.R.: OH GOD, NOT THE BEES! It’s the fan favorite of Thrak’s signature attacks!

W.W.: I wonder where he gets those prehistoric bees. Does he have an apiary in his cave?

Waylyn looks unimpressed by the swarm barreling towards him. With LIGHTING QUICKNESS, he reaches into his POCKET and YANKS out a pack of STONE COLD UNFILTERED ASHTRAY CIGARETTES. Shoving all the cigarettes in his mouth, he strikes his FINGERNAILS together and produces a FLAME. Lighting those motherfuckers, he SUCKS the TAR-RICH ASH INTO HIS LUNGS and VOMITS OUT A CLOUD OF SMOKE. The BEES lose their AGGRESSION and the swarm dissipates!

J.R.: Those bees are dropping like flies!

W.W.: What the fuck? Kenjiro winning and now this? PULL YOUR SHIT TOGETHER, THRAK!

The clever caveman backs off slowly as Axelrod saunters forward, a cloud of smoke protecting him from the bees. Thrak drops two more of the grotesque honeycombs and keeps his distance. With the bees unresponsive, Axelrod suddenly BURSTS forward and HURLS HIS FINGERS.

Thrak’s mud-drenched locks fling wildly as he dodges Axelrod’s blows. Despite his huge size and awkward posture, Thrak is surprisingly nimble. Using the ropes to his advantage, he leans away from the killing blows, his skin grazed instead of his vital points being punctured.

“Come on, you bastard,” Axelrod mutters, smoke funneling from his mouth and nostrils as if he were a train.

J.R.: It doesn’t look good for Thrak! He may be only suffering flesh wounds, but even he’ll start to feel the effects of blood loss.

AXELROD drops his HAND and SLASHES OPEN the ROPES BEHIND THRAK. Waylyn, hunched over and straining, turns to his left to see Thrak standing there nonchalantly. Axelrod lazily slings a hand towards Thrak but Thrak easily catches his wrist. One by one, the cigarettes drop from Axelrod’s mouth, the butts bouncing off the mat. Axelrod sucks in air as struggles to stand.

J.R.: The cigarettes! He couldn’t get enough oxygen! Thrak tired him out on purpose!

WAYLYN shoots his other hand forward but Thrak grabs it as well. With his hands bound, Thrak starts BANGING his HEAD FORWARD, driving his steel-like brow into Axelrod’s face. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Blood SHIMMERS in the chandelier lights as wet jets course through the air. Axelrod Waylyn hangs like a rag doll by his hands, a sheet of blood masking his face.

“Like I’m going to turn pussy from a few cigarettes,” Axelrod wheezes. “I can’t die like that. That is my Way of the Rockstar!” Placing his GUITAR PICK FINGERS on THRAK’S WRISTS, HE SLITS THEM OPEN, SPRAYING THE CAVEMAN’S BLOOD ALL OVER THE RING.

W.W.: He fucking killed him!

J.R.: THRAK has had his wrists SLIT, folks! There’s no coming back from that!

Thrak stumbles around, confused and terrified, as his WRISTS shoot copious amounts of blood. Axelrod watches from his position on the mat, still delirious from having his brain rocked. Thrak begins rifling through his thick mess of hair. Pulling his fingers back, his hands are covered in a thick sap and numerous leaves. He slaps that shit on his wrist wounds, temporarily forming a seal to stop the blood flow.

J.R.: I’m impressed! Thrak has some ingenuity.

Not wanting to let this opportunity pass, Axelrod SPRINGS TO HIS FEET and CHARGES THRAK. Thrak’s face TWISTS in PAIN as Axelrod repeatedly stabs him in the gut with his fingers. Several dozen pin prick sized droplets of blood begin squirting tiny streams of blood as Thrak is in a daze. YANKING HIS FISTS BACK, AXELROD JAMS THEM BOTH IN THRAK’S BARREL CHEST UP TO THE MIDDLE JOINT. THRAK GROANS IN AGONY.

W.W.: Wait a minute, no, this can’t be it!

J.R.: HEART SALAD SURGERY! HE’S DOING IT!

AXELROD BEGINS MANIPULATING THRAK’S VEINS AND DELICATELY MASSAGING THE VENTRICLES OF HIS HEART TO MANIPULATE HIS BLOODFLOW. THRAK TREMBLES, BLOOD POURING FROM HIS NOSE, AS WAYLYN PLAYS HIS CARDIOVASCULAR SYSTEM LIKE A GUITAR.

“THIS IS IT! THE BIG FINISH!” AXELROD SCREAMS, TWISTING HIS FINGERS. BLOOD DRIPS FROM THE HOLES AS THRAK’S EYES ROLLED INTO THE BACK OF HIS HEAD.

J.R.: HE DID IT! IS THRAK DEAD?!

W.W.: SAY IT AIN’T SO!

IT AIN’T SO! THE PUPILS RETURN TO THRAK’S EYES AND HE LETS OUT A MONSTROUS WAR CRY AS HE SLAMS HIS FISTS INTO AXELROD’S EARS. CRAAACK! A SMALL LINE APPEARS ON AXELROD’S FOREHEAD FROM WHERE HIS SKULL FRACTURED. Before he can STAGGER BACKWARDS THRAK hits the ROPES with his BACK. CURLING HIMSELF INTO A BALL, HE FLINGS HIMSELF FORWARD BLANKA STYLE AND COLLIDES WITH AXELROD!

J.R.: ROLLING STONE! But I thought the Heart Salad Surgery was supposed to kill him! What went wrong?

W.W.: That’s easy, Jim! As I talking to Thrak backstage, he told me that cavemen’s hearts are on the right sides of their chests.

J.R.: Amazing, and so coincidental, too!

Axelrod hits the mat and rolls backwards before bouncing into the ropes. His arms hook over the second rope while the top rope firmly holds him in place. Axelrod weakly raises his head and notices he’s tied up in the ropes!

J.R.: He’s trapped and he’s too damaged to set himself free!

THRAK marches forward a few steps before something CATCHES HIS EYE. Turning to the edge of the ring, he sees the MASSIVE GUITAR CASE that Axelrod wore to the ring. Pulling it to the center, he carefully undoes the locks and opens the motherfucker. His eyes light up with amazement. Thrak lifts a huge guitar made from an elephant tusk, its body shaped like a shuriken and its strings composed of the ashes from Holocaust survivors. Thrak feels an odd stirring in his chest, a primordial yearning to FUCKING ROCK.

W.W.: YEAAAH!

THRAK runs his fingers along the strings and suddenly BUSTS OUT A MASSIVE RIFF. HIS THICK, GREASY HAIR WHIPS AROUND HIS HEAD AS A SUPERSONIC SOUND BURSTS FORTH FROM THE GUITAR. The SOUNDWAVE strikes AXELROD’S SHOULDER, SKINNING IT, before DRILLING INTO AN AUDIENCE MEMBER. Thrak RUNS his DIRTY FINGERS UP THE NECK as the GUITAR SQUEALS in ECTASY, blasting forth a SOUND RAZOR that cuts in AXELROD’S THIGH. He then begins TONGUING the FRETS while slapping his DONKEY DONG against the GUITAR, killing SEVERAL FANS by transmitting HEARTPOUNDING METAL into their LUNGS, causing them to EXPLODE OUT OF THEIR CHESTS.

J.R.: THRAK has become UNSTOPPABLE with that GUITAR. How the hell did he even learn how to PLAY IT?

W.W.: ISN’T IT OBVIOUS, JIM? THRAK MUST BE THE ANCESTOR OF ALL ROCK STARS!

THE RING BEGINS SHAKING AS THRAK PRODUCES A MIND-MURDERING RIFF. AS THE SOUND SWELLS UP IN THE BODY OF THE GUITAR, THRAK ACCIDENTLY STRIKES THE WRONG CHORD, PRODUCING A SOUR NOTE. THRAK THEN FINDS METALLIC BARBS PROTRUDING THROUGH HIS HANDS, THE GUITAR REJECTING HIM FOR FAILING.

J.R.: Wait, WHAT?

AXELROD SLICES the ROPES OFF HIS ARMS and uses them like WHIPS to latch onto his GUITAR. Pulling it off Thrak, it flies into AXELROD’S CAPABLE HANDS and he IMMEDIATELY busts out a DEAFENING NOTE. AN INDENTATION FORMS ON THRAK’S CHEST and the CAVEMAN is FLUNG INTO THE AUDIENCE.

J.R.: Every time one of these guys is about to win, the other one pulls the rug out from under them! I want to say it’s hopeless for Thrak but who the fuck knows!

Fans help up the dizzied Thrak as Axelrod strums on the guitar playfully. Thrak feels light-headed and can barely stand. The crowd surrounding him looks like a blur, their screams almost mute. Looking at the dried blood all over his body, he deduces that he’s running low on blood.

W.W.: What the fuck is Thrak doing? He’s moving AWAY from Axelrod!

Fans slap Thrak’s hair-covered back as he stumbles past them. When a FAN GOES for the HIGH-FIVE, THRAK GRABS his ARM and YANKS IT THE FUCK OFF.

J.R.: Hey, that was uncalled for!

W.W.: No wait, Jim, LOOK!

THRAK pulls a BAMBOO CHUTE from his utility belt with a sharpened point at one end. JAMMING that SHIT into the inside of his elbow, he shoves the other tip into the FLOWING STUMP of the DISARMED FAN. Thrak SIGHS in RELIEF as he UNDERGOES A BLOOD TRANSFUSION. However, a few minutes in, a BLARE of a GUITAR RINGS OUT and the FAN EXPLODES. Thrak kneels down, SUCKING the POOL OF BLOOD on the ground through the bamboo and trying to INJECT IT INTO HIS ARM.

J.R.: This is very weird.

THRAK jams the CHUTE into another fan’s arm but FINDS the ARM SEVERED right after contact, Axelrod still strumming on the guitar. AS THRAK moves DEEPER and DEEPER into the crowd, he continues to jab his makeshift siphon into PEOPLE’S BODIES. Thankfully Thrak is blood type AB!

With fan after fan quickly dying, THRAK COMES UPON A SKINNY MAN clad in RAGS. He SHOVES that TUBE into his ARM and BEGINS SUCKING BLOOD into his OWN VEINS. Thrak feels HIMSELF BECOME REVITALIZED and he turns to the RING. However, when he looks at the ring, NO ONE IS THERE.

J.R.: Wait a damn minute, NOW WHERE’S AXELROD?!

THRAK TURNS TO SEE AXELROD SMILING AT HIM, *HIS* BLOOD BEING PUMPED INTO THRAK’S BODY.

“Prepare to descend into an otherworldly, nightmarish realm,” Axelrod mutters. Thrak FALLS BACKWARDS in the crowd as AXELROD TOWERS OVER HIM. While Thrak stares at him, AXELROD’S HEAD SEEMS TO STRETCH TOWARDS THE CEILING. SOON HIS NECK FOLLOWS, EXTENDING TO MACABRE LENGTHS. DEMONIC CACKLING FILLS THRAK’S EARS AS THE CHEERS OF THE FANS TURN TO WHITE NOISE. AXELROD WAYLYN’S DRUG-SOAKED BLOOD CELLS ARE TEARING THRAK’S MIND APART!

“OOOGAAAAH!” THRAK SCREAMS. THE ENTIRE CROWD HAS TURNED INTO RAVENOUS DINOSAURS! THEY BITE EACH OTHER’S NECKS, RIPPING OUT THE MOIST FLESH AS T-REXES WITH SHOULDER-MOUNTED CANNONS STOMP THROUGH THE AUDIENCE. THRAK ATTEMPTS TO CRAWL AWAY BUT THE THICK, WRITHING MASS OF REPTILIAN INHUMANITY CLOSES IN ON HIM, SUFFOCATING HIM.

“Adios,” Axelrod says, a cigarette hanging from his lip. He lifts the GIANT GUITAR above his HEAD and DROPS IT ON THRAK’S SKULL, SPLITTING IT OPEN and SPRAYING HIS BRAINS INTO THE AIR.

J.R.: BAH GAWD, HE’S DEAAAAD! AXELROD HAS WON! AXELROD HAS WON!

The bell rings and Thrak’s eyes open slowly. He looks around and sees himself in the middle of the ring, Axelrod’s foot on his chest. Thrak runs his hands across his head to make sure that everything is still intact.

LIGHTNING: AND YOUR WINNER BY PINFALL, AXELROD WAAAAYLYYYYYN!

W.W.: What just happened?
Ryoko's Biatch
Joined: 04 Jan 2007
Posts: 9255
(Mon May 07, 2007 3:48 pm)
Reply

Post     Re: CALIGULA LIGHTNING's ELEGY OF EXTINCTION (#23)

J.R.: Now for our penultimate--

WW: (warrior)

J.R.: --match ... Wait, what?

WW: Ultimate Warrior.

J.R.: Okay. As I was saying our next to last match is Church and State against the Spartas in what promises to be a real slobber-knocker.

WW: No doubt, Jim. They represent the three finest qualities you can find in all of the world: God, America and brotherhood. I've seen some real scumbags in my time announcing; Chinks, robots, black guys who smoke weed. Even a white guy who WANTS to be black! I'm willing to forgive the Sparta brothers' trip to Cuba because they're real Americans who were KIDNAPPED by Communists and rescued by George Washington.

J.R.: Really?

WW: My point, Jim, is that this meeting was ordained by God so that every spectator would know TRUE AMERICAN VALUES and use their GOD GIVEN TALENTS to kick ass and that is great.

J.R.: The Sparta boys, they get their powers from science, not God.

WW: You shut the fuck up, Jim. You shut the fuck up. I swear that the blood red clouds that swirl above damned will strike lightning into their black souls until they know nothing but eternal pain and they will repent in the name of TRUE WARRIORS everywhere. And I will watch them and tell them to stab me with swords and shoot me with guns and even drop atomic bombs on my head and that it will all be worthless because my warrior spirit will protect me from all harm because I have the warrior's eyes and my mind tells me that I am immortal. ARE YOU READY TO FACE A TRUE IMMORTAL, HULK HOGAN? ARE YOU READY FOR ME TO KILL THE PILOT OF YOUR PRIVATE JET AND TAKE THE CONTROLS? ARE YOU READY FOR ME TO DIVE AND CORK-SCREW THAT PLANE INTO THE GROUND AT WRESTLEMANIA? YOU WILL KNOW WHAT I AM ON THAT DAY AND YOU WILL KNOW THAT I AM YOUR SUPERIOR. *SKEEERTCK*

By the way, the power of God and America will win. Science is bullshit.

J.R.: Indeed, Warrior. Let's send it to whoever that guy with the powerful vocal cords is. Somebody Lightning.

Reginald Lightning appears in a balcony and stumbles slightly due to the weight of his grotesquely enhanced voice box, but catches himself, having grown used to the protuberance.

R. Lightning: This tag match is scheduled for one fall! Coming first to the ring, in the service of the nation of Nouveaux Richonia, but full-blooded Americans both, the reverend ZEEEEEEEEEEBO SYKES AND UNCLE SLAAAAAAAAM! CHURCH AND STATE!

The powerful sonic blast rips the skin off of those seated in front of Reginald, but everyone else cheers, many of them converted to the good Reverend's brand of religion, mainly because it involves murder. Giant goons dressed in choir gowns clap and sing gospel music as Sykes and Uncle Slam walk toward the ring. Slam is visibly uncomfortable with the procession.

R. Lightning: And now, the challengers, hailing from the Old American state of West Virginia, NICK AND ALESSANDRO SPARTAAAAAAAAAAAA!

Nick walks to the ring with a body covered by white cloth, wrapped with black straps, slung over his back. He sets the body at the side of the ring and then climbs in between the intestines turned ropes.

Nick braids his fingers and extends his arms, popping the knuckles. Uncle Slam starts to enter the ring, but Zeebo puts his hand on Slam's shoulder and quietly says, "Brother, let me be the first to show these contemptible heathens the consequences of straying from the Lord's path." Uncle Slam gets back onto the apron and Sykes leaps over the rope.

A man is dragged next to Caligula's throne, kicking and screaming. He is thrown to the ground and Caligula places his foot on the man's head so he can't get up.

"Your Majesty, I committed no crimes!" the man protests, "I've raped on your holidays and prayed to you every day! Why do you punish me?"

"You truly are a loyal subject and I regret these unfortunate circumstances." Caligula licks his lips and grins. "No, I misspeak, you are quite lucky to be in the presence of your God and be a tool in his hands. Men, stick the pike in this fag's asshole."

The pike goes all the way through the man's body and extends out of his mouth, yet somehow he continues to live. Tape wraps around his body to stop the quivering and then Caligula lifts the body up.

"Let the match begin!"

The man is slammed into a gong and his head explodes, signaling the start of the match.

J.R.: Here we go! Science against God, which is truly superior?

WW: God, obviously.

Zeebo Sykes walks toward Nick, easily dodging punches and speaks in a reassuring voice. "Child, repent your sinning ways and the Lord will give you unimaginable blessings. I've known many who knew not the ways of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, for many, many years. But I showed them the way and I can show it to you, as well. All I need is to hear you say that you accept Jesus as your savior."

"What? You actually believe in all that? I thought it was just a gimmick."

Zeebo's face twists in anger. "God is no gimmick, son. If you reject our Lord thrice, His wrath will be upon you."

Nick shakes his head, "Are you dense? Are you retarded or something? There is no God!"

Zeebo rockets a punch into Nick's gut that sends him flying into the ropes. Nick tries to stand, but his knees buckle underneath him.

WW: THAT is the power of God, my friend.

"I warned you, heathen," Zeebo shakes his hand, "Once more and God will see that there is not a fourth."

Nick throws an electro-magnetic punch, put it doesn't even faze Sykes! He rapidly throws more punches, but all to no fucking effect! Sykes jumps into the air, doing a somersault and landing on Nick's shoulders, putting him into the Conversion Chart!

J.R.: CONVERSION CHART! Zeebo is already using the Conversion Chart! How is Sparta going to break out of that?

WW: There's only one way to get out of the Conversion Chart, Jim, and that is to submit to the Lord.

"Repent and accept your Lord!" Zeebo pulls hard and Nick yells out in pain. "DO YOU ACCEPT GOD?"

"NO!"

After rejecting God again, Nick's body falls limp and both he and Sykes collapse into a heap.

J.R.: This is an unorthodox tag, but I don't think Caligula is going to oppose it!

WW: That's bullshit! Now I hate the Sparta brothers!

The BODY BAG outside of the ring bounces around as if the person inside can't escape. Zeebo watches it, expecting some kind of attack that never comes. Finally he starts laughing at the incompetence of his opponents.

"You fools, how will science save you now? God would rescue you from your plight, but you reject him and his salvation!"

"Science won't save you," Nick's voice comes from behind Sykes. "In fact, I think this'll probably hurt, though I've never tried it before. Right now, I've ionized your body into radicals. You probably don't know what that means, so I'll demonstrate."

Sykes turns around in time to watch Nick raise his arm, knocking a torch from its perch high above the ring. When it falls down, Nick spin kicks it into Zeebo's face and AN EXPLOSION FILLS THE RING.

J.R.: BAH GAWD, ZEEBO SYKES JUST EXPLODED!

WW: BUT HOW? THE POWER OF GOD CANNOT BE DEFEATED?

Outside of the smoke, Nick brushes the ashes off of his clothes. "It's quite a simple reaction. I'm a little surprised I didn't think of it before. You see, free radicals are a necessary part of combustion, which typically involves oxygen molecules, but I decided to improvise a little. All I needed was a little heat to overcome the energy barrier."

J.R.: I feel smart!

WW: Whatever.

Uncle Slam points to the smoke cloud. "You're a real idiot, Sparta. You never realized what Reverend Sykes is."

"What to you me-" Nick is cut off by a punch in the back of the head. A completely nude Zeebo Sykes stands above Sparta's prone body. Sykes rips off Nick's shirt and makes an improvised loin cloth.

WW: Not that I'm into that kind of queer thing, but, wow, Reverend Sykes has a pretty big dick.

"Look what you've done to me, heretic," Zeebo holds his hands to the sides of his dick. "You've exposed my privates like some sort of ungodly barbarian! The Lord does not take kindly to nudity outside of the sanctity of marriage!" Zeebo kicks Nick in the ribs. "Stand, sinner, and suffer!"

Nick rises to his feet and sneers at Sykes, who cocks his fist back. Sykes charges forward, but he ducks under the punch and Zeebo instead punches Uncle Slam!

J.R.: Zeebo fell for the oldest trick in the book! He must be feeling awful foolish about now!

As Uncle Slam starts to recover, Zeebo turns in time to catch an uppercut to the chin. The blow rattles his brain and he falls and he can't get up!

"My powers weren't affecting you, so I had to take the traditional approach." Nick grabs Zeebo by the ankles and spins him around. Using his magnetism, he pulls the turnbuckles out one at a time, causing each to hit Sykes in the fucking head. Then he throws Sykes into Uncle Slam's arms, sending them both to the ground.

J.R.: It seems that Nick has taken the advantage and I don't think he's going to give it up without a fight!

WW: That's fucking stupid, J.R. Who would willingly give up an advantage? Are you a moron?

"That's a tag in my book," Uncle Slam says, throwing the unconscious Sykes to the side. "Okay, time to see how a patriot fights!" Slam slides onto the mat and then rises into a clothesline, knocking Nick Sparta to the canvas.

"You don't have the luxury of blind faith in God, Slam," Sparta throws a double fisted punch into the air, the blast like an explosion into Uncle Slam's chest and sending him back out of the ring.

WW: THIS IS COMPLETELY UNACCEPTABLE. If I wasn't chained to the announcer's table, I'd body slam Nick Sparta right into an erect penis!

J.R.: It's incredible that Nick Sparta could take on both members of Church and State single-handedly! I haven't seen anything like it in years!

Uncle Slam lies next to Zeebo Sykes, who is still wobbly. "Zeebo, this isn't working. We're going to have to do something drastic."

"You mean ... ?"

"That's right."

Lifting Sykes up, Slam puts his palm under Sykes' feet and SHOT PUTS him into the air!

"FASTBALL SPECIAL: GOD STYLE!"

SYKES STARTS DOING A HIGH SPEED HOLY ROLLER AND NOTHING NICK THROWS AT SYKES CAN STOP HIM. NICK TRIES TO CATCH IT, BUT THE FRICTION BURNS HIS HANDS AND HE HAS TO LET GO, ALLOWING THE FULL FORCE OF THE HOLY ROLLER TO HURL HIM INTO THE STANDS. AS HIS BODY BOUNCES AND FLIPS THROUGH THE SEATS, FANS ARE RIPPED TO SHREADS, DOUSING THE OTHERS IN BLOOD. These lucky fans use the blood to lubricate their dicks.

WW: BAM!

Zeebo jumps over the barrier and climbs the stairs, walking toward Nick. "If you repent your sins now and accept Jesus, the Lord may still allow you into Heaven. You should take my advice or else burn in HELL!" Sykes grabs two fans and pierces one's torso with the other to form a crucifix. He raises it high above his head and as he's bringing it down on Nick Sparta's head ...

NICK FUCKING PULLS ZEEBO'S LOIN CLOTH OFF!

Zeebo desperately tries to cover his nakedness and then gets speared back into the fighting pit.

J.R.: Sparta took advantage of Christian sex issues to knock Zeebo Sykes on his ass!

WW: I know I already said this once, but Zeebo has a mighty impressive cock.

With his hands holding his junk, the Reverend runs and tags Uncle Slam, who then looks at his own hand with mild disgust. Slam marches to Nick and grabs him by the throat.

"Look, son," Slam pulls Nick's face toward his own, "Sykes is out of his fucking mind. If you give up, you'll save us all a lot of grief." And then Uncle Slam's body turns heavy. He hadn't noticed that the whole time Nick's eyes had been rolled back in his head and his body limp. "Sh-Shit."

The wrapped body rises up in the air and starts spinning, then FLIES STRAIGHT AT UNCLE SLAM'S BACK. Just before the SCHIZO CRUSHER connects, Uncle Slam feels extremely light, but he doesn't have enough time to move before he's SLAMMED into the wall.

J.R.: SCHIZO CRUSHER! SCHIZO CRUSHER! SCHIZO CRUSHER!

WW: Blah, blah, blah. Whatever. Science is gay.

Zeebo, wearing a human skull on his dick, shouts, "What kind of witchcraft is this?" He doesn't notice the cement under his feet cracking. And then FUCKING AL SPARTA FALLS ON ZEEBO'S HEAD AT 500 METERS PER SECOND PER SECOND SENDING HIM STRAIGHT INTO THE GROUND LIKE A STAKE.

J.R.: WHAT'S GOING ON? Al Sparta was never wrapped up in anything! He was hiding in the rafters!

WW: Fucking cheating scientists with their stupid faggot science.

Al lays a hand on Syke's head for a pin, but Zeebo leaps out of the hole like the attack didn't hurt him at all!

"Your devil power can't hurt me, I'm under the protection of God!" Sykes punches straight with both fists into Al's chest, blowing him away into the wall and he fall next to his brother.

WW: Take that, science!

J.R.: Do you actually believe in that non-sense?

WW: Of course I don't believe in science.

Zeebo spins into the Holy Roller, but Al uses his gravity defying power to rise into the air above the attack.

"Your witchery can never out-think God! I knew you were going to do that!" Sykes lands feet first against the wall and pushes off and grabs Al, putting him into the GODDAMNED HOLY DRIVER! They both start plummeting to the ground, though Al quickly reduces the gravity around him to reduce the velocity of the fall. When Sykes notices this he laughs.

"Gravity won't save you. Gravity is only an assumption and an incorrect one at that." AND SUDDENLY THEY STOP IN MID-AIR!

J.R.: The Reverend's refusal to believe in science and Al Sparta's science-based powers cancelled each other out! They're stuck in the air!

WW: Don't worry, Jim. God will sort this out.

Uncle Slam, recovering from the Schizo Crusher, jumps up and lands on Zeebo's shoulders for THE HOLIER DRIVER, but still they don't move. He even hops up and down and still nothing happens! Even his rocket hat can't make them budge.

"Damn it, Reverend Sykes," Uncle Slam says. "Can you just believe in gravity for a few seconds?"

"And give in to heresy? I think not!"

BUT SUDDENLY THEY START FALLING ANYWAY! Church and State are confused as they go into free fall, that is until Uncle Slam catches a phantom punch in the back, sending all three bodies spinning out of control. Nick Sparta coughs up blood when his brother hits the cement. He wipes it away and walks toward the badly hurt trio.

WW: There is no way those tags should count, Jim. It's just plain un-American, p/c liberal FAGGERY DAGGERY DOO.

J.R.: Yes.

Nick wipes the blood from his mouth. "Are you ready to accept science as your Lord and Savior, Uncle Tom and Ms. America?"

Sykes pops up to his feet and is ready to beat the shit out of Nick when Uncle Slam grabs his ankle. "Be smart about this, Zeebo. When we beat up his brother, it hurts him too." Zeebo nods and pulls Al up by his hair. Nick winces in pain.

"It's time for a new technique, Slam." Sykes holds one arm and Slam grabs the other. "THE SEPARATION OF CHURCH AND STATE!" THE TWO JUMP UP AND KICK THE SOLES OF THEIR FEET TOGETHER AT CHEST LEVEL, DISLOCATING AL'S SHOULDERS! Nick's arms pop and he falls to his knees.

J.R.: Bah Gawd, how is Sparta going to recover when their opponents can beat up both for the price of one!

Sykes holds Al up with a headlock while Uncle Slam pounds away at his stomach, making it impossible for Nick to breathe. His head starts getting light and he's sure he's going to pass out. He wonders, what happens when we're both unconscious?

Just then, Sykes lets go of the hold and turns Al's head under his shoulder and DDTs him. Blood runs down Nick's forehead. "Dammit," Nick mumbles, trying to think of a way out of this situation, but he knows his powers won't work against Sykes. "There's only one thing left," he says to himself while eyeing the wrapped up body. The snaps attract Uncle Slam's attention and he watches the cloth unwrap to reveal PIECES OF SCRAP METAL!

J.R.: That body wasn't a body at all!

WW: No! Uncle Slam, Reverend Sykes, those assholes tricked you!

Nick sends out his electro-magnetic stand, which picks up the TWISTED METAL. Slam taps on Zeebo's shoulder while Zeebo is busy wailing on Al Sparta's face. "What is it, Uncle Slam? Is the heathen dead?"

"Get out of the way, Zeebo!" Slam dives on top of Sykes to push him out of the way as dozens of pieces of sharpened metal dig into Uncle Slam's back. He grunts, knowing that his lungs must have been pierced.

Uncle Slam's body is too heavy for Reverend Sykes to push off of his back and too hurt to get off of Sykes himself. Underneath it all, Nick Sparta can feel the pressure of the two massive bodies on his brother. He stumbles onto Uncle Slam for the pin.

Some guy in the audience with a black and white striped shirt climbs out of the stands and counts.

ONE, TWO, THREE!

J.R.: Nick and Al Sparta win! What a come back!

WW: Wait, why wasn't Al Sparta considered pinned.

J.R.: Well, Nick was the legal man.

WW: But don't your opponent's shoulders have to be touching the mat for the pin to count?

J.R.: Well, technically.

WW: THEN WHAT THE FUCK!

Warrior leaps out of his seat and starts dragging the announcer's table across the stadium, while Jim Ross chokes from the chain around his neck that secured him in place. Warrior gorilla press slams the referee into the table and then starts stabbing him with the pieces of metal that Nick Sparta didn't use.

FUCKING MEANWHILE, Caligula smiles, watching the mayhem below. He swishes his wine in his mouth. It's not as good as the fermented blood he usually drank, but it would have to do. "Oh well. More than enough blood was spilled tonight for a few more casks of the good stuff." Then he hears a knock at the door.

"Sir, the barbarian king Zeed is within 5 miles of Castlevania," a young man in ragged clothes announces, bent over and out of breath. "He killed your brother Gaius and massacred his legion."

"Yawn," Caligula says and motions for the messenger to leave.

"That doesn't concern you, my Lord?" When he sees Caligula look at him, the messenger falls to his knees. "His army numbers in the millions."

"Whatever. I'm watching people get murdered."

"I see you think you're pretty hot shit," the messenger says, rising back to his feet.

"How dare you speak to your emperor like that," Germanicus says, speaking out.

The messenger grins slightly. "How dare you?"

"Brother, are you going to stand this insolence?" Germanicus looks to his side, but Caligula hasn't moved.

Caligula finally stands up after a pregnant pause. "Did they send you?"

"I sent myself. I thought I should let you know what's coming to you."

"My God." Caligula falls on his ass. "It really is you."

The Brit walks up behind the messenger. "I'm glad you remember us. Though obviously not too well by the look of things."

"Fuck you, I'll rip your heart out." Caligula throws his throne at the Brit, who deftly sidesteps it.

"I'd be more worried about your heart," the Brit waves his finger. "You should have listened to us before. Look at you now. Your contemptible decadence and your outrageous 'bloodsport,' though we all know what it really is."

"I'M EMPEROR! I'M GOD!"

"Yes, another man says that as well. Zeed is coming." The Brit turns around and starts walking away. The messenger collapses into a heap, unconscious. The Brit stops. "If he doesn't kill you, we will."

Caligula charges at the Brit in a rage, but he runs into an invisible wall.

Germanicus watches with a blank expression and says, "You made enemies with the wrong man, Caligula." Then he too falls unconscious.
Vinny
[00:10] How can you get an erect dick into your own ass?
Joined: 16 Jan 2007
Posts: 5181
(Wed May 09, 2007 2:16 pm)
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Post     Re: CALIGULA LIGHTNING's ELEGY OF EXTINCTION (#23)

In the Imperial Box, Caligula Lightning is nervously grinding the skull of a boar between his molars. With a sick crunch, the bone fragments spray from his mouth, a trickle of blood from Caligula’s torn gum sliding down his lip.

A sweat-drenched guard stumbles into the Imperial box, crashing onto the floor. His sword slides across the floor as he struggles to stand up.

“Your Majesty, enemies are attempting to penetrate the outer wall of Castlevania!” the guard shouts while bowing. Caligula seems distant, fixed on something else as he skins a dead fox plucked from his barrel of meat with his severely exaggerated canine teeth. “Y-Your Majesty, we have to mount a stronger defense!”

Innards fly as Caligula snaps open the ribcage of the fox. The greasy entrails slide down his thick beard. Lightning continues devouring the fox absent-mindedly until he begins to CHEW ON HIS OWN FINGERS. The guard attempts to interrupt Caligula as blood sprays from his fingers but Caligula is lost in another world.

“Emperor … if Zeed makes his way in here we’ll all surely-“ the guard is interrupted when CALIGULA’S MASSIVE PAW SLAMS HIM INTO THE WALL, SPLATTERING HIM AGAINST THE BRICKS LIKE A FLY. THE HAPLESS GUARD WHEEZES, DESPERATELY trying to SUCK AIR into his EXPOSED LUNGS.

“Die? DIE?” CALIGULA LIGHTNING’S BULGING EYE IS AN INCH AWAY FROM THE GUARD’S FACE. “DEATH? HAH! DEATH WAS MY GOAL. A PERFECT DEATH AS A CAPSTONE FOR AN EXISTENCE OF MISERY WAS MY PLAN.”

The guard slowly gurgles out his spleen in response. Caligula slicks his sweat-soaked hair back as he attempts to regain his composure.

“This ‘humanity’ has lived long enough. THIS ABSURD SPECIES DRIVEN TO PROCREATE AND SPREAD SUFFERING TO ANOTHER GENERATION, THESE IGNORANT FOOLS THAT PACK MY ARENAS TO WALLOW IN THE DESTRUCTION OF LIFE, THEY WILL ALL DIE. WE WILL ALL DIE! THIS WHOLE COUNTRY- NO, PLANET, IS IN ITS FINAL MOMENTS! Even BEFORE that … THAT DEGENERATE ZEED decided to throw his HAT INTO THE RING this SICK, PUTRID WORLD was already on the BRINK OF DESTRUCTION!”

The guard shits a little.

“Do you think I’m afraid of ZEED? Hah! IF ZEED WANTS TO TAKE MY LIFE IN HIS ENDLESS QUEST FOR POWER, SO BE IT, BUT I WON’T JUST HAND IT OVER. I will rip his HEART and DEVOUR HIS SOUL. His SPIRIT will be packed TIGHTLY within my WASTE. Every one will be MURDERED, even those BEYOND the TOWERING WALLS OF OPRESSESION that keep us LOCKED in NEW AMERICA. THEY WILL ALL DIE. THIS WILL BE MY ELEGY OF EXTINCTION FOR THE HUMAN RACE!!”

Caligula pulls his hand back and slings the blood and guts from it. Turning to the ravenous crowd below, he smiles.

“I’ll give you once last sight, you pitiful monsters. Make the Last House on the Left your eulogy,” Caligula says, pulling a crank before he leaves the Imperial box.

J.R.: Wait, WHAT’S BEING LOWERED?

Huge men pull on chains and yank levers and shit as a drive-in sized sheet of skin is UNFURLED over the north wall of the ballroom. A lone soldier pushes out a projector and turns it on. The screen shows Castlevania from the outside but within the three walls used for protection from invading goon forces.

J.R.: Wait a minute, does this mean what I think it means?

The screen shows Lunar Plexus, the ten foot tall Adonis standing with his fists on his hips and he surveys the castle. A lone Holy Lightning Empire servant hands him a scroll. He unravels it to reveal a map of Castlevania.

J.R.: They have to ESCAPE from CASTLEVANIA? Castlevania is almost the size of a city!

“Hmph,” Plexus mutters, tucking the map under his belt, before heading towards one of the entrances.

-----

In an underground tunnel in Castlevania, the ILLUSIONIST sits in a boat as the Ferryman takes him deeper into the castle. The ILLUSIONIST is nervously shuffling a deck of cards as the cloaked Ferryman rows away.

“Geez, this place is awfully creepy,” the ILLUSIONIST says as the cards whip around in his dexterous hands. Suddenly, the deck pops from his hands and falls into the river. Cursing him, the ILLUSIONIST shoves a gloved hand into the river only to have it CHOMPED ON BY A MERMAN! The Merman viciously tears the ILLUSIONIST’S ARM OFF, FILLING THE RIVER WITH BLOOD, BEFORE SINKING BACK BELOW. The ILLUSIONIST collapses in the boat, SCREAMING IN TERROR, before he watches his ARM POP out of his TORN SLEEVE. It was just magic!

“W-W-What the hell was that THING?” the ILLUSIONIST stutters.

“One of the creatures concocted by that devilish No Man’s Land,” the Ferryman mutters, “Half man, half fish I suppose … but it mostly looks like a huge fish with arms. You’re going to be meeting a lot of bizarre and impossible creatures in this castle, lad.”

“Oh boy …” the ILLUSIONIST says to himself as the ferry vanishes within a thick fog.

-----

“Ooh, you better watch out for that” the invisible demon Phobos mutters to Deimos. Deimos whips around with his pistol and takes aim at a Ouija board flying across the room at him. The bullets reduce the possessed coffee table to splinters and Deimos quickly holsters the weapon.

“What the hell kind of place is this?” Deimos mutters as he walks through the Long Library. “Are these creatures demons?”

“Ehh, abortions of God, maybe,” Phobos rasps as he towers over the bookshelves, “but I don’t sense any other demons. Most of these monsters seem to be parlor tricks more than anything, maybe a few hormone-imbalanced mutants here and there.”

A Marionette descends from the rafters and wraps its legs around Deimos’ neck. As it attempts to strangle Deimos, he grabs a knife from his boot and JAMS it through the MARIONETTE’S CHEST. Blood SPEWS from the WOODEN CREATURE and falls to the ground. Deimos opens up the Marionette’s faceplate to reveal the face of a child. It was merely an ORPHAN encased within a MARIONETTE.

“What the hell is Caligula’s game. I thought I was supposed to be fighting those other pricks,” Deimos says, cleaning his knife.

“And what’s the fun in that?” Phobos cackles. “Come on. If I have to be bound to a mortal, he better be the champ.”

-----

Racing through the dreary tunnels of the Abandoned Mine in a mine cart, Super Agent Harry Underwood drives several hundred pounds of iron into zombie after zombie. Their limbs spin violently through the air like so many double page spreads in Berserk, Underwood firing off his 9mm into the shambling corpses. A giant BAT descends from the CEILING and DIVEBOMBS towards UNDERWOOD. Underwood merely OPENS HIS MOUTH and CATCHES the BAT in his TEETH, Underwood’s BEASTIAL FANGS ripping open its flesh.

CLANG! The mine cart slams into a metal stopper or whatever the fuck it’s called and Harry is flung forward like a bullet. He tucks and rolls to safety along, spits out the bat corpse, and slinks into the darkness. Underwood SIDLES ALONG the CAVE WALL as monstrous creatures rush by. As he moves further into the cave, he finds a MAID with a vacuum cleaner, mindlessly sucking up the copious amounts of dirt on the mine floor.

“Ooh, here it comes,” Underwood mutters from his position against the cave wall, “Here comes the NIGHT TRAIN.” And with THAT he SPRINGS UPON HER, HOLDING HIS KNIFE to the MAID’S THROAT. “WHERE’S THE FUCKING BELT?!”

She SUDDENLY CLAMPS her TEETH onto Underwood’s arm, causing him to drop his knife and relinquish her. Noticing the maid is IN FACT some sort of MONSTER ZOMBIE or SOMETHING, Harry BITES the INFECTED FLESH and TEARS THAT SHIT OUT.

“You’re stupid,” Harry GRINS as he chews on his OWN MEAT as if it were cud, “And you’re gonna be stupid and dead.” The MAID rushes FORWARD and HARRY SLIDES out of danger. Grabbing the maid’s VACUUM, HE SHOVES THAT SHIT INTO THE MAID’S STOMACH, DRIVING ALL THE WAY INTO HER ORGANS.

“DYNAMITE!” Harry howls. Underwood flips the switch on and begins SUCKING her INTESTINES into the VACUUM. “RIP AND TEAR!” Once the job is finished, Harry Underwood tosses the vacuum aside and marches forward. As he continues through the winding passages of the maze-like mine, he comes to a HUGE, STEEL DOOR.

“I like what I see! An important looking door …” Harry Underwood smiles, his fangs growing as a blonde fur protrudes from from his cheeks. The DOOR IS BLOWN DOWN by a powerful FORCE, white light pouring from behind Underwood and into the pitch-black room.

“Dark …” Harry says, pulling a flare out of his pocket. As soon as he lights it he sets his eye on a horrific creature, a man nearly three stories tall with hooks tied to chains driven through his flesh. His skin is a sickly yellow, his hair hangs loosely from his scalp in long, gray strands, and his eyes look dead. Underwood holds his flare to the nearby wall to reveal a plaque. BEEZLEBUB LIGHTNING, it reads. One of Caligula’s poor brothers, strung up by Caligula and pumped full of the same ultra-steroids that were used on Reginald Lightning’s throat. Whether he intended to torture his brother or shape him into a weapon, only Caligula knows. Beezlebub Lightning’s head moves slightly, causing a small swarm of flies to rush out of his ear canal.

J.R.: Bah Gawd, what kind of … NIGHTMARISH MONSTROSITY is THAT?

W.W.: ENTERTAINMENT, JIM. ENTERTAINMENT.

The SHADOW COVERED Harry Underwood’s TOOTHY GRIN and his glowing, green eyes are the only thing that can be seen in the darkness.

“YOU ARE HUGE! THAT MEANS YOU HAVE HUGE GUTS!” UNDERWOOD SQUATS DOWN, HIS NECK MUSCLES BULGING AS HE HOLDS HIS HANDS OUT IN AMAZEMENT. “DANCE! DANCE, BONEDADDY!” HARRY UNDERWOOD LEAPS FORWARD IN HIS WERE-BEAR FORM.

-----

W.W.: I never understood why had to keep cutting away when something awesome would happen.

Lunar Plexus marches along a dining table as tons of HUGE SUITS OF ARMOR hurl SPINNING AXE BLADES at Plexus. Plexus yawns lazily as he flings the axes back at the suits of armor, exploding them into shrapnel. Even more suddenly, FEROCIOUS WOLVES burst through the DINING HALL WINDOWS.

”Ho hum,” Plexus mutters as a WARG leaps towards him. He catches it by the jaws and RIPS IT IN HALF in one swift motion, showering its guts on the other would be attackers. Another wolf fails at its attack and Plexus rewards it by shoving a candelabra into its eyes. Smashing the rest with his fists into oblivion, he notices one of the wolves gnawing weakly on his leg. He unceremoniously yanks it off his thigh and puts his boot to its skull, crushing it into the floor. He drags his shoe across the marble, leaving a streak of brain and blood.

“I guess I go up,” Plexus says, looking at his map while accidentally walking through a wall. As he tromps up a staircase, his attention focused on the map, a SPEAR SUDDENLY JAMS ITSELF THROUGH ONE END OF HIS BICEP AND OUT THE OTHER. Gripping onto the spear is a SKELETAL BIRD DEMON or something carried by a BLUE GARGOYLE.

W.W.: WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?

The BIRD DEMON SHRIEKS as him and his PARTNER LIFT PLEXUS into the air by his BICEP.

“Enough of this stupid shit,” LUNAR PLEXUS flexes his BICEP, binding the STEEL hard against his bone. With it firmly in position, Lunar Plexus FLINGS HIS ARM UP and the HANDLE of the SPEAR JAMS ITSELF INTO THE BIRD MONSTER’S THROAT. Plexus rips the SPEAR from its throat as the BIRD DEMON GRIPS at its SMASHED LARYNX. The BLUE GARGOYLE flies HIGHER and HIGHER while PLEXUS climbs his way on TOP of the GARGOYLE. Raising the SPEAR, Plexus JAMS the weapon THROUGH ONE OF THE GARGOYLE’S EYES and OUT THE OTHER.

J.R.: It doesn’t seem like Plexus is having much trouble with the creatures Caligula unleashed on him!

As the BLUE GARGOYLE howls, Lunar Plexus leaps off its shoulders and grabs on a CHANDELIER hanging above. The skeletal bird demon REBOUNDS OFF the GARGOYLE’S FACE, TORPEDOING into PLEXUS’S CHEST. A scant amount of blood comes spitting out of Lunar’s mouth but he shrugs it off and grabs the bird by the legs. Plexus easily hurls him up into ceiling with one arm. The bird monster bounces off, crashes onto the top of the chandelier, and looks up to see PLEXUS standing above him.

PLEXUS drops onto the back of the BIRD DEMON and GRABS ITS ANKLES. Plexus PULLS BACK on the LEGS and places the BIRD in a BOSTON CRAB.

J.R.: Wait, THAT’S THE QUIETUS GIBBOUS!

Lunar Plexus REARS BACK, PULLING THE BIRD DEMON’S LEGS BACK until his body RESEMBLES A CRESCENT MOON. THE BIRD SHRIEKS AS HIS ABDOMEN RIPS OPEN, SPILLING HIS ORGANS OUT ON THE TOP OF THE CHANDELIER. The blue gargoyle STRUGGLES on the floor below, the spear still shoved through his eyes, as BLOOD RAINS DOWN ON HIM. With the bird demon sufficiently murdered, Plexus tears off his HEAD and USES the PEAK TO BREAK THE CHAIN HOLDING UP THE CHANDELIER. Lunar Plexus then rides the chandelier down to the ground, crushing the gargoyle into a fine paste.

“Pft,” Lunar Plexus says, whipping out his dick and pissing on both demons’ remains, “Stupid faggots.”

-----

Elsewhere in the castle, a lone Axe Armor trudges up the stairs of the Outer Wall of Castlevania. Another Axe Armor, this one RED, appears from the opposite end of the hallway. As the two pass, the original Axe Armor begins to shake uncontrollably. The red Axe Armor stops and turns to the original, causing the original to tremble harder. A thin stream of yellow liquid pours from the original Axe Armor’s crotch plate as the RED AXE ARMOR slowly raises its AXE.

“N-Not again!” Vic Powers, THE ILLUSIONIST, says from within his AXE ARMOR DISGUISE. The AXE CRASHES down on the AXE ARMOR, SPLITTING IT IN TWO, SPRAYING BLOOD into the AIR. However, THE ILLUSIONIST is actually behind the AXE ARMOR and in ONE PIECE, a rose clutched in his mouth.

W.W.: Hey, it’s that guy. The one who sucks.

“It was merely an ILLUSION,” Vic smiles. The red Axe Armor looks at the heap of steel he destroyed and notices a pile of KETCHUP PACKETS at the bottom. The ILLUSIONIST hurls a STORM of PLAYING CARDS that RIP THROUGH the RED AXE ARMOR, reducing it to metal shavings.

“It’s all just SLEIGHT OF HAND,” the ILLUSIONIST smiles, whipping an Ace of Hearts around in his fingers. The edge cuts his gloved hand and blood sprays as the ILLUSIONIST shrieks.

W.W.: Gay. Change it.

“Oh Jesus, this place truly is a nightmare,” the ILLUSIONIST says as he wraps his finger with a series of colored handkerchiefs. “How am I ever going to win this match? What should I do?” the ILLUSIONIST asks seemingly no one, until the camera pans down to reveal the DILETTANTE’S FUCKING SKULL.

You know what you must do, Vic …

“No, I can’t …” the ILLUSIONIST’s lower lip trembles as he speaks.

The only way to achieve victory is to use that move …

“Not that move …”

W.W.: Oh Gaaaawd, this is soooo gaaaaay.

J.R.: Quiet Warrior, I’m trying to hear the exposition!

The ILLUSIONIST enters The Clock Tower and begins navigating himself across spinning gears and cogs while basically squealing in fright. SUDDENLY, MEDUSA HEADS BEGIN FLYING AT THE ILLUSIONIST, except instead of actual Medusa Heads they are severed heads of women painted blue with stakes stapled to the scalp that are shot out of a cannon. The ILLUSIONIST ducks and rolls away from the heads which burst harmlessly against the brick walls.

J.R.: This makes very little sense, but it certainly is engaging!

As the ILLUSIONIST climbs ladders to get away from the CRANIUM CANNONBALLS, he comes upon the HEART OF THE CLOCK TOWER. The ground RUMBLES with the MECHANIC TWISTING and TURNING of the GEARS that power the clock. The whole room shakes briefly when the MINUTE HAND moves. As the ILLUSIONIST takes in the grand sight, a KNIFE flies out of NOWHERE and IMPALES the ILLUSIONIST’S SHOULDER.

“AIYEEEE!” the ILLUSIONIST gays as BLOOD squirts from the hole. The ILLUSIONIST turns his head to see a SHADOWY FIGURE standing on the minute hand. The MOONLIGHT POURS through some STAINED GLASS WINDOWS in the ROOM and illuminates the figure, revealing a BLUE-SKINNED MAN clutching a DOZEN KNIVES while standing in a really awkward position.

W.W.: This is very queer. And I know a thing or to about queers.

J.R.: Huh?

W.W.: Shut the fuck up, you know what I mean.

“WRYYYYYYY!” the VAMPIRIC-LIKE MAN screams while bending backwards so far he actually pokes his head out from under his crotch. The VAMPIRE VANISHES and the ILLUSIONIST’s CHEST IS SUDDENLY FILLED WITH KNIVES.

W.W.: HOLY SHIT!

J.R.: Wait, WHAT HAPPENED?! That androgynous fellow vanished and now the ILLUSIONIST has been shish kabobbed!

“Guuuuh!” the ILLUSIONIST groans as he drops to his knees, blood seeping through his white shirt. The vampiric man saunters forward while balancing a knife using the tip of his finger. As blood pours from the ILLUSIONIST’s chest and onto his slacks, the vampire poses faggily in front of him.

“You can never beat me as long as I have these!” he hisses, pointing to his THE TWO TIME DIAMONDS PIERCING HIS NIPPLES.

J.R.: THE TIME DIAMONDS! I thought they were all destroyed! With those, that creature can alter the flow of time!

“Resisting me is USELESS!” the vampire throws a knife at the ILLUSIONIST’s head. Suddenly, a SWORD BURSTS from the ILLUSIONIST’s top hat and STABS the vampire through his forehead. “W-WHAT?!” the VAMPIRE GRUNTS.

“That was a close one,” the ILLUSIONIST says as he unbuttons his shirt. Suddenly, a dozen dead pigeons with the vampire’s knives impaling them fall out. The ILLUSIONIST hops to his FEET and points dramatically towards his opponent.

J.R.: I’m actually a little impressed! Maybe the ILLUSIONIST won’t die horrifically after all.

W.W.: You are such a pessimist, Jim.

The ILLUSIONIST hurls DECKS of RAZOR SHARP CARDS at the VAMPIRE. The vampire, with a sword still jammed through his head, HOLDS UP A HAND and his TIME DIAMOND NIPPLE PIERCINGS begin to GLOW. The CARDS SLOW to a STOP and the VAMPIRE FLICKS the FRONT ONE with his finger. That card bounces into another card which bounces into another until the ENTIRE ATTACK IS REVERSED! Time resumes and the STORM OF PLAYING CARDS strikes the ILLUSIONIST, knocking him backwards into some GRINDING GEARS.

“Ouch, that really hurRRRGGGAAAH!!” the ILLUSIONIST’S HEAD COLLAPSES AS HE IS SUCKED INTO THE MACHINERY! Blood SPRAYS from all CORNERS as the ILLUSIONIST’S BODY IS TORN APART!

J.R.: BAH GAWD! BAH GAWD! THE ILLUSIONIST IS DEAD!

W.W.: YEAAAAAAAAAH!!

The vampire licks the blood showered on his frame ferociously while pulling the sword from his head. Dropping the blade, he begins FINGERING the hole in his forehead.

“What the hell? Why is this not healing?” the vampire mutters to himself while walking through the halls of the Clock Tower while casting a huge, badass shadow on the wall. He wrings his hair out and swishes the fresh blood around in his mouth.

“Wait a minute …” he mutters as the vampire begins to pass a mirror. As he passes it, what we SEE is NOT THE VAMPIRE’S REFLECTION (as vampires don’t HAVE reflections) but rather the ILLUSIONIST SNEAKING RIGHT BESIDE HIM, HIDDEN IN HIS SHADOW.

“T-THIS IS RABBIT’S BLOOD!!” the vampire screams. TWO GLOVE HANDS reach up from UNDER the VAMPIRE’S SHOULDERS and RIP OFF THE VAMPIRE’S NIPPLES!

J.R.: THE ILLUSIONIST IS ALIVE, AND HE JUST RIPPED OFF THAT VAMPIRE’S NIPPLES!

“I noticed an odd glow right before you vanished and I was attacked with no recollection of what happened,” the ILLUSIONIST says, jingling the time diamonds hanging from the vampire nipples. “I guess it’s safe to assume that these trinkets are the source of your powers?”

“Y-You … !” the vampire hisses as he holds his bleeding pectorals. THE VAMPIRE BODY TWISTS INTO IMPOSSIBLE SHAPES AS HE SHRIEKS “WRYYYYYYY!” ONCE MORE. INSTANTLY KNIVES BURST FROM HIS FLESH, COVERING THE VAMPIRE IN BLADES. The VAMPIRE SPINS WILDLY LIKE A TORPEDO TOWARDS THE ILLUSIONIST AS THE ILLUSIONIST SHUFFLES A PAIR OF CARDS.

“SHOW TIME!!” THE ILLUSIONIST SHOUTS. A HUGE PUFF OF PURPLE SMOKE APPEARS AND THE DEVIL’S TORTURE CHAMBER APPEARS BEFORE THE ILLUSIONIST. The LARGE BOX OPENS, revealing numerous SPIKES inside, and VAMPIRE SOARS in. DOOR SLAMS SHUT and its SPIKES JAM into the VAMPIRE’S BODY.

“Thank you,” the ILLUSIONIST bows, before he is FROZEN by the sound of CLAPPING. His head immediately BOLTS towards the CLOCK where he sees the BLUE-SKINNED VAMPIRE STANDING on the MINUTE HAND!

“Your magic is as shitty as your fighting ability,” the vampire laughs. He pulls a knife from his belt and takes aim before he SUDDENLY GROWS WEAK. The vampire SLUMPS down and drops his blade.

“Is it?” the ILLUSIONIST smiles. The ILLUSIONIST opens the DEVIL’S TORTURE CHAMBER OPENS TO REVEAL ALL OF THE VAMPIRE’S INTERNAL ORGANS IMPALED INSIDE!

W.W.: IMPOSSIBLE!

The vampire staggers back and his organless corpse falls into some gears and cogs and is grounded into paste.

-----

Deimos trudges through the Coliseum, firing his Uzis mindlessly at the gigantic toads that surround him. The monster amphibians explode, showering Deimos is blood and bile. Zombies trapped in the Coliseum’s cages reach out for Deimos’ flesh but can’t quite make it. As Deimos rounds the corner, little midgets with ultra-steroids injected into their legs to give them SUPER JUMPING ABILITIES LEAP INTO DEIMOS!

“GUH!” DEIMOS GRUNTS as the GREEN-CLAD MIDGETS SLAM INTO DEIMOS LIKE CANNONBALLS. DEIMOS slides back on his HEELS WHILE PULLING OUT AN SHOTGUN. He begins FIRING WILDLY but can’t seem to NAIL THE TINY TARGETS.

J.R.: I guess I’m glad to see Caligula is an equal-opportunity employer.

“If you get killed by these pricks, you’ll be the laughingstock of Hell,” the ever present Phobos whispers in Deimos’ ear. With a MIDGET FLYING TOWARDS HIM, Deimos OPENS UP a PORTAL and the MIDGET VANISHES INSIDE. Another MIDGET COMES FORWARD and the PORTAL RE-OPENS, REDIRECTING THE FIRST MIDGET INTO THE SECOND ONE. The TWO SLAM INTO EACH OTHER AND EXPLODE LIKE RIPE MELONS. With only two left, Deimos pops their diminutive heads with two well-placed pistol shots.

Deimos tosses away the empty gun and reaches for the map in his pocket. He unravels the parchment and begins studying his path.

“We’re way off course, but if we move up one floor, I should be able to get the belt,” Deimos says to Phobos, “Then I’ll simply open a portal to Caligula’s box and demand that he gives me what I want.”

“The Black Judge?” Phobos says, rubbing two spider-like legs together.

“Yes, I’m going to rip off that motherfucker’s head,” Deimos replies.

“Geh heh heh. Well, I don’t think you’re going to have to wait that long,” Phobos cackles as he points a long leg towards a brick wall. SUDDENLY, THAT BRICK WALL EXPLODES OPEN, SHOWERING THE ROOM WITH DUST AND STONE. THROUGH THE DUST A SILHOUETTE CAN BE SEEN.

J.R: WHAT’S GOING ON? ANOTHER ONE OF CALIGULA’S TRAPS?

The DUST SETTLES and standing there is NONE OTHER THAN THE BLACK JUDGE, clad in his CLOAK and wielding a GIGANTIC FUCKING GAVEL.

“Y-You …” Deimos clenches his teeth as he raises his stub of an arm towards the intruder. “I’ll fucking murder you for what you did to me!”

The Black Judge points his GAVEL towards Deimos from across the Coliseum hallway.

“I don’t have business with you here,” the Black Judge replies.

“GO TO HELL, BLACK JUDGE,” DEIMOS SAYS, WHIPPING HIS STUB ARM FORWARD. SUDDENLY, IT TRANSFORMS INTO A GIANT BLADE THAT DARTS TOWARDS THE BLACK CLOAKED MAN. THE BLACK JUDGE RAISES HIS GAVEL AND STOPS THE BLADE FROM PENETRATING HIS CHEST, BUT THE FORCE KNOCKS HIM THROUGH ANOTHER WALL.

J.R.: It seems these two have a history! But who is this man?

W.W.: I know him, Jim. That’s the Black Judge. He’s wanted through out all of New America by numerous gang factions. The head of countries he’s murdered are too many too count.

J.R.: But what’s he’s doing here?!

W.W.: If I had to guess, he’s looking for a big, fat kill. Somebody somewhere in Castlevania is his target. How many enemies have you made, Jim?

DEIMOS leaps through the new hole he just made and enters a dark room full of numerous pillars. He carefully aims his magnum past the pillars and through the darkness, looking for the Black Judge. He sees something move and he opens fire, hitting nothing but brick and mortar.

“COME OUT, YOU FUCKING COWARD!” DEIMOS SCREAMS as he walks backwards into a PILLAR. SUDDENLY, THE PILLAR EXPLODES AS THE GIANT GAVEL OF THE BLACK JUDGE EASILY TEARS THROUGH IT. Barely ducking the attack, Deimos rolls backwards to avoid a SECOND BLOW from the GAVEL that slams into the dirt at his feet. DEIMOS FIRES his MAGNUM REPEATEDLY but it only MANAGES to GRAZE THE BLACK JUDGE’S CHEEK BEFORE ITS EMPTY.

“AUURGH!” DEIMOS UTTERS as he is UPPERCUTTED off the GROUND WITH THE GAVEL, SENDING HIM CRASHING INTO THE CEILING. As he FALLS DOWN, THE BLACK JUDGE SWINGS THE GAVEL INTO HIM LIKE A BASEBALL BAT, KNOCKING HIM THROUGH ANOTHER PILLAR.

W.W.: Jesus Shit! I think the Black Judge got him!

J.R.: Deimos is one of our top athletes in the Bloodsport but I’m not sure if he’s ready for the likes of the Black Judge!

The smoke clears and Deimos can be seen on the ground, his arm transformed into a METAL SHIELD with a round indentation bashed into it from where he was struck in mid-air with the gavel. AS THE BLACK JUDGE RUSHES UP to FINISH HIM OFF, Deimos OPENS A PORTAL in the GROUND AND DROPS INTO IT. Before the BLACK JUDGE can react, DEIMOS drops from above and NAILS THE SPIKE DDT.

J.R.: Spike DDT! They may have been the 5th wrestling move we’ve seen tonight!

The Black Judge somersaults backwards and brings his gavel to his side. At the same time, Deimos groans in pain and his stump arm slowly transforms into a BROADSWORD. The TWO begin CLASHING at RETARDEDLY HIGH-SPEEDS despite the IMMENSE WEIGHTS OF THEIR WEAPONS.

“I’LL FUCKING DESTROY YOU!” DEIMOS SCREAMS, SLAMMING THE BROADSWORD INTO THE JUDGE’S GUARD. Deimos PUSHES THE GAVEL AGAINST THE JUDGE’S CHEST, trying to sink his BROADSWORD into HIS FLESH. DEIMOS DRIVES IT HARDER AND HARDER, FORCING THE EDGE OF THE BLADE TO SLOWLY CUT INTO THE BLACK JUDGE’S PECTORALS. As the BLACK JUDGE tries to break free, DEIMOS takes his GOOD ARM and SHOVES IT THROUGH A PORTAL. THE PORTAL OPENS UP FROM *BEHIND* THE BLACK JUDGE AND DEIMOS GRABS THE TIP OF HIS OWN BLADE AND PULLS IT AGAINST THE JUDGE.

J.R.: DEIMOS IS TEARING APART HIS OWN HAND TO TRY AND KILL THE BLACK JUDGE.

“I have more important matters to deal with than fighting a INSIGNIFICANT, ONE-ARMED CUNT LIKE YOU!” BLACK JUDGE SCREAMS, PUSHING THE GAVEL FORWARD AND BREAKING THE ATTACK. Once the BROADSWORD REBOUNDS BACK, the FINGERS on DEIMOS’ PORTAL ARM are TORN APART by HIS OWN SWORD. With DEIMOS STAGGERING BACKWARDS, the BLACK JUDGE lowers his GAVEL to his SIDE and prepares to SWING.

“D-Damnit …” Deimos manages to utter as the GAVEL SWINGS TOWARDS HIM. THE HUGE HAMMER DRIVES ITSELF INTO DEIMOS’ GOOD ARM, EXPLODING ALL THE BONES WITHIN IT AND ACTUALLY IMPACTING IT INTO THE SIDE OF HIS RIBS.

“GAAAAAH!” DEIMOS HOWLS as BLOOD EXPLODES from his USELESS MEAT SACK OF AN ARM.

“Now I’ve taken both arms,” the Black Judge slams the handle of his gavel into the dirt. “You’ve lost.”

“Y-You fucking shitbag son of a BITCH!” DEIMOS THROWS his STUB ARM FORWARD, TRANSFORMING IT INTO A TREE OF BLADES! THE DOZENS UPON DOZENS OF BLADES RUSH FORWARD, AIMING TO TURN THE BLACK JUDGE INTO BLOOD-DRENCHED SWISS CHEESE. But the BLACK JUDGE is motionless in the face of this OVERWHELMING DANGER!

W.W.: HE’S GOT HIM!

The Black Judge merely swings his gavel, exploding the tree of blades into shrapnel. The shower of metal ricochets off the coliseum walls, lighting the area brilliantly with its sparks. With both of his arms incapacitated, the Black Judge unceremoniously swings his gavel one more time, TEARING DEIMOS FUCKING LEGS OFF!!

J.R.: BAH GAAAAWD! HE’S DESTROYED EVERY LAST LIMB DEIMOS HAD! DEIMOS IS AS USELESS AS ROBERT MCCOY!

W.W.: I can only pray for a quick yet spectacular death for Deimos. Caligula has no need of quadriplegics in his Bloodsport, except for comical cannon fodder.

Deimos lies on the ground, his stumps bleeding, as the Black Judge slings the gavel onto his shoulder. Deimos tries to inch his shattered arm towards a pistol on the ground, but it’s completely useless. Deimos is completely incapacitated.

“K-Kill … me …” Deimos chokes out. “Kill … me …”

Showing compassion, the Black Judge steps forward, raising his retarded gavel above his head. As the Black Judge prepares to finish off Deimos, Deimos lips curl up into a smile.

BOOOOOM! THE GAVEL HITS NOTHING BUT THE DIRT FLOOR! DEIMOS USED WHAT LITTLE MOBILITY HE HAD IN HIS ARM TO OPEN UP A PORTAL, A PORTAL HE USED TO ESCAPE!

W.W.: WAIT, THAT PUSSY COWARD IS JUST LEAVING?

The Black Judge carefully surveys the area, not knowing where exactly Deimos could appear next. Suddenly, the Judge hears the sound of SPACE-TIME RIPPING open and he IMMEDIATELY SPINS AROUND, HIS GAVEL ABOVE HIS HEAD. The GAVEL STOPS IN MID-SWING when he sees something he didn’t expect! Dozens of grenades, sticks of dynamite, and bricks of C4 all in a pile with DEIMOS LYING ON TOP OF THE FUCKING THING, a DETONATOR IN HIS HAND and a SHIT-EATING GRIN ON HIS FACE.

J.R.: That must be DEIMOS’ ENTIRE ARMORY! He brought the whole thing with him!

“Hahh … hahh … I may not be able to kill you one on one …” Deimos grins, “but it doesn’t matter … as this WHOLE CASTLE IS GOING UP IN SMOOOOOOKE!!”

W.W.: NO, WE’RE IN THE CASTLE, TOO!

THE BLACK JUDGE LEAPS BACKWARDS, SHIELDING HIMSELF WITH HIS GAVEL, as a BLINDING LIGHT EMANATES FROM DEIMOS. THE COLISEUM IS RIPPED APART BY THE RAGING INFERNO CAUSED BY THE EXPLOSIVES. Everyone in Castlevania can feel the tremors caused by the MAMMOTH BOMB. The feed turns to static.

J.R.: I can’t believe it! DEIMOS and the BLACK JUDGE are both surely dead!

W.W.: Caligula isn’t going to be happy about what Deimos did to his castle.

J.R.: Although it seems we’re still alive, I’m not sure I can say the same for the rest of the castle until we can get that feed back up.

-----

The feed resumes in the pitch-black recesses of the Abandoned Mine, the only light source is Harry Underwood’s flare. The giant, tortured soul BEEZLEBUB LIGHTNING is THRASHING ON HIS HOOKS in AGONY.

“WHO’S A MAN AND A HALF?! I’M A MAN AND A HALF!” HARRY UNDERWOOD SAYS AS HE BURSTS OUT OF BEEZLEBUB’S STOMACH!

W.W.: MOTHERFUCK, THAT FIGHT IS STILL GOING ON?!

And from the looks of Beezlebub, Harry has been toying around the whole time!

UNDERWOOD PLUNGES back into the PUTRID FLESH of BEEZLEBUB, SWIMS THROUGH HIS ORGANS, and POPS OUT between his SHOULDERBLADES. INITIATING AN INTENSE BEAR HUG ON BEEZLEBUB’S SPINE, THE BEARMAN UNDERWOOD YANKS it back UNTIL HE RIPS a PORTION of it FROM BEEZLEBUB’S BODY.

“I’VE GOTTA HANDFUL OF VERTEBRAE AND A HEADFUL OF MAD!” UNDERWOOD SCREAMS TO NO ONE. “THAT’S YOUR SPINAL CORD, BABY! DIG IT!”

J.R.: UNDERWOOD HAS GONE COMPLETELY INSANE!

BEEZLEBUB SCREAMS A GHOULISH MOAN AS UNDERWOOD TOSSES THE HUNK OF BONE AWAY. Underwood DIGS his CLAWS into THE BODY and SQUIRMS BACK INSIDE. Underwood then DROPKICKS HIS WAY OUT OF THE STERNUM, CARRYING BEEZLEBUB LIGHTNING’S ROTTING INTESTINES under his ARM. Climbing his way up his chest as THE MONSTER THRASHES ABOUT, UNDERWOOD BOOTS AN ENTRYWAY INTO BEEZLEBUB’S YELLOWING TEETH AND HOPS INTO HIS MOUTH!

J.R.: He’s GOING INTO BEEZLEBUB’S MOUTH WILLINGLY?!

The INTESTINAL TRACK leading from BEEZLEBUB’S STOMACH continues to be PULLED INTO the MOUTH as THE MONSTER STRUGGLES AGAINST HIS CHAINS. The ROOM BEGINS TO BE TREMBLE as Beezlebub’s CHAINS are BOLTED to the CEILING. With rubble falling from the ceiling, HARRY UNDERWOOD SUDDENLY PARACHUTES OUT OF BEEZLEBUB’S ASS, COVERED IN SHIT AND BLOOD, STILL CLUTCHING THE INTESTINES!

J.R.: HARRY UNDERWOOD MADE THAT THING EAT ITS OWN INTESTINES … SOMEHOW! FUCK!

W.W.: THIS MAN IS KING GOD MURDER CHAMPION!

“GROOOOOOOOH!” the HIDEOUS MONSTER TEARS HIS CHAINS FROM THE WALL, CAUSING THE CEILING TO COLLAPSE. UNDERWOOD is TOO BUSY PUNCHING the SHIT OUT OF BEEZLEBUB’S INTESTINES to NOTICE the INHUMAN BEAST is DESCENDING UPON HIM, ALONG WITH THE REST OF THE ROOM. With the MINE COLLAPSING, the feed turns to static.

J.R.: Wait, is UNDERWOOD DEAD?

W.W.: OH GOD, NO!

J.R.: IF HE’S DEAD, then that means …

-----

In the Castle Keep of Castlevania, a pale light from a humongous crescent moon peers through the windows as the ILLUSIONIST steps out from the shadows. Taking off his hat, the ILLUSIONIST rifles through it before finally retrieving the map.

“Almost there!” the ILLUSIONIST tries to contain his joy. “Just up those stairs and past that throne room and I’ll have the Holy Lightning Empire Championship! Ha ha, this was actually a lot easier than I thought.”

THEN A GIANT BOOT DROPS ON THE ILLUSIONIST’S FUCKING HEAD, PINNING HIM DOWN TO THE STONE FLOOR.

“Was it now?” LUNAR FUCKING PLEXUS SMILES, HIS LONG LOCKS BLOWING IN THE WIND AS THE MOONLIGHT SHINES ON HIS CHISELED PHYSIQUE.

J.R.: IT’S LUNAR PLEXUS! OUR SUPERSTARS HAVE FINALLY MET INSIDE CASTLEVANIA!

The ILLUSIONIST squirms under PLEXUS’ HUGE BOOT as Plexus TURNS to the HUGE STONE STAIRCASE just outside, leading towards the Holy Lightning Empire Championship. Plexus turns back to the ILLUSIONIST and suddenly has a realization.

“Wait a minute, you’re that little faggot that cost me my victory at Abhorrent Anathema, aren’t you?” Plexus leans down to get a better look as tears well up in Vic’s eyes. “Oh, I’m going to have to enjoy this.”

BUT SUDDENLY, THE FLOOR BESIDE LUNAR PLEXUS AND THE ILLUSIONIST BEGINS TO QUAKE. AS THE CASTLE KEEP TREMBLES, THE FLOOR SINKS IN AND BEEZLEBUB’S FUCKING HEAD RISES UP FROM THE HOLE.

“GRAAAAAAAARGHHH!!” IT SHOUTS, SPEWING FLIES FROM ITS GULLET.

W.W.: WHAT THE FUCK?!

J.R.: H-HE MUST HAVE ESCAPED! But how it got from the Abandoned Mine to Castle Keep so quickly I’ll never know!

AS PLEXUS AND THE ILLUSIONIST STARE AT THE SICKLY BEEZLEBUB’S HEAD RISE UP FROM THE HOLE, THE TOP OF ITS SKULL FUCKING EXPLODES! SUPER AGENT HARRY UNDERFUCKINGWOOD FLIES OUT AND POWERBOMBS BEEZLEBUB’S BRAINS! THE TENDER FLESH SPRAYS EVERYWHERE AS UNDERWOOD SCREAMS AT HIS OWN AWESOMENESS.

J.R.: UNDERWOOD! UNDERWOOD! THE THREE SURVIVORS ARE HERE! THEY’RE HERE!

W.W.: YEAAAAAH, LET’S GET THIS GOING! GONNA BEAT MY MEAT!

“The two little cunts that humiliated, both standing right in front of me,” PLEXUS SMILES, taking his foot off the ILLUSIONIST’S HEAD. The ILLUSIONIST scampers away to a corner as UNDERWOOD reverts back to his HUMAN FORM.

“How did I get myself into this!” the ILLUSIONIST whimpers, more urine running down the leg of his pants.

“DIG THE PROWESS, THE CAPACITY FOR VIOLENCE,” UNDERWOOD SEETHES while covered in almost every bodily fluid imaginable.

“What are we waiting for? Let’s fucking murder each other,” Lunar Plexus smiles.

J.R.: THEY’RE ALMOST AT THE BELT AND THE ONLY THING STOPPING THEM IS EACH OTHER!
Vinny
[00:10] How can you get an erect dick into your own ass?
Joined: 16 Jan 2007
Posts: 5181
(Fri May 11, 2007 6:36 pm)
Reply

Post     Re: CALIGULA LIGHTNING's ELEGY OF EXTINCTION (#23)

“ZEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEED!!” some guy runs up right in front of the camera before a pitchfork bursts from his throat.

The demonic Army of Zeed slams against the second protective wall leading to Caligula Lightning’s home, Castlevania. The third protective already lies at rubble at the might of Zeed, and surely the second wall is not far off from collapsing itself. Elephants with tusks growing out of their trunks, making them giant maces, ram the walls repeatedly as the Holy Lightning Empire’s men futilely launch volley after volley of arrows.

Soldiers riding BLOOPERS, airborne colossal squids, fly over top the second wall and RAPPEL down SLAUGHTER the archers. MURDERKONGS, just really, really big gorillas, hurl explosive-filled barrels at the stone walls.

“Oh God, Zeed is unstoppable! We’re all going to die!” one soldier says as he attempts to flee. Immediately a burly HOLY LIGHTNING GLADIATOR chops him in half with an axe. Soldiers immediately take his body parts and throw them down at the invading army for no reason.

“COWARDICE is not allowed in the military of the Holy Lightning Empire!” a Holy Lightning Empire captain screams. He takes a telescope out and surveys the vast forces of Zeed. In the middle, surrounded by golden armored guards, is the KING GOD EMPEROR himself! Zeed seems completely unimpressed by the writhing sea of death that his throne is slowly wading through. His legs crossed, his arm propped up, he doesn’t seem to have a care in the world.

“What an arrogant fool,” the Captain says as he puts away his telescope. “Prepare one more volley. If we kill their LEADER, their forces will fall apart! We can snatch a victory from this battle, men!”

Lining the walls of Castlevania, the remaining soldiers take aim at Zeed. The Captain raises his arm and thrusts it forward. The black wave of arrows soar through the sky and head directly towards Zeed. Zeed looks up at the INCOMING BLACK CLOUD of DEATH and smiles.

GALLONS OF BLOOD SPRAYS INTO THE AIR as ZEED’S MEN ARE MUTILATED BY THE THOUSANDS AND THOUSANDS OF ARROW RAINING DOWN ON THE BATTLEFIELD. DESPITE THIS, ZEED IS COMPLETELY UNHARMED. IN FACT, HE HASN’T MOVED AN INCH!

“I-Impossible … completely impossible!” the Captain falls to knees. “Every single one missed … that is … unexplainable!”

Zeed takes his absurdly long arm and reaches down, plucking an arrow from the corpse of one of his men. Taking it in hand, his arm whips forward and he hurls the arrow like a dart. Seconds later, the Captain’s head explodes in a pink mass as the arrow has taken everything above his jaw off.

“We have destroyed their spirits,” Zeed utters in his impossibly low voice, “Unleash our nightmare upon them. They can no longer resist.”

And with that, the second wall falls.

-----

J.R.: The three survivors here! Deimos detonated a small army’s worth of explosives just to kill the Black Judge but took himself out in the process! Now our final three combatants are a mere thirty feet away from the title and will slug it out to become the FIRST EVER Holy Lightning Empire champion! Who will win?! The Illusionist, Lunar Plexus, or Super Agent Underwood?!

W.W.: FUCK, I can’t CHOOSE! Lunar Plexus is an impossible GOD MAN but Super Agent Underwood was in service of the United States government AND is half-bear, apparently. CUNTFUCK.

The three men face off in a triangle. The ten-foot-plus Lunar Plexus stands proudly, his chest bulging out and his fists on his waist. Harry Underwood is kneeling over, soaked from head-to-toe in the blood of his enemies. The Illusionist is in the corner, sitting in a pool of his own urine.

“You know, guys, I really don’t want that belt anymore,” the ILLUSIONIST says. I think I’m gonna leav-“

“RIP AND TEAAAAR!” UNDERWOOD FOAMS.

“Bring it on you puny shit,” Lunar Plexus smugly replies. UNDERWOOD dashes forward, DRAGGING HIS CLAWS ALONG the GROUND while Lunar Plexus makes no attempt to defend himself.

J.R.: IT’S STAAARTING!

Harry Underwood’s CLAWS only INFLICT what looks like RUG BURNS on PLEXUS’ IMPECCABLE ABS. Crouching down, Underwood builds up ENERGY in his legs to make the HUGE LEAP to REACH PLEXUS’ THROAT. Underwood SPRINGS UPWARD and PLEXUS CHUCKLES and SWINGS HIS HEAD DOWN. CRACK! UNDERWOOD IS HEADBUTTED STRAIGHT INTO THE STONE FLOOR.

J.R.: A VICIOUS HEADBUTT! Plexus seems not at all concerned with Underwood!

Harry Underwood FLIPS UPWARDS and attempts to FLASH KICK PLEXUS but Plexus snatches him by his foot. “Predictable!” Plexus laughs before DRIVING HIS FIST into the BACK OF UNDERWOOD’S HEAD. Blood spews from the wound as Underwood dangles helplessly by Plexus’ hand.

“Rip and tear … tear and rip …” UNDERWOOD moans as blood drips from his mouth.

“Still uttering the same nonsense,” Plexus frowns. “Die! Forever!”

PLEXUS SPINS UNDERWOOD in the HAND with ONE ARM while PULLING BACK THE OTHER. The HUGE BICEPS of PLEXUS BULGE AS HE BUILDS UP POWER IN HIS RIGHT FIST. Once UNDERWOOD realizes what’s going on, A FIST IS BURIED INTO HIS STOMACH UP TO THE FUCKING FOREARM. UNDERWOOD VOMITS UP ALL THE MONSTER FLESH HE DEVOURED ON THE WAY HERE ALONG WITH HIS BLOOD BEFORE ROCKETING THROUGH THE CASTLE KEEP WALL AND PLUMMETING OUT OF SIGHT.

J.R.: PLEXUS JUST KNOCKED UNDERWOOD OUT OF CASTLEVANIA! He could be dead!

“Geh heh, and now to deal with you …” Plexus cracks his knuckles and turns to the ILLUSIONIST to discover that he isn’t there! Quickly, his HEAD JERKS up to the SET OF STAIRS leading the THRONE ROOM to see the ILLUSIONIST quickly SCURRYING UP THEM.

J.R.: THE ILLUSIONIST IS HEADING FOR THE BELT! He’s avoiding the fight altogether!

W.W.: THAT’S NOT FAIR! GET BACK HERE AND DIE, QUEER!

With rain pelting his suit and cloak, the ILLUSIONIST finally reaches the summit of staircase and is greeted with a GIANT STEEL DOOR protecting the entrance to the tower. The ILLUSIONIST spins around to see Lunar Plexus’ stomping his way up slowly, a sinister smile on his face.

J.R.: The ILLUSIONIST is in a whole lot of trouble! He better dig a white flag out of that top hat of his.

“Oh no oh no oh nooo!” the ILLUSIONIST hops up and down at his dilemma. “The door is locked and I don’t have a key!”

Then get the key, Vic.

“Dilettante?” the ILLUSIONIST raises his head. Reaching into his coat, he pulls out the DILETTANTE’S FUCKING SKULL and gazes upon it.

You’ve gotten out of tighter jams than this. If you want the key, then just get it

“Get it?” the ILLUSIONIST turns his head to see LUNAR PLEXUS still climbing up, each step shaking the staircase. “You’re right!” The ILLUSIONIST reaches into the hat and PULLS OUT A LARGE, BLUE KEY.

W.W.: Where the fuck did he get that?

The ILLUSIONIST shoves the KEY into the KEYHOLE, turns it, and … NOTHING. It isn’t the right key!

“EYAAAAGH!” the ILLUSIONIST SHOUTS. “It didn’t work!”

You aren’t trying hard enough, Vic! And if you don’t hurry up, that huge motherfucker is going scrape you from the bottom of his boot!

“Damnit, you’re right,” the ILLUSIONIST shouts as he takes off his hat. “I gotta slow him down!” The ILLUSIONIST whips open his COAT and a FLOCK OF DOVES RUSHES OUT and HEADS STRAIGHT FOR PLEXUS.

“Are you serious?” Plexus laughs as he the STORM of DOVES HITS HIM. He swats them away, instantly exploding them into guts and bird shit, while his ascent continues unaffected.

“Come on come on come on!” the ILLUSIONIST yanks out a RED KEY. Placing it into the KEYHOLE, he twists it, and … NOTHING! THE ILLUSIONIST SCREAMS IN TERROR.

Snap out of it! HE’S STILL COMING!

TREMORS RUN UP THE STAIRCASE WITH EACH LEISURELY STEP BY LUNAR PLEXUS. The ILLUSIONIST hits the FLOOR and sets his hat at the base. SUDDENLY, A RIVER BURSTS FORTH and RUSHES DOWN THE STAIRCASE TOWARDS PLEXUS.

“Pathetic!” Plexus mutters as he wades through the water rushes down the stairs, a few fish slapping against his mighty frame. Suddenly, PLEXUS SPOTS a SHARK FIN RACING DOWN THE RIVER. As the SHARK BURSTS OUT OF THE WATER, PLEXUS EFFORTLESSLY KARATE CHOPS IT IN TWO, CAUSING ITS EYES TO ROCKET OUT OF ITS HEAD.

J.R.: The ILLUSIONIST is throwing a lot at Lunar Plexus, but it seems all for naught! Plexus is unstoppable, and I think he’s going to win the title tonight!

“Eeeeek!” the ILLUSIONIST cowers, slapping the top of his TOP HAT furiously in hopes something will come to his aid. Just in time, A FEROCIOUS WHITE TIGER LEAPS OUT OF THE HAT TO GET ITS FACE FUCKING SMASHED IN BY PLEXUS. PLEXUS GRINS AND SLOWLY PUSHES THE TIGER BACK INTO THE TOP HAT WITH HIS FIST. Once the tiger is gone, Plexus takes the top hat and places it on the ILLUSIONIST’s head. Blood pours from the hat and runs down the ILLUSIONIST’s bewildered face.

“Out of my way you sniveling faggot,” Plexus says, grabbing the ILLUSIONIST by his bowtie. Plexus holds the ILLUSIONIST out over the bridge and above a 300 foot drop. Below him is the ocean of death known as the Army of Zeed pushing through the final wall and into interior of Castlevania.

J.R.: Once he drops the ILLUSIONIST, there is nothing stopping Plexus from taking the gold, and the ILLUSIONIST wasn’t really stopping him anyway!

Plexus tosses the ILLUSIONIST slightly and then FLICKS him with his finger to smash his nose just to be a dick. The ILLUSIONIST drops out of sight and LUNAR PLEXUS REARS BACK HIS FIST TO BLOW DOWN THE DOOR.

“The title is mine!” Lunar Plexus says as he ARM BULGES.

SUDDENLY, THE ILLUSIONIST SOARS UP INTO VIEW, A COMPLETELY TERRIFIED EXPRESSION ON HIS FACE. HE IS SITTING ON TOP OF A MONSTROUS BEAR-LIKE CREATURE WITH BLONDE FUR. THE ILLUSIONIST ACCIDENTALLY DROPPED ONTO HARRY UNDERWOOD IN FULL BEAR FORM AS HE WAS LEAPING UP!

J.R.: BAH GAWD, IS THAT UNDERWOOD?!

BOOOOM! LUNAR PLEXUS IS BLOWN THROUGH THE DOORS LEADING TO THE THRONE ROOM. PLEXUS SLIDES ON HIS GODDAMNED FACE, BLOOD SPURTING FROM HIS CHEEK, AS THE HULKING BEARMAN STANDS IN THE DOORWAY, HIS BREATH COMING OUT LIKE GOBS OF STEAM.

W.W.: We’ve seen that bear transformation before, but this is beyond anything imaginable! The motherfucker is almost fifteen feet tall! He’s beyond any bear or man, he looks some sort of blonde fucking gorilla bear thing FUCK THIS IS AWESOME.

PLEXUS pushes himself up as a steady stream of blood pours from his smashed nose onto the red carpet. Using his fist, he pushes himself up while displaying a COCKY ASSHOLE GRIN. The ivory-skinned champion stands erect, his fists at his sides, unfazed by the mammoth attack.

“You cannot escape your death!” LUNAR PLEXUS SAYS. The snarling BEARFORM UNDERWOOD LOWERS ITS HEAD, A WATERFALL OF SALIVA TRAILING FROM ITS MAW.

“S-S-S-S-Shit t-t-t-his isn’t g-g-g-goooood!” the ILLUSIONIST cowers as he unwittingly sits on the MOUNTAIN-LIKE SHOULDERS of UNDERWOOD.

IN A FLASH, UNDERWOOD HAS DASHED TWENTY FEET AND IS NOW GRAPPLING WITH PLEXUS. CLAWS AND FINGERS INTERLOCKED, THE TWO STAND IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROOM STRUGGLING TO GET LEVERAGE.

“HEH HEH, COME ON!” PLEXUS SHOUTS.

“BEAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRR!” UNDERWOOD SNARLS MINDLESSLY.

“Oh God oh God oh Gooood!” the ILLUSIONIST desperately clings to the fur on UNDERWOOD’S BACK.

BLOOD SQUIRTS FROM PLEXUS’ HANDS AS UNDERWOOD’S CLAWS DIG INTO HIS FLESH. HOWEVER, PLEXUS IS UNCONCERNED AS HE PUSHES BACK THE TITANTIC BEAR’S ARMS.

J.R.: DESPITE UNDERWOOD’S HEIGHT AND WEIGHT ADVANTAGE, THE INDOMITABLE LUNAR PLEXUS IS PUSHING HIM BACK!

SNAP! UNDERWOOD LOCKS HIS TEETH INTO PLEXUS’ SHOULDER, SENDING CRIMSON SPLASHING INTO THE AIR. PLEXUS GRITS HIS TEETH AND REPEATEDLY BASHES HIS HEAD SIDEWAYS INTO HARRY’S BULGING BEAR SKULL. UNDERWOOD RELEASES HIS BITE and PLEXUS KICKS UNDERWOOD’S FUCKING CHEST IN, SENDING THE WEREBEAR FLIPPING BACKWARDS AND CRASHING INTO A STONE WALL.

The ILLUSIONIST is thrown from Underwood and he PAINFULLY BOUNCES off the ground, comically spilling several decks of cards into the air upon impact. PLEXUS rotates his bloodied shoulder as UNDERWOOD pulls himself out of the hole in the wall his body created.

“Is that it? PATHETIC!” PLEXUS MUTTERS. AS THE LAST SYLLABLE ROLLS OFF LUNAR PLEXUS’ TONGUE, HARRY UNDERWOOD VANISHES FROM SIGHT. A TRAIL OF SPARKS SPRAY FROM THE FLOOR, IGNITING PAST PLEXUS AND WRAPPING AROUND HIM. PLEXUS’ SMUG GRIN TRANSFORMS INTO A TWISTED EXPRESSION OF AGONY AS UNDERWOOD’S BEAR CLAWS DIG INTO HIS LOWER BACK.

J.R.: W-WHAT SPEED! HOW CAN A CREATURE THAT LARGE MOVE SO QUICKLY?!

Plexus SWINGS an ELBOW towards UNDERWOOD but UNDERWOOD HAS ALREADY DISAPPEARED. A BLINDING BEAR UPPERCUT RIPPLES PLEXUS’ FLESH AND KNOCKS HIM AIRBORNE and a BEAR SPIKE ELBOW SENDS LUNAR’S SKULL REBOUNDING OFF THE STONE FLOOR.

“This fucking guy …” Lunar utters as he feels two paws wrap around his abdomen. SUDDENLY, he is LIFTED INTO THE AIR and FLUNG BACKWARDS AS HARRY UNDERWOOD GOES FOR THE GERMAN SUPLEX. PLEXUS’ SKULL SCRAPES VIOLENTLY AGAINST THE CEILING BEFORE HE PLUMMETS BACK DOWN TO EARTH. But PLEXUS STOPS the SUPLEX with his ARMS, PREVENTING HIM SKULL FROM CRACKING. Pulling back his KNEES, he DRIVES BOTH BOOTS into UNDERWOOD’S FACE.

As Lunar Plexus skids along on his shoulder blades, WEREBEAR UNDERWOOD is already rushing forward. Plexus hops onto his heels and RAISES HIS GUARD as Harry UNLEASHES a BLINDING SERIES OF CLAW STRIKES. RIVULETS OF BLOOD SHIMMER IN THE MOONLIGHT as UNDERWOOD TEARS OPEN SEAMS IN PLEXUS’ SKIN.

“GUUUUH!” Plexus arms WHIP BACK as he is OVERWHELMED by the SERIES OF BLOWS. Harry Underwood SEIZES the OPPORTUNITY and RUSHES IN, WRAPPING HIS BURLY BEAR ARMS AROUND PLEXUS’ FRAME. PINNING PLEXUS’ ARMS TO HIS TORSO, UNDERWOOD GRIPS HIS PAWS TOGETHER AND LOCKS THE BEARHUG!

J.R.: THE BEARHUG! THE BEARHUG! ALTHOUGH THIS ISN’T EVEN ONE OF UNDERWOOD’S SIGNATURE ATTACKS, I IMAGINE THE BEARHUG IS VERY DEVASTATING NOW THAT UNDERWOOD IS ACTUALLY A BEAR.

“BEAAAAAAARRRR!!” UNDERWOOD ROARS. LUNAR PLEXUS CAN FEEL HIS BONES CREAK AS HUNDREDS OF POUNDS OF PRESSURE IS COMPACTING HIS FRAME. PLEXUS’ BREATHS BECOME SHORT AND RAPID AS HE NO LONGER HAS THE ROOM TO EXPAND HIS LUNGS. HIS FACE SLOWLY TURNS TO BLUE (AGAIN) AS BLOOD SLOWLY DRIPS FROM HIS NOSTRILS AND EARS.

W.W.: UNDERWOOD HAS GOT HIM! SHIT FUCK SHIT!

VEINS STRAIN UNDER PLEXUS’ SKIN AS HE SQUIRMS WITHIN UNDERWOOD’S RETARDEDLY STRONG GRIP. SLOWLY, HIS MUSCLES BEGIN TO FALL LIMP AS HIS BRAIN IS DEPRIVED OF OXYGEN.

“Pa … pa …” Plexus weakly mutters as his eyes roll in the back of his head.

J.R.: PAPA?

“Pa … pa …” Lunar repeats as he drools. “PATHETIC!!” AND WITH THAT, LUNAR PLEXUS SNAPS FREE FROM THE FUCKING HOLD AND RIPS OFF BOTH OF HARRY UNDERWOOD’S ARMS!

J.R.: BAAAAAH GAAAAAWD!!

W.W.: HOLY SHITMOTHER!

BLOOD GUSHES FROM UNDERWOOD’S STUBS AS HIS ARMS BOUNCE OF THE FLOOR. Underwood’s BLOODTHIRSTINESS begins to wane as LUNAR PLEXUS PULLS BACK HIS FIST to FINISH OFF THE WEREBEAR. However, Plexus seems something DISTURBING behind UNDERWOOD. It’s the ILLUSIONIST running. But he isn’t RUNNING AWAY, he’s RUNNING to the HOLY LIGHTNING EMPIRE CHAMPIONSHIP!

J.R.: THE ILLUSIONIST! And the BELT! This HATE-FILLED BRUTALITY made me almost forget that he was in the match and that there was a title on the line!

“T-This might work! I m-might be champion!” the ILLUSIONIST says as he lifts the GLASS CASE off the HOLY LIGHTNING EMPIRE CHAMPIONSHIP, which is obviously a gilded heart shoved in the mouth of a skull bolted to strap made out of baby skin.

SUGOI! the Dilettante shouts inside the ILLUSIONIST’s mind. You’ll be cooler than Kenshiro and Goku combined if you become champ!

Once the ILLUSIONIST sets his GLOVED HANDS on the title, he turns to see LUNAR PLEXUS APPROACHING, his eyes GLOWING WHITE ORBS and his breath coming from his throat like SMOKE.

“EEEEEK! STAY BACK!” THE ILLUSIONIST RAISES A SLEEVE and FIRES OUT A STEADY STREAM OF COINS. The WAVE OF METAL CRASHES INTO PLEXUS’ CHEST, SHOWERING THE ROOM IN CURRENCY. But PLEXUS merely raises a HAND and PUSHES THROUGH IT. Soon the stream of money ends and the ILLUSIONIST is cowering once more.

Behind them both, HARRY UNDERWOOD has his BEAR ARM in his MOUTH. Slowly, he attaches the arm to his STUMP and STEAM RISES UP from the WOUND as it heals impossibly fast.

“Beaaar …” Underwood grunts as he attaches his other arm.

Plexus snatches the ILLUSIONIST by the throat and slams him against a window. As he slowly SNAPS the ILLUSIONIST’S NECK, he reaches down for the BELT that the ILLUSIONIST clutches in his fist.

“I will never … give you this belt!” the ILLUSIONIST says, his lips quivering.

J.R.: A surprising show of bravery from the ILLUSIONIST, but I hate to say that it really doesn’t matter!

The ILLUSIONIST feels his vertebrae begin to shift and UNDERWOOD SLAMS INTO LUNAR PLEXUS’ BACK, SENDING ALL THREE WRESTLERS THROUGH THE WALL AND OUT OF THE THRONE ROOM!

J.R.: WE’RE GOING OUTSIDE!

W.W.: NO NO NO! THE ILLUSIONIST HAS THE BELT, THIS ISN’T FUCKING FAIR!

J.R.: NO! They have to escape the entirety of Castlevania first! They’re still within its walls, after all!

W.W.: Oh thank Caligula.

The ILLUSIONIST begins FREE FALLING towards the SEA OF HUMANITY below, PEPPERED with little orange dots from the FLAME CORPSES they use as TORCHES. Unable to piss himself as his bladder is now completely empty, the ILLUSIONIST fires a STRING OF HANDKERCHIEFS from his sleeve that he uses to WRAP around a SPIRE on a TOWER.

J.R.: Wait a minute, is that’s what’s going on outside? What in God’s name is happening?

W.W.: Hahaha, SHIT. LOOKS LIKE THE CASTLE IS GETTING STORMED, JIM.

J.R.: I want to urge everyone to remain calm. I’m sure the guards will handle the situation before the event is over.

W.W.: Please. These fans’ lives are miserable. Like they’re going to fucking budge from their seats.

The rain-slick roof of the tower the ILLUSIONIST is on makes his footing unsure. Looking out over war being waged between Zeed’s forces and the Holy Lightning Empire, he lets out a deep sigh.

“Now what?” the Illusionist says.

The ILLUSIONIST turns his head to a HOLY LIGHTNING EMPIRE SOLDIER SCREAMING as he FLIES STRAIGHT TOWARDS HIM. The ILLUSIONIST drops flat on the roof as the soldier breaks his spine on the corner of a brick wall. Pulling up his hat, he sees WEREBEAR UNDERWOOD grabbing another HELPLESS GUARD by shoving his claws under his ribcage.

J.R.: I was wondering if Underwood even cared about the belt!

Freaking out, the ILLUSIONIST hurls a single PLAYING CARD at the SHRIEKING SOUL ROCKETING TOWARDS HIM. The card EXPLODES into a PUFF OF PURPLE SMOKE and from that SMOKE appears a GIANT JACK OF DIAMONDS. The CARD cuts the soldier CLEAN in half and the two PIECES drift far enough APART that they miss the ILLUSIONIST entirely.

“That must be one of Zeed’s minions!” screams some soon to be dead soldier. Underwood turns to see a LINE of TEN WARRIORS on the CASTLE WALL. As SMOKE begins to RISE from UNDERWOOD’S BODY, he INSTANTLY VANISHES. All ten soldier’s are DECAPITATED while they are STANDING and their fucking HEADS are HURLED like BASEBALLS at the ILLUSIONIST.

W.W.: USING HUMAN BODY PARTS TO MURDER A PERSON IS EXTREMELY AWESOME.

“Ah ah ah!” the ILLUSIONIST hops from ROOF to the other, LASSOING TOWERS with his HANDKERCHIEFS. Soaring through the air, TWO HEADS COLLIDE with his CHEST, CAUSING BLOOD to SPEW from his THROAT. Although almost unconscious from the blow, he manages to WRANGLE one more TOWER with his HANDKERCHIEFS and PULL HIMSELF to the wall.

ELSEWHERE, the INVINCIBLE LUNAR PLEXUS loads himself into a BATISTA and LOCKS it in PLACE with his FEET. Pressing the LEVER, he is FIRED and SENT HURLING STRAIGHT TOWARDS the ILLUSIONIST!

“COME ON!” LUNAR TAUNTS as HE FLIES THROUGH THE SKY. The ILLUSIONIST leaps off the TOWER just in TIME and PLEXUS CRASHES THROUGH THE MOTHERFUCKER. Surrounded by bricks, Lunar Plexus drifts slowly through the air as the ILLUSIONIST is carried by a FLOCK OF DOVES holding him up by his cape.

“THIS ISN’T OVER YET!” PLEXUS SHOUTS. WITH THAT, HE PUNCHES A BRICK STONE BRICK and LAUNCHES IT LIKE A BULLET TOWARDS the ILLUSIONIST. VIC POWERS tucks in his LEGS and the BRICK SAILS HARMLESSLY PAST HIM. But PLEXUS drives his FIST INTO TWO MORE BRICKS, FIRING THEM OFF and CLIPPING FOUR OF THE PIGEONS. The ILLUSIONIST begins to LOSE ALTITUDE!

W.W.: DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE!

STILL FLYING, PLEXUS PUNCHES TWO MORE STONE BRICKS, ONE OF WHICH TEARS STRAIGHT THROUGH HIS CAPE. As the ILLUSIONIST falls to the EARTH, LUNAR PLEXUS TOE KICKS ONE LAST BRICK. THE STONE SPINS THROUGH THE AIR and DRIVES ITSELF VIOLENTLY INTO THE ILLUSIONIST’S GUT. CRIMSON VOMIT RISES UP OUT OF HIS THROAT AND THE ILLUSIONIST DROPS THE TITLE!

J.R.: THE TITLE IS FALLING!

“IT’S MINE!” PLEXUS SHOUTS AS HE SPRINGBOARDS OFF A CASTLE WALL. PLEXUS HAND STRETCHES OUT FOR THE COVETED BELT. ONCE HIS FINGERS TOUCH THE STRAP, TWO TONS OF INSATIABLE BEAR FURY COLLIDE WITH HIS STERNUM. UNDERWOOD AND PLEXUS SOAR SKYWARD AS THE TITLE DRIFTS WITH THEM!

W.W.: UNDERWOOD! UNDERWOOD!

J.R.: HELLFIRE AND BRIMSTONE! THIS IS IT!

“BEAAAAAAAR!” UNDERWOOD SCREAMS AS HE SINKS HIS FUCKING FANGS INTO PLEXUS’ THROAT. BLOOD JETTISONS FROM THE MUSCULAR NECK OF PLEXUS AS HIS EYES ARE BEWILDERED WITH RAGE.

“YOUR PATHETIC EFFORTS ARE FUTILE AGAINST MY LUNAR POWER!!” PLEXUS PULLS THE JAWS FROM HIS THROAT and DRIVES HIS FIST INTO UNDERWOOD’S TONGUE. Underwood DELIVERS A SERIES OF BEARJITSU KICKS to PLEXUS ABDOMEN that SENDS HIM UPWARD EVEN FURTHER. BALLING HIS FISTS UP, PLEXUS SWINGS HIS ARM DOUBLE AXEHANDLE but it is BLOCK BY UNDERWOOD’S BURLY ARMS. WHILE PLEXUS IS STUNNED, HARRY UNDERWOOD COUNTERS WITH A CLAW UPPERCUT THAT TEARS PLEXUS’ FLESH FROM HIS GUT TO HIS FOREHEAD. Three TEARS in HIS FLESH open up and BLOOD SPEWS FROM THE WOUNDS MOMENTS LATER.

J.R.: PLEXUS IS BLEEDING PROFUSELY! UNDERWOOD MAY HAVE THIS ONE!

FINALLY, THE TWO BLOOD-SOAKED WARRIORS AND THE BELT REACH THEIR ASCENT. WITH THE GLEAMING CRESCENT MOON BEHIND THEM, PLEXUS’ EYES SNAP OPEN AND FOCUS ON UNDERWOOD BELOW HIM.

“I … AM … SUPREME!!” PLEXUS SHOUTS, LUNGING HIS FUCKING FIST STRAIGHT INTO HARRY UNDERWOOD’S SKULL. BUT SOMETHING’S WRONG, PLEXUS FELT NO IMPACT! THE AFTER-IMAGE OF UNDERWOOD FADES AND A SHADOW GROWS OVER PLEXUS. LOOKING UP, UNDERWOOD HAS ECLIPSED THE MOON AS HE DESCENDS UPON PLEXUS.

J.R.: WAIT A MINUTE, THAT IS … UNBEARABLE PAIN!

W.W.: OH FUCKING SHIT RAPE!

SUPER AGENT HARRY UNDERWOOD BURSTS TOWARDS LUNAR PLEXUS WITH ALL HIS WEIGHT. UNDERWOOD DROPS HIS LEGS DOWN TO FIND THEY LAND ON LUNAR PLEXUS’ SHOULDERS. UNABLE TO HIT PLEXUS WITH HIS ARMS, THE ATTACK’S POWER IS NEGATED. LUNAR PLEXUS REACHES UP AND WRAPS HIS ARMS AROUND UNDERWOOD’S NECK.

“THE MARK OF MY DIGNITY SHALL SCAR THY DNA!” PLEXUS FUCKING SCREAMS..

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

LUNAR PLEXUS LANDS FEET FIRST WHILE CARRYING UNDERWOOD ON HIS SHOULDERS ON ONE OF THE MANY, MANY TOWERS OF CASTLEVANIA. BEFORE THE TOWER EXPLODES UNDER THEIR IMMENSE WEIGHT, THE MOVE CAUSES UNDERWOOD TO BE VICIOUSLY STUNNERED, SNAPPING HIS NECK IN FUCKING TWO. A PLUME OF DUST COVERS THE TWO AND LUNAR PLEXUS FALLS FROM IT, CRASHING FROM ROOF TO ROOF UNTIL FINALLY STOPPING.

J.R.: UNDERWOOD IS GONE! THE ILLUSIONIST IS GONE! ONLY PLEXUS IS LEFT … BUT WHERE IS THE BELT?!

The pattering of rain awakens the broken and exhausted Plexus. Opening his eyes, HE SEES HIS GOAL, THE HOLY LIGHTNING EMPIRE CHAMPIONSHIP, hanging haphazardly from a roof.

W.W.: LUNAR PLEXUS, MY MAIN MAN, IS ONLY A FEW YARDS AWAY FROM BECOMING CHAMP!

J.R.: YOU WERE ROOTING FOR UNDERWOOD!

W.W.: IT’S TIME TO STOP FUCKING LIVING IN THE PAST, JIM! I’m getting ON BOARD WITH THIS FAIR-SKINNED PARAGON OF MASCULINITY!

Plexus pulls himself and steps toward the belt before collapsing once more. Once again, he begins to stand, staggers forth a few steps, and drops to a knee. Frustrated, he reaches out for the belt. As his fingers close in on the strap, the STRAP JERKS AWAY FROM HIM. Leaning further, he reaches out for the belt AGAIN only to watch it be SNATCHED away. The belt slowly vanishes, BIT BY BIT, behind a pile of rubble.

W.W.: JFKLFAS WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT?!

J.R.: THE BELT … IS MOVING! I really don’t know what to say!

PLEXUS’ RIGHT ARM BULGES WITH ANGER and HE BACKHANDS that PILE OF RUBBLE TO NOTHING. Behind the rubble is the BELT being DRAGGED BY A SINGLE WHITE RABBIT. Off in the distance he can see the FUCKING ILLUSIONIST, EMBEDDED IN THE SIDE OF A CASTLEVANIA TOWER, and a HANDKERCHIEF acting as a TIGHT ROPE between the TWO TOWERS.

J.R.: THE ILLUSIONIST! HOW CAN HE STILL BE IN THIS?!

“Just a little … more …” the ILLUSIONIST mutters. The RABBIT carefully steps on the handkerchief bridge, dragging the belt behind itself.

J.R.: THEY ARE ON THE OUTER LIMITS of CASTLEVANIA. IF THE ILLUSIONIST GETS THE BELT, HE COULD VERY WELL BECOME THE CHAMPION.

LUNAR PLEXUS FORCES HIMSELF UP and BOLTS TOWARDS the HANDKERCHIEF BRIDGE. WITH HIS FOOT DROPPING TOWARDS THE MULTI-COLORED TIGHTROPE, SOMETHING CATCHES HIM IN THE THROAT. Another line of handkerchiefs, ONCE INVISIBLE, fades into a VIEW. Once touched, DOZENS UPON DOZENS OF PLAYING CARDS RAIN DOWN ON PLEXUS.

“S-Shit!” PLEXUS LEAPS BACKWARD ONLY TO HIT ANOTHER INVISIBLE LINE OF HANDKERCHIEFS. MORE PLAYING CARDS APPEAR FROM NOWHERE, but this time PLEXUS cannot DODGE. His BODY is RIDDLED with the RAZOR-SHARP DECK. The ILLUSIONIST grins weakly.

J.R.: What in God’s name is this?! IT’S LIKE A WEB OF HANDKERCHIEFS!

“Lunar Plexus, you have PLUNGED deep into MY ILLUSION,” the ILLUSIONIST raises a finger, pointing towards the GOLIATH from the HOLE he was knocked into. Slowly, the rest of the handkerchiefs appear into view, revealing a TRAP in which there is no escape. The rabbit is now halfway across the tightrope.

PLEXUS pokes a finger into a handkerchief, causing a few CARDS to FLY HIS WAY. He smacks them away with his hand and turns back to the ILLUSIONIST.

“It’s interesting that this is the way you’ve decided to spend the last few moments of your life,” PLEXUS CACKLES. LUNAR BOUNDS FORWARD THROUGH THE AIR AND CRASHES THROUGH LINE AFTER LINE OF HANDKERCHIEFS.

J.R.: THIS IS INSANE! HE’S GOING STRAIGHT FOR THE ILLUSIONIST, DAMNED THE CONSEQUENCES!

“HAHAHAHA!” LUNAR LAUGHS WILDLY AS HE THROWS AN ARRAY OF TITANIC PUNCHES AT THE CARDS AROUND HIM. DESPITE HIS SPEED, MANY CARDS MAKE IT THROUGH, AND QUICKLY A MIST OF BLOOD SURROUNDS PLEXUS.

W.W.: HE’S DOING IT! HE DOESN’T EVEN GIVE A FUCK!

THE RABBIT IS ALMOST ACROSS THE ROPE NOW WITH A BLOOD-EJACULATING PLEXUS ROARING BEHIND HIM. WITH THE RABBIT A FEW FEET AWAY FROM THE ILLUSIONIST, THE CARD-RIDDLED LUNAR MAKES HIS DESCENT.

J.R.: THE ILLUSIONIST ALMOST HAS IT!

“HUGE GUTS, RIP AND TEAR …”

W.W.: IT FUCKING CAN’T BE!

ON TOP OF A SPIRE IS THE HUNCHED OVER HUMAN FORM OF HARRY UNDERWOOD. HIS NECK TWISTED, HIS BODY SOAKED IN SO MANY DIFFERENT KINDS OF BLOOD, HE IS PERCHED THERE MUTTERING VIOLENT GIBBERISH.

J.R.: NOW UNDERWOOD HAS RETURNED! THE ILLUSIONIST ALMOST HAS THE BELT AND PLEXUS IS RIGHT BEHIND THEM!

UNDERWOOD LEAPS OFF THE TOWER TOWARDS PLEXUS AND THE ILLUSIONIST JUST AS THE RABBIT LEAPS UP INTO THE ILLUSIONIST’S OPEN ARMS. PLEXUS’ FEET TOUCH GROUND AND HE REARS BACK HIS FIST. UNDERWOOD DIVES FORWARD, BLOOD TRAILING FROM HIS BODY AS HE MAKES ONE FINAL, DESPERATE ATTACK!

J.R.: BAAAAAAAAH GAAAAAAAAWD!

“GRK … GRK …” THE ILLUSIONIST MUTTERS, A WATERFALL OF BLOOD LEAKING FROM HIS GULLET.

“URK … URGAH …” UNDERWOOD KICKS FUTILEY, HIS THROAT COLLAPSING.

“GEH HEH HEH,” LUNAR PLEXUS LAUGHS, HIS RIGHT FIST FUCKING BURIED UP TO THE MOTHERFUCKING BICEP IN THE ILLUSIONIST’S CHEST, HIS OTHER HAND CLUTCHING THE ALREADY SHATTERED NECK OF HARRY UNDERWOOD.

“TOO EASY!” LUNAR PLEXUS SHOUTS AS HE PULLS HIS BLOOD DRENCHED HAND FROM THE ILLUSIONIST’S BODY. CLUTCHED IN HIS FIST, PLEXUS YANKS THE HOLY LIGHTNING EMPIRE CHAMPIONSHIP FROM THE GAPING HOLE IN THE ILLUSIONIST’S CHEST.

J.R.: I CAN’T BELIEVE IT. LUNAR PLEXUS HAS WON.

BOTH THE ILLUSIONIST AND UNDERWOOD’S BODIES GO SLACK AS LUNAR PLEXUS STANDS VICTORIOUS. The ILLUSIONIST, his top hat falling from his head and his MASCARA-INKED mustache smudged with his OWN BLOOD, closes his eyes.

“I couldn’t do it, Dilettante …” the Illusionist thinks, “he was just too strong …”

Did Kenshiro ever give up? Or Goku? You still have that move!

That move … ?”

AS LUNAR PLEXUS GUFFAWS UPROARIOUSLY, the ILLUSIONIST’S TOP HAT CONTINUES FALLING. AS IT PASSES BEHIND LUNAR PLEXUS, A WHITE GLOVED HAND POPS OUT. THEN AN ARM, AN THEN THE ILLUSIONIST’S FUCKING HEAD! THE ILLUSIONIST IS SMILING!

W.W.: NO! NO! NOOOOOO!

J.R.: DO YOU BELIEVE IN MAGIC, WARRIOR?!

“SHOW TIME!” THE ILLUSIONIST SHOUTS AS HE PULLS OUT A SCIMITAR. PLEXUS TURNS AROUND AND SEES THE BLADE HEADING STRAIGHT FOR HIM. LIFTING UP THE BELT, THE SWORD PIERCES THE HEART FASTENED ONTO THE BELT AND THROUGH PLEXUS’ HAND. THE ILLUSIONIST’S SWORD SLOWS TO A STOP RIGHT BEFORE IT TOUCHES PLEXUS’ EYE.

“ALL YOUR TRICKS AMOUNT TO NOTHING MORE THAN A PILE OF SHIT AGAINST ME!” PLEXUS SCREAMS. The ILLUSIONIST doesn’t falter, however. HE MERELY SMILES IN RESPONSE.

“The key to any illusion is MISDIRECTION, Mr. Plexus,” the ILLUSIONIST SMILES. LUNAR PLEXUS TURNS HIS HEAD TO SEE THE MOTHERFUCKING SHITFUCKING *MOON* CRASHING DOWN ON HIM.

W.W.: WHAATH WHAHT IAOHBNF”HNF!

J.R.: THE FUCKING MOON?!

YES, THE FUCKING MOON. LUNAR PLEXUS DROPS BOTH THE BELT AND HARRY UNDERWOOD AND ATTEMPTS TO STOP THE FALLING MOON. THE ILLUSIONIST SNATCHES THE BELT AND COLLAPSES ONTO A NEARBY ROOF.

“THIS … ISN’T … POSSIBLE …!” LUNAR FUCKING SCREAMS AS ALL HIS WOUNDS RE-OPEN AS THE MOON SLOWLY CRUSHES HIM. SOON HIS LEGS SNAP AND HE DROPS DOWN TO THE FLOOR.

J.R.: THIS MAKES NO FUCKING SENSE! IT’S LIKE … UP IS DOWN! AND LEFT IS RIGHT!

W.W.: BAH GAWD!

These is even beyond my expectations, says the Dilettante.

“The belt … it’s mine,” a few tears roll down the ILLUSIONIST’s cheeks.

J.R.: WELL, WARRIOR. IT’S PRETTY OBVIOUS WE, AND PROBABLY THE ENTIRE PLANET, IS GOING TO DIE.

W.W.: CALIGULA WASN’T KIDDING WHEN HE NAMED THIS PAY-PER-VIEW!

CASTLEVANIA BEGINS TO CRUMBLE UNDER THE IMMENSE POWER OF THE MOON. ENTIRE WINGS IMPLODE AND BOTH ARMIES SUFFER HUGE CASUALITIES FROM FALLING DEBRIS.

ILLUSIONIST, AS AMAZING AS THIS IS, WE’RE ALL GOING TO FUCKING DIE IF YOU DON’T DO SOMETHING! the DILETANTE’S FUCKING SKULL SCREAMS INSIDE THE ILLUSIONIST’S HEAD. THE ILLUSIONIST SNAPS FROM HIS TRANCE, AND LOOKS UP AT THE MOON. THEN HE PISSES HIS FUCKING PANTS.

“IT’S JUST A TRICK … IT’S FAKE!” THE ILLUSIONIST SQUEALS.

IT LOOKS PRETTY GODDAMNED REAL TO ME!! the DILETTANTE SHOUTS, DO SOMETHING!

THE ILLUSIONIST CHARGES FORWARD AND LEAPS UPWARDS, USING A FLOCK OF DOVES TO CARRY HIM HIGHER. WHEN HE REACHES THE MOON, HE SHOVES HIS SWORD INTO THE DIRT AND BEGINS BEATING IT WITH HIS FIST.

“GO BACK! ALLAH KHAZAM!” THE ILLUSIONIST SCREAMS IN ABSOLUTE TERROR.

HURRY HURRY HURRY! THE DILETANTE SHOUTS.

“HOCUS POCUS! JESUS, I DON’T KNOW! FUCK!!” THE ILLUSIONIST SHOUTS, SLAMMING A GLOVED PALM INTO THE MOON’S SURFACE.

POOOOOOOOF!! THE MOON VANISHES INTO A MAMMOTH PURPLE CLOUD OF SMOKE, DISAPPEARING ALMOST AS QUICKLY AS IT APPEARED. LOOKING UP IN THE SKY, THE MOON HAS RETURNED TO ITS RIGHTFUL PLACE, BUT THE ILLUSIONIST IS VANISHED.

W.W.: Are we STILL ALIVE?

J.R.: I THINK SO! THE MOON SEEMS TO BE NO LONGER CRASHING INTO THE EARTH.

W.W.: OH THANK CALIGULA!

J.R.: BUT THERE’S SOMETHING WRONG. THE ILLUSIONIST VANISHED ALONG WITH THE MOON! And if the ILLUSIONIST had the belt … THAT MEANS HE’S THE NEW CHAMPION!

W.W.: I WISH I WAS FUCKING DEAD.

LUNAR PLEXUS and HARRY UNDERWOOD lie on the COLLAPSING CASTLEVANIA. THE GIANT CHANDELIER IN THE BALLROOM FALLS FROM THE CEILING, CRASHING INTO THE RING.

J.R.: SINCE WE HAVE A NEW CHAMPION AND THE PAY-PER-VIEW IS OVER, I HOPE YOU FOLKS WILL EXCUSE ME IF I GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE.

W.W.: GAH, WHAT’S THE POINT.

-----

While CASTLEVANIA is SELF-DESTRUCTING, an OMINOUS BLACK ZEPPELIN APPEARS OVERHEAD.

“Do you think it’s time?” WILSON P. HICKENBOTTOM SAYS FROM INSIDE THE ZEPELLIN.

“Caligula’s reign is over,” Hoity von Toity grins and he twists his mustache, “It’s time to reunite these savages with their first love … WRESTLING.”
Vinny
[00:10] How can you get an erect dick into your own ass?
Joined: 16 Jan 2007
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(Fri May 11, 2007 6:37 pm)
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Post     Re: CALIGULA LIGHTNING's ELEGY OF EXTINCTION (#23)

The final wall comes crumbling down and the Army of Zeed rushes in, ready to slaughter every last person they see, turning the capital of the Holy Lightning Empire into a graveyard. The outmatched Holy Lightning forces rush out in futility, being eviscerated by the long, tusk-covered trunks of No Man’s Land elephants. The massive corpses of the BLOOPERS, impaled with hundreds upon hundreds of arrows, CRASH ONTO the battlefield AMIDST the CHAOS. TOWERING ABOVE THE FORCES, NOW ON FOOT FOR THE FIRST TIME THE ENTIRE BATTLE, IS ZEED.

“ZEEEEEEEEEEEDDDDDDAAAARGGGHH!!” a HOLY LIGHTNING GOON screams before he is EXPLODED by one of the impossibly fast movements from the KING GOD EMPEROR. ZEED, the FIFTEEN FOOT TALL HERCULES, steps through the crowd as if they were CHILDREN. Whenever a group of soldiers approaches, aiming to take down one of the THREE DIVINE FISTS, they are TORN APART by Zeed’s WHIP LIKE ARMS. Zeed laughs as he PLUNGES his FIST through SEVEN SOLDIERS’ CHESTS, yanking them out to reveal their HEARTS IMPALED ON HIS FINGER.

“That must be where he’s hiding,” Zeed mutters to himself, looking up a GIGANTIC TOWER off in the DISTANCE with a JET-BLACK SPIRE that seems to SCRAPE AGAINST THE SKY. Zeed kicks row after row of soldiers into the air and he makes his way towards Caligula.

-----

THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. EMPEROR CALIGULA LIGHTNING MARCHES THROUGH HIS CASTLE, EACH STEP SHAKING THE ALREADY WEAK FOUNDATION. He walks past a row of stained glass windows, each one displaying him obliterating and devouring a different ferocious animal. The room is illuminated briefly by flashes of lightning from outside, revealing the numerous sculptures of the porcine of Caligula.

Caligula reaches the wooden doors at the end of the hallway, but stops.

“Come now, assassin. There’s no point in hiding from me,” Caligula says. He turns as another bolt pours light into the room. Standing a few yards behind him is a man cloaked all in black, an oversized gavel on his back. The Black Judge. His cloak is tattered, revealing numerous burns on his arms and legs after escaping from the explosion that claimed Deimos’ life.

“So, this makes three men who are after my head today,” Caligula chuckles, his gut shaking violently with every chortle.

“I’m here to return order to this war-torn land, and I’ll start by splattering your pleasure-obsessed mind all over these walls,” the Black Judge utters coldly.

“Order?” Caligula smirks, “You really have no idea what is going on, do you?”

CALIGULA BEGINS TO STEP FORWARD, dragging a FAT FINGER ALONG one of the WALLS.

“This is the natural state of humanity. All this disgusting filth, their overwhelming hatred, their insatiable lust for violence, and that sickening stirring in their loins. THIS IS THE ESSENCE OF EXISTENCE,” CALIGULA SPREADS HIS ARMS OUT DRAMATICALLY. “Restore order, you said? Was that your plan? I BROUGHT ORDER TO THIS WORLD. If you don’t believe me, LOOK OUTSIDE.”

The Black Judge turns to one of the windows and looks out on the war raging below.

“THAT is a world without ORDER,” Caligula smirks, “That is what the world is destined to become. Do you think killing me will change a single goddamn thing? Hah!”

Shadows shroud Caligula, making him look extra dramatic.

“There are forces out there even beyond me, assassin,” Caligula smiles, exposing his nauseating yellow and red teeth. “I’m just the tip of the iceberg. A pawn, merely sent her to suppress that idea, that emotion, that singular concept that turns good men into monsters.”

The Black Judge lowers his head a bit.

“Geh heh, I suppose even you know what I’m talking about,” Caligula says.

“Wrestling,” the Black Judge replies, a tinge of fear running through his voice.

Caligula takes a few heavy steps forward, his gut bouncing with each subtle movement of his body. He examines his rough hands, calloused and worn despite his life of brutal luxury, in the moonlight. His saliva-drenched lips slowly open as he begins to speak.

“Ever since that incident three years ago, that drug known as wrestling was erased from the people’s minds. It all happened after that global broadcast. The idea of wrestling was on the tips of their tongues, but they could no longer speak it. That concept, the concept that would drive them exuberant death, that all-consuming yearning for violence … it was suddenly gone.”

Caligula Lightning takes another step forward.

“But something like that can’t just be erased. Wrestling was still in the minds and hearts of the people, it just couldn’t be expressed. The people were left frustrated, that burning rage still locked within them but with no way to express it. Of course, that was before I was sent here …”

”And that’s why you invented the Bloodsport,” the Black Judge replies.

“It was my only goal. This Bloodsport was to be an outlet for that rage, to keep people distracted so that there was no hope of the idea of wrestling to be resurrected ever again. Of course, despite the events of Death Race 2007 wiping out nearly all of Earth’s superstars, there were still a handful who knew of it … and they helped the rest rediscover their bloody history.

“I knew it was futile. I originally agreed to their plan to satiate my revenge. It went far beyond the brothers that exiled me, although I had a special place in my heart for them. No, I wanted all of humanity to suffer. But what I discovered when I amassed my empire is that a perfect suffering was already created for them in this terrible land of New America. An EXISTENCE of ENDLESS MISERY is the FATE OF EVERY SINGLE LAST ONE OF THESE POOR ANIMALS … YET THEY PERSIST IN LIVING. WHY?

“I was ROBBED of my chance of punishing these absurd creatures and I DID what all men without goals do: succumb to a life of extravagant decadence. As quickly as I arrived my wars had been fought and my enemies conquered, so I drifted into a numbing existence of death and debauchery. I began to STRUGGLE against the CHAINS that BOUND ME, against my DISTANT OVERSEERS.

“Letting the likes of the ILLUSIONIST and KENJIRO KANZAKI compete in my BLOODSPORT were the first steps, then I established combat within that damned RING. And now, ON MY ELEGY OF EXTINCTION, the FRUIT of my EFFORTS has been CRUELLY PLUCKED FROM ME. To resurrect that DIVINE IDEA has been STOMPED. You, assassin, and Zeed will not accomplish your goal. What you see before you is the WALKING DEAD, a contemptible corpse pathetically struggling against his FATE.”

The Black Judge yanks his GAVEL from his shoulder, SLAMMING IT INTO the MARBLE FLOOR.

“Then you wouldn’t mind if I did the honors?” the Black Judge utters.

“Aha, but STRUGGLING is what we humans are BEST AT, ASSASSIN!” CALIGULA SHOUTS AS HE BRINGS A MAMMOTH ARM THROUGH STAINED GLASS WINDOW AFTER STAINED GLASS WINDOW TOWARDS THE BLACK JUDGE.

The BLACK JUDGE BOUNDS into the AIR over Caligula’s TREE-SIZED ARM, SPRINGBOARDS OFF THE CEILING, and SWINGS HIS GAVEL TOWARDS CALIGULA’S SKULL. Caligula Lightning BLOCKS THE BLOW, scant amounts of blood SHOOTING from the IMPACT POINT, and RETALIATES with an OVERHAND CHOP as if the GAVEL did nothing!

The Black Judge slams into the MARBLE FLOOR, bounces slightly, and is HIT with a HOOK that sends him CAREENING through a STATUE of CALIGULA RIPPING an ELEPHANT’S DICK OFF. The Judge SWINGS his GAVEL into the STONE ELEPHANT DICK and LAUNCHES it LIKE a TORPEDO into CALIGULA’S CHEST. The blow sends CALIGULA SLIDING BACK, most essentially unharmed!

“STRONGER MEN than YOU have tried to CLAIM MY LIFE!” CALIGULA SHOUTS, STOMPING THE GROUND and CAUSING a FISSURE to OPEN UP. The Black Judge LEAPS OVER the FISSURE and SWINGS HIS GAVEL into CALIGULA’S IMMENSE GUT.

BWOOOM! The GAVEL sinks into the FAT, doing nothing. Caligula chuckles before smacking away the JUDGE, SANS GAVEL.

“HA HA HA HA!” Caligula’s STOMACH WOBBLES, the HANDLE of the GAVEL jutting out. Caligula CLENCHES his FIST and FLEXES, sending the GAVEL FLYING BACKWARDS AT THE BLACK JUDGE WITH BLINDING SPEED. The JUDGE attempts to SNATCH it from AIR but the FORCE pulls his arm out of his SOCKET.

“Any other intelligent ideas?” Caligula grins. The Black Judge rams his shoulder into a wall, RESETTING THE BONE, and CHARGES FORWARD. CALIGULA SPREADS OUT HIS LEGS and PRESSES his FINGERS into his SOLAR PLEXUS. The Black Judge leaps into the AIR as CALIGULA’S EYES BEGIN to STRAIN FROM THEIR SOCKETS. A huge LUMP forms in CALIGULA’S THROAT and SUDDENLY, A MOTHERFUCKING SKELETON IS FIRED FROM HIS THROAT.

“S-SHIT!” THE BLACK JUDGE STRIKES THE SKELETON with the GAVEL, SHATTERING it to PIECES. However, a SCANT AMOUNT of the BILE on the SKELETON touches the Black Judge’s LEATHER CHESTPLATE and begins BURNING THROUGH IT. The Judge rips it off and tosses it aside, revealing a torso littered with scars.

“GUOFAAAW!” CALIGULA VOMITS as the SKELETON OF A WOMAN (with the SKELETON of a FETUS inside her RIBCAGE) TORPEDOES towards the BLACK JUDGE. The JUDGE’S GAVEL bursts through the ACID-SOAKED BONES as he CONTINUES RUSHING FORWARD. BALLS OF BILE-DRENCHED FLESH AND BONE RISE UP FROM CALIGULA’S THROAT and are LAUNCHED TOWARDS THE BLACK JUDGE. Each one he AVOIDS, until he MERE FEET away from the EMPEROR.

PRAAANK! THE GAVEL SLAMS INTO CALIGULA’S LEFT PECTORAL, SENDING RIPPLES THROUGH OUT HIS BODY. A MIGHTY INTENDS to DECAPITATE the CLOAKED ASSASSIN, but he DUCKS it and RETURNS a GAVEL SWING to CALIGULA’S KIDNEYS. Caligula STEPS BACK and RECIEVES another BLOW, SQUARE ON HIS STERNUM. Blood begins to seep from mouth.

CRUNCH! THE STERNUM INSIDE CALIGULA’S INVINCIBLE BODY FRACTURES UNDER THE WEIGHT OF THE BLACK JUDGE’S GAVEL. ONCE AGAIN HE SWINGS HIS ARM BUT MISSES. CRAAACK! A RIB TURNS TO DUST FROM THE POWER OF THE JUDGE, HIS SCARRED ARMS BULGING WITH EACH SWING.

“D-DAMN YOUUUU!” CALIGULA THROWS A FIST FORWARD. THE WIND COMING OFF THE STRAIGHT TURNS RUBBLE IN THE BACKGROUND BUT THE BLACK JUDGE HAS LEAPT ABOVE IT. COMING DOWN, HE SWINGS HIS GAVEL SQUARE IN CALIGULA’S FUCKING FACE!

HIS NOSE FLATTENED, MANY OF HIS TEETH KNOCKED OUT, CALIGULA HANGS HIS HEAD and a STREAM OF BLOOD DRIPS DOWN ONTO HIS MASSIVE GUT. Then his body begins to quake, QUAKE WITH LAUGHTER.

“IS THIS REALLY YOUR BEST?!” CALIGULA SHOUTS.

NO, THE BLACK JUDGE GAVEL IS BEHIND HIM. HIS MUSCLES STRAIN TO LIFT THE IMMENSE WEIGHT, SWINGING THE GODDAMNED GAVEL IN AN UPWARDS ARC.

“ERRYAAAAAAGH!” THE BLACK JUDGE SCREAMS. THE GAVEL STRIKES CALIGULA’S GUT AND LIFTS THE WHOLE THING. THE BLACK JUDGE CAN FEEL HIS MUSCLES BEGIN TO SNAP AS THE GROUND UNDER HIS FEET CRACKS FROM THE SHEER FORCE. THE GAVEL IS FINALLY FREE AFTER BEING DRAGGED ACROSS CALIGULA’S GUT, BUT THERE WAS NO EFFECT …

AT LEAST NOT IMMEDIATELY NOTICED. CALIGULA LOOKS DOWN AND WATCHES AS HIS STOMACH SPLITS OPEN ALONG THE SAME SCAR HE RECEIVED DECADES AGO. HE STUMBLES BACK AGAINST THE WALL, BLOOD SPEWING LIKE A FOUNTAIN FROM THE WOUND.

“TO THINK … SOMEONE LIKE YOU … COULD REALLY DO THIS … TO ME …” Caligula mutters as he spreads his arms across the wall. The Black Judge slings his gavel down, cleaning it off the blood that clings to its head.

“Caligula, you have been judged for crimes against existence,” the Black Judge mutters. Caligula slumps down against the wall, a smile on his face.

“I am not yet finished WADING AGAINST THIS RIVER OF FATE!” Caligula smiles. HE DIGS HIS FINGERS INTO THE WALL AND USES HIS BACK TO SLOWLY BREAK THE FOUNDATION OF THE HALL. THE CEILING BEGINS TO CRACK AS THE BLACK JUDGE CHARGES FORWARD.

“FAREWELL, ASSASSIN! IT IS NOT BY YOUR HANDS WILL I BE SET FREE FROM THIS WRETCHED WORLD!” CALIGULA LAUGHS AS THE CEILING CRASHES DOWN ON THE BLACK JUDGE.

-----

CHARLES ARTEMIS, MANNING A MACHINE GUN, shoots down another BLOOPER, sending its BLOOD-FILLED CORPSE CRASHING into the ARMY OF ZEED.

“I’ve bought you a little more time, sir,” Artemis tells Toity, who’s steering the zeppelin using a diamond-encrusted steering wheel.

“Good show,” Toity smirks, “Sinclair, lower the screen.”

AS THE BATTLE WAGES ON, TOITY’S ZEPPELIN LOWERS A GIANT TELEVISION SCREEN FROM ITS CARRIAGE. Some of the warriors stop slaughtering for a few moments and look up. The television screen turns on, revealing the ROSEY-CHEEKED, LEATHERY FACE of BARON HOITY VON TOITY.

“HELLO MURDER FANS. I was hoping all of you wonderful little slaughterers down there would stop BLUDGEONING one another to death for a few moments while I show you something. Trust me, you’re going to enjoy it.”

-----

“Hahh … hahh … hahh …” Caligula wheezes as he drags himself towards the GIANT CITADEL behind his ruined home of Castlevania. A large trail of blood follows him as Caligula holds his wound with one arm.

“If I can just escape … I can live a little longer and accomplish my goal …” Caligula smirks. With the FIREBALLS SCORCHING FROM THE AIR and the ARROWS RAINING DOWN briefly stopped by Toity, Caligula makes his way easily through his courtyard towards the tower.

Reaching the door, he pauses a moment to look up at the giant, black citadel. He takes his fingers and slowly presses them against the door. As the steel door swings open, a figure stands in his way. A look of absolute horror washes over Caligula.

“You …” Caligula mutters. The figure doesn’t respond. Caligula takes a step back, but then looks back up to the sky. He is resigned in his fate.

“I guess anything is possible …” Caligula smiles.

-----

Zeed bursts through one of Castlevania’s walls and steps out into the courtyard. Looking up, he sets his eyes on the giant tower both he and Caligula were headed for. One of his many servants rushes to his side.

“KING GOD EMPEROR, I believe CALIGULA may have escaped! What are your orders?” the servant asks. Zeed only chuckles in his impossibly deep voice.

“Caligula is dead,” Zeed replies.

“But … how do you know?” the servant asks. Zeed points up to the tip of the 50 stories-tall black tower. The servant drops to his knees in awe.

THE TOP FIFTY FEET OF THAT TOWER IS WRAPPED ENTIRELY IN CALIGULA’S INTESTINES. THE REST OF HIS SHREDDED FLESH AND BLOOD DRENCH THE TOP, HIS MOTHERFUCKING HEAD IMPALED ON THE SPIRE. IT IS BOTH A HORRIFYING AND MAGNIFICENT SIGHT.

“Things are getting very interesting,” Zeed grins.

-----

Just outside the castle, two cloaked figures traverse the wastelands. Each of their cloaks feature the infinity symbol across the back. One of the cloaked figures, the Brit, turns to his companion.

“So now what?” the Brit asks.

“We let them be,” the other cloaked figure replies.

-----

Toity’s visage fades from the giant television screen hanging from the zeppelin as the warring factions watch on.

The screen is black. One can faintly hear the sound of a heartbeat growing louder and louder. The repeated beeping of an EKG machine joins the heartbeat, the rhythm increasing in speed with the heartbeat. FROM OUT OF NOWHERE, a guitar begins to squeal violently as the letters "F T U W" grow from a single white dot in the center of the screen. AS THE GUITAR'S SQUEAL REACHES ITS BREAKING POINT, THE LETTERS VIBRATE RETARDEDLY UNTIL THEY EXPLODE. The song is "Arcane Death Explosion" by Viscerape. The lead singer, Leitch, belts out a MONSTROUS GROAN in tune to footage of Ant King viciously raping Corey Nguyen.

#Graaaaaaaaaahh!!#

Handsomus R. Awesome and Theldorrin XIII trade titanic blows in the center of the ring. Sella Phayne slaps his chest, mouthing off while pointing his 9mm at the camera. A shot of the Jack Masterson getting impaled in the face with a SPEAR is followed by Puff Ryder FIRING OFF HIS EXTENDED BONG into Phayne's pick-up.

#COME-ON-COME-ON-COME-ON-COME-OOONNNRAAARGH!#

Baron Hoity von Toity DROPS AN ELBOW ONTO SAKETUMI'S SKULL. Masterson hurls a hatchet that flies into the mouth of the Minister of Beards, Guan Fei. Ooka Jooka flies HIGH ABOVE THE ARENA, his dick trailing behind him. Handsomus and Theldorrin clash CHARIOTS AT HIGH SPEEDS. Ant King SCREAMS and vomits up a SWARM OF HORNETS. Fancy Lala rolls around on the floor, shitting his pants, before the footage switches over to Kuroda plucking out Jonesie's eyeball with his toes.

#The RAAAAAPE! THE MURDAAAAAH! THE RAPE AND THE MURDDAAH MURDER RAAAPE!#

Krystol stands on the CELL IN THE HELL, Non-American Championship raised above his head. Saketumi and Jack Daniels HEADBUTT EACH OTHER OVER AND OVER, CAUSING THE GROUND AT THEIR FEET TO CRACK! Theldorrin XIV hovers above FUCK MOUNTAIN, wielding a massive MOLTEN BOULDER. Moloch Arschloch bites off Saito's fingers. Bin Destruction CRASHES DOWN FROM OUTER SPACE and collides into Puff Ryder's chest. Daniels hits both Theldorrin and Saketumi with bursts of flames.

#I CAN'T AH STOP THIS RAPING AND MURDAH-RING! YOU CAN'T STOP ALL THIS SUFFERING! GRAAAAARGH!!

Rakkyu Saketumi stands unconscious, dead, in his friends' arms, gripping the World Title belt tightly. A minigun BURSTS from ANT KING'S FUCKING ASS and STARTS FIRING ROUND AFTER ROUND as he feeds ammo down his goddamned throat. Charles Bronson emerges from a hardware store with chainsaws replacing his arms and legs!

#RAAAAAPE RAAAAAPE!!#

McHarris CLOTHESLINES THROUGH A FUCKING CAR. GUAN FEI AND THELDORRIN XIV FALL WHILE HUNDREDS OF FEET ABOVE GROUND, TRADING FISTS. HANDSOMUS R. AWESOME CRASHES A COMET INTO MADISON SQUARE GARDEN, BROUGHT BACK FROM THE DEAD. DANIELS, KENJIRO, HANDSOMUS, AND GUAN FEI ROCK THE FUCK OUT AND ERADICATE THELDORRIN OFF THE FACE OF THE EARTH!

The music reaches it CRESCENDO as The Ant King and Guan Fei TRADE BLOWS WHILE BEING IMPALED WITH THEIR OPPONENT'S FLAGS. The FUCKING FTUW logo BURSTS THROUGH A BRICK WALL, blood spurting from the hole for some reason. The screen fades to black.

The armies are stunned, and then a faint noise can be heard from the pit of the humanity. That NOISE grows into a ROAR that BURSTS INTO A FULL-FLEDGED FUCKING EXPLOSION OF CHEERING. WITH RENEWED VIGOR, THEY TOSS AWAY THEIR WEAPONS AND BEGIN PUNCHING, CLOTHESLINING, PILEDRIVERING, CORKSCREWING, SPLASHING, SUPLEXING, AND MOST IMPORTANTLY, POWERBOMBING THE FUCK OUT OF EACH OTHER.

“FTUW!! FTUW!! FTUW!!” THE CROWD SCREAMS THEIR FUCKING HEARTS OUT WHILE BEATING EACH OTHER TO DEATH.

BARON HOITY VON TOITY SITS ON HIS PLATIGOLD, BEJEWELED THRONE, CRADLING HIS FINGERS. Behind the shadows one can see his GLEAMING SMILE.

“The FTUW … is reborn …”
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