Pitmas (Part 2/2)

LAST TIME ON PITMAS...

"Cry if you want, boy, 'cause you had the chance to walk away. But you let me in, and I ain't leavin' till I get what's due to me. Expect me back same time, every day, until you guess right, and each time you guess wrong, I take somethin' from you. And if you don't get it by Christmas Mornin'..."

We now return to your regularly scheduled programming...

-------

"Utsuho... I'm really sorry..."

Those were the first words Pit managed to croak out, once he'd sipped from the glass of water and got some of his breath back.

"I... haven't been honest with you. There's something about me... that I haven't told you, or anyone else. Because it's a part of my life that I... don't like remembering. I went into a really dark place, then... and I didn't think it'd come back to haunt me like this. But now it's back, and I don't know what to do or how to stop it..."

He paused, swallowing, fighting back the urge to start sobbing again. Then he nearly jumped as two strong, warm arms wound themselves around him, and black wings joined in shortly after, creating a warm, comforting feather blanket. There were times having a living hot water bottle for a girlfriend was a very big blessing.

"...What is it?" Utsuho's voice was soft, and soothing. "You can tell me anything, Pit, especially if it's something important..."

Pit swallowed again, and did his best.

"...it was when I was very young, and a lot poorer. My parents... they used to fight a lot, mostly about money. Dad worked hard to make it, but Mum always spent it on stupid things like drugs. One night, before Christmas, it got really bad. So I did a dumb thing - I ran away, because I couldn't stand it. And I got lost in the seedy part of Manhattan - you know the sort of place. Where all the gangs and illicit business goes on. And then...

"I met this gentleman, he called himself Two-Coats... and he made me a deal that I could get rich and never have to worry about my parents fighting ever again. And I said yes, because I was desperate and frightened and didn't know what else to do..."

He paused, and took a big breath. Then he reached for the box of tissues, because his eyes were watering. It hurt, to admit all of this - it was a moment in his life that he had never told anybody, not even his parents. And now he was admitting it to his wife, the person with whom he ought to be the most honest with, after it would have been appropriate to tell her. Real smooth, Pit, he thought to himself as he dabbed at his face. Aurora would have cut your fingers off by now - and you'd deserve it.

"I don't know he did it, but... I ended up getting a position reserved at Sintendo, for new talent. And I never heard from him since then, until now. Because I owe him. But he's playing some twisted game... he's giving me a chance to get out of it by trying to guess what his real name is. Every time I guess wrong... well, you can see what happens there. And if I don't find out what it is by Christmas Morning... I'll lose everything."

His voice vecame very small, almost inaudible.

 "...even you..."

A moment of silence. Which was the first warning sign - Even when down or depressed, Utsuho stilled liked to talk. It made things easier for the both of them when they did that. Whenever the Hell Raven fell silent, for any reason whatsoever, then that was a bad sign, because either she was really upset about something...

"...So he's given you a chance and now he's taking it away for no good reason, and that includes me?"

...or really angry about something.

And Pit soon discovered, as her temperature suddenly rocketed and flames began to lick the air around her, that it was the latter.

"I wanna know," she hissed, eyes blazing, "if there's any reason I shouldn't just blast his face off the second he steps in!"

It took Pit a few seconds to reply. Mostly because he'd forgotten how scary his wife could be when she got angry. But once he'd remembered that yes, that was his beloved Utsuho standing in front of him, he managed to find his voice.

"...because I'm fairly certain," he responded, slowly, "that he could eat your danmaku and call them spicy meatballs. Seriously, this guy has a stomach bigger than Sarah - no offense to the girl, mind you, but there it is. Also," he added, quickly, to assure that he was still taking this seriously, "he might be a demon. And after all these years with the Kobbers, we both know what a bother it is to kill those things."
 
"Oh..." Utsuho deflated, wings sagging and fire flickering out in dissapointment. It was almost comical to watch - Pit knew how much his wife liked to fight things, and learning that this was a problem you couldn't solve through punching always seemed to dampen her spirits. But it didn't last long, and soon the Hell Raven had a thoughtful look upon her face as she pondered the situation.

"Then how do we figure out his name or whatever? Normally this is the kind of thing I'd ask Lady Satori about but I'm pretty sure she wouldn't know... do we need to find other people or something?"

Pit blanched at the implications. "I... I'd rather not have to get anyone else involved. Two-Coats might come after them as well, and I don't want to inflict this on any of the other Kobbers. Not when they're supposed to be having their holiday." Especially Dirk, he mentally added. He's probably sick of having to play hero on Christmas.

"But I suppose," he added, "maybe we could find someone who does know about this sort of thing... We need to research this guy, and fast, before he ruins Christmas and my life for good."

Utsuho nodded. "Alright, if you've got any idea where to start I'll fly over wherever you need! We don't have that much time so let's get going, Pit!"

"Okay, then..." Immensely cheered up by his wife's ethusiasm, Pit stood up and pocketed the mass of tissues he had accumilated, before heading out to collect his coat. Utsuho followed, as eager as he was to get this problem nipped in the bud.

"First," announced the Light Angel as he threw on the heavy garment, "let's start with the library! If there's any books on demonology that can tell us what this guy does, and if he has a weakness, we'll need them! And if we can find where this guy lurks as well, that'll be doubly useful!

"...You any good at reading, Okuu?" he asked, after a moment's thought.

"Yep! ...Although I need to take lots of notes to actually keep anything, eheheheh..."

Pit shrugged. "Eh, we'll work on it. And if we meet Gloria, that's more help for us. Let's go!"

-------

The library was still open at this time of night, surprisingly. Pit had always wondered why Gloria would keep it open to he public, instead of closing it to spend more time with her family on Christmas, but right now he was extremely grateful that she did. And in any case, there were more important things to worry about then what Gloria did in her spare time - most likely reading, if the angel knew her at all.

Of course, he wasn't one to throw stones at the moment, not when he was frantically flicking through some dusty old tomes himself. He had no idea that there were so many books on demonology - in fact, he recognized a few himself, from his school days when demonology was a compulsory thing. And thankfully, his skills in taking rapid-fire notes whilst the teacher talked hadn't diminished in the slightest. So there he was, copying as much of the old-timey, floral text as he could make out, his wrist groing rapidly tired as he wrote upon what might have been his third piece of paper of the night.

Thank goodness Gloria was so understanding. And had so much paper.

He knew he was done when he turned the page for the book he was on and found it blank - he'd reached the end. With a groan of exertion he closed the book, prised his fingers away from his pen and reached for another. As he did so, he happened to glance sideways, where he knew Utsuho was sitting at another part of the table with her half of the books-

-and found her slumped over her notes, fast asleep.

After a confused pause, he gave a sigh and shook his head a little, although a smile graced his face at the sight. In all honesty, he should have expected this to happen - it was getting late, and the two had already exhausted themselves somewhat by worrying about the Two-Coats situation. He couldn't really fault her for losing concentration like this, especially in here. The angel didn't know of any other places that were more conductive to falling asleep than the stuffy air of a library, except maybe his own comfy bed.

Besides, she looked really cute when she was alseep.

Rising carefully from his seat, Pit reached over and carefully shook his wife by the shoulder. "Okuu?"

"Hnh? What?" Utsuho's eyes fluttered open, and lifted her head to look up at him with bleary eyes. For a moment, it seemed as though she'd forgotten where she was or what she was doing, and Pit's heart nearly melted into goo at the sight of it.

"You fell asleep," he explained.

Realization quickly came to the Hell Raven, and she groggily pulled herself upright. "Sorry, Pit, eheheheh... I guess I just got tired..."

"Yeah, I don't blame you." Pit reached for his chair and shuffled it around, positioning it next to Utsuho. "Shall we compare what we've got, at least?"

Utsuho nodded, and the two sat side-by-side as they looked over what they had managed to extract from the collections of tomes and grimoires on the subject. Much to their dissapointment, only a few went into any detail about the creature they were facing now, and most of them repeated the same thing ad nauseum - perhaps the authors had been in cahoots with each other at some point. The info they had gathered, though, said a lot - their adversary went under many names, the River King being one of them, and it turned out he fed on human misery, and thus had been making unsavoury deals since the earliest civilizations.

"So," grumbled Pit as he observed that particular passage. "It's not just me. He's been pulling this shit for a long time, and on Palutena-knows how many people."

"I wonder," mused Utsuho as she leaned over his shoulder, "if anyone else thought of trying to stop him. I mean, they can't just let him get away with this, right...?"

"Seems some tried." Pit's tone was sour as he noted a particularly striking image - the fat, fish-faced demon happily picking his teeth with some unfortunate knight's sword.

It wasn't long, however, before some breakthroughs were made. Utsuho had found that the thing needed to be invited into houses, much like a vampire, and could only manifest physically when people had made deals with him. Which meant that, as long as Pit's bargain was in place, the creature was vulnerable. And there was one particular detail that, upon closer examination, the duo had agreed to keep as a backup plan, in case whatever solution they first tried didn't work out. It was worth remembering, at any rate.

But finally, they settled on something. Something that had been repeated consistently and frequently in every book featuring the monster they'd seen, where others either appeared in only a few, or only once. A pair of words that, when put into context, could only have been the solution they were looking for.

Tahm Kench.

"That must be it," insisted Pit, slapping a thumb to the page. "This has to be his real name - why else does it appear so much."

"Great!" Utsuho seemed very relieved that they'd found something of value - and also very baggy-eyed - as she began to gather the books up. "If that is his name, all you gotta do is guess it, and he'll leave you alone, right?"

Pit paused as he helped to sort the tomes, pondering. "I'm not that sure. If what they say about this guy is true, he might try and abuse some loophole to get out of it. 'That used to be my name, but not anymore' - that type of nonsense."

"Well..." Utsuho seemed worried for a few moments, but then her face steeled. "It's worth a try, right? And even if it doesn't work, at least we have the backup plan."

"Do we have a backup of the backup?" Pit grunted as he heaved his stack off the table.

"Yeah." The Hell Raven's eyes glinted. "Blow him off the face of this planet."

Pit laughed. "Of course."

But secretly, he was hoping that they wouldn't need to resort to backups.

-------

The next day proceeded as normally as the two could manage it. Pit did his usual jobs around the house - feeding the sharks, doing the dishes, putting out seed for the birds and things like that. But it was obvious that as hard as he tried to pretend things were okay, they really weren't, and he kept jumping at every sudden sound or movement. Utsuho knew what he was feeling, and helped, in small ways, to alleviate his discomfort, such as sitting next to him when The Muppets' Christmas Carol came on, or helping him with the cooking.

It helped keep his nerves in check come dinnertime.

They had been expecting the knock on the door. How could they not? They had been preparing for it all day - and it was no surprise to Pit that it came at exactly the same time it had previously. Right down to the minute, it was proved upon a quick glance at the clock, and husband and wife shared a look with each other as they steeled themselves for what was to come.

Then Pit put down the plate with the turkey on it, straightened up and went to the front door.

Utsuho had only seen pictures of the monster in the books they'd read last night, so she wasn't really sure what to assume of his appearance or mannerisms. She was not to be dissapointed - the thing that followed in Pit's wake as he walked into the dining room, sliding his copius frame through the door with a grunt of effort, was almost a fraction uglier than the drawings had suggested. The gleam in his eyes as he looked upon her, presumably for the first time, was even worse, almost predatory in their intent.

"Ah, is this the lovely Utsuho I've been told about?" The thing made a show of tipping his battered top hat - a false gesture of congeniality, if ever there was one. "I am delighted to make your acquaitence, my dear!"

"Likewise," muttered Utsuho, holding back the urge to throw up.

Dinner proceeded in the same fashion as it had previously - the monster making small talk as he devoured the food that had been prepared for other people, with his host trying his best to not scream in terror or reach for a knife. It amaed Utsuho at how rapidly the thing could devour the entire spread in front of it - she'd been reckoned a champion eater equal to Sarah, but the beast seemed to have literally no end to his appetite or bottom to his stomach. It was almost commendable, in a gross and off-putting kind of way.

Eventually, the table had been completely cleared, every plate licked clean by the fat tongue of the monster. The latter belched in satisfaction, picked a morsel from between his jagged fangs, then turned to the revolted duo beside him and heaved himself onto his feet.

"Now," he growled, leering ominously, "to business. You figured it out?"

"I've got some good guesses," was Pit's response. But he shared a nervous glance with Utsuho that did not go amiss.

"Well, let's hear 'em." And the bloated form of Two-Coats folded his arms, his enormous grin growing wider, and waited for the responses.

"Clarence?" was the first try.

But the creature shook its head, making its whiskers wobble. "First time wrong, kid. Try again."

"Boudreaux?" tried Pit.

"Nope," chuckled the beast. "But I gots me a cousin by the name Boudreaux? Not as refined of taste as yours truly, of course, but-"

"Tahm Kench."

The change that came over Two-Coats' countenance was startling. In almost the space of an entire second, the smug grin fell away, the yellow eyes widened with dawning realization, and what colour remained in the clammy, grey skin drained out. It was the first time that Pit had ever seen the creature with an expression other than self-confident superiority, and it was almost frightening how different he looked when he wasn't gloating or monologing.

"...what?" he hissed.

"Tahm Kench," repeated Pit, but now with more confidence. "That's your name, right?"

A pause.

Then Tahm Kench gave an ugly chuckle.

"Very good," he growled. "Didn't think you'd get it right - but then again, that be the same mistake ol' 'Stilkskin made. Guess we demon-types be slow learners, eh?"

"Yep," retorted Pit, feeling a weight lift off of his heart. This was it. Finally, he'd bested the demon, and he was free from the horrible bargain that he'd made so long ago, when he was but a young child. Now he could get on with his life without having to look over his shoulder allthe time-

And then the tongue lashed out and scooped the gifts right out from next to the television. There was a flash of wrapping that whizzed by Pit's face for a moment, then it all disappeared with a titanic crunching noise as Tahm Kench bit down with a sharp, almost physical finality.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" screamed the angel.

"Ah gave you till Christmas Morn' to guess my name," snarled the beast, once he had finished chewing. "But I never said nothing about leavin' yer alone if you got it right, and if your honestly though that was gonna happen, yer dumber than a catfish on dry mud! A payment is due, Peter Angelos, an' I will get what is-"

"HOLD IT!"

Pit's vision was suddenly full of black wings and warmth. When he looked again, Utsuho was standing in his way, arms spread in front of her defiantly. He couldn't see her face, but he could feel the intense heat radiating off from her, and could very well picture the barely-contained scowl of rage she would have had on her face. He also couldn't see Tahm Kench, for some reason, but his response showed an uncharacteristic confusion - he could picture the massive brow creasing and the eyes narrowing.

"What's this about?" the fish monster snarled.

"You want to get to Pit so bad?" snapped Utsuho. "Then take me!"

Pit's blood ran cold, and he nearly screamed out something in protest.

"Well..." said Tahm, after a moment's pause, "that's awful kind of ya. I do so like hot food-"

"On one condition. You give back everything you've taken from him. You do that, and I'm yours. Just leave Pit alone."

Instantly, Tahm Kench flung back his head and let out a roar of rage that shook the house. Pit clamped his hands over his ears to try and block it out, but the mere volume of it rattled his bones, and he nearly lost his balance and fell over as the air around him seemed to vibrate.

"WHO TOLD YOU THAT?!" screamed Tahm Kench, in an apoplexy of fury. "WHO TOLD YOU HOW TO DO THAT?!"

"I did my research," Pit thought he heard Utsuho shout, over the gnashing of teeth. But it was clear that the monster wasn't listening anymore - he was in such a fury that he no longer seemed to care what he was doing, or who was inthe room with him. Eyes nearly bursting out of his skull, the River King was alternating between snapping at the air with his crooked jaws as he ranted, and lashing about with a tongue that writhed and coiled like a serpent recieving drastic shock therapy. It was quite horrible to watch, yet Pit didn't feel an ounce of sympathy for Tahm.

"WAS IT AATROX?! BY THE BLACK BAYS OF BILGEWATER, WHEN I CATCH THAT SON OF A-!"

"Whoa, careful, you might bite your-"

There was a noise like a steak being cut in half.

"...tongue," Pit finished lamely, as the appendage flopped to the carpet, still spurting blood.

Tahm Kench stared at it.

Then he gave a noise between a cough and a growl, and all at once everything he'd eaten since turning up at the angel's house came pouring out of his cavernous throat. The decorations, the tree, the food, the gifts - all if it was there, and all of it was whole and untouched, as if it hadn't been ripped callously off the walls, or crunched up and swallowed a day ago. And, much to Pit's surprise, none of it smelt of stomach, or looked digested in any way.

But he had little time to ponder that phenomenon. The thumping of footsteps made him jerk his head up, just in time to see Tahm Kench, roaring and spitting red, barge his way out of the door and lumber down the path. Both Pit and Utsuho ran after him, and reached the door just in time to see him race down the street, still gargling and snarling with blood dribbling down his chin, before he turned a corner and vanished out of sight.

"AND DON'T COME BACK!" hollered Utsuho, waving her arm cannon threateningly. Pit couldn't resist a chuckle at that, knowing full well that his wife was holding back a good deal, for the safety of the people. Had he given her permission, she would have thrown an entire sun on top of Kench to stop him coming back, but the colatteral wouldn't have been worth it, as far as Pit was concerned. People wanted a white Christmas, he'd explained, not a charred one sprinkled with radiation.

Quickly, because it was cold, the two drew inside and shut the door.

Then they turned and wrapped each other up in an enormous hug.

"I'm so glad that worked," Utsuho whispered into Pit's ear.

"Me, too," replied Pit. He had been hoping that Utsuho wouldn't have to resort to that - offering herself in return for all the stolen things had seemed crazy, at first, and Pit had objected quite vehemently. But the old tomes had turned out to be correct in one regard; Tahm Kench simply couldn't stomach an unselfish deal that wasn't for one's profit. Desperate people looking for a cheap way out, or greedy people seeking to better themselves, he could handle. But a bargain made from the goodness of one's heart was literal poison to him, undoing all the terror and curses he'd spun over his victims.

And that meant Pit was free.

Once they'd let go of each other. Utsuho took the food and, after making sure it was clean, helped to set it up on the table, putting the excess aside for reheating at a later time. Pit, meanwhile, busied himself with putting the decorations and presents back in their proper places - they were all completely whole, so it wasn't as hard as it looked. Between the two of them, they soon got the house back into its proper state, looking as festive and untouched as it had been before.

Once dinner was done (and Utsuho had complimented him on his cooking), Pit was washing the dishes when he saw the tongue, which had been put on a plate to deal with later on the kitchen countertop. He looked at it, very keenly, as he finished up the last few plates, set them aside and dried his hands on the tea towel. An idea was forming in his mind, and he let it stew for a few moments, turning it over and ensuring it was thoroughly thought out.

Then he reached for the phone, and made a call.

...

"'Sup, Dirk. How goes it?

"...of course. Listen, I need to ask something of you. Food-related.

"No, no, hear me out. Listen... how do you prepare a giant demon catfish's tongue? Like, I'm thinking of maybe cubing it for a stew, or just boiling and roasting it...

"...lots and lots of salt. Got it. Thanks a bunch, bro."

 You have been reading

~PITMAS: Frozen Creek~

A ZFRP Christmas Story

featuring:

PIT ANGELOS

UTSUHO ANGELOS

And introducing TAHM KENCH as HIMSELF

Featuring cameos by GLORIA ENCARTA and DIRK ANGELOS

MUSIC TRACK:

"You Make Me Feel So Young" - Frank Sinatra

"The River King" - Riot Games

"Sunken Crypt" - Alice: Madness Returns

"Valua City" - Skies of Arcadia

"Timber Owls" - Final Fantasy VIII

"Here Comes Trouble..." - Banjo-Tooie

"You're the Superstar!" - Mario Party 5

"It Feels Like Christmas" - The Muppet Christmas Carol

THANK YOU FOR READING!

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Pitmas (Part 1/2)

~THE ANGELOS RESIDENCE, MANHATTAN~

"You make me feel so young...
You make me feel so 'Spring has sprung'..."

It was a dumb song to sing, really. The only reason Pit was singing it at all was because it was on television so much. But it was surprisingly appropriate, considering what he was doing at the moment.

It was only last year that Utsuho had experienced Christmas properly. And whilst that had been a brillian experience, as far as Pit was concerned, that was when she had merely been his fiance, and not his wife as she was now. And this was going to be their first Christmas as a married couple - one that the angel wanted them both to cherish and remember for always afterwards. So, being the old-fashioned romantic he was, he had decided that this year, he was going to do something special for her, to make this year's Yuletide something to remember.

And that something was a Pre-Christmas Dinner back at his house.

It was a strange concept, to say the east, and one that even Dirk had raised an eyebrow at. But Pit knew how much that Utsuho loved her food, especially when it came to the yearly goodies. And thus did the white-winged angel find himself within the kitchen, busying himself over the pots on the stove and the slow cooker and goodness knows what else was going on in there. Whilst the eldest of the Angelos Brothers may not have been the esteemed cook his brother was, the fine, toothsome smell of roasting chestnuts, traditional Christmas pudding, cooking goose and more besides indicated he was making pretty good progress.

And he was pretty happy with that progress, as he continued singing along as he stirred the contents of a saucepan.

"And every time I see you grin,
I'm such a happy... in-dividual!"

Dirk has given some pointers, of course - he was the expert when it came to food prep. But the dark-winged angel had fully admitted that tradition was not something he was partial to, not after the gourmet cooking had been such a runaway success with Josephine. So whilst he'd given what advice he could, in the end it had been mostly up to Pit to make it work. And as he took a small taste of the cranberry sauce he was working on, he was pretty sure he was making it work just spectacularly.

Utsuho is going to love this, he thought to himself.

"You and I...
Are just like a-"

Knock knock.

Pit paused mid-stir, confusion lacing his mind. Then he put the spoon back in the saucepan, turned the heat down to "simmer" and made for the door. Who would be calling upon him at this time of the day? Certainly not Utsuho, as far as he knew - she'd promised to arrive much later than this, he knew, so that the dinner would be ready in time. And Wes Weasely hadn't figured out how to bypass their new honey badger security system, so it couldn't have been him...

The view through the door didn't give much indication, either - just a lare bulk, obscured by the frosted-over windows. Pit did not envy anyone who was outside this year, for it had been the worst sort of snow the city had seen for a good long while. He briefly wondered, as he approached the door, whom would be stupid or brave enough to try and withstand the driving blizzards to call upon his house, if they weren't his wife. Perhaps one of his portly uncles had arrived to share some of the family cider?

"Hel-" he began to say as he opened the door.

And then fearful recognition turned the word to thorns in his mouth.

"Oh, I do beg your pardon," drawled the monstrous thing on the doorstep. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything... important."

On the surface, the words seemed sincere, almost melodic. But Pit knew very well what sort of slimy ugliness was beneath them, and it made his stomach churn with disgust even as his blood froze in barely-restrained terror. He had to force his next sentence out, the words sticking in his throat, and they tasted bitter as he spoke, almost as if he was dreaming the whole situation.

"No, not at all," he lied, and instantly hated himself.

The beast gave an ugly chuckle, baring all of his teeth. "Well, now, can a gentleman come in from the cold? You know it ain't polite to refuse an old acquaintance, don't ya?"

"Of course." Pit stood aside automatically, gesturing with one hand. "Come right in."

The creature grinned wider, and turned sideways as he pushed his way through the doorframe, so as he could fit through and cross the threshold properly. Pit could have screamed as the thing entered his house, but said nothing as his uninvited guest ambled towards the dining room, filling the air with the foul scent of stagnant water and pudgy feet leaving damp track marks in the carpet. And as he watched the beast lug it's way past the next door, humming some backwater tune to itself, a horrible thought lanced across his mind like an icicle thrown by an Olympic javelin-thrower.

Please... Not now...

Pitmas (Prologue)

Once upon a time, there lived a very small angel with white wings, who was very unhappy. His mother was poor, and spent all her money on frivolous things. His father worked long hours, and was rarely around for him. His wings were very small indeed, smaller than any angel that had been born, and all the kids in school teased him because they were too small to let him fly. But worst of all was whenever his mother and father quarreled, for although they loved each other very much, they could not stand the other's bad habits, and this made the very small angel very sad indeed.

But the very small angel had a dream - a very big dream indeed. In the very small house where he lived, he could look out of his bedroom window and see the great, shining tower of Sintendo, like a beacon in the inky blackness of the Manhattan skyline. He knews that place was were all the most famous people were - Mario, Link and Samus among them. And before he went to sleep, he always wished that, some day, a very small angel would walk to the very top of that tower and meet those famous people.

"I'll be as famous as they are, some day," he would say to himself. "I know I'll be."

And that day came sooner than he thought.

One Christmas Eve, his mother and father were having a terrific argument, the worst one they had in a long time. The very small angel did his best to not listen to what they were saying, but they shouted so loud that it was very hard not to hear it.

"How do you expect me to feed this family?!" his father was saying. "How can I save up for anything on Christmas when you keep spending my money on your ridiculous Pipe and those wretched beads?!"

"What else am I supposed to do?!" his mother shouted back. "You're never around anymore! You don't even speak to our son, and he doesn't see you!"

"That's because I'm at work, trying to earn for this family!" yelled his father. "But of course, you wouldn't know anything about work, would you?"

"And you wouldn't know anything about being a parent!" shrieked his mother.

The very small angel covered his ears, trying not to listen to all this horrible shouting. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't not hear what came next, nor would he ever forget it.

"You're a disgrace!" bellowd his father. "I wish I'd never met you!"

"And I wish I'd never met you, either!" screamed his mother.

That was too much for the very small angel. With tears in his eyes, he ran down the stairs of their very small house, out of the door, down the garden path and down the street, away from the house. He didn't know or care where he was going, he just wanted to get away from the awful argument and not have to see his parents again. How could they say something like that to each other, on Christmas Eve? It wasn't fair, and it wasn't anybody's fault that they were poor and couldn't afford much! Why did they have to make such a big fight about it?

Night was falling fast, and soon it was very dark and cold. The very small angel didn't know where he'd run to, and found himself in a dark, dirty corner of the city, where not even the bravest dare go for fear of what lurked there. Soon, he began to be very sorry he ran away, and tried to find his way back home, but the more corners he turned, the more lost and frightened he became. He saw the mark of the Black Dragon on a wall, and knew what that meant, so he ran away quickly. And he met many people who looked at him kindly, or chased him away with knives, or didn't even notice him. But he never found his way home, or anyone who could tell him the way.

"Oh, why ever did I run away?" cried the very small angel. "I know mother and father arguing was bad, but it was much better than this! At least at home, I could be warm, and have something to eat!"

Just then, he heard a strange sound, coming from a dark corner that had, at the time, seemed damp and empty. As he listened, the sound grew and formed words, in a language that he had never heard before, not from his friends or at school - flowing and babbling like a river. And somehow, he felt drawn towards that dark, damp corner, as if it was offering him safety and comfort from the darkness around him. So he drew closer, and as he drew closer, the louder the sound became, and the more clearer the words, although he still didn't understand them.

When he got to the dark, damp corner, he saw that it was part of a bridge, that overlooked a river - which strange, because he was very sure the river had not been there before. At first, he couldn't see anything, but then he heard a splashing sound, and saw something move beneath the water.

So the very small angel looked over the bridge, and saw...

...a very large gentleman. 

PITMAS: FROZEN CREEK

Coming Soon... 

Useless Disturbing Nature Facts 3 - Don't Time Travel, Kids

In past issues of Useless Disturbing Nature Facts, I talked about plants that turn into rolling spheres, serial killer plants and why eagles should not be revered as much as they are. But now it's time to do what everyone does on New Year's Eve - gaze with hazy, cider-blurred eyes back on the previous years. If there's anything that fossils have taught us, it's that Mother Nature was hitting the wine spritzers pretty hard even before humanity came about, because nothing we have now matches up to the insanity that used to prowl the world. These creatures are probably the reason we shoudln't be cloning mammoths, because once the scientists get it into their heads to try and ressurect these guys, we might as well declare ourselves extinct immediately.

Ladies and gentlemen, without much in the way of further preamble, Useless Disturbing Nature Facts 3 - Don't Time Travel, Kids.

• Xiphactinus, or the Bulldog Fish, was a voracious fish from the Cretacious that liked to swallow it's prey whole. It's method of attack was to simply barrel out of depths exceeding 60km/h, or over 40 mph. This means that, in exceptionally clear water with visibility of 100 feet or so, it would still be visible for only two seconds before it ate you.
• Anomalocaris, from the Cambrian era, was the top predator of it's time. This was because it had one feature its primitive trilobite prey didn't - eyes. Wheras Trilobites could only detect the difference between light and dark, anomalocaris had extremely good vision, with 30'000 lenses in it's compound eyes - a modern dragonfly only has 28'000.
• Hatzegopteryx was a Cretaceous azhdarchid pterosaur, related to quetzalcoatlus. It was the size of a giraffe, had a 10-metre wingspan and lived in Romania. But the most horrifying thing about it was that it ate dinosaurs - specifically, magyarosaurus, a dwarf sauropod no bigger than a pony. If this thing was alive today, it would happily swallow humans whole like they were popcorn.
• It was long thought that Sinornithosaurus, a species of winged gliding dinosaur, was venomous. Grooves in it's jawbone were believed to indicate the presence of venom glands, similar to modern gila monsters and rear-fanged snakes, although this has been disputed. If this were true, it would have made sinornithosaurus the world's first-known venomous dinosaur. No, the Jurassic Park version of dilophosaurus doesn't count.
• Speaking of Jurassic Park, if you thought the mosasaurus in that was scary, Tylosaurus was infinitely worse. It grew up to 50 feet in length and would eat anything else in the ocean - including each other. And fossil discoveries have shown something worse - in order to protect their vulnerable young, tylosaurus would swim in gangs. If one was bad, then imagine how fucked you'd be if you met a whole crowd of them.
• Megalania or varanus priscus was a distant cousin of the Komodo dragon, and much worse. It could grow as big as 18 feet long, much larger than the average 8.5ft of Komodos, sprinted at about 6.7mph and was possibly venemous. The latter fact, if true, would have made it the biggest known venemous vertebrate animal to ever exist. Some people think megalania might be still alive today - let's hope they're wrong.
• Hyneria was a predatory fish from the Devonian period, growing as long as 8.2 feet in length and weighting two tonnes. It fed on early amphibians like hynerpeton, and was related to lungfish in that it was a lobe-finned fish, with pectoral fins similar in structure to limbs rather than the ray-shaped structures of most modern fish. It's believed that, like a killer whale, hyneria could beach itself and then 'walk' on land for a bit to snag prey on the shore, thanks to it's primitive lung.
• On the subject of fish, Stethacanthus is a primitve shark from the same time as hyneria, but was often preyed upon by the latter. It gets its name of the "Ironing-board shark" from the strange shape of its dorsal fin - tothis day, nobody knows why it would evolve such a feature. 
• And finally, where would we be in prehistory without Tyrannosaurus rex? You know the bit in Jurassic Park where Grant was all like "It can't see us if we don't move"? Yeah, that's bullshit. T. rex had eyes set in the side of it's head but faced partially forwards, giving it excellent binocular vision and depth perception as well as good general all-around vision. On top of this, scans of the brain cavity have determined that it might have been as smart as a dog, considering all the information it had to deal with in it's daily life. So in reality, the T. rex would have seen Grant and the stpid screamy girl, and then it would have eaten them. Sorry, JP, fans.

Want more UDNF? Just ask! Next time - the ants that have to keep moving, and other bizzare insects and arachnids!

Monster Mash Finale: Mecha Shark vs. Pteracuda

LAST TIME ON THE MONSTER MASH...

Sorry, sports fan, but we forgot to tell you about Donner und Blitz, the PTERACUDA BROTHERS. They're the current reigning champions of the Monster Mash circuit, having held the position for at least three years now, and they're not about to let some jumped-up newbie take their hard-earned glory away from them. Shrieking like banshees who've been tasered in the scrotum, the triphibian terrors circle the arena airspace, gnashing their horrible teeth, before diving down towards their prone prey...

We now return to your egularly scheduled program...

Tales of the One - The Rabbit Loses Her Tail

Many of the Tales of the One have a leaning towards explaining why things are the way they are. Much like the Just So Stories of Kipling, the Tales often explain strange peculiarities in nature, such as the donkey's voice, the snake's lack of legs and more besides. This story, again taken from the Tales of the One by Lady Lumley, is a quite popular one on Dragonus, for it has a little basis in historical accuracy as well as being a fine tale of trickery.

Monster Mash Round 3: The Fatal Four-Way

Ladies, Gentlemen and others...

The time has come, as a wise sea mammal once said. Okay, so that guy ended up eating a whole bunch of baby oysters because he was a prick, but you get the gist of it! The seats of the ThunderDome is packed to the brim with shrieking spectators, the popcorn and hot dogs are being traded around and everything is in place. Our energy shields are on full voltage to ensure that you're completely protected from the carnage about to take place here, and our contestants are champing at the bit to get ready for the big fracas of a finale that is...

It's me, Connor Hardy, up in the commentator's booth, and I'm as ready as you are...

-------

Jurassic World: Some Spoiler-Free Thoughts

"You are acting like we are engaged in some kind of mad science, but we are doing what we have done from the beginning. Nothing in Jurassic World is natural! We have always filled gaps in the genomes with the DNA of other animals, and if their genetic code was pure, many of them would look quite different! But you didn't ask for reality; you asked for more teeth!"

This line, from B.D. Wong's returning character Henry Wu, sums up a lot about Jurassic World. It's a lot of things, that line - it's justification for not keeping up to date with the latest paleontological discoveries (feathered T. rex, what the fuck), and a two-pronged jab with a toasting fork against both the science camp for decrying their choice to do so and the public for demanding bigger and better. It's a little ham-handed, but since the entire film seems to be a massive piss-take of today's Apple and CGI culture, it sort of fits, tonally speaking. Somehow, though, I don't think a film with dinosaurs in it ought to be the place to say so - maybe save that for the Social Justice blogs

It took literally ten years of development hell and botched script drafts, but it's finally here, folks. Jurassic World is set twenty-two years after the events of the first Jurassic Park film, thankfully ignoring the confused mess that was The Lost World and the B-Movie shlock that was Jurassic Park III. We have a theme park full of dinosaurs, and it works, and people love it - but not according to Bryce Dallas-Howard's character, who worships at the altar of Lord Focus Groups. Thinking people don't care for regular dinosaurs anymore, she goes ahead and commisions InGen's scientists to make a literal Frankenstein's dino, a genetic hybrid designed to wow the crowds with how disgustingly overpowered and fierce it is. I don't think it's a spoiler when I say it all goes to shit, thanks to a bunch of behind-the-scenes idiocy, and it ends up putting Bryce's two newphews in danger as the Indominus rex (I still prefer Diabolus) starts being a huge piece of shit and fucking up everything.

Ultradome (Prologue)

~MASTERS FOUNDATION ARENA, MANHATTAN, USA~

  

"HI-YOOOOO! Hello, sports fans, and welcome to yet another edition of the Masters Fighting Federation, live from beautiful Manhattan City! I'm your commentator, Jimmy "Flashfire" Mays, and I'll be giving you live commentary, on the spot, of tonight's rounds of the Masters World Championship! So far, we've seen the Rescue Rovers run rings around Dai Long, and Union Jack get hammered into fritters by The Cyborg Confederate, but the excitement's not over yet, cause'-"

"Ah, jest shaddup up, already," muttered Lilly Lop as she ran the polishing cloth back and forth over one of her thigh-mounted jet implants. It was bad enough to have butterflies in the stomach about what was going to happen next, but the announcer's obnoxiously cheerful and clearly-scripted banter was not helping in the slightest. There were days when she wanted to leap up to the booth, punch through the glass and slap the man so hard his eyes swapped places in their sockets, just to shut him up for five seconds. It would certainly give the crowd something to cheer about that wasn't this complete Mad Max shit-show, at least.

Lifting off the cloth, she bent down a little to check her handiwork. Much to her relief, the shell of the implant was now sparkling. Carbon-fibre, titanium and kevlar alloys had a way of doing that if you kept it up for long enough, and what's more, it had to if their owner was going to stay in the spotlight this year. The competition was getting as fierce as it was outlandish - India's Agent Peacock was currently wowing the crowds with his gaudy outfits and current winning streak, and there was pressure from Lilly's sponsors to try and be as flashy in order to compete with him. She had socked the spokesperson for daring to suggest that, but she knew that he had a point and that she seriously needed to step up her game.

Even as she contemplated this, a green light came on in the wall by her head, startling her for a moment.

"Lilly Lop, it's your cure," droned the bored voice from the speaker, before clicking off. Ah, Norman. At least there was somebody here who resented this complete idiocy as much as she did. Not really her type, though - she'd seen the scrawny, pimple-faced temp at his desk punching holes in timesheets and had immediately shut down. Even the sight of him induced a kind of dull, listless apathy, to the degree where it was almost like an infection and you had to wear a tissue over your mouth to avoid catching it.

Straightening up, Lilly permitted herself one last glance in the mirror. She still wasn't sure how to take it in - on the one hand, she was five-foot-four and proportioned like an athlete should be, with powerful legs and prominent abs being her talking points. On the other, the brown fur, paws, long ears and cotton tail above her rump brought back latent memories of hopping across grassy banks, nibbling flowers and perking the ears up for danger. And on the other hand belonging to this freakish mutant metaphor, the logo of the Masters Corporation gleamed gold against the scarlet metal of her arm, thigh and chest implants, the latter of which hummed contently as the plasma generator did it's work.

It was... a picture, to say the least.

And that was all the thought Lilly Lop gave to it, before turning and heading for the doors that lead to the arena.

-------

Birds of a Feather: Soprano

WARNING: The following contains spoilers for Steel Komodo's major plot. Only click this if you're really sure you want to know about the cartoonishly evil jerks you're going to fight this year. Otherwise, steer clear!

We clear? Now gimme five.

Fighting Game Characters Suck #2 - Andy and Mai

Last time on Fighting Game Characters Suck (which was like five months ago, Jesus fucking Christ), we discussed how Ryu, the poster boy of fighting games, is actually a mental deficient with the social skills of a drainpipe and is hellbent on ruining his best friend's life and, eventually, the lives of everyone else. This week, we're going to get a bit more personal with our mud-slinging - rather than insulting one guy, we're going to insult two people and explain why their plans are total crap. Step in, Andy Bogard and Shiranui Mai!

Today's FGCS comes with picture captions! You're welcome!

Welcome, welcome, take a seat. Now, I hear that the both of you are engaged to be married at... some point in the future. Whenever your company can make the time to make it a canon thing. And really, I would like to say congratulations. I mean, you two are such a perfect fit for each other! You both practice the same martial art, you both have ridiculous body proportions and you have irresponsibly long ponytails! Andy is a calm, compassionate soul and Mai is a fun-lover looking to settle down! Truly you are the perfect future partnersnrrrrrrrrk

...okay, I'm sorry, I couldn't finish that with a straight face. I would say congratulations, but then my throat would turn itself inside out for telling a dirty lie. Instead, I would suggest you not go through with this idiotic plan and just break up already. And if you, the reader, want to know about this weird marriage counselor turn I've taken, hit the jump and be educated.

WARNING: One or two images here may be NSFW. Please ensure your boss isn't reading over your shoulder before hitting that jump button. And then TATSUMAKI!

Birds of a Feather: Nevermore

WARNING: The following contains spoilers for Steel Komodo's major plot. Only click this if you're really sure you want to know about the cartoonishly evil jerks you're going to fight this year. Otherwise, steer clear!

We clear? Now gimme five.

Viva Las Vegas

WARNING: The following is really fucking long. Read only when you have the spare time. And also something to drink.

~THE PITBROS HOUSE, MANHATTAN~

"Aaaand... check."

"Alright!" whooped Dirk as he threw his last bag into the back of the car. "All set and ready!"

Pit nodded, smiling. Finally, everything was ready. After months of preparation, planning and... not getting too excited, everything was ready for their third big excursion. This time, the ZFS Corporation had settled down in Las Vegas, looking to branch out into big-budget hotels and nightlife entertainment on top of all it's over services, and the Pitbros. knew the other Kobbers would be right behind. It hadn't been hard to find the new King of Beasts - the combined hotel, lounge and casino resort had been advertised literally everywhere one could advertise such a thing. And where the King of Beasts went, the angels would go, naturally.

As Dirk headed round the car to add his computer back to the collection in the back seat, Pit looked up just in time to see Utsuho emerging from the house, her own small bag slung over one shoulder. The older brother had made sure to pack her suitcase in with the others in the trunk of the car, so the Hell Raven didn't have as much to bother carrying from the house.

"You ready?" grinned Pit.

"Yeah," responded Utsuho, holding up her own bag. "I've got everything!"

 "Alright, hop in." And Pit opened the passenger door, allowing Utsuho to walk down and climb into the seat. Then, as Dirk found his own place in the back, Pit circumnavigated the car and clambered into the driver's seat, ensuring he was well-seated before shutting the door.

"You excited to go?" he asked as he buckled up. "I know Vegas isn't going to be like anything you've been to before, so hopefully you'll enjoy it!"

"Yep!" Utsuho seemed to positively radiate excitement. "I mean, I know you took me to Manhattan, but you said it's a lot different from Vegas, so I'm really wondering what it'll be like!"

"Yeah, I've never been, either!" A grin split Pit's face as he pulled out the Satnav. "This is gonna be a new experience for both of us!"

"Not to mention getting married, too!" Dirk shot back. "Hope you guys booked a decent venue - if they don't do shots, I'm out!" Pit just rolled his eyes at that - maybe asking Dirk to be the best man wasn't the brilliant idea it had seemed at the time.

Utsuho turned a little red. "Eheheh... yeah, I'm looking forward to that... Oh what are you planning on doing, Dirk?" she queried, turning around to face Dirk where he sat.

The dark angel shot her a lewd grin. "More like who," he chuckled.

"Dirk, please," groaned Pit, facepalming.

"But yeah, I'm meeting up with Jo once we get there," clarified the younger angel. "She's been itching to go for ages - wants to challenge all the casinos, I bet." He grinned, knowing that his girlfriend's love of money was one feature he was more than happy to support - especially in a place like Vegas.

 "Huh, didn't expect that out of her..." Utsuho took the time to mull that one over, before brightening up. "Well, hopefully she'll do a good job of it!"

"Don't worry, I'll be behind her all the way."

"Of course you will." Unfazed completely by yet another of Dirk's puns, Pit finished typing in the adress, and then hit the ignition button. At once, the car roared into life, almost as eager to get going as it's occupants were, and the sound seemed to lend some life into the white-winged angel. He gripped the steering wheel with expectant fervour and turned to his riding companions, eyes shining with excitement. "

"Alright," he called out, "we ready for off?"

"Yep!" was Utsuho's response. "I'm ready whenever you guys are!"

"Then off we go!" And with that, Pit pulled the car out of the driveway, swung it around with practiced ease, and then set off with no small amount of tire squeal down the road that lead out of the neighborhood and, eventually, Manhattan.

"Cocaine and booze," crowed Dirk, "here we come!"

"Dirk, please."

Hail to the King (Part 4)

Sam's day had, in a nutshell, gone down the drain.

It had started out okay, really. Christine, as part of the plan to gather more members of the 44, had drawn up a map and told him to basically meander down a path whilst the others split up in search of more help. The reason she'd given was that they would be able to quickly gather forces, supplies and more, whilst Sam, who didn't really know the land at all, would just head to the place where they would all meet up and act as a signpost. Then they would all just head back to where they were needed and get ready to kick the Magpies out.

Sam was fine with that - meandering was something he'd done a lot, back in his home world. Often, he and his troupe would do just that, wandering between villages and looking for problems to solve when the Kingsguard wasn't badgering him to kill the latest maniacal warlord or whatever. And one of the nice things about meandering was that it didn't require life-or-death decisions or unnecessary pain. Nobody tried to randomly attack you

Or so he thought, until the quintet of strangers jumped him when passing by some ruins.

The first thing he knew about it was when a massive slab of concrete came hurtling out of nowhere at him. He didn't even question it at the time, but with the benefit of hindsight, he had to wonder just how it got here - he wasn't even aware there was anyone who knew how to make concrete! Regardless, he let his reflexes do the talking, pulling out the Grandius and swinging before he had time to even think about what exactly he was doing, or how ridiculous it was going to look. Thankfully, the latter never even crossed his mind - if it did, he probably would have been reduced to a jammy paste on the floor.

Long story short, he cut the concrete in half, and let the two halves crash to the ground on either side of him. Standard procedure - he'd done it enough times in his career that he'd got it down pat. Now, all he had to do was to find the guy responsible and lecture him about proper concrete-throwing safety, so he wouldn't have to do it again. Maybe it'd be just some big, dumb brute, like a minotaur or giant, who had been playing stepping stones. Or maybe it'd be some megalomaniac idiot testing his new concrete-throwing weapon - wouldn't be the first time.

So when the man dressed in the Kevlar-paneled bodysuit stepped forward, he was somewhat disappointing.

The man didn't look like much, in all honesty. Close-cropped brown hair, angular face and green eyes presented a rather plain appearance. All that really stood out about him was the way the ground seemed to quiver beneath his feet as he walked, as well as what he was wearing. And once again, hindsight kicked him in the butt as, only a few moments later, would he recognize the insignia of the spread-winged, two-headed crow-like bird upon the chestplate of the outfit. Really, it had not been one of Sam's days for quick thinking.

"Sorry about that," said the stranger as he came into view. "I wasn't really aiming for you."

"Well, I should hope not," Sam retorted as he straightened up. "You don't just throw concrete about like-"

"No," responded the man, patiently. "That was meant to be the signal. But my throwing's not so good, you see."

Quite Contrary, Faceless

It had started like any other day. Daniel was in the living room, enthused by Top Gear reruns on the grounds that there was nothing better to watch that day. Robbie, having completed his homework for the day, was engaging Crusoe in the morning newspaper's Sudoku challenges, although the not-a-cat had more than once complained about how easy the challenges were. And Carol was putting out the garbage - technically it was Daniel's turn, but he'd done it for two weeks and had complained vehemently about it, as was his style.

So here she was, lifting the lid of the bin and wrinkling her nose at the awful smells within. Ugh, there was a whole medley of stuff in here - the takeaway pizza from last night, that lasagne she couldn't finish, bits of fish, the piri piri sauce Daniel had taken one bite of and ran screaming from the room... Someday, they were going to give that bin a proper wash-out. But for now, the technopath concentrated on throwing the bag in and shutting the lid, pushing it down a bit to help it fit properly.

It occurred to her, at that moment, that the bird feeders needed refilling. They'd been brought recently, and Robbie enjoyed looking out of the back window and watching starlings, blackbirds and more gather around them and peck away at the seed within. So instead of heading straight back indoors, Carol turned around and headed down the side path, down to modest back garden that saw the brunt of the spring sun. The feeder hung by a wire on the fence at the other side of the garden, and the redhead had to cross the whole length of the grass so she could reach the feeder and unhook it.

Then she made the mistake of looking over the back fence.

At first, she thought it was just another one of the scraggly trees, lined up in neat rows in the field beyond. But she blinked, and it had moved forward by several meters, and then her brain began to register several things in a mad, cold rush of terror. Firstly, it wasn't even the same moss-dotted brownish-green colour as the other trees trees - only white and black, with a hint of red. Secondly, it was still moving, in a wobbly, foot-dragging and arm-swinging fashion that suggested it was too top-heavy for it's own good.

Third, it was moving right towards her.

Meal Ticket

~SCOOPA KOOPA'S, LAS VEGAS~

Nine in the morning, and Scoopa Koopa's was just opening up. Through windows marred by grease, an observer would notice the lights being turned on in the kitchen area, bathing the rest of the restaurant in sickly yellow light. The chintzy plastic tables had been wiped and polished, the checkerboard floor mopped thoroughly and the counter-tops disinfected with healthy doses of sprays of various brands. Now, the staff were hard at work behind the kitchen, rattling utensils and banging cupboards as they prepared for the day ahead of them, be it slow or busy. The ovens and grills hummed eagerly, the fryer sizzled with anticipation and a fine, toothsome smell of greasy food came wafting from the air vents.

As did the shouting.

"Hurry up with those fries, dino-brain! The customers can't wait forever!"

The staff didn't actually talk much. Being pseudo-dinosaurs of various fantastical species, speech was not really their forte, limited only to demands for orders and cash. They weren't the type to hold conversation around the grill, or complain about their mortgage payments, or anything that the average human working in a diner like this would do - they were more used to working in silence, if anything. So there was only one gruff, growling voice barking insults and orders at them, and that could only come from one source.

"Move it, ya mooks!" bellowed Koopa as he stomped through the kitchen, shooting impatient glares at everyone and everything. He was in a bad mood today, and the reptilian workers around him could sense it - it radiated off him like the stench off a rotten egg, filling the entire room in an atmosphere of ominous anticipation. Knowing their boss' temper all too well, the dinos kept their heads down, hoping that by just doing as told, they'd escape notice and avoid the verbal abuse that came from the massive green turtle monster looming over them. Normally, this worked as Koopa was usually too wrapped up in his own ugly thoughts to pay much attention to what his workers did.

Sadly, on this occasion, it didn't help them.

"I'll need more eggs than that!" growled the former King of Darklands as he rounded a counter. "Get your tails in gear and-" His ranting stopped abruptly as he caught sight of something out of place on the counter-top - a near-empty plastic bottle, the bottom lined with remnants of red gunge. After staring at it for a moment or two, Koopa quickly swiped it up in one massive paw and turned to his work-force, brandishing the bottle furiously as he vented his anger once more.

"BUGS-FOR-BRAINS!" he roared, making each and every dinosaur jump in fright. "Which of you forgot to refill the tomato sauce?!"

For an awful while, nobody said a word. Replying to a bad-tempered Koopa was like driving a glacier through the eye of a needle, and nobody really felt like taking responsibility for this particular mistake. So when somebody finally found their voice, they resorted to the usual trick - lying their ugly reptilian face off.

"It was Marty!" that someone piped up, pointing a trembling claw at the Rex next to him. "He was on condiment duty yesterday!"

"I was not!" protested his companion with an indignant growl. "I was on mopping duty! You were on condiment duty, Zack!"

Koopa rolled his eyes as the two continued to bicker. Whilst lying was, in his opinion, an excellent trait, it was a skill that took refinement and practice over the years. And as far as he was concerned, these dinosaurs were absolute greenhorns at it. It couldn't have been more obvious if you'd painted them purple and stood them on top of the Eiffel Tower. Coupled with his current surly mood, the former tyrant was getting more and more exasperated with his own staff by the minute.

"Y'know what?" he cut in, shutting the both of them up. "I've suddenly realized I don't care. Just refill this stinking thing, or I'll make Special Scoopa Sauce outta the both of ya!" With practiced ease, he pitched the empty ketchup dispenser across the kitchen, and the two dinos nearly fell over themselves trying to catch it, shoving each other back and forth in their efforts to outdo each other. When one of them succeeded in catching the bottle in his claws, he quickly scurried out of the room via the back door, hastily followed by his equally-terrified companion.

Koopa gave an ugly chuckle to watch the two flee, but with a single sigh he was back to his former dour mood. The empty ketchup, he knew, was just another symptom of the restaurant's struggle to stay afloat in the crowded mass of lights and excess that was Las Vegas. There was little space for a small, greasy, overpriced diner like his in a world where half the hotels came with their own bar and restaurant pre-installed, and it seemed that fewer and fewer suckers- er, customers were coming here nowadays. Who wanted to bite into a delicious Egg Scoopa Koopa when they could just order a three-course meal via room service?

I gotta do something, the ill-mannered monarch thought as he surveyed the kitchen. Or this place - and my reputation - is gonna go down the drain!

Drat, he mentally added with a shudder, I just made myself think about those pesky pulmbers again. Ugh...

"Mister Koopa, sir?"

Irritated at having his mental spiel interrupted, Koopa whirled his masive green bulk around. "Whaddya want?" he snapped.

The Rex who'd addressed him flinched, but then recovered himself in short order. "Um... just got today's paper, sir. It's about the Zoofights Corporation - they're moving here within the month."

"...And why the Koop," asked Koopa with a raised eyebrow, "should I care? I've got food to sell, money to make! I ain't got time to muck around with some company that doesn't even know what it's doing anymore!" Something inside him cringed, for reasons he couldn't explain, but he brushed them off as Un-Koopa-like.

"See for yourself, sir!" The Rex quickly held up the paper, already a little crumpled from being carried around so roughly. Quickly snatching it away, Koopa yanked the flimsy pages open, nearly ripping them in the process, and took a good look at the major article within it. And just as he was about to lose interest, because it was going on and on about business ventures and other boring things he didn't care about, a paragraph caught his yellow eye.

"Of course, it is no mere speculation that the famous Kobbers, who's name and presence are just as important a fixture as the King of Beasts name, will be making an appearance this year. This motely legion of assorted extraterrestrials, superhumans, millionaires and more have always been present at ZFC's many industrious outings, and have beaten back many an unusual, over-the-top and convoluted threat time and time again. How will our band of evil-defeating, justice-upholding, ridiculous-loads-of-cash-spending adventuers adapt to the glamor of Vegas? And what additions and departures can we expect from-"

"Um... sir?"

"Huh? What?" Koopa quickly shook the dollar signs from his eyes. "What did you say?"

"Are you alright, sir?" The Rex was now looking rather puzzled. "You seemed to space out for a minute there. And you were drooling," he added resentfuly, pointing to a large puddle that had mysteriously formed on the ground.

"Never mind that!" snapped the former king, putting on his old grouchy persona. "Just clean that mess up!" But as the befuddled staff member waddled away to fetch the bucket and mop,he failed to notice his boss turning towards his own office, cackling and rubbing his hands. It wasn't just dollar signs in his eyes - it was plans and plots as well, hatching like eggs and turning like gears in his head. For a brief moment, Koopa was feeling like his old kingly self again.

"Looks like Scoopa Koopa's" he cackled to himself, "is gonna be Koopin' on up!"

INTRODUCING

Harvey Atkin as the voice of "KING" KOOPA

Shinobiman: Commercial Break

"Stay tuned! Shinobiman will be back after these messages!"

Our story begins with our plucky protagonist, Kaneda "K.K." Kagome, sitting down to dinner at his usual hangout of Burger Bear's! It's his favourite lunch once again - the classic Triple Decker Cheeseburger, complete with fries and an ice-cold shake to quench his thirst. And it is clear that as he bites into his beloved burger, there is no better pleasure in life for our hungry hero than the simple act of eating.

"Mmmh," he appreciately moans, mouth full of food. "These burgers are as Ninja-mazing as ever!"

Just then, a puff of smoke to the side startles our hero, nearly making him drop his meal! It's Sensei, still in his martial arts attire despite the casual setting of the restaurant, and nobody seems to bat an eyelid at his amazing appearance. Maybe ninjas are just a routine thing in Sleepy Bay now.

"Ah, but Grasshopper," intones Sensei, bowing low, "the Shadow Clan knows of a much greater pleasure than your simple snack!"

K.K. can't help but roll his eyes at his mentor's words. "What would that be? A bowl of rice?"

"Of course not!" Sensei seems to simply laugh off the casual racism here, before reaching into his robe and yanking out a wonderous device - like a clamshell, but bedecked in the familiar black-and-red of the legendary Shinobiman's attire! With a strange plastic sheen and a simple, unassuming design, it could easily pass for a legendary weapon of the ninja itself!

"I mean this!" declares the martial arts master. "The Shinobiman Secret Technique Burger Maker! The ancient ninja art of creating delicious burgers with a hidden surprise inside!" As he speaks, images of burgers fly across the screen - burgers cut open to reveal various ingredients inside the burgers, rather than on top as in a normal burger! Oh, and don't forget those action lines and epic, swooshing sound effects right from the show itself!

"Watch," continues Sensei, now suddenly balancing a chef's hat on his head, "as use the ancient arts to turn a boring old burger into a sensational Secret Technique burger!" And in a quick-cut, yet easy to see process, we watch as he completes the outlined steps required to form this fabulous food! He firstly folds the machine one way to form hollow pockets of burger meat, fills them up with various ingredients, and then folds it another way to seal the burger closed, all in a matter of moments! And then, with a flip of the hand and a blast of Shinobi Fire, the wonderous warrior has in front of him a seemingly unassuming burger - but one, we all know, with a difference!

"Try this, Grasshopper!" Sensei offers the finished product to his skeptical student, who immediately grabs it and takes a bite from it. The results are more than conclusive - the burger-loving boy's eyes sparkle in over-the-top anime fashion, and hearts materialise around his head as the food's flavours hit him right where it counts - the tongue!

"Secret bacon and cheddar technique!" cries out K.K. in ecstasy. "That's Shinobi-tastic!"

Just then, a hideous shape bursts through the wall of the restaurant, spraying dust all over the place! Finally, people think to take notice of the unusual occurances, and flee in fear as the bulky form strides into the establishment! To nobody's surprise, it's that dastardly demon Lord Kroak, and his fearsome face shows that he's got evil on his mind, as usual!

"Fun's over, shrimps!" he bellows as he marches to the counter, grabbing the terrified waiter-boy by the lapels in one pudgy paw. "My belly needs burgers, and I need 'em now!"

Of course, if you think our hero is going to remain idle whilst this devious deed occurs, you'd be all wrong and a bag of potato chips! As the terrible toad continues to terrify the serving staff, K.K. has already come up with the perfect plan to sout out the situation! In a blur, he brings his ninja skills to the foray, gathering up a similar selection of ingredients as Sensei had done before him - only this time, he's carrying armfuls of spicy peppers and other piquant products!

"I'll give you burgers, you croaking creep," he mutters. "Secret Ninja Burger Technique!" And with that command, our brave boy replicates the motions his mentor made a few moments ago - fold one way, add flavourings, fold the other way, and then flip and fry. But to add to the illusion, the cunning Kaneda adds the standard burger toppings onto his crafty creation, making look just like any ordinary burger served at this jaunty joint!

K.K. quickly offers the burger to his nefarious nemesis. "Here you go, you big bully." 

"Thanks, chump!" Without so much as a bye-your-leave, Kroak snatches up the tasty trap and tosses it whole into his massive maw. However, all it takes is a few chews for the spicy secret to kick in, and the fiendish frog's eyes bulge as his face turns red from the heat! Steam shrieks from where his ears would logically be, if he had them, and it isn't long before...

"YEEEOOOOUCH!" Flame erupts from Kroak's mouth, the force enough to send the tyrant rocketing upwards into the air! Such is his speed, in fact, that he punches a toad-shaped hole in the ceiling of Burger Bear's, spraying bits of tiling as he rockets ever-upwards! K.K. and Sensei watch with amusement as their adversary sails into the sky and straight out of sight, to trouble them no more for the rest of the day.

"Seems like Kroak," quips K.K. with a grin, "bit off more than he could chew!" And he laughs along with Sensei at the cleverness of this particular pun.

The Shinobiman Secret Technique Burger Maker! Available now, with recipie guide!

"We now return to Shinobiman!"

Secret Ninja Warrior Shinobiman (Part 2)

When we last left our savior in the shadows, Shinobiman, he was hightailing it to the hidden Shinobi Shrine of Honor Ridge - literally, using his Shinobi Racoon power to fly to the shrine! But the Shinobi Scroll hidden there is being guarded by Lord Kroak's loathsome lackeys, Razor and Vampyra, as well as a squadron of demon soldiers! Meanwhile, Sensei and Doctor Wasabi have a plan to delay the awful amphibian and prevent him from twigging that his stolen scroll is under scruitiny...

"I just hope," mutters Doctor Wasabi, "that this crazy plan of yours works." He never was very good at driving a motorcycle to begin with, preferring the comfort of cars, but the knowledge of the scheme his companion is about to carry out makes steering all the more difficult.

"My crazy plans always work!" responds a cheerful Sensei from the sidecar. "All we have to do is find Kroakzilla and lead him away from the populated areas of the city!"

"Well, how hard can that be?" asks Wasabi. "He's over thirty stories tall, after all!"

The good doctor soon regrets his earlier question, as an awful growling noise - like a tractor and a lion having a spirited scuffle - cuts through the air. The frightened physician nearly stalls the cycle in his terror, but Sensei merely puts one hand to his ear, trying to divine the direction the sound is coming from. And, with his attuned skills, it doesn't take long for him to pinpoint the location of their target.

"That was him, alright," he confirms. "And he's in the restaurant district. Turn off here."

Wasabi does so, although with great reluctance.

And, true to his word, Kroakzilla is not that hard to hide. In fact, he is making no effort to be sneaky at all - instead, he has parked his bulbous bulk in the middle of a parking lot, helping himself to the contents of the various eating establishments he has plundered. As the dynamic duo pull up by one of his feet, the titanic toad finishes gulping down the innards of a pizza parlour's kitchen, before taking a long sip from a water tower he tore up earlier.

"Boy," he mutters with his mouth full. "Destroying a city really works up an appetite. I should have brought some of mom's home-made mud pies!"

"Well," whispers Wasabi to his much braver buddy, "We found Kroakzilla. What now?"

By way of answer, Sensei suddenly produces a megaphone from seemingly nowhere and holds it up to his mouth. Wasabi quickly gestures for him to put it away, but the martial-arts master ignores him and flicks it on. The whining noise of the device turning on was loud enough, but when Sensei shouts up at the monstrous marauder above them, the good doctor soon starts wishing he could remember the secret ninja ability to become invisible!

"Hey, Kroakzilla!" hollers Sensei from the sidecar. "Down here, you green-skinned good-for-nothing!" This gets the terrible tyrant's attention, his head swiveling down to notice the motorcycle and it's occupants a few meters from his feet.

"Well, well, well!" he growls, grinning. "If it isn't that sake-drinking sap and his scientist buddy!"

Sensei rises up from his seat in the sidecar, turning up the megaphone's volume for extra effect. "Leave this city right now," he orders, "or I shall be forced to take extreme measures!"

The effect is electric - Kroakzilla leaps to his feet as though stung, rage on his foul face! The tremors of his landing shake the street beneath the bike, nearly making poor Wasabi fall off his perch, but the good doctor's problems are still coming - and Sensei's are only just beginning!

"I don't take insults from pests like you!" bellows the beast, and he immediately raises one foot to squash the heroes! Thinking quickly, Wasabi immediately hits the gas, and he bike goes speeding away down the road, away from the vile villain's stomp! Growling in anger, Kroakzilla immediately gives chase, titanic treads shaking the earth with every step, and the scared scientist has to weave back and forth to avoid getting trodden underfoot by the rampaging toad demon!

"Now what?!" howls Wasabi, clearly wishing he was back home.

"To the abandoned skyscraper district!" shouts Sensei. "And step on it!"

-------

Secret Ninja Warrior Shinobiman (Part 1)

(NOTE: The following is technically a cutting room floor, for a character that I created to appear in the Las Vegas setting of Zoofights RP. The character and his plotline was abandoned after I realized it was too similar to Harpy's character of Kevin/Dream Girl Kogasa. A similar character, an escape artist superhero named Johnny Gyro, was also created, but abandoned in a similar fashion for not being interesting enough.

The point is, the characters depicted in this post will not appear in Zoofights RP in any fashion this year. They may make an appearance in 2016 RP, but this is extremely dependent on my life-based circumstances not turning out rubbish. And now having probably depressed you, enjoy the post to cheer you up!)

Kaneda "K.K." Kagome has a special secret. He may be an ordinary schoolboy in the city of Sleepy Bay, but he is also the inheritor of the powers of the secret Shadow Clan of ninjas! An ancient ninja prophecy foretells that, when the evil Lord Kroak and his demon armies break out of the underworld, a hero will rise to gather the sacred Shinobi Scrolls and transform into the warrior of legend! And while K.K. may be headstrong, clumsy and constantly hungry for triple-decker cheeseburgers, he is the hero of legend - our only hope against the forces of darkness! He is...

THE SECRET NINJA WARRIOR: SHINOBIMAN!

Today's Episode: "Shinobiman Meets Kroakzilla!"

Sensei has received a letter from an old friend of his - an accomplished scientist named Doctor Wasabi from Honor Ridge city. Wasabi believes he has found another of the ancient Shinobi Scrolls, and requests that Sensei and Shinobiman retrieve it before Lord Kroak's forces can get it for themselves. K.K. soon finds himself being dragged to Honor Ridge city by his mentor, but neither are prepared for the kind of terrible tricks their enemy has in store for them...

Saint Patrick's Dirk (Belated)

"Dirk?"

Dirk made a noise like a hippo imitating a V10 engine, but didn't move.

"Dirk," groaned Pit, "wake up already."

"Just let me stick to what I'm good at, yeah?" grumbled the dark angel, and rolled over

"Would it help if I kicked you?" Pit was starting to get irritated as well.

"Would it give you any satisfaction?" was Dirk's reply, shifting position a little.

"No."

"Me neither, so bugger off. Why is this bed so hard?"

"Because," said Pit, with the tone a primary school teacher uses to address a particularly stupid child, "it is not your bed. It is the hood of a Lamborghini which has been crashed through-"

Dirk was bolt upright in an instant, ignoring the telltale throb of a hangover as he looked around. What he thought was his bedroom turned out to be the dining room, which had undergone a startling transformation since he had last seen it - a lot of green paper shamrocks were pinned to the roofs, and one wall featured a poster of a leprechaun bearing the most tortured cereal-mascot smile possible. The counter surface was littered in empty bottles and glasses of varying descriptions, and an unidentifiable liquid substance was splattered on the floor - probably a spit drink of some kind.

What was more startling, he discovered when he turned his head, was the massive hole in the wall. And the Lamborghini Reventón stuck halfway through it, the hood of which he was currently sitting on. Somehow, despite the forces required for a car like this to break through a solid brick wall, it didn't have a single scratch on it, looking as though it had walked freshly from the factory.

There was a long pause whilst Dirk tried to correlate all this information.

"...and when did this get here?" he tried, at last.

"How the heck should I know?!" cried Pit, throwing up his hands in frustration. "You're the one who crashed it into our house!"

"Let's not shout, okay?" hissed Dirk, bringing up a hand to his forehead. Here came the hangover - and it wasn't a pretty one, lancing through his brain like a javelin made of sandpaper and hedgehogs. With an effort, he pushed himself upright, slid off the hood of the Lambo and staggered around to investigate it. Might as well do something productive, if only to ignore the massive amounts of ranting from Pit he could foresee.

"Looks new," he muttered under his breath as he inspected it. "Hardly done a few miles, I should think."

"Do you have any idea," Pit was beginning to say, "of how much this is gonna cost us. Wes Weasley will be laughing all the way back home - if we can even get him to do something about this!" Dirk pointedly ignored him and peered through the window of the car, taking in the blurry images of black leather, brown Alcantara and several crates of-

"Holy shit," he cried despite the resurgence in head pain. "It's full of beer!"

"Not to mention," Pit went on, "that somebody obviously owns that car, and we're going to have to do a hell of a lot of explaining when we give it back to them!"

"None of it's even open!" Dirk added, still ignoring him as he wrenched the door open and bent over to inspect the goods.

"And how are we-?" Pit suddenly trailed to a stop, and for a moment there was silence. And then the audible smacking noise made Dirk turn his head around, finding his brother with one hand over his mouth and shoulder shaking in a fit of hysterical laughter. His eyes seemed to be aimed downwards, for some reason...

"What?" was the dark angel's confused question.

By way of reply, because he was still giggling fit to burst, Pit suddenly whipped out the Mirror Shield and held it up.

And right there, emblazoned across the seat of the shamrock-green Speedos that were the only piece of clothing Dirk had on, were the words "KISS ME, I'M IRISH".

-------

Some say you could hear Dirk's scream of horror from five miles away.

Hail to the King (Part 3)

~PORT BLACKSAND~

Sam had never seen Star Wars before. The only reason he knew it existed was because the people he associated with often referenced it, usually in a dumb in-jokey way that he wasn't really parlay to. So therefore, he only knew about Mos Eisley being a thing because he had heard that one quote over and over, and had no real idea of what it looked like.

Port Blacksand, he reckoned, was close.

"There's a joke about scum and villainy somewhere," he muttered as he strolled down the grime-ridden streets. He wouldn't have been far-off in making that joke - the general look of the town, even from a distance, was a shifty, side-eyed one that kept an eye out for the cops as it filched someone's wallet, and up close it was no better. Gruff-voiced men and rasp-voiced women hollered out their wares from side corners and crannies, half the populace seemed to stare at the floor or cover their faces as they walked and the smell of damp and poorly-cooked food hang like a foul perfume over the place. The only mercy Sam could find was that nobody seemed inclined to look at him, and when they did they usually gave him a wide berth.

It might have had something to do with Walter trotting by his side, though. It would seem that having a Leowolf - that is, a canine now the size of a lion - next to you was a good way to carve out a decent personal space. A good metre or so of thin air around Sam had gone practically unmolested, and the former Destined Hero had the impression that this was more to do with the wolf than anything about himself. Mind you, brightly-coloured clothing was something of a target for stares in a place like this.

It hadn't felt like long before a nose pushed itself into his leg, and Walter gave a whining bark to indicate that Sam should look at something. He did, and found that they were now approaching a tavern, which looked so ashamed of it's shabby appearance it seemed to by trying to hide itself between all the other buildings on the street. A forlorn, knife-hacked and torch-burned sign swung above the door, and the blond-haired swordsman couldn't help but snort at the faded name etched into the wood "NOBODY INN". At least the place had a sense of humour.

"You thirsty, big guy?" he asked Walter, knowing his guess was not far off.

The wolf replied with a short yap and a mad wagging of the tail.

"Alright," chuckled Sam as he tousled the wolf's furry head. "We'll stop for a drink, and then maybe ask for directions."

The two promptly changed course, and their first obstacle came in the form of a man built like a diseased gorilla, who stepped between them and the comforting warmth of the tavern on the instant they crossed the threshold. His mere appearance turned nearly every head in the bar - it seemed people were accustomed to the routine scuffles that their bouncer got into.

"Fuck off," were his first words, growled out like an industrial meat grinder.

Sam groaned, already familiar with this kind of scenario. "Look," he tried, "I'm not here to cause trouble. I just want-"

"Fuck off, I said," repeated the bouncer, stepping forward. "We don't serve your lot here, with your poncy outfits and too many belts. And take your mutt with you, or else I'll-"

Sam didn't even have to say anything. If there was one thing he knew Walter hated more than anything, it was being called a mutt, mongrel or any sort of pejorative relating to his breeding. A blur of silver-grey shot up from his left, there was a thump and the bouncer collapsed to the floor, half-dazed and clutching his own forehead. And then, in case that wasn't hilarious enough, the Leowolf casually trotted over to the prone juggernaut and sat on him as though he were a cushion from his bed back home.

This set every table in the tavern at a roar at once. It must have been the funniest thing they'd seen all week.

"Thank you, thank you!" Sam laughed back and waved as he stepped into the building. "He does headstands, too!" Which probably wasn't true, but he could smell that half of them were already pissed out of their minds, so anything would prolong the hilarity. And as they lapped it up like monkeys at feeding time, he took the time to check the medallion from Victoria, just in case it had any clues as to-

Huh. It was blinking rather brightly. That meant somebody from the Forty-Four, that group of heroes Sam had needed to seek out to try and deal with the Magpies, was in this very building. But where...?

Sam looked up.