Sorry Kody, I forgot about that post, my bad. Ill have a bit more patientce from now on.
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Sorry Kody, I forgot about that post, my bad. Ill have a bit more patientce from now on.
Heat B is finished now though...
Hardy har har, Martijn. :P
Well, I did say this would continue, didnt I?
The Elder Swear vs. Derek Del Boy Trotter
House fighters are...gone?
It is downright mute around the salesman, save the raging wind blowing infinite particles of dust and dirt into the air. There seems to be no living thing within hundreds of miles, but of course you would have that impression if you could hardly see 5 metres in front of you. The dust swarms over him in a typhoon motion as he makes his way across the blasted plain. The pits are filled with reeking mud and foul waters, and the stench is almost unbearable, and there seems to be a deadening voice amongst the wind. Quickly Derek strides now, desperate to escape this hellish desert, and suddenly, out of the gathering dust, a tall gate appears, looming over the man like a gigantic shadow. The salesman espies two towers on either side of the gate shaped like teeth, and though there still does not seem to be any form of life, the entire crevasse is filled with a deep watchfulness. Derek approaches the gate and lightly taps the gate, and withdraws his finger as if he had been burned...which he is. The tip of the finger is now charred black and lifeless as he gazes at it in agony and astonishment.
Suddenly, as though the touch was a signal of some kind, the brazen doors slowly begin to swing forth. Derek backs off to avoid being brushed aside by the doors, tripping as he does so and soaking his entire head in a pool of slime and filth. He swiftly leaps back to his feet, brushing the muck away, as a single horseman gallops towards the salesman. Derek stares; the horseman is robed in black; his horse was a black one; even his lofty helm was dark. As Derek stands there, taking in the horsemans appearance, the beast halts, and the rider addresses the salesman.
I am the Mouth of Sauron.
Derek has no idea who this Sauron is, he was only marked down to deliver a small parcel to someone named Dark Lord.
Err, excuse me, do you know where this Dark Lord is? he asks the horseman. I have something here for him.
He resides on the tower, looking for the one treasure that will allow him to cover the entire world in a second darkness, comes the reply.
A second darkness? Uh...that wouldnt be good, would it?
You...are not allied with him?
Im just a salesman, sir, here to deliver something to him.
The horseman explodes with fury.
THAT SAURON! HE NEVER TELLS ME THESE THINGS! AHHHHH - He then begins to let loose a flurry of enraged curses, which sound the same as something seen on Potter Puppet Pals. Derek stares at him for a second, then proceeds to walk past him, even while the Mouth of Sauron is still cursing. Derek decides that hell leave the parcel in the volcano so that the Dark Lord will find it.
A week later (and STILL the horseman is cursing, though steadily running out of breath) he finally gets to the volcano, and finding an entrance he makes his way into the volcano. He puts the parcel down, then smacks his head; he forgot to check his shoe for earwigs. He bends down, but loses his balance and kicks the parcel into the Crack of Doom
Oh my! Uh...I dont think anybody should know about this. He turns and runs away. Had he looked down, he would have known the ensuing destruction he had to escape on the back to the gate was caused by the parcel itself, which contained, ironically, The One Ring.
And the Mouth of Sauron realizes it. Mid-curse, he shrivels up, and fades from the world.
Derek Del Boy Trotter advances to Round 2!
(Message edited by kodster on September 29, 200
Ze next two fights, just to get Alex and Steve to say what their characters would do in this situation, are...
Timothy James Sillery vs. Lord DoomForAll
Professor Vengeance vs. Hell
ROUND 1
Hell VS PROFESSOR VENGEANCE
Well, what else IS there to do?
Team up and take over the tournament. :wink:
If Hell declines the offer, get on the cosmic telephone with God and dish the dirt on Hell.
(Message edited by Steven_McG on October 02, 200
Well... Im honestly stuck... I mean... I have so many choices... its like being in some kind of battle-based buffet...
I think Ill go along with elaborate and vaguely comical deathtraps. If not... just some kind of telekinetic atomising...
Well, Im bored.
Timothy James Sillery vs. Lord DoomForAll
House fighters are Auguel and Ancalagon.
There is nothing. The space that fills the rather whitish area is utterly forsaken...or is it...black lines, apparently conceived of ink, spread across the nothingness, forming frames. Into the suddenly realistic frames stumbles a teenager. He appears to be giggling to himself, for what reason is unknown. He strides ahead, and is mauled by a grizzly bear out of nowhere. However, he gets up, his jugular ripped open and sporting several gashes along his body, yet he seems to disregard this completely and continues walking. How a human being can walk about lightly with their throat mangled is beyond anyone, but we can save that for later as a group of Mexicans arrive on the spot with tambourines and saxophones, and start to play songs by Atomic Kitten, while the singer has a voice similar to that of Pippi Longstocking. Timothy however just walks by this, although his ears explode off his head, yet uncaring is this fool as he saunters past. An apple hits him in the head, yet on he goes. Thus a series of encounters occur, in order: three blind mice, Ringwraiths, Dick Cheney, a red 1988 Honda S800 with pink stripes, a narwhal/muskrat hybrid, a floating Chinese checkers board, a statue of Edward Fleming, and finally the house fighters appear, at which point Timothy resembles little more than a large mound of bloodied paste standing on bones. Auguel brings his fists down on the mound, crushing the bones that were once legs in powder, and Ancalagon emits a sorcerous blast of green fire from his maw, incinerating the pathetic excuse for a homo sapien in one fell breath.
Lord DoomForAll yawns, stares at the piece of parchment that he had used as a drawing board for one of his elaborate plans, yet only Timothy James Sillery would fall into such a predicament, as just witnessed: Professor Vengeance would never be even bemused by such drivel. He scrunches the piece of parchment up and throws it into one of the rift orbs he controls, which in turn turns the parchment into a paper monster intent on destroying infinite amounts of life forms...DoomForAll doesnt care, he can take care of that trifle in his spare time.
Lord DoomForAll advances to Round 2!
Right...Ive NO idea how to write the next battle...
...so Joey is going to be doing it for me.
I think Im losing my touch. :sad: Oh whatever. :P
You think Kodys recent battles were bad, you havent seen nothin yet.
PROFESSOR VENGEANCE vs. HELL
The house fighters should be Asterix and Starfire, but apparently Starfire was caught in a giant trap that slowly subjects her to every single shock image ever unleashed on the net. Asterix was last seen rushing excitedly to the site of said trap with several of the other house fighters, with Taki brandishing a ninja videocamerataku and shouting an ominous battlecry that resembled This is going straight to Youtube!
Somewhere inside the Arctic Circle in a dark place as yet untouched and unseen by humanity, a group of squirrels attempting to penetrate the icy ground with their claws suddenly froze and scattered as footsteps began to echo off the cliff face towering above them, barely dulled by the mass of skeletal wooden monoliths separating their sound from their source, deep inside what was once a lush, fertile forest. Steve McGregor exhaled sharply and pulled his scarf further around his neck, the chill of the air beginning to bite down through his skin and make him wish he had never agreed to come here in the first place.
Here, he thought to himself, here is where I chose to meet with the forces of evil? His reasoning had been that in a fairly isolated area like this if anything did result from this negotiation nobody would suspect anything, and also that the alternative he had been offered would have meant braving Wolverhampton town centre on a Saturday night while the clubs were kicking everyone out. The comfort this reasoning brought him did little to allay his apprehension as he continued walking in between the great rotten spires that seemed poised to collapse and bring the entire damned forest down on top of him. Blotting that thought out of his mind he began to listen to the sound of his own footsteps, picking rhythms out of them as they fell and lightly crunched the dead, permafrosted ground beneath his heavy boots.
Crunch, crunch, CRUNCH, crunch, crunch crunch, CRUNCH, crunch, ...
Suddenly, there was silence. The place where the most germane sounds cannot be discerned had arrived, just as he had been told it would. Steve pulled the hood from his head, bowed it, and announced in the most authoritative voice he could muster while suffering from what felt like the worst cold in the entire world, I have arrived.
After a pause, his field of vision began to decrease dramatically as an ethereal sound filled his mind, seemingly from a source within his head rather than anything external. He tried to open his eyes further to see but was met with an almost reactionary darkening, blocking his view entirely. Letting out a small cry from being rendered deaf, blind, and cold, he was answered when all suddenly became clear again, the sound abruptly ceasing to register and the endless white and grey of the landscape returning to his eyes, although punctuated sharply by one thing - the contrasting sight of the indescribable Ruler Of All Hell, Satan.
I see you have arrived unprotected and unarmed, Professor, as I requested. Your out of character humility impresses me an echoing, sinister voice emanated from the beings vicinity.
...yes, Satan. What is it that you seek from me? Steve replied, trying his best to avoid showing any sort of fear or dread.
...huh?
What do you wish to negotiate?
Negrotty...negotiamat...megotiate. Trade. Ah. The tone that the creature emanated was now lacking in a lot of its reverb and malice. Well, I thought the general arrangement was that I let you live and have some rule over parts of Scotland, in exchange for you allowing me an outlet to posess and take over the entire world, vanquishing God, the United Nations, and the entire cast of Misfile all at once
...yeah, its kinda like that I think. Steve brightened up at the prospect of controlling most of Scotland, as the seedlings of ideas for what do do with this power, first sown several months ago when all this began, returned to bear fruit into his mind.
Good, good. Its bloody cold here, so I think waiting to begin this process is without point. Shall we?
It is, rather, Satan. I say we begin now.
Very well, then. Dramatic voice time again...humanity, you shall regret the day you ever sought to defy the teachings of Satan. For now, I shall be your God, and you shall call me...your master...CRY HAVOC, AND LET LOOSE THE FERRETS OF WAR!
Steve stifled a giggle. ...ferrets of war? Seriously, Satan, are they going to inspire fear in the populace?
They...uh...they should have some effect. If nothing else, theyll be laughing too much to notice that their throats are being ripped out
...laughing? Its more lame than anything else. Ferrets are boring and non-threatening. Sheep are funnier
When was the last time you saw a carnivorous sheep? Satan retorted. Besides, ferrets are funny. Take their name for instance. Its an inherently funny word. Say it a few times. Ferret. Ferret. Ferret ferret ferret ferret ferret ferret ferret
Hmm. Touche. Let these ferrets of loose wreck the world then!
Indeed, Professor...
The destruction of the world begun, Steve was granted the use of a passage though Hell itself to return to his abode and prepare for a new career as Professor Vengeance, Ruler Of Whats Left Of Scotland. Remembering the tournament while there, and in a spectacular piece of salvage work by the writer who clearly was going to take ages to draw this battle to its intended conclusion otherwise, he switched the signs on the maintenance panels in hell of Evil Throne Room Unlock and Thermostat. Therefore, when Satan returned to prepare for the worlds doom, he opened the wrong one and promptly succeeded in making Hell freeze over, eliciting the loudest usage of the word BOLLOCKS! in the history of the entire universe.
Since a frozen Hell is pretty much useless, PROFESSOR VENGEANCE GOES THROUGH TO ROUND 2!
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