Monster Mash: Round 2 Fight 1 - Giant Octopus vs. Mega Python

Boys and girls, ladies and other- Okay, fine we'll get to the point. It's The Monster Mash 199X, everybody.

So we procrastinated. Sue us. But really, it was the Japanese's fault. They said they'd have Daidako ready by the week, but then a whole two months passed by and fuck all happened. So yeah, blame those procrastinating fucks. Can't trust them to do anything. Also, blame those superstitious Indians for not letting their god-emperor out of his holy temple on time - they had to wait for all these wierd mystical signs and have the planets be all perfectly aligned before they even thought of sending out their massive snake to do remotely anything. Wackos.

So yeah, here it is. The one you've all been waiting for. The one we've had to bribe and threaten and even *gulp* coerce people into staging on the shores of Ibiza, by the newly created Vishnu power plant, for the sake of your entertainment. The one we call...

Connor Hardy here, and right now I'm circling above the New Tethys Ocean, hoping to get a glimpse of- JESUS CHRIST, THAT WAS A TENTACLE!

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Yeah, we kind of arrived in the middle of something, didn't we? Barely have the cameras been trained onto the potential battlefield than the water explodes in a churning, frothing mass of pain and rage - it seems either the contenders have been released slightly early from their confinement or we arrived slightly late. In any case, Raja and Daidako have wasted no time in lunging at each other the moment they entered the ring, and the spectator boats forming a circle around the water are being tossed this way and that by the furious wakes both contendors create in their struggle to kill each other. The spectators don't seem to care that much, however, hopped up on tequila and coconut milk and whooping with every lurch their conveyances take.

As of now, it seems Daidako has the advantage over his ophidavian opponent. Despite being part anaconda, Raja is still mostly a land animal, and these strange, salty waters without any ground to keep anchored on have proven detrimental to his swimming ability. The much swifter, evolved Kraken has taken advantage of this, ambushing him from the side and winding several tentacles about his upper section and trying to pull him in closer to bite through to his spine and cripple him. But as anyone who's tried to hold a bar of soap in the bathtub will know, it's not an easy task - his suckers can't grip easily on the smooth scales, and the python is thrashing around like a devish, trying to throw his oppressor off of him. It's a battle of attrition - who will tire of this struggle first?

As it turns out, neither. The sacred serpent, his lungs burning from lack of air, knows full well what will happen if he keeps up this pointless struggle, and he's also realised the multi-tentacled menace has forgotten about the rest of his tail. With a muffled growl of effort, spraying bubbles from his mouth, Mega Python manages to twist the good remainded of his tail around in the water, winding several loops of his 69-foot-long body around the Kraken's cranium and tail and squeezing down. Startled, Japan's mascot monster boggles his eyes at the crushing grip, and several of his tentacles inadvertently release their captive in a spasmodic reflex.

Feeling his adversary release his hold on him, Raja whips his head around in the deadly return-stroke, but not to bite. Not just yet, anyway - he first takes the opportunity to clear the surface of the water, gasping in fresh oxygen as the startled squid flails in his grasp, failing to bring it's advanced mental faculties into play to regain control. Only once it's lungs are full of air does the serpent dive again, this time sinking his teeth into the puply flesh of his Japanese enemy. He doesn't even know where the windpipe of his captive is, let alone if it has one, but he's not about to relinquish any sort of hold that he has on his foe.

Daidako's eyes roll madly in their sockets as pain racks through it's body. The hybrid horror's brain is frantically racking itself for a solution to this conundrum - an opponent that's pretty much everywhere at once, causing pain from every direction. His tentacles alone won't be able to reach it, the grip is too strong to be dislodged by ramming into corals and capsising the ships around him is not an option. The Kraken's arms flail about like ribbons in the wind, slapping at the sea floor in a desperate attempt to find something to get the tenacious Mega Python off of him.

Then a tentacle grips something that isn't corals. It's covered in slimy weed, but it's made of wood, and juts out of the seabed at an awkward angle. A memory flashes through the cephalopod's genetically-bolstered braincells - accounts of old longships, passing through the straits of Gibraltr, capsising due to unknown and presumably extraordinary circumstances. In desperation, Japan's finest fisherman tightens his grip on the mystery object and yanks as hard as he can.

His hearing muffled by the water, Raja doesn't even register the rotted hulk of a sunken Viking warship arcing towards him until it's too late. There is an almighty thump as at least a tonne of rotten wood and overgrown corals impacts with the back of his skull. Dust and debris go flying, clouding his already-starry vision with a smokescreen, and as the ship splinters apart the jagged edges piece and rip at his skin, opening fresh cuts. Jarred by the vicious blow, the provoked python reflexively releases his grip on Daidako, floating in the water with jaw hanging open.

Silently, but clearly relieved that his gambit has worked, Daidako carefully eases himself out of the looping coils and jettisons himself a little distance away from India's god-emperor to appraise the situation. The stunned Mega Python is suspened in the briny waters of the Mediterranean, completely limp and immobile - obviously unconcious and completely unaware of his situation. In this state, it would be completely trivial to finish him off, which is why the mighty mollusc isn't going to be taking any chances on this. Brandishing the remains of the ship like a drunk brandishes a broken bottle, the Kraken moves in for the kill.

And that's when Raja strikes. There is a blur of golden scales, and then pain racks Daidako's mind once again as teeth clamp into his armed appendage with vice-like force. Then a twist, a jerk and a ripping of flesh, and now the arm is singing to the bottom of the ocean, trailing blood as it spasmodically twitches and jerks, still clinging onto the broken boat. A flash of cold, cunning eye in the water tells all - the sacred serpent was only shamming, and now is ready to take advantage of the squid's shock and dish out an even bigger counterattack. With lightning speed barely hampered by the water, the hallowed horror twists and flexes in the water, his entire body lashing out like a whip and slamming the still-reeling Kraken through the water.

Only by a supreme effort does Japan's Finest stall himself in the water, preventing himself from smashing into the sharp corals below, but now he has to contend with a massive snake zooming towards him like a battering ram. With one arm missing and bleeding profusely, Daidako realise he's in no condition to take a head-on assault anymore, and needs to change up his tactics. With that thought in mind, the demon of the deep opens his beak wide, belching out a thick cloud of oily ink as he simultaneously jettisons away from his pursuer. The ruse works - Raja screeches to a halt, blinded by the ink and thrashing about to try and clear his murky vision.

By the time the ink has dissapated, Kraken is a very long way away, and the God of India just manages to catch a glimpse of his tentacles vanishing down a long tunnel, just in the distance. With a muffled hiss of anger, the Mega Python gives chase, sinuous body weaving through the brine of the Mediterranean as he pursues his adversary. Eager to retalliate further for the mollusc's blasphemous desecration of his holy form, he slides down the tunnel after his opponent, vanishing from the view of the underwater cameras placed by Gaiacorp around the arena for this purpose.
 

What neither Daidako knows nor Raja cares is that the tunnel is not a natural construct. It is the waste outlet pipe for a massive hydroelectric power plant, dedicated to providing energy to the entire west coast of Italy as the war takes it's toll on imports of oil from the British-owned North Sea Territories. On the side, it also gives life to the production of the terrible war machines that rampage across all of Eastern Europe. Raja himself was present at the ribbon-cutting ceremony, although right now he could care less about that detail. And as the crowd on their ships turn to their television sets, the security cameras within the facility flicker on, beaming their signals to every vessel on the waters.

The fight is going indoors.

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It isn't long before Daidako realises he's lost.

Going into the tunnel seemed like a smart idea at the time. After all, it's an octopus' natual reaction to slip through small spaces when pursued by a predator. But the cave that the tunnel has opened up into... feels wrong. It's too big, and there are so many twisting, featureless channels that taper this way and that, it's near-impossible to tell if he's somewhere new or just going in circles. He can hear the hum and clank of machinery above him, vaguely aware that each metallic report is the work of something man-made, and the confusing mass of noise is upsetting his sense of direction even further. Now he's trapped in a big, circular pool overhung with walkways - part of the water-based cooling system used to keep the production machines running optimally.

The mammoth mollusc, in desperation, tries running his tentacles along the walls, looking to memorize bumps and imperfections in the smooth metal. But the scouring action of the water and the chemicals within it have eroded the walls into near-perfect flatness, and the Kraken soon realises that no potential landmarks exist with which to map his way around the facility. With all the identical channels stretching away into the distance, it doesn't take a genius to figure out that this is a perfect place for an ambush, and Daidako shudders imperceptibly as he turns, looking to head off to somewhere that isn't here.

And meets Raja coming the other way.

The Mega Python knows the facility like the back of his tail, having examined the blueprints thoroughly before attending the ribbon-cutting ceremony. In the end, tracking and cornering the giant squid through the water treatment canals was a piece of cake, and the ophidavian ogilarch's patience is rewarded with another ripped off limb. Blood pours into the water from the stump once again, and Daidako writhes in agony as he is divested of yet another major limb, cursing mentally at being caught off-guard a second time. Another smack of the tail sends him jettisoning out of the water and into a lare support column, shattering it in an explosion of ceramic and steel. A jagged edge tears a gill flap as the stunned octopus flops back into the water with a mighty splash, dazed and bewildered.

But Raja is not yet finished with his attack - he is quick to capitalise on his foe's shock again. Rather than simply trying to constrict his enemy, the supersized snake wheels around in the water, dropping the severed tentacle from his mouth as he goes, and latches onto the octopoid's side. His fangs manage to close over one of the Kraken's gill apetures, puncturing the delicate flesh and shutting off the vital breathing tube from the water that the transgenic terror needs to breathe. At the same time, a loop of coil sweeps through the water and slings itself around Daidako's head, squeezing down upon-

aaaaaaagh

With his brain being compressed like air in a deoderant can and unable to breathe, Daidako goes a little bit mental. Instantly, his siphon is jettisoning water like a frat boy jettisons his stomach contents after a weekend bender, causing him to rocket around the water treatment pool and bounce off the walls like a fleshy pinball in a very creepy arcade. Steel bends and buckles from the assault, and delicate systems hidden behind the panels are flattened and wrecked by the squid's weight, setting off alarms across the facility. But the tenacious python doesn't let go, continuing to dig his fangs in deeper instead.

Eyes rolling, tentacles flailing, rapidly running out of breath because brething just through one nostril is a bad idea, the Kraken knows that things are pretty grim for him. If he can't shake off Raja soon, then he's going to suffocate or bleed out into the water, and the Indians will be sailing towards the Monster Mash championship. His vision, blurring with pain and fear, is briefly filled with visions of dissapointed men in white coats, with chefs eagerly sharpening their knives, of children sobbing into their shirts as their mascot fails to uphold their dreams and expectations. Panic sets in briefly as the mammoth mascot desperately tries to think of what to do.
 

Then his lower tentacles brush against something cold and smooth.

Neurons and synapes planted deep within his brain, a brain that pulses with cold and rutheless intelligence, fire into action.

The next thing Raja knows, he's smacking head-first into a wall, splintering the metal, before being dragged upwards by a powerful, iron-clad grip. His form breaks the surface, but it's barely any relief to his lungs, because now the world is spinning around him as if he's stuck in an oversized tumble-dryer, cold air whistling past his ear canals. Daidako may have lost his two major limbs, but his genius mind has reminded him that he has at least eight more, and it's two of these that have clutched hold of the Mega Python's tail, swinging him around the room like a hammer at the Scottish Olympics (before they disbanded several years ago) and crashing him into walls, smashing him through catwalks...

...and into the broken pillar from earlier.

For the first time since we've seen him, Daidako makes a noise - a horrific screech of triumph, wheezing out of his torn and bitten gill apetures, that echoes around the empty facility. Dropping the brusied carcass of the once-mighty Raja into the sea, the Kraken turns and begins the long swim back to his native Osaka waters, unaware and uncaring of the reactions his victory has caused. As the Japanese bay with glee for their champion's success and the Indians mourn the death of their once glorious god, the headless corpse of the Mega Python slowly sinks to the bottom of the flooded factory, trailing blood  as it does so.

No sooner has it touched the metallic floor of the water treatment than the first hagfish, lurking in the recesses of the water filtration system, slither from the gloom.

THE KRAKEN WINS!

And there you have it, folks! The Japanese are heading straight into the Semi-Finals of the Monster Mash, and with a victory they've rightly earned! But the fun and excitement isn't over yet, sports fans, for next up comes a battle that's sure to match this one in proportion and ferocity! With an entire country's worth of smuggled diamonds on the line, it all comes down to a battle between military might and steroid-enhanced strength in THE ENCOUNTER IN THE EVERGLADES! Coming soon to The Monster Mash 199X!

Oh, and don't forget to collect your winnings from your local betting booths! You'll need them for your Black Friday rush!
 

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And now for something completely different.
 

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The navigator was very nervous indeed.

This was something of a problem, for two reasons. Firstly, he was supposed to be guiding the spaceship on it's present course, and in this profession being nervous was likely to result in catastrophe. Secondly, he was a Vulturite, a native of Nibiru and species famed for brutality, depravity and various other unpleasant traits. They weren't supposed to be nervous, or even afraid of anything that the universe could throw at them - not even such wonderful threats as the Daleks or the Martians would make them bat an eyelid. Anything a race could do, a Vulturite would do better and then brag about it to his next door neighbour.

And yet this one was trembling in his seat, bile in his throat as his eyes darted back and forth across the screen, trying to focus on the information readouts and so on. His fingers twitched as he tapped away at on-screen buttons and dials, and a fine layer of sweat stood out on his feathered forehead. A sense of ominous dread was sitting in his chest like a block of ice, one that kep growing with every passing minute - most likely to do with the nature of the mission that he was undertaking, as well as the current destination he was guiding the ship towards. Whilst he was not a person to speak his mind, a quality that was probably instrumental in getting the job in the first place, he was more than ready to admit by now that he was ready to soil himself, had he not already done so twice.

For what seemed like the thousandth time that trip, he glanced over his wiry shoulder to observe the arrangement behind him. Most of the ship's command bridge was in shadow, as it's occupant was quite particular about light levels, so he could barely make out the outline of the throne and the person sitting in it. What little he could see, however, made him shudder - a large, heaped mass of something that lay about the footwell of the seat, catching what little light there was in periodic glints and sparkles and occasionally shifted with a dry rustling noise. Swallowing audibly, the Vulturite turned back to the screen, trying hard to look as though he hadn't lost track of his work and was just minding his own business.

Unfortunately, he tried too hard.

"What a beatifiul planet," came a silken purr, and the navigator's down feathers stood on end. "So much more colourful than home."

Too late did the Vulturite hear the scraping of scale on metal, and then something cold, dry and strong looped twice around his body and yanked him from his seat too fast for him to even cry out. Flailing madly for a moment in his panic, the navigator found himself drawn into the shadows towards the throne, then swung around to face the great window that made up an entire wall of the room and yawned outwards into space. His thin, dry eyes blinked once as he took in the view presented before him - a great orb of blue and green, frosted with swirls of white clouds and slowly growing larger within the window frame, filling the room with a dull glow.

Then he tensed as a claw, thin as a razor, drew itself along the side of his face. There was breath in his ear, and he winced at the icy chill of it.

"Tell me, navigator," came the voice. "What do they call this planet? Ee-yarth?" The syllables of the last word came thickly, as if they were too big for the mouth forming them, but that tiny detail did noting to reassure the navigator, who was now aware that everyone else in the room was watching him. Most likely they were as frightened as he was. Some colleagues.

The Vulturite gulped. "I... I believe it's pronounced 'Earth', your grace," he croaked, well aware of how dry the inside of his beak was.

A frustrated huff blew bast his ear. "Really? But it has an 'A' in it. Oh, well," hissed the speaker, shifting in her seat a little, "I shall just keep on calling it Ee-yarth anyway. Shan't I?"

"Y-y-yes, your grace." The navigator realised he was nodding furiously out of reflex, and managed to stop himself.

"And how much longer until we breach the atmosphere?" The claw had stopped at his neck. Not good...

"In ab-b-bout eleven Rels, your grace."

"Perfect."

And then there was a twist and a jerk, and the world span crazily for a brief moment before the unfortunate hand-for-hire impacted beak-first with his own console screen, squawking in pain as his body crumpled and slumped to the ground. Through vision blurred by his latest concussion, he espied a blue glint sliding back into the shadows, and reflexively scrabbled out of the prone position, head swimming with terror and possible brain damage as he returned to his station. Hunching over his screen, he heard a giggle from the corner of his ear, and grimaced.

"My dear," came the voice, low and dangerous. "Your unfortunate death shall soon be avenged. This Ee-yarth is soon about to have a new name..."

A scrape of claws on metal. A glint of fangs.

"Open buffet."

DIRKMAS 2013

COMING SOON...

Monster Mash Round 2: Votes

 

Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls, Fans and Haters, THE MONSTER MASH 199X IS BACK!

And this time, we've got something special planned for you all! Instead of waiting for every blood-soaked brawl to come to it's conclusion before setting up the next round of votes, our crack-team of market researches has suggested a SEMI-FINAL SPECIAL to get the crowds hyped! For a limited time only, viewers can now vote on all three of these epic fights coming to your screens very soon, decreasing the downtime between setting up battles! And if you vote right now, you'll get a discount on all GaiaCorp brand products and services, wherever online or at our lisenced merchandising booths! So what are you waiting for - grab your voting slips, size up our surviving competitors and give us your money!

Fight 1: Giant Octopus vs. Mega Python - The Tussle in the Tethys
Daidako hasn't been seen on duty since his battle with Centurion several months ago. His place in the fishing fleets appears to have been taken by a horde of smaller octopi - cheaper to produce but nowhere near the skill level shown by Sakana Co.'s finest creation. Then a business trip revealed something quite nasty; not satisfied with the our original blueprint, the Japanese government went ahead and performed their own gene-splicing, adding DNA samples from what they believe is a frozen sample of the legendary Kraken into the already-confused chemical soup of their mascot's genetics. They've promised the resulting combination, given time to grow and mature, will bring greater brainpower and tactical genius into the field. We merely retreated to our bunkers with bottles of water and baked beans.

Raja's been living even more like a king since his victory over Tiburon in his debut battle. Actually, he's been elveated to the title of God-Emperor ever since the previous one passed away of a sudden and completely coincidental heart attack, we swear. And while one would think a giant snake would not make a very good political figure, Mega Python has been astounding us with his sudden powers of psychic insight and skills at debating. He's already tackled issues on healthcare, crime and homelessness with startling finess, and political enemies are a non-issue - someone has to be sacrificed whenever he cuts a ribbon, after all. The holy order that tends to his every whims claims he has absolutely no worries about the upcoming competition, but considering we haven't actually seen him training, we're taking that with some salt.

Fight 3: Sharktopus vs. Gatoroid - The Encounter in the Everglades
Since his victory in Malibu, Clades has been promoted to the rank of Praefectus Castrorum, which basically translates to "cushy barracks and fancy food". As a precaution against the ever-increasing strength of enemy military forces and as a means to get an edge over the conbatants, the Greco-Roman Senate has ordered that Sharktopus be equipped and trained in the latest military weaponry. The orders to prepare for Round 2 came at a crucial stage in the training, and it's feared their champion may not have come to grips with his weaponry in time - all he's carrying right now is the standard infantry weaponry of a laser sabre, an explosive javellin, a dagger and a shield with a concealed machine gun. But there's a whole country's worth of swamp diamonds on the line, so of course they're staying in the competition despite the risks.

Gatoroid, meanwhile, has been undergoing a strict exercise regime on orders from the higher-ups at Mann Co. Every morning he gets up to have a wrestle with his owner Saxton Hale, adding yet another bruise or scar to his proud collection of wounds. Every afternoon is spent undergoing a tough regimen of push-ups, track running and pulling loaded freight barges with naught but his front teeth. And every night, he is treated to an entire warehouse's worth of raw, bloody meat mixed with performance-enhancing drugs and mild hallucinogens to increase his agression. Mr. Hale himself has made the bet that if his pet loses the semi-finals he will give everyone who voted for the shark a free hat. And we love free hats, right?

Fight 4: Mothman vs. Mansquito - The Brawl in Beijing
Samuel Escardo, formerly known as Mansquito, has been sighted in various territories since his destruction of Dinocroc. While reports are sketchy at best, it would seem that he has been heading in an easterly direction over the course of several months, heading towards the Communist China territories via wing, foot and train. Trajectory calculations made by our geographists and communications officers made a wild stab at his intended destination - the mountain ranges of Tibet, now host only to the various religious orders that have fled to escape persecution from the cruel hand of the new dictator to step into the throne. Someone suggested perhaps he's looking for enlightenment to his purpose by paying a vist to the monks and spending some time meditating, and then we punched him in the throat for being a twat. But we can't help but wonder...

Mothman? Don't fucking ask us. The less we see of that thing, the better. We've been getting scattered reports of it turning up at various conflicts - the War of Independance in Vietnam, the Red Sqaure Riots in Russia after the victory of Private Spinneret, the Boston Birthday Bash... but fuck that. It's all rumours and speculation and internet conspiracy theorists whining about aliens and shit. As far as we care, it's gone, vanished, crawled back into the slimy pit that was it's-

 

ŞtŲpId̴ ̡AnI͠m҉Al̷S̛.̛ ̶i'M͟ ͡cL͠oSeR ̕tHaN̛ ̨yOu͟ T̀hIn̷K̵.҉

 

KeEp T͡hO͏s̷E ̡eY͜e̢S̨ o͜P͡e͟N̕.͏ I͏ ҉w͝I̸l̛L bE ͢i҉N ̧y̕Ou͝R̢ d͠R͡e̷A͞mS͘ tOn̢I͠gH͡t̢...͟

͢
I aM ̡yO̡uR ͡nIg͏HtMaRe.́
̴
I ҉a͢M̢ ҉C̷òsm̧a̵r.

-which is how I almost died the fifteenth time!

 

VOTE NOW!

Monster Mash - Round 1 Fight 2: Mega Python vs. Mega Shark

Hello, sports fans, and welcome back to The Monster Mash 199X! I'm still Connor Hardy, and I'm reporting live from the sunny beaches of civil-war-wracked Malibu, where GaiaCorp and it's subsidaries are clearing the way for the next round of this clash of colossal creatures. And by "clearing the way", I mean "not telling anyone at all". So expect lots and lots of squished passers-by and demolished homes in...

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It's another scorching hot day on the shores of Malibu. And once again, despite the horrific civil war taking place in the centre of the county, a mere few hundred miles or so from this beach, the tourists still come in droves to sample some of that genuine Sun, Sea and Sand that has become the nation's beloved cash cow. The beach is swarming with people of many different races, genders and beliefs, their mere presence transforming the once ivory-white sands into a multicoloured patchwork blanket. Some sunbathe on gaudy towels, others paddle or splash or race each other in the tropical breakers in the spirit of holidaymakers looking for a good ol' time everywhere.

Nobody is aware of the impending destruction surging up from the depths towards them.

Or, indeed, to the monstrosity curled up in the trees behind them.

"Raja perkasa yang membersihkan tanah kami orang-orang berdosa dan kekerasan, menerima penawaran ilahi kami kepadamu!"

Raja the Mega Python is having the time of his life. It's a blisteringly hot day at over 97 degrees Farenheit, the sand beneath him is insultingly soft and a large team of altar boys dressed in purple are clambering all over his coils like an ant colony fashion disaster, scrubbing his scales and the bits in between with car sponges and holy water. It's like an all-over tongue bath without the expense or awkwardness. The supersized serpent's eyes stare vacantly into space, and his subway train of a body heaves gently with respiration - the God of the Indian Vatican is dozing, content with his lot in life and the comforts that come with it.

The scent of spices hit his nostrils, and the collosal constrictor swivels his eyes round to focus on the source - an entire elephant, spit roasted a golden-brown, is being pushed in front of him on a golden platter by a team of priests in ceremonial robes. The head priest in his funny ice cream cone hat chants in his native language as the meal comes within range, but Raja couldn't care less about him at the moment. As idly as one takes a mint from the counter of a restaurant whose nationality should be pretty obvious from the metaphor, the snake picks up the savoury treat in his jaws before throwing his head back, tossing the food to the back of his throat before swallowing it whole. The priests strike up a psalm in gratitude as, with a satisfied rumble, the Mega Python lowers his head back to the sand, intent on finishing his nap.

It isn't long, however, before his jaws pick up the vibrations of unfamiliar movement.

Glassy eyes swivelling round once again, the oversized ophidavian lifts his ponderous skull to focus on the scenery in front of him. His eyesight is far keener than that of his contemporary cousins, but the harsh glare of the sunlight means that, for a while, he has trouble making out exactly what's wrong with the sparkling sands and crystal waters ahead of him. But as his eyes adjust, he sees that the water is foaming in an odd way, and that the human tourists once lounging around are stampeding up the beach and away from the water, screaming in abject terror. Many trip over the sand and are trampled in the rush, and almost all abandon their towels, lunches and parasols in their haste to escape. It's a multicoloured tidal wave of panic.

Raja flicks out his tongue, trying to sense the force behind this panic. His priests have stopped chanting and are turned towards the beach, faces drawn. The altar boys are all frozen mid-scrub, and hunker down upon their deity's massive body, eyes wide with fear. For a moment, nothing rears it's head to confront the Ophidavian Ogilarch.

And then a massive fuck-off Megalodon bursts out of the water.

 

Tiburon the Mega Shark wheezes like a fat man trying to compete in the London Marathon as it flops onto the shallows, tail fin churning the depths behind it. It's not entirely sure why it woke up somewhere other than it's usual tank this morning, but it's nose told it there was a swarm of tasty morsels just a few miles from here, and what shark in their right mind disobeyed the call of food? And thus it had swam like a rocket-powered jetbike towards the shores of Malibu until, owing to the fact that sharks don't have brakes, it surged up onto the sands into the air, gulping down a small yacht as it went. Eyes of black satin roll in it's head as it tries to focus on the swarm of meat running away from it, and with a throaty growl the collosal carcharodon begins to shuffle up the sands after its lunch, pectoral fins heaving the bloated mass onto dry land.

Raja can see the massive shark hauling itself onto the sands, and does not approve of this at all. It was just starting to doze off on the lovely warm sands in the scorching sunshine, and there is no way it's going to let some overgrown sardine just waltz in and interrupt it's "saya waktu" as it's subjects call it. So enraged is the sacred serpent at having it's pampering session interupted that it doesn't even heed the screams of it's own retreating priests as they flee to the undergrowth from the supposed sea demon, instead issuing a screech of challenge as it rears up and slides out of the trees to confront it's foe. Altar boys tumble off it's coils onto the sand, onto the grass and onto each other as the furious Mega Python emerges into the sunlight of Malibu.

And so, Tiburon gets the shock of it's life when a 21-metre snake appears in front of it, jaws agape and hissing like someone just stepped onto a gas main's tail.

There's a considerable pause as the two competitors size each other up. The Mega Python sways back and forth like a drunken boxer insisting that no, he's still good to drive, shut your ugly face, all the while shifting its ponderous coils to gain more purchase on the terrain in the event things go badly wrong for it. The Mega Shark in response, lets out a rattling bellow as rotten air is forced from it's primitive, genetically enhanced lung, it's considerable bulk rocking in the sway as it beats its tail and arches its back in threat. It's the classical mexican standoff, except with a lot more dust clouds and churning ocean as the two amphibious beasts square off on the rapidly-depopulating shores, the tourists deciding that a giant shark and a giant snake is too much excitement for one day.

Then Raja suddenly jinxes to the side, instead of lunging straight forward as snakes are usually wont to do. Bewildered, Tiburon twists around, trying to get itself back into position so as to block any incoming strikes with it's massive, toothy jaw. But a shark on land doesn't have the best of turning circles, and the supersized shark leaves it's scaled hide open to attack - an opening which the Indian contender is quick to take advantage of. Darting forward, the supersized snake rams his head into the Megalodon's side, uncountable tonnes of flesh striking like a rocket-powered battering ram, and the aquatic abomination roars with pain and confusion as it rolls onto it's side, tail thrashing madly as it tries to right itself.

No dice. Almost instantaneously, a set of sharp, toothy jaws bite down on the Mega Shark's throat - nowhere enough to cut off  breathing, but enough to cut through the scaled flesh and grip on tight. Pain rachets through the fearsome fish's mind as blood spurts from the wound into the shallows, staining the waters red, and a grackled squawk escaped from the toothy maw. Ignoring the pained writhing, the Mega Python tightens it's grip on the shark's neck as it begins to shift it's body forwards, preparing to wind it's coils around the hapless Tiburon and crush the life from the already-floundering barrel body. The collosal constrictor supresses a chuckle of triumph - this would be over before-

PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN

Yeah, that's proof that when you have a body that's longer than most subway trains, you ought to remember to keep an eye on it. In a skill of flexibility that the average gymnast would murder our top GaiaCorp's scientists to have, the cruel carcharodon has just twisted around and sank it's teeth into Raja's body, serrated teeth slicing into the flesh like knives through butter. The oversized ophidavian's eyes widen in shock and pain as, for the first time in it's admittedly short yet extremely hedonistic life, it finds that it's dealing with an opponent that isn't just going to kneel down and let itself be killed like all the other sacrifices. Tiburon is going to fight back, something that up until now the snake has never dealt with before.

The Mega Shark knows it can't breathe very well with a mouthful of snake on dry land, but there's no way it's going to let go now it's managed to get a grip on it's foe. Likewise, the Mega Python is not going to relinquish it's stranglehold on the shark's throat while it has it. The two beasts struggle and writhe on the sand, seeking some opening where they can utilize their current position to gain an advantage over their opponent, but neither willing to unhinge their jaws for any reason. The result is a tangle of fins and coils that bowls across the landscape, crushing trees and the few unfortunate tourists who haven't yet abandoned the beach, leaving red smears across the sand.

A row of houses stands on the edge of the beach, perfect for those tourists who don't want to spend effort in walking or petrol in driving to their favourite patch of sand. Within seconds, however, the thrashing monsters have ploughes straight through the line of bleached-white, high-demand villas like a child kicking down his baby brother's sandcastle

The battle is raging inland...

-------

Meanwhile, the Malibu Mainland is having problems of it's own.

Yeah, some jackoff at Sector 7G thought it would be "a right larf" to let the Vietnamese entrants, Quỷ the Mega Piranha, out of their tank into the Malibu Creek. These things grow as big as your average great white shark, and are just as ruthless as them crazy Victorians said they were before we discovered that hey, some of their relatives eat fruit, isn't that just darling? And now they're ruining political relations by making snacks of the soldiers that patrol this Demilitarized Zone, leaping out of the water to snap up panicking guardsmen like meaty popcorn. Also, despite the ridiculous amount of gunfire being aimed at their way, the freakish fish just shrug the bullets off as though it's a stiff breeze playing through their fins.

I swear, when we find the guy who managed to get his mitts on the door codes, we're firing his ass so hard he won't be able to sit down without applying liberal amounts of soothing cream.

...Hey, what's that noise?

It's coming here awfully fa-

OH SHIT

In the blink of an eye, Raja and Tiburon tumble onto the scene, their titanic forms crushing the tree line and ploughing straight through the wire fence barricades set up by both factions of Malibu's goverment to protect the nature reserve from their little spat. The Mega Piranha don't stand a chance - they don't even have time to shriek before the massive bulks are on top of them, crushing their fishy bones and bursting their bodies like carnivorous balloons. As the combatants of today's fight send the soldiers scattering away from their scrap (try saying that ten times fast!), all that remains of Old Vietnam's entry into the Monster Mash are a shoal of flattened fishcakes.

Ladies and gentlemen, we apologize for the untimely demise of Quỷ. Those who placed bets on these plucky piscenes, please make your way to the betting booths for your refund.

...Anyway.

The shock of the cold water is a surprise to Raja, and the ruthless reptile is forced to let go of the shark's throat. Sensing that it now has the advantage, Tiburon also lets go of the serpent's coils, pivoting round upon one fin and lashing out with it's tail like a sober boxer going for the K.O. haymaker that will ensure another million dollars in the bank account. The snake is unprepared for the attack, and the tail catches it a terrific dinger across the chops, sending it careening into the shallows of the river in a spray of foam that washes up the banks.

When the water stops churning, the snake doesn't move.

As in, at all.

It just lies there, motionless.

Tiburon stares at the unmoving body for a while. Then it gives a croaking bellow of triumph. It's powerful senses that would normally allow it to detect the heartbeat and nerve signals of prey are dulled in open air, but from where it stands the Mega Shark is confident that it cannot sense any signs of life from the pile of scales and muscle lying half-in and half-out of the river like a discarded skipping rope that nobody wants. The pugilistic python is out for the count, and America's Defender of the Oceans is ready to finish the job. Snake meat is apparently very tasty, according to the president, and it's gills are starting to burn from spending so long out of the water. The shark is going to make this quick, and then head off downstream for home and rest.

With a growl, the mega-sized Megalodon shuffled foward on it's fins, ready to-

 

The ticked-off Titanoboa moves. One minute, it's lying in the Malibu Creek. The next, it's wound itself around Tiburon like an enrage hosepipe before the overblown fish can react. Startled, the supersized shark roars in pain and terror as the mighty coils tighten around it's barrel body, the Indian snake god not even registering the scraping of rough scales against it's underside as it gets to work. With a snarl, the Mega Python shifts it's body, and before the bewildered Tiburon knows what the deuce is going on, it's being rolled like a barrel across the stream bed until-

CRASH

Oh, yes, I forgot to mention? You know that Malibu Dam thing? Yeah, that got taken down because the fractured government couldn't make the income to upkeep it. In the end, they just kind of left it to gather dust, not doing much of anything. It's full of rot and mold and rust and other nasty things. Malibu Lake has turned stagnant from neglect. Both it and the damn mark the end of the Demilitarized Zone, where anything goes and you can get shot for a thousand different reasons. And our Monster Mash contestants have just ploughed straight through it.

South Malibu, meet several thousand gallons of water.

How tragic.

...

...yeah, that's all very well, but what about-?

Hissing in triumph, Raja the Mega Python uncoils from the bitten, bleeding and crushed form of Tiburon, letting the bloodied carcass sink to the sea to join it's comrade Dinoshark as hagfish chow. The sacred serpent may have spent most of it's admittedly short life being waited on hand and foot, but that doesn't mean it doesn't know how to fight. And fight is exactly what it has done - for all it's massive teeth and Mother-Nature-defying land-crawling, the Mega Shark was just too slow and too stupid compared to the far swifter giant constrictor. A sad day for marine life across the globe.

Exhausted but triumphant, the Indian Vatican's perverted take on Yaweh turns and swims back to shore, where a gaggle of priests and alter boys are nervously emerging from their hideaways.

 

WINNER: MEGA PYTHON!

 



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Talk about a titanic battle, eh, folks? That's one that the fine people of Malibu won't be forgetting in a hurry, and one that will cost them at least several trillion dollars to recover from! Fortunately, we here at GaiaCorp are nothing if not stinking rich - perhaps they might accept a few thou from us? Oops, hang on, that's their president on the line...

In the meantime, sports fans, collect your winnings and enjoy your discounts on Raja T-Shirts, plushies and dreidels! And keep an eye out for our next cataclysmic battle on THE MONSTER MASH!

Monster Mash - Round 1 Fight 2 Votes

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome back to The Monster Mash 199X! You've tuned in just in time to learn all about our second clash of collosal creatures!

We'll be frank, sports fans - sometimes, we at GaiaCorp get a little short-changed. Funding gets tightened up, workers are demotivated despite being able to mess about with the fabric of life itsef and we end up with a lack of imagination being thrown about. The monsters on display tonight are kind of a product of these motivational and financial slumps - they don't have firey breath or crystal skin or anything like that. But never let it be said we don't make the best of what we have, and the upcoming battle we have planned is designed to do just that! Tonight, seemingly ordinary supersized animals show they're anything but as they duke it out for the right to become the true King of Monsters! And it's all happening right here in THE MEGA MELEE IN MALIBU!

IN THE BLUE CORNER...

We're not exactly sure when India suddenly became a world superpower. But we know exactly how they did it - the sudden spread of a wild new religion like orange juice spilling on the kitchen counter. And the creed of the newly formed Indian Vatican revolves around one deity in particular. A giagantic serpent that hides in the darkest jungles of the subcontinent and devours sinners and naughty children. A god that can judge your soul by looking at you. A living, breathing incarnation of Yin and Yang - hatched in GaiaCorp's labs under the name of Raja the MEGA PYTHON!

 



So yeah, the Indians have this really weird thing about snakes. On the one hand, they’re the children of God who wound themselves around the baby Jesus to keep him warm. On the other hand, they’re demons who suck the souls out of bad children and live in dark forests – it’s complicated. But when they asked us to make a really big snake, we didn’t argue with them, especially when they had an entire nation of hitmen at their beck and call. This isn’t just a big snake – it’s a perfect fusion of reticulated python and Titanoboa DNA, a hybrid of proportions so massive you need an entire fleet of helicopters to carry it about. The fuel costs for those trips are abominable, trust us.

We're not kidding about the size, either - Mega Python reaches an impressive length of 21 metres (69 feet), longer than his ancestors, and has the kind of gape that could swallow a subway train whole. As a constrictor, his coils deliver impressive crushing strength to anything caught between them, and his teeth are also capable of inflicting nasty damage. He's at home in both the water and on the land, and cam move with lighting speed when needed. That said, like Dinoshark before him, Mega Python doesn't like the cold, and unlike Dinoshark he needs to breath air, so staying underwater for extended periods is taxing for him. But still, this is one snake you don't want Steve Irwin to meet.

IN THE RED CORNER...

Oh, America. What can you say about them that hasn't already been said? Well, you can say they're trying to improve, after the whole martial law debacle that resulted in the Arbiters. You could also say that they're kind of an empire now, since Canada and Alaska no longer exist on the map. And you could say that they really, really don't want anyone else finding out about their oil supplies off the coast and nicking the stuff for themselves. It takes a special kind of watchdog to keep an eye on the country's coastline, and that just so happens to be Tiburon the MEGA SHARK!

 

Okay, this is gonna be awkward - what do you do when messing around with prehistoric shark genes suddenly creates this thing? Because that's what happened to us, and so we kinda gave it to the American Empire on the off-chance they neded a giant fuck-off shark, and like typical Americans they said yes. But the thing is, this isn't your ordinary ressurected Megalodon - we think there might be some lungfish and barracuda in there. We honestly weren't paying attention when we were mixing up the culture dishes on that day. But Mega Shark just sounds so much more impressive than "Mega-Mish-Mash-of-Fish", doesn't it?

 

At 16 metres, (53 feet) Mega Shark may be shorter in length than Mega Python, but size isn't a problem here. See, the shark's main weapon is it's massive mouth, full of teeth around 180 millimetres (1.7 inches) in length, designed for slicing through flesh in one bite. The creature also has unusually durable skin for a seagoing creature, and thanks to the lungfish DNA we may or may not have accidentally mixed in, it can crawl on land for short spaces of time. That said, it can't actually stay on land for long, and it has the rather unfortunate problem all sharks have - it literally suffocates if it stays still for too long, as it has to keep moving to breathe.

 

THE ARENA

As the title suggests, we're holding this fight on the shores of Malibu. It's still the ever popular tourist destination it was, but it's kind of suffering from civil war problems at the moment, meaning a lot of people have ended up building ramshackle slum villages after government forces wrecked their old homes. Still, that means we should get some nice flying debris as the two monsters duke it out, and maybe you might be able to snap a commemorative picture of the event just before you and your family get flattened. It'll be the best holiday of your life, trust us.

 

And now, sports fans - who will walk away victorious? The Sacred Serpent with a crushing embrace and a hunger for naughty children? The Cruel Charcharodon with serrated teeth and bewilderingly inexplicable air-breathing powers? Cast your bets now, folks, because sharkfin soup and snake steaks are on special offer when you bet over $500!

 

VOTE NOW!