Fae Folk

Have you ever had a day where everything just seemed to go wrong?

Mine didn't start until last night, when I made the first mistake in a long line of mistakes - purchasing a replica sword from a booth at a games convention. I fully admit, it was a stupid desicion and I knew it at the time, but I make terrible purchasing desicions after a pint of Stowford Press, and a pewter mug or video game poster just didn't seem like appropriate souvenirs. The only major issue I had with the thing was that it didn't have any label describing the maker or what franchise it was based off, but it was small and fairly cheap, and the man running the booth seemed all too happy to get rid of it. And hey, it looked vaguely like the Master Sword, so there was that going for it.

This small victory was immediately crushed when I returned home and my mother flipped her lid at the sight of it. I'd spent years procrastinating on finding a job and wasting my university degree, so money was a touch and go subject, and as far as she was concerned the huge, impractical replica blade was close to the last straw. A lot of screamed words and accusations got thrown about, and threats to cut off the Internet or kick me out of the house got aimed my way, and we parted in a sour mood fuelled by mutual resentment and my own self-loathing. When we sat down at the television that night, we didn't banter or guess at plot points like we used to - our relationship had been severely strained by my frivolous purchase, and we both knew it.

I knew that in the morning the whole thing would have been smoothed over and life would probably proceed as normal, even if the atmosphere would be a little frosty at first. But as I placed the sword against the wall next to the games consoles and crawled into bed, I felt as though all of my internal organs had been transmuted into lumps of lead. As childish as this is going to seem, I honestly wished I was somewhere else instead of some backwater town in the arse end of England - somewhere more interesting, where I didn't have to put up with my parents or dodgy neighbours and the reek of 4am booze and vomit.

With all that considered, though, I slept like a log. Cider will do that to you.

-------

I was woken up next morning by a buzzing noise close to my ear.

I groaned - it had been a pretty hot Summer, so the explosion in the insect population was pretty much a given at this point. Despite my best efforts, things like craneflies, ladybugs and the occasional wasp would breach the flimsy defenses of my room's windows and make a scene until I could shift them or get them with the bug spray. But I was comfortable, and couldn't be bothered to drag myself out of bed just to deal with the one annoying insect. So I merely swatted at it with one hand, thinking nothing of it and merely wanting to lie in until I felt ready to face the world at large.

That was the second mistake. Because then the buzzing thing swooped down, landed on my shoulder and bit me on the ear.

"YEEEOOOW!" I shrieked, leaping about a foot into the air. Have you ever been bitten by a swarm of ants, or stung by nettles? Because this was like the two had fused together, Dragon Ball style, into some kind of super-sting whose sole purpose is to make your life an utter misery - a tingling, ice-cold spike of pain that radiates thorny roots into the rest of your skin just to drive the point home. It was the kind of bite, I figured as I clapped a free hand over my ear, that wasn't going to shift any time soon, and that made the whole experience worse.

But my agony became trivial when the thing alighted on my other shoulder and said:

"Ah've bin tryin' ta git yer bloody attenshun fer 'alf an hour, ye sod! Are all 'umans this bloody daft, or is ye a special case?"

Somehow, despite the pain in my neck, I managed to twist my head around to facew hat I had assumed was a talking insect. Except that instead of some miraculous discovery in the field of entomology, there was a very small, very naked woman standing there, with fiery red hair, deep green eyes and an expression like she was scolding a puppy for chewing the furniture. For someone about eight inches tall, she was built like a Roman gladiator - broad shoulders, thick limbs and muscles that looked like they could knead my blood right out of my own pasty body. That and the shiny, beetle-like wings folded up over her back should have been my first clue that this was not the thing that children's storybooks were written about.

But I was still half-asleep and still getting over the pain of the first bite. So I made my third mistake.

"Excuse me," I mumbled. "Are you a fairy?"

For reply, she leaned over and bit my other ear.

"Ah'm a bloody pixie, ye daft booger!" she snapped, once I'd stopped screaming and realized she was hovering just in front of my nose. "If I wuz a fairie, Ah'd be wearin' clothes, fer wun thing, an' doin' a lot warse tae ye reet noo! An' stop squallin', t'wern't nowt but a love bite!" The stranger's voice was surprisingly baritone, for such a small creature - despite being clearly a female voice, it sounded as though Barry White and that girl from Disney's Brave had some kind of horrific love-child.

"Give me one reason," I hissed, massaging my forever-ruined earlobes, "why I shouldn't just swat you into a pulp right now. Because even if I wasn't hallucinating this, I don't have any time for this shit right now."

"Ah'll give ye two," was the reply as the pixie - if that was what she was - folded her arms over her chest. "Wun- ye couldnae squish me if ye tried. Ah've got enuff strength in me body tae hoy yer sorry arse oot yonder winder, so a book or shoe wouldnae do shite tae me." Given the close-up of her muscles I was getting as she buzzed, humming-bird style, just a little too close for comfort, I was ready to believe her. I normally had no qualms about squashing bugs, but one look at those rippling abs and biceps left me ready to reconsider my options.

"Two," she added, pointing to the aformentioned window, "there's a knucker diggin' oop yer ma'am's garden."

It took all of two seconds for me to register that bit of information. Then, even more bewildered beyond belief, I leaped up out of bed and dashed to the window, peering past the glare of the morning sun and down into the garden below. Sure enough, there did seem to be something rooting about in the bushes at the foot of the lawn, kicking up dirt over the grass as it dug - something which, on first glance, could have been mistaken for next door's orange-and-white cat, with it's hunched back and front end hidden from view.

Except when I looked closer, it was clearly too big to be a cat.

-------

My fourth and stupidest mistake was thinking I could run downstairs, leap out of the double-doors that lead to the back garden and try to shoo the thing away.

Because the moment I got close, it whipped around to face me, and it dawned on me immediately just how woefully underequipped I was for this. The creature looked like somebody had taken a lizard and stretched it on a rack - all body, neck and tail, with equally-gangly limbs and sharp claws still covered with soil from the digging it had been doing. The eyes were too big for the horn-studded skull, rolling comically back-and-forth in their sockets, but the effect was ruined by the angry hissing noise that came from parted jaws, accompanied by glistening fangs and a stench like an upturned pig farm.

The knucker, if that was what it was called, was clearly not happy about being interrupted, and was also more than capable of killing me in various agonizing ways. And all I had on me was my dressing gown and two hands that were only good for either furious wanking or typing on a computer. For a brief moment, as the snake-like monster manouvered itself into position between me and the flowerbed, I wondered if this was some sort of horrible nightmare I hadn't properly woken up from, and if I should stop reading so much Tolkien before I went to bed.

But then the buzzing of the pixie's wings came cutting into my thoughts, and she shouted into my ear too loud for it to be a dream.

"Dinnae panic, laddie!" she yelled. "Joost mind oot when it lays it's ears back - that's when it spits venom at ye!"

"Spits what?" I said, my attention divided between her and the horrible thing.

Then I saw the creature's bat-like ears flatten back, and I leaped to one side just in time as the knucker lunged forward and coughed out a stream of something purple in my direction. The foul-smelling liquid missed me by a hair's breadth, but splattered over the paving stones, gravel and fence in great globs, and a sizzling sound like bacon on a frying pan ensued, accompanied by great clouds of fumes from where the substance had struck. I shuddered as my brain conjured images of dissolving flesh and liquifying bone, which I quickly pushed out because I wanted to eat breakfast, thank you very much.

"Git the sword, ya gutless fanny!" shrieked the pixie in tangible frustration. "Lop it's fackin' 'eed orf!"

"I can't!" I howled back, trying to put distance between me and the snarling knucker. "It's in my room!"

"Oh, fer fack's sake..."

The buzzing rapidly vanished, which meant the pixie had left me alone with the slavering snake-dragon thing. It wasn't a very comforting desicion, since the creature was still very cross at me and seemed to be inching forwards to get in range for another strike, which was precisely what I didn't want right now. Putting the clothesline between me and it would be a stupid idea - if it's venom was able to melt stone and wood like that, then what chance did a flimsy metal pole have? Precisely ten seconds of my life passed by where it really didn't seem as though I was going to walk away without some part of me missing.

Then something like a toothpick was hurridley pressed into my hand.

Everything happened fast after that.

For a moment, I caught a glimpse of the replica sword in the palm of my hand, before it suddenly grew back to it's usual size and weight, making me stumble with the sudden change. Reading my panicked flailing as an attack, the knucker lunged again, this time to bite - and a higher instinct kicked in that took control of my body and made me twirl aside, the teeth missing my thigh by milimetres. The head lashed around again, but met the blade coming the other way, and there wasn't anything I could do to stop what happened next with my arms acting on autopilot.

There was a crunch as bone disintergated like a biscuit liferaft, accompanied by a fountain of black, stinking blood.

And then it was over. I'd just killed a monstrous dragon in the back garden, with a magical size-changing sword, wearing my pyjamas and dressing gown, because a foul-mouthed naked pixie told me to. And nobody was there to congratulate me. No mayors or kings were offering me land, no princesses were kissing me on the cheek, no parties were being thrown with cake or pizza or booze. It was just as though I'd merely gone outside to mow the lawn or buy a paper for my grandmother, a mere footnote in the day's events, worth no more notice than an itchy nose.

Not a great start to the week.

As I stood there, heaving with terror and wondering how to wash the blood out of my clothes, the pixie alighted on my shoulder again. I could sense the satisfied grin on her face without having to look, and the vague impression that she was scoring my efforts on a scale of one to ten went through my mind. It occurred to me that I was probably not awake enough to make sound character judgements, but I still couldn't help the feeling that this tiny muscle-woman knew far more than she was letting on, and that made me uncomfortable. On top of terrified, confused and nauseated, I mean.

"Nut bad, laddie," she remarked, "Ah reck'n ye'll 'ave a knack fer this afore long!"

I blinked, resisiting the urge to vomit from the stench of knucker gore. Then I pocketed the sword - it shrank, of course - and headed down the garden path in the direction that, I knew, would ease my mind of these troubled events.

"Whoa, 'ang aboot!" cried the pixie woman. "Where'z ya gawn tae?"

"To the garage," I muttered thickly. "That's where I keep my cider."

"Ach, dinnae bovver wi' that! Thatcher's is piss in a bottle!"

 I turned, ready to snap back at her for talking shit about by beloved tipple, only to find her suddenly carrying a very large jug of what looked like melted gold, which sloshed heavily as I came to a stop just short of the garden gate. The fact that she was carrying it without a hint of a struggle - in one hand, no less - made me wonder where the hell she'd been when I needed to move my old bookshelf out for the council to collect. Would have saved me a lot of bother.

"Naah, this," she cackled, "is a proper bevvy!"

-------

Three swigs of pixie rock cider (which is fucking delicious, by the way), and I was calm enough to let my new house guest explain things. Which she started off by suddenly growing to about my size - which was a bit of shock, but honestly? After killing a dragon, I was just about ready for anything between a charging rhino and a meteorite strike, so a naked woman sitting next to me with a glass of fairie booze was hardly anything to get worked up about.

Her name was Belinda. And yes, she was a pixie. They're kind of like the value-brand, low-budget cousin to fairies, and the relationship bewteen the races is like that between the rich and the poor in the average Charles Dickens novel. She'd run away from home because she couldn't stand the prejudice and oppression any longer, and had pretty much blundered into this part of the country by accident - which made sense, because if she was being smart about it she would have come somewhere more exciting than here. And that, apparently, was when she felt the thaumic signal from my sword and made a beeline straight for me.

"So the sword actually is magic," I groused, unsure as whom I should be blaming.

"Aye," nodded Belinda as she knocked back another swig. "Faecaliburs be dead rare, mind. Only a few o' em left, and nae many livin' wot could forge anuvver. Yer bloody blessed ta get yer mitts on one, Ah'll tell ye - we wudnae be 'aving this chat reet noo, ovverwise."

I blinked. The pieces were starting to come together in my mind - all of this had happened after I'd got the sword, it didn't look like anything I recognized from nerd culture, it could inexplicably change size...

"...the sword is letting me see you."

"Och, yer noo' as daft as ye look!" The pixie slapped me on the back - which was like being hit with a sledgehammer, and made me jerk forward and spill cider on the carpet. "Dinnae fash yersel' aboot that, it vanishes in aboot a minute."

Then she told me the rest of the story - and guess what? All that stuff about fairies and dragons and all the folklore of the British Isles? It's all real. Don't ask me to explain how, but basically they decided to hide themselves with magic years ago, and now regular people can't see fae - that's the collective noun for all magical beings, by the way - because they explicitly don't want to be seen. It's only when a normal person interacts with something made by fae hands, or gets blisteringly drunk or high, that they can see them; and most just blame the alcohol since, as far as the real world is concerned, fairies simply don't exist. Weird shit, I know.

"So wait," I interrupted. "If I went to Derby right now, would I see that giant ram standing over the city?"

"Naa, that's 'is great-great-great grandkid noo. 'Ee's a reet arse'ole when the footie's on."

"And Nottingham?"

"Robin dinnae taak many visitors noowadays. But aye, 'ee's there."

"Scotland?"

"Och, best not tae, laddie. Nessie gits aal cranky durin' July - matin' season fer kelpies."

"...and why are you Scottish?" I asked, the question only just occurring to me. "I thought pixies were from Cornwall."

Belinda shrugged. "Me great grandpa moved oop there durin' the war, when bloody Nazi's looked like they wuz gonna invade. Ah wuz born and grown in a brownie neighborhood, an Ah reck'n Ah joost picked oop t'local flavour. Mind ye," she added, grinning widely, "at least Ah'm no' born Irish! Bloody money-grubbin' leprechauns can kiss me arse, bunch o' swanky fannies!"

I sipped my cider again, and made my fifth mistake.

"So," I summarised, "I have just brought a magical sword made of fae metal, which lets me see all the folkloric beings of the British Isles, made the acquaintance of a pixie, killed a dragon-"

"Knucker, laddie."

"-knucker, right, and now I've just learned that fairies are real and living among us. And I know I'm not dreaming any of this, because I'm not anywhere near smart enough to make up this kind of shit. So, the big fat question hanging over all of this right now is... what do I do with all this? Because if it means I'm now the Chosen One or something and have to save the world from some terrible evil, I'm not doing that."

Belinda looked at me when I finished that statement, as if judging me for a job interview. And her eyes were like polished emeralds boring through my body - I got the uncomfortable feeling that she was reading me like an open book. It made me squirm a little in the sofa, and it didn't help that I wasn't sure where to look, torn between not wanting to be rude and not staring at the naked woman sitting right next to me. This was something the pixie had clearly had experience in, wheras I had none of that at all.

"Weel, noo" she replied, "ye divvent need tae do any o' that. But Ah cannae lie to ye, laddie, it's nae aal roses an' clover. Ye'll nivvor see things the same agin, on accoont o' knowin' that yer boss might joost be a dragon or elf, or yer neighbour's got a barghest fer a dog. There's a lotta dangerous beasties an' beings oot there, warse than knuckers, and quite a few pricks wot'll taak an interest in ye fer ownin' a Faecalibur and bein' able tae see us. Ye could verra weel git hort or warse, if ye divvent knaa wut yer doin', an' folks wot cannae see us will taak ye fer mad, mebbe even try an' lock ye oop if yer try an gab any o' this tae anywun."

That statement wasn't very comforting to anyone, let alone a twenty-three year old nerd who's world had made complete sense until now. Never mind the fact that I'd be considered insane if I divulged this information to any other human being (as if I would), there was the distinct possibility that my drunken impulse purchase could lead to me ending up in a dragon's stomach or getting my head cut off by mad elves. For a moment, I wondered once more if I really was dreaming and was going to wake up at some point.

Once again, fate dealt me a bum hand when Belinda threw an arm around me, and my shoulders whined in protest.

"Ye'll joost stick wi' me, aye? Yer a canny lad, nivvor mind wakin' oop in the morns, and a promisin' 'and with that blade - ye'll sharp larn 'ow tae git bey in the Faelands. We's an odd and scattered folk, nae lyin' aboot it, but us Fae be a bonny lot when we's noo layin' doon curses or makin' heedlines in shite tabloids! Ye'll 'ave a gran' old time with us - whey, give ye a month or three, ye could verra weel pass fer one o' us, if ye keep a mind on wut Ah tells ye!

"Now, 'old still," she finished, letting me go. "Ah gots tae put this in yer lug'ole."

"...I beg your pardon?" I asked.

For answer, Belinda reached into thin air and pulled out something that looked like a failed experiment to crossbreed earwigs and blenders. It shrieked and snapped its six pairs of mandibles at my face, wiggling its stubby legs as though it severely wanted to get back at me for insulting it a mere sentence ago, and yet the pixie held onto it as thought it was a harmless earthworm. It was the kind of scenario where I wished that, between the size-changing faeries and the magical swords and the poison spitting dragons, I could find a box of Chicken McNuggets to reassure myself that I was still on Planet Earth.

I couldn't tell you the name of that insect - it's Gaelic and requires a pint of phlegm in the throat to pronounce properly. But I can tell you that having it crawl into your ear so you can understand the fae language hurts like a goddamn bitch.

-------

Three months later, I had learned a lot of things. 

I'd learned how to step between the world of humans and the Faelands just by thinking about it, and where the best places to do so are. I learned about fae currency and why it can't come into the human world, and that the leprechauns are in charge of the only fae bank in the whole world. I learned how to tell the different between an seal and a selkie, how to haggle with a cait sith for a pint of milk and some ham, where the best place to tickle a wyvern is and why you should never call Herne the Hunter a scrublord to his face. I lost a bunch of weight, won a wrestling match with some out-of-town pixies, killed an erkling preying on children in the New Forest and, as Belinda predicted, had a generally good time.

And yet, when the legendary giant Gogmagog called me a twat as he fished my hungover form out of the River Thames, I still felt completely clueless.

So, did you ever have a day like this?

Because I tell you straight - it can only get better afterwards.

Non-Canon Silliness 4: Dirk Design Desicions

WARNING: The following contains large amounts of #Butts, and may not be suitable for certain readers. It is also not canon and extremely silly, and thus has no actual bearing on the Zoofights RP Timeline.

With that said, enjoy! 

-------

"I am uncertain about this new body design, Dirk."

There was a sentence that encapsulated Dirk Angelos in his entireity. A generally good soul overall, he nevertheless had an enthusiasm that somewhat overrode common sense, and a lot of his endeavours ran the gamut from 'unneccesary' to 'just plain crazy', fueled by the kind of testosterone that would make a rhinoceros cry foul. It was still uncertain of where on that scale starting his own robotics and clothing company would fit, and even as he began to put out ads and put together actual working models for purchase, it was a clear that more research was needed to determine how crazy this plan of his was.

However, Dawn Cosine, looking at the new body she'd ordered a week or two ago, was beginning to see a few telltale warning signs.

Original Art by zdemian

"Something seems... off," she explained, twisting around to look at the new chassis from many angles.

Morons vs Wild 2: The Wildening

WARNING: The following post contains material that certain readers may find upsetting. Reader discretion is advised.

-------ASH'S WORLD-------

The whole thing started when Sam, walking through the forest near Oriam, was pounced upon by a giant spider.

"AAARGH SHIT FUCK BALLS," he screamed as the thing tackled him off his feet, winding all eight legs tightly around his body and pinning his arms against his sides. The swearing continued as he hit the ground, and went on as he jerked his head this way and that, barely dodging the sharp, slavering fangs that kept missing his face by mere millimetres. Sheer panic prevented him from remembering he could have just set himself on fire to escape this predicament, and thus he spent a good half a minute writhing and kicking in the dirt, the spider's weight keeping from rolling upright.

Of course, his salior talk served as the perfect beacon to anyone close by.

"HOLD ON, SAM!"

Sam didn't even see who was approaching until Erdrick had already been driven through the spider's body, the point poking him in the chest by accident. The beast shrieked, convulsed for a moment, and then went limp, the legs losing their grip around the Uberman's body as the life rapidly went out of it. The moment he felt that happening, Sam flexed his arms, pushing the limbs away from him, and threw the corpse of the creature off as he scrambled to his feet, letting off one last torrent of expletives as he went.

Then something grabbed his arm, and he screamed, picturing some worse animal-

"Sam, SAM."

That was Ash's voice. Even in the midst of a heart attack, Sam would know it anywhere.

"It's fine, we're here. It's deader than dead."

And there was Erdrick - his mother's voice, of course, which was still weird, but soothing enough for Sam to get a grip on himself. Whilst he babbled to a stop, gasping for air and clutching his chest, the other man knelt down and produced something akin to a small towel as he began cleaning the foul, pale ichor off of Erdrick's blade. It took some time for the former Destined Hero to get his breath back and put the past events in proper seqence, so he could find the right questions to ask about what just happened.

Thankfully, only one came to mind.

"...what was that?!" he nearly shrieked, pointing at the dead spider.

Non-Canon Silliness Shorts 1: Spell 'Me' (NSFW)

"Hey, Ash."

Ash didn't turn around. "Yes?"

"Spell 'Me'."

End of the Rainbow

WARNING: The following post contains material that may not be suitable for minors or work-based viewing. Reader discretion is advised.

~MASTERS FOUNDATION ARENA, MANHATTAN, USA~

 

"MI-KA! MI-KA! MI-KA!"

The chanting from the crowd shook the building almost to it's foundations, ringing through the steely air of the stadium. Beaming hugely, the masked, blonde-pigtailed wrestler bounced up and down where she stood over her fallen foe, waving her arms above her head in acknowledgement of the waves of hype pouring down over her. Her heart swelled with every repetition of her name, an almost childlike joy flowing through her as she took in the adoration from every man, woman and kid in the audience who were chanting along.

Now this, she thought to herself, is what I live for.

Non-Canon Silliness 3: Morons vs Wild

WARNING: The following is not canon, and is also based on a dumb internet video. Don't read it if you don't care for anything that has no impact on ZFRP in any way :P

Also, watch this video first to understand the context.

~SOMEWHERE ON SAM'S WORLD...~

With a grunt of effort, the hilt of the Grandius was brought squarely down upon the tent peg with a clack, driving it further down into the soil. The action was repeated once, twice, thrice more, abiet with some difficulty, as the wielder's shoulder seemed to have become stiff and painful to move. But Sam - for it was nobody else - persisted despite the complication, until at last the peg was as far in as it could go, and the rope tied around it was as taut as it could be. Now the tent looked like a tent, and not like a jumbled pile of sticks and canvas someone had carelessly thrown aside.

"And that," he muttered, "is that." Then he stood up, and winced as the pain shot through his shoulder again, forcing him to grasp it with his free hand. Closer inspection revealed that the material of his jacket was torn open, and a series of long, ugly scratches - the terrible full-stroke of some animal's claws - decorated the skin. In fact, Sam overall did not look in very good condition, with badly ripped clothing, several bites upon his limbs, more scratches along his torso and a fine coating of dried mud over everything else.

Turning around, Sam recoiled as he saw a vision of awful horror. Then he calmed down as he realized that it was just Ash, sitting down by a fire of whittled branches and leaves. If anything, he seemed to be in an even worse comdition than Sam was - not only was he also covered in bites, but one side of his face was a swollen mass of lumpy, purplish-red blotches, like insect bites or something worse. And, most tellingly, he was hissing between his teeth as he applied the scabbard of the poison-sword Magnificence to his groin, looking to be in considerable pain.

"You alright?" Sam asked as he walked over. "That amphisbaena did a real number on you." The latter remark, judging from the glare shot at him by the other male, didn't seem to help at all.

"It's not the pain," grumbled Ash as the other man squatted close to him. "It's the swelling. I can have Magnificence draw the venom out, no trouble, but... dear Gods, it won't go down!"

"You should be happy," cut in Erdrick's voice, from where he was propped up against one of the tent struts. "It's not like it's ever going to be this big again." 

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...

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...

-------

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."

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...

Monster Mash: Round 3 - Fatal Four-Way Votes

Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys, Girls and those of unspecified gender... welcome to The Monster Mash 199X Fatal Four-Way!

Yes, it's that time of the year again! That glorious moment where we take the four greatest monsters that have battled their way to the top and put them all together for a near-final showdown! Wherever it's the great contenders you know and love, or the rejects who clawed their way back by sheer luck, the Fatal Four-Way is the biggest spectacle of every Monster Mash tournament! Veteran viewers may still remember the climactic tussle of 196X, which - for reasons we're still trying to figure out - somehow resulted in the birth of an entirely new galaxy! Oh, will those wacky Alien Tornadoes ever leave the public imagination...?

...Yes, they will, because they were dumb. And also because that was in the past! Look to the present, sports fans, because the line-up for this year is something to gawp at! All of them were birthed here at GaiaCorp, all of them fought for your amusement, and now they've managed to make their way to the precipice of glory! But who will jump first? Who will chicken out? And who's gonna get turned into giblets by all the others? Only one way to find out, folks, so let's Meet the Monsters!

Clades the Sharktopus
Never let it be said that a loss of limbs could ever keep a champion down! Instead, the Italians commissioned us to replace all of his weak, fleshy tentacles with metallic prosthetic ones. The longest of these two bear extendable laser-blades of the kind he once wielded, whilst the others all contain explosive dart launchers designed to pierce the skin of his enemies. On top of that, he's now been fitted with light-weight nano-carbon armor that should solve the stick problem of him getting cut up a lot during his fights. There's also been whispers of him getting another promotion since his last battle, but we'll have to wait and see about that, won't we?

Daidako the Giant Octopus/Kraken
Okay, Japan, we need to talk. We get that you're happy with Daidako's success. We understand that you want him to represent the country and your company in the best way you see fit. But if you keep dragging him back into your labs so you can keep tinkering with his DNA, then we're going to have to send the SWAT teams to break your kneecaps, because it's just getting silly. And what makes it worse is that we're getting rumors that your planning to increase the amount of human cells in his system - what the hell are you weirdos up to? We swear, if that thing comes back to us knowing how to assemble nuclear reactors, then we'll be charging you for the damages!

Samuel Escardo the Mansquito
So it seems that Samuel has finally found inner peace, able to balance his human rationality and intelligence with his carnivorous insect urges. He's been spending even more time with those monks from Tibet, harnessing an unusual new form of inner energy that our scientists were just on the verge of cracking, and don't you hate it when that happens? But the general gist of it is that, thanks to whatever happened that helped him kill the Mothman, he can now throw fireballs. You know, like in Street Fighter. Also he's a dab hand at martial arts, so don't let him see you carrying any RAID or he'll snap your arm off, quick as a whip.

And introducing...

Tiburon the Mecha Shark
Let's be honest, folks - whilst the idea of entering a shark's head on a tractor would have been hilarious, we at GaiaCorp feel like we need to keep a veneer of professionalism. So we took Tiburon's head and rigged it onto a cyborg body powered by a prototype fusion reactor. We then plated the whole thing in reinforced titanium, added teeth of intermediate alloy steel and loaded the thing up with torpedoes, tracking launchers, electrified dermal armor and a few other sneaky weapons besides. He may be a bit bewildered by what's happened, but the American contender is just happy to be swimming again. Ladies and gentlemen, Mega Shark is dead - long live Mecha Shark!

THE ARENA
That's right, sports fans - we're taking this one to the big leagues! Rather than throwing these four hideous hybrids and savage cyborgs into some random, unsuspecting country and refusing to foot the damage bill, we're hosting this in our very own GaiaCorp ThunderDome! Three times the size of the famous London Olympic stadium, the ThunderDome houses over 180'000 guests and more besides as they cram to see the grand finale to the Monster Mash live and up-close! Sporting a gigantic lagoon for the swimmers, a towering Gladiators-style series of platforms for the flyers and an electrified force-field for the protection of our audience, this is the one place you want to be to view the action!

Oh, and two quick reminders, folks! Voting is now in a tiered style! You simply list the monsters you think have a chance at winning this, in order of your favorite and descending. Think the Big Bar Brawl those Kobbers have, except... better, because this is The Monster Mash. So get cracking, folks!

Second: whoever of these four monsters manages to defeat their opponents has a chance to become the new King of the Monsters! All they have to do is take down the current reigning champions...

Donner und Blitz, the PTERACUDA BROTHERS!

VOTE NOW!

Pink Friday

"Come on, Beck, try to keep up!"

"I'm coming, dad- ACK!"

"Oh, my gosh! Are you alright?"

"Yeah, mom, I'm fine. It's just... oh, why do we have to do our Christmas shopping now, of all days?"

"Because all the shops put their best deals on at this time of year. And if you want to get any of your presents, we'd be better off buying them today!"

"Yeah, but everyone else has thought so, too, haven't they? Look at all these crowds!"

"He's got a point, Melody. I've never seen it this bad in all my life. Not since the Great Crush of '87!"

"Yes, and it was a good job Rush was there, otherwise poor old Light wouldn't have made it! Honestly, the way these shops make such a fuss about Christmas nowadays-"

"Um, guys? I can't find Uncle James."

"...Oh, great. I told him to stay right behind us! He's probably gotten swept away or lost now!"

"Calm down, Rock. We have our phones, remember? We'll just-

"...What's that coming towards-"

"CITIZENS!"

"Your king... has arrived~"

"..."

"..."

"...Mom, dad, I wanna go home."

-------

And people wonder why Beck doesn't go Christmas shopping.

Goats

(Special thanks to The Deleter for the concept and for writing Jonesy! And also to CW and FV for giving their blessing to this!)

Anyone visiting the Svilzerian household this particular afternoon would hear the strangest-goings on.

"Ha ha ha, that guy just flew, like, fifty feet!"

"My head is clipping through the wall, what is this?!"

The source would be a blonde and a redhead, hunched over a laptop and cackling like hyenas. Jonesy  and Carol, to be precise, the marine having invited the technopath over for the day to stave off boredom whilst their respective friends were busy. And a few beers seemed like a good way to pass the time - several bottles were, in fact, littering the surface of the desk at that particular moment. But that had just been the setup,  the actual source of the hilarity confined to what the two women happened to be playing on Carol's laptop.

That being co-op Goat Simulator.

Monster Mash: Round 2 Fight 3 - Mansquito vs. Mothman

Boys, girls and those of indeterminate gender, welcome back to The Monster Mash 199X!

And... let's be honest, we're not looking forward to this one. We're getting reports of a lot of wanton destruction going on in downtown Beijing, and everyone at GaiaCorp is praying to gods we don't believe in that it's just another Muto, and not what we think it is. But considering our luck, it's more than likely Mothman, and it's also more than likely that our other contender is going to find him and a battle is going to start. And since that's what you guys want, we're obliged to broadcast it live anyway, regardless of the immense loss of life on the horizon.

Ugh, alright. Here it is.

Connor Hardy here, trying not to shit myself as we go live to the action...

Monster Mash: Round 2 Fight 2 - Sharktopus vs. Gatoroid

Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, sports fans and haters, welcome back to The Monster Mash 199X!

And boy, do we have a real humdinger of a battle this time, folks! In fact, our stock market guys are telling us that people will be recording this one three times over just so they can watch it with their friends every week! Tonight's battle of beasts sees us traveling to the heart of the American Everglades, a once-rich national park now reduced to a barren, blood-soaked battlefield as rival gangs battle it out for priceless blood diamonds and an invasive species makes snacks of every faction. Will Clades, the hero of the Greco-Roman Empire, take the win for his country and masters? Or will Mann Co.'s Ol' Fangs secure the domination of these resource-rich territories? Whatever the outcome, you can't deny that it's going to make great television!

Buckle up, viewers, and bring your mosquito nets, because it's time for...

Connor Hardy, reporting from the safety of his helicopter as it happens!

Filler: Some Dumb Syfy Movie Concepts

So yeah, I was bored and wanted to hype you all up for my next post. So in the middle of writing it I opened another tab, looked up lists of people who'd starred in shitty SyFy original films and then barfed this up into another post.

In short, this is blatant filler. Enjoy.

Shark of Darkness
Other Titles: Heart of Sharkness, Sharkolypse Now, Vietnam Shark Attack
Starring: Corin Nemec, Lorenzo Lamas
Tagline: Darkness has 300 teeth.
Premise: A team of American soldiers in Vietnam are on a secret mission to infiltrate the Viet Cong. However, the operation is threatened by the presence of a massive bull shark hunting them down.

Sabre Tooth vs. Monster Wolf
Other Titles: Attack of the Beasts
Starring: Gary Stretch, Anne McDaniels
Taglines: The fur is gonna fly!/Like cats and dogs... only worse!
Premise: A genetically-modified sabre-toothed cat and dire wolf escape from a research lab and kill their way through a small town. A scientist teams up with a legendary hunter to stop the animals.

Dinoboa
Other Titles: Dinoconda, Snakeasaurus
Starring: Debbie Gibson, David Carradine
Tagline: A blast from the past!
Premise: A giant prehistoric snake is awakened by illegal gold mining operations. A young scientist, however, befriends the creature and becomes sympathetic towards it as the military hunt it down.

Pterantula vs. Mechasaurus
Starring: Brooke Hogan, Robert Picardo
Tagline: We made a monster to fight a nightmare.
Premise: When a genetic abomination escapes from it's cage and begins terrorizing L.A., only an ace pilot can save the world from the cockpit of a giant robot dinosaur.

Sky Sharks
Other Titles: Flying Sharks, Cloud Sharks
Starring: Stacy Keach, Jaleel White, Tiffany
Tagline: Don't look up.
Premise: A mad scientist unleashes hordes of genetically-modified flying sharks around the world.

Hurricano
Other Titles: Firestorm, Blazing Tornado
Starring: Jeff Fahey, Erica Cerra, William B. Davis
Tagline: Hell has arrived on Earth.
Premise: A group of unrelated people must survive and evacuate the city when a hurricane, carrying lava and fire from an erupting volcano, hits the city.

Dinosaurs vs. Mermaids
Other Titles: War of the Continents
Starring: TBA
Taglines: Land vs Ocean/Need We Say More?
Premise: An paleontologist and a marine biologist find themselves caught up in a war between resurrected dinosaurs and a tribe of mermaids from lost Lemuria.

Ya-Te-Vo
Other Titles: Monster Tree, Zombie Plants from Madagascar
Starring: Lorenzo Lamas, Brooke Hogan
Tagline: Eat your greens... before they eat you!
Premise: A new species of plant is distributed across the world, but turns out to be carnivorous and narcotic. Now the military has to stop them from either eating everyone or turning them into zombies.

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!

--------

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.

--------
 

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!
 

-----

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...