Presented here are the fights from the fifth round of UMBA Season XXXVI in the order they happened. For quick links to each fight, you may wish to use the links in 5.
Angler vs Maximus: the Rematch has attracted a lot of attention from those who support Gladiator vs Gladiator combat, and there's been a whole lot of academic debate in the run-up over which of the competitors is more human. (“Obviously Maximus is the most human one–he wears shorts instead of armour!”)
The stadium is packed with excited Fans bearing TEAM MAXIMUS or TEAM ANGLER banners. Even Commentator Jitter, notorious in Commentator circles for their hatred of Maximus, sounds intrigued by the set-up.
“Settle down, Friends of the Network, we're about to begin! Angler, are you ready? Maximus, are you ready? …Gintrap, is Maximus ready? I can't tell if that stabbing gesture was a yes or not- oh, he is? Great! Then on the signal of the Umpire… let battle commence!”
Angler moves first, putting his trident between the two of them defensively as he begins to circle Maximus. He blocks most of Maximus's strikes with the staff of his trident, wincing each time at the force of the blows. Then, he suddenly spins his trident around and jabs at Maximus, spearing him in the shoulder. With his unarmed hand, Maximus reaches for the weapon lodged in his flesh and begins to step backwards, almost pulling Angler off his feet. Angler digs his heels in and pulls back, ducking from side to side as Maximus aims a few more blade swipes at his elbows.
After several tense moments of this, Angler steps back, barely keeping hold of the end of the trident… then he rushes forwards, taking Maximus by surprise. He grips onto the trident staff as he charges the knife-wielding Monster, driving the prongs deeper into Maximus's shoulder and unbalancing him with the force of it. Both of them topple over and Angler narrowly manages to escape the range of the knife as Maximus slashes it furiously through the air. Angler rolls to his feet, stamps a booted foot down onto Maximus's wrist, and pins the knife hand down as he steadies himself with the trident rising into the air. Maximus kicks at his opponent ineffectually but can do nothing to resist as Angler finally pulls his weapon free and then jams it into Maximus's other shoulder.
Maximus shudders, then falls still. A roar of support comes from the TEAM ANGLER crowd, which appears to include Commentator Jitter.
“Hell yes, that was satisfying! Let's get Maximus out of the Arena, eh? Good work, Angler, go and get yourself patched up–wait, what?”
There's a rustling as the Commentator's vocal enhancer is set down. Jitter can be seen discussing something with a Maintenance Branch worker and a Creative Branch worker, who appear to have invaded the Commentator's Box to deliver a message.
The two Network employees leave the Box, and Jitter picks up their vocal enhancer again. “Sorry about that, everyone… it looks like a second fight has been scheduled–how exciting! Apparently, since Maximus and Angler have already fought once before, you've all been clamouring for a fresh new fight… isn't that right?”
There's some faint murmuring among the audience. They seem broadly positive about the idea of a second fight, but nobody appears to have been actively calling for this outcome.
After a short break, during which Angler can be seen conferring with his Trainer Gintrap, the Umpire announces the start of the second fight. Angler takes his position in the Arena again, and as the gates on the other side open…
“It's… FERROSAUR! Last seen in the MASKED MONSTER SHOWDOWN against Friendly Fire, and known to have quite a history with Angler… I remember seeing Angler absolutely trash it last Season! Of course… that was before all the upgrades!”
Ferrosaur is a great, hulking mass of shining gears which slot together and turn continuously as Ferrosaur stalks into the Arena. Its glowing eyes immediately seek out its opponent, and its baleful roar is nothing short of terrifying.
“Trainer Bygones just paid… oh, I'm not allowed to tell you how much she paid, am I? She paid a LOT to enter Ferrosaur for this last-minute grudge match against Angler… guess this must be personal? Ferrosaur sure does look like it remembers its old foe!”
Ferrosaur stomps towards its opponent, each heavy footstep rattling the ground. Angler backs up just in time as it lowers its head and snaps the air in front of him with great, rusting teeth. Angler displays some impressive combat skills as he ducks and weaves under Ferrosaur's tail, using his trident to swing around its great, powerful limbs whenever it moves to stomp him.
However, with a jangling of cogs, something strange happens to Ferrosaur's armour. Spikes begin to rise from every surface, driven by the clockwork across Ferrosaur's entire hide. Angler attempts to jam his trident into the spinning gears but they're moving fast enough that the weapon is ripped from his hands and thrown across the Arena to land well out of reach.
Ferrosaur charges headfirst at Angler, who can't get out of the way in time and is flung backwards against the wall of the Arena like a ragdoll. Ferrosaur advances on him slowly, taking enough time with its prowl forwards while Angler lies prone that the Umpire calls the end of the match.
Ferrosaur reaches down and picks up Angler in its mouth. The Umpire shouts to Trainer Bygones to restrain it, but Ferrosaur refuses to listen to commands as it begins to throw Angler’s limp form around the Arena like a chew toy. Fortunately, it responds to an anaesthetic dart from the handling team, who rush in to extract Angler and carry him off for medical attention.
She looks up, around at the stands - waves to some of her fellow SPAM members, who let out tentative cheers. Most of them look more afraid than she does.
Then, she looks to the Umpire, and to the box where the senior Network staff sit, makes sure all eyes are on her, and…sits down.
Calm and cross-legged, right in the middle of the Arena, staring up at Annhilatron.
“Well, like Monster, like Trainer,” the Commentator calls. “Square Peg's clearly trying the Pork Scratchings forfeit strategy here! All she's doing is making it easy for Annhilatron, though. We're not going to start the countdown unless the gladiator is actually incapacitated, or the Monster stops moving.”
Annhilatron advances, shears slicing the air. It rears up, showing off to the crowd.
A few metres from Square Peg, Annhilatron grinds to a halt. Its shears snap at the air - and only at the air. Square Peg spreads her arms, then lowers her hands, slowly, to the ground.
Annhilatron follows suit, all its blades folding and drooping.
From the sidelines, Executioner shouts at it, and it looks around, leans its head forward as if in a nod of acknowledgement. The Arena holds its breath.
Annhilatron begins moving again. It lurches towards Square Peg, then…turns, rumbling and grinding, and begins making its way back to its holding pen.
Executioner shoos it back in, and it heads back to Square Peg, who looks up at it again and says, simply, “Stay!”
Annhilatron stays.
It stays ten seconds. The Umpire doesn't start counting them down immediately - apparently too surprised - but the SPAM members in the crowd do, and the rest of the audience join in. At the end of the countdown, Square Peg stands up, grins at the Umpire, and walks calmly out of the Arena.
“A CLASH OF TITANS! Will Basilica's rock-solid defence stand up to Annhilatron's deadly blades?”
Annhilatron clacks and snaps its gleaming blades in the air, turning to look around the Arena. Basilica marches towards it; Annhilatron turns and…bows?
Blades cleave the air, waving but not attacking. Both Trainers shout instructions to attack from the sidelines. Basilica raises one of her huge legs as Angler calls “Stomp!”. Annhilatron, despite Executioner's gesticulation, snaps its shears closed - on thin air - and extends the sheathed blades gently towards Basilica.
“Is it trying to…shake hands…?”
The commentator's bemused analysis of the situation is drowned out by the crashing clang of Basilica slamming into Annhilatron. The force of her stomping kick crushes and bends several of Annhilatron's blades, and the mighty metal monster rears back, screeching in pain and shock.
It folds in on itself, clutching its injured extremities close, and keens robotically, but still makes no move to fight back. It manages to parry several blows, the sharp edges of its blades scoring cuts on Basilica even though Annhilatron is only fighting defensively, but none of them sink deep - it clearly isn't even trying to seriously wound Basilica.
It tries to dodge, but while its blades are swift, it still has a lot of bulk to move, and lumbering as Basilica is, she still manages to land kick after kick on the cringing, keening Annhilatron, denting and warping its body until it can barely move.
Annhilatron huddles submissively, Basilica slamming blows into it until the Umpire calls time and Angler calls his monster off.
The crowd erupt in cheers and jeers as the Arena doors open to reveal the sleek, edgy, and… slightly larger form of Dark Steel. Opposite, the doors open to reveal another wall covered in limpets, groyne-bearing arms poking forward ready to move.
Blade's fanbase are out in full support today, alongside a hard core of haters, and the noise reaches a fever pitch. The fans begin a chant - GIGA SLASH! GIGA SLASH! GIGA SLASH! It's clear how they want this match to end even before it begins.
The two monsters move forward into the Arena, waiting for the referee's signal to begin. Bulwark flexes its gigantic crustacean-encrusted arms and the light within the lighthouse quietly begins to spin. Dark Steel dashes forward and assumes a ready stance.
“Blade, are you ready?” A nod in response.
“Cam, are you ready?” A crack of the neck and a thumbs-up.
“Well then, these monsters need no further introduction - LET THE FIGHT BEGIN!” The announcer's voice is almost drowned by the cheering from the crowd as Bulwark starts lumbering forwards, while Blade begins circling, patiently.
The crowd's chanting continues, but it seems that Dark Steel isn't winding up for a fight-ending special move right away, which is probably quite a wise tactic considering Bulwark's heavy protection. Instead, Dark Steel unleashes a steady stream of mid-power attacks that are ablated or deflected by the sea wall it's facing down.
“Looks like Dark Steel's bashing its head off a wall with this one, fight fans! Can anything break through that impenetrable barrier? Does Dark Steel have anything better to throw at Bulwark?”
Though it remains uninjured, Bulwark is clearly getting agitated, and its movements become more strained. Cam can see the slow chip damage that's being done to the wall, and knows that their monster is in pain, and starts commanding Bulwark to maneuver round, trying to corner Dark Steel.
Dark Steel doesn't seem to realise this, heading further back towards the Arena walls while trying to keep his distance. The crowd jeers, hoping to see the hopeful get taken down in one of Bulwark's signature crushing attacks.
“Bulwark's got Dark Steel up against the ropes! Is it going to - yes! There it goes!”
Like a tidal wave moving inexorably across the Arena floor, Bulwark begins to accelerate, pick up speed, and charges at Dark Steel. Dark Steel backs up further, but hits the Arena wall, and turns back to face the onrushing behemoth.
“Surely there's no way out now! Dark Steel's going to take a hell of a smashing!”
Bulwark hits top speed and closes the distance incredibly quickly, until - with a deafening thud, a tremor rocks through the entire Arena and Bulwark hits the Arena wall where Dark Steel was standing, uncountable tons of rock smashing into each other. A dust cloud billows up, and as it clears the fans cheer wildly as behind Bulwark, Dark Steel spins on one foot and begins to focus.
“Was that a SHADOW STEP? I thought for sure it was too late! Either way, Dark Steel wasn't there to be hit, and seems to be readying something…”
The crowd starts resuming its chant as Blade steps forward and points to Bulwark's now exposed underside as the huge monster attempts to recover, dazed, from the impact.
The announcer, audience, and Blade shout as one.
“GIGASLASH!”
Dark Steel, fully charged, unleashes a wave of force directly into Bulwark's underside. The huge monster shudders and cries out, a foghorn echoing across the Arena as the force cuts deep. But Dark Steel isn't done. Another Gigaslash follows quickly, and then another, and then another, another, another, and another. The announcer goes quiet, losing themselves in the moment, as the crowd go wild. Cam is screaming from the box, and Blade grins, wildly, and the referee calls the match.
“…fight fans, I don't know what to say. Is Bulwark dead? Dark Steel has carved its initials into its underbelly - yes, a very distinct D and S is visible as the Arena technicians flood in…”
Cam runs down into the Arena, and pleads with their monster to respond, but Bulwark does not. Slowly, the light of the lighthouse stops turning, and goes dark.
“PEOPLE OF BASTION!” comes the voice of guest commentator, Noggin', “This is an extraordinary fight we have for you today: two paragons of the Lightweight League: one who has been a titan of the sub-titanic for several seasons now, and one who is relatively new. So on one hand we have a team of joy and companionship: a Monster and Trainer who work together in near symbiosis, who get each other and understand each other. Ones truly to watch this Season as they near the coveted Lightweight Champion position: IT'S DEATHBREATH, TRAINED BY CHASER!!”
The crowd cheers as out from the North Gate bounces the pink balloonoid Deathbreath, its big sad eyes glancing around before it hops down into the maze of the Arena floor.
“And from the South Gate,” Noggin' continues, “We have a dastardly duo: trained for evil, with hopes to one day destroy the Arena and all we hold dear as a good upstanding folk, challenging the righteous and hopeful Chaser and Deathbreath we have PEPPER, TRAINED BY SAFFRON!!”
Out from the South Gate scurries the tiny Pepper at lightning fast speed. The crowd start cheering, but a crescendo of booing inspired by Noggin's words takes hold instead, and the response to Pepper is decidedly mixed. Saffron shouts out a protest but Noggin' ignores her.
“LET'S GET READY TO FIGHT!” he shouts, “Today's Arena layout has been organised by Spur on behalf of MAXIMUM TASTE'S MONSTER HOUSE, and it's sure to make things interesting. Chaser, are you ready?”
“Yes!”
“Saffron?”
“Actually I-”
“Great, then on THREE, TWO, ONE, LET BATTLE COMMENCE!!”
The fight starts, and Deathbreath bounces into the maze, giving Pepper no choice but to follow. Pepper attempts to knock through the walls but-
“Oh now come Pepper, that's not very sporting!” calls Noggin', “Saffron what is your Monster playing at? Dear oh dear! Come ooon!”
Saffron is seen shouting but the sound of Noggin's commentary makes it impossible to hear, and it seems neither can Pepper. Oh dear. Still, on her own Pepper is a formidable opponent, and she zips around the maze at lightning fast speed compared to Deathbreath who bounces along at a leisurely pace, but without a clear line of sight, Pepper is unable to use her fire spikes attack.
“Oooh and what's this?” calls Noggin', “Looks like Deathbreath is starting to breathe heavily, flooding the arena with that delicious deadly miasma. How will Pepper cope? What will she do? Is she aware it's going through the walls? Maybe she'll use one of her famous special moves, but will it be enough? Did you know the last time the Arena was set up as a maze was in Season 33 when Groundpounder smashed its way through, which brought on Amendment 8,982 on destruction of labyrinthine constructs in the Arena…”
Noggin' continues to ramble on providing a deafening non-stop commentary on just about everything in sight. Pepper continues to zip through the maze, looking for her opponent, and the fans start to wonder why she isn't self-immolating or using her death ball move, and they look to Saffron, who can be seen with both hands cupping the sides of her mouth, hollering words that are simply drowned out by Noggin's noise. Saffron's fans are dismayed and start shouting against Noggin' but their noise only makes it even harder for Saffron to be heard by Pepper, who is dutifully awaiting her owner's call to action.
Some sat near Chaser swear they hear her mutter “fooled by her own obedience,” but very little can be heard over the clamour of the Arena as Pepper desperately tries to navigate the walls to find Deathbreath which happily hops around, spreading its deadly breath. Pepper rounds a corner, and finally she spots Deathbreath. Her fur bristles with spines for the attack, and she fires a scorching barrage toward Deathbreath who only just jumps out of the way and around a corner. Frustrated, Pepper charges forward but she falls foul of a well-disguised trap and plunges into a pit of water. Pepper is livid, and the water steams off her as she lays chase, but by now the toxic miasma, which has been filtering through the strange material of the walls, has flooded the maze. Pepper holds her breath, the audience hold their breath, but she starts to sway from side to side before falling over unconscious.
“AND THERE YOU HAVE IT!” calls Noggin', “DEATHBREATH IS VICTORIOUS!”
The crowd goes wild, and Arena technicians bring out giant tubes to start draining the miasma from the Arena as Chaser and Saffron go to see their Monsters. Such a decisive victory has clearly come at whatever cost it took to set up the Arena, and the realisation of this has Saffron's jaw set very tightly as she heads to inspect Pepper. She's lying on the floor very much out of it, but all seems to be fine. Chaser checks on Deathbreath while Maximum Taste takes the opportunity from the side to start advertising his new deal.
“…AND IF YOU COLLECT A COMPLETE ROW, BRING YOUR COMPLETE PLAY MAT TO ANY MONSTER HOUSE TO CLAIM YOUR PRIZE…”
But the audience isn't listening, they're paying attention to something glowing in the centre of the Arena. Saffron has her arms around Pepper, but lets go as Pepper…
“PEPPER IS EVOLVING???” calls Noggin'.
Pepper is evolving, and in the bright light, the weaselly shape of Pepper grows, her dark red fur becoming longer, fluffed into pristine spikes all along her beefier body. Her eyes become sharper, and her snout grows a little, and she grins with razor sharp teeth.
“INTO… PAPRIKA?” Noggin' suggests, but the audience is fascinated as the evolved Pepper drops to the ground and surveys around. Saffron is in adoration, but Pepper's eyes move past her to the stands where:
“…AND IF YOU COLLECT ALL THE CULINARY PROPERTIES THEN YOU'LL WIN A FREE MONSTER HOUSE BIG MAX MEAL, IF YOU COLLECT…”
Evolved Pepper runs, her eyes on her target, and jumps into the air, her eyes focussed.
“…YOU'LL WIN A CASH PRIZE OF NINEAAAAAAARRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!”
Pepper locks her jaws on Maximum Taste's arm. He waves it frantically “GET IT OFF! GET IT OFF!” and Saffron shouts, “No! Bad Pepper!” and she lets go. Max is immediately ushered out of the Arena by medics, and followed by Chaser. Saffron shrugs when questioned, “I'm sure she didn't mean it!” but Maximum Taste fans don't seem so sure…
“And here we have WRECKATAR, owned by PENNYTHRIFT STEEPLE, the tenacious and astonishingly un-eaten Trainer of THE TENT.”
In the Trainer's box, Pennythrift Steeple stands up, removes his black top hat, and bows deeply. He is wearing a smart suit and a black cape with embroided gold stars and “P&S” letters, the logo of Progress & Steeple's Beetle Circus. His moustaches are impressively long, shiny, and twirled like corkscrews.
Pennythrift twirls his moustaches and flourishes his cape. The audience laughs as the Arena doors open to reveal Wreckatar wearing a matching circus cape, though not matching moustaches.
“Marvellous! Now, since his change of owner, WRECKATAR has defeated Longbow, a came-from-behind darling of the Doubles! Then he proved his mettle by matching metal against the heroic, magnificent Knight-Mare! And, last week, audiences were wowed by Wreckatar's victory against the indefatigable feathered fury and Fan Favourite, Howling Terror!
“But does Season XXXV's Lightweight Champion really have what it takes to enter the Heavyweight Alpha Division? Will the wrecking ball finally slam to a stop? Will DOOMIGATOR do as well with its new Trainer? Or has it hit the bottom of the toxic sludge barrel?
“Hold onto your seats, everyone. I'm UNFILTERED, and I'm excited!
“ALL RIGHT! The Umpire has given the signal. It's TOXIC LIZARD CANNON versus ROLLING LIZARD BALL! Commence! And - ah! - Pennythrift rips the cape off Wreckatar at the last minute! That's showmanship!
“Right. As expected, that's quite a jet from Doomigator's barrels… and a good dodge for Wreckatar. Using a rolling ball move to get out of the way of the sludge - I like it. But Doomigator's not slow either.
“This is quite the game of cat and mouse - another near-miss. Oo - a change of tack from Wreckatar, as it decides to engage, and - ooof! Doomigator picks itself back up, but do I spy a misaligned barrel there?
“Either way, the cannonspew and those biiiig jaws are enough to keep Wreckatar on its tails and its toes! Another WRECKING BALL move, knocking cement from the wall, and giving Doomigator another blow… and it's knocked out! The Umpire is counting down…
“HAHA! And your victor is WRECKATAR! What a show! Remember, everyone, GIANT MONSTER LIZARDS are what the Heavyweights are all about. Mr Pennythrift Steeple, you've shown yourself a true ringmaster. Would you like to say some words?”
The sharply-suited Pennythrift gives a whirl of his cape.
“Yes, thank you, thank you, thank you. As you can see, as lovable as our little reptilian bouncy ball is, we're not just here to win a few fights, win some hearts and then call it quits. Wreckatar is here to win the whole shebang! Glad you enjoyed the show, and head to the Beetle Circus to catch more performances from your favourite Monsters!”
Unfiltered takes the microphone again.
“Fantastic, fantastic, all right, that's all we have time for. We'll be having a break while the technicians carry out some emergency repairs, so go buy your Monster plushies on your way to the toilet queues, and join me again in twenty minutes…”
It concentrates, furrows in on itself, and then fires a spurt of glistening red jam, arcing across the Arena to spatter across Strike's head and shoulders, staggering him.
He recovers quickly, and charges in. More jam splats wetly to the floor around him, and he skids in it as he runs, crashing to the floor. Powersliding across the jam-smeared ground, he leaps back to his feet, and swings his axe.
There is a mass intake of breath across the stands as the axe whistles through the air. Then, just as it seems about to cut Doughball in two, Strike stops his swing, twirling the axe flamboyantly through the air instead, and then throwing it away with a flourish.
He launches himself at the doughnut, clearly intending on fighting it hand-to-hand. Or, at least, hand to…sprinkles?
Doughball is not prepared for this - all it can do is squirm as Strike wrestles it to the ground, and confirms his dominance by taking a bite out of it.
Doughball subsides into stillness, Strike sitting on top of it, ignoring its occasional spurts of jam - he's already completely soaked.
“AND THE WINNER IS…STRIKE!”
Strike waves to the crowd; and makes to stand up. Max Taste heads into the Arena to retrieve his monster, picking his way carefully around the sticky, jammy patches all over the floor.
The doughnut under Strike shifts. Swells. Grows.
Thrown off-balance, he trips and stumbles away - just in time to avoid the flames that suddenly spring out of Doughball, as sixteen flaming candles sprout from its back.
“What's that? Doughnu- sorry, Doughball - is evolving? AGAIN??!”
The doughnut swells, shifts. A white shell, with pretty piped edges, spreads across its surface. The candles embedded in the surface of the perfectly iced, man-height birthday cake flicker.
It bounces, turns, and catches sight of Max Taste coming towards it. Its eyes light up, and it leaps towards him. Max opens his arms to welcome his monster.
The two halves of the cake peel apart; jagged, toothy shards of royal icing framing the red, jammy maw.
It lunges, sinking its sugary teeth into Max's thigh.
Max screams.
Strike leaps up, grabbing his discarded axe from the floor, and runs after the cake. He smashes the butt of the axe into the cake, knocking it away from Max.
Then, as the dazed cake rights itself, Strike grabs Max and runs.
The cake gives chase, and Strike sweeps Max into his arms, bolting across the Arena as a technician steps forward with a dose of Xenon, ready to subdue the rampaging birthday cake.
There is some sniffling over the microphone.
“Well, what better way to honour his memory than with the things he loved most: MONSTER BATTLING! Today we have a fight between two heavyweight titans: first out of the gates, there’s no preparing yourself for, Shock And Awe!”
Shock and Awe gallops into the Arena. The mechanical Monster’s torso is roughly humanoid, but it’s lower half is equine with four legs ending in tires. A long metal whip extends from one arm, and as it cracks it there is a boom like thunder and lightning sparks along it. On its shoulders are two large batteries of rockets.
“Opposing them, the giant lizard whom we’ve all woken up to this season after it slept through the last: Dozer!”
Dozer races out of the pens. The heavyset lizard is covered in think armoured hide, and it stomps about as it scents the air. Dozer gives a deep bass roar before starting to stomp it’s way towards Shock-And-Awe.
“Wow it looks like Dozer is really raring to go for this one. Alright then, ready, set, FIGHT!”
Shock And Awe cracks it’s whip and races towards Dozer. Lightning flashes across Dozer’s iron hide but the great lizard takes no notice and barrels into Shock-And-Awe. The scrape of claws against metal rings through the Arena, and the crowd roars with excitement.
Shock And Awe manages to heave Dozer away, and rolls back, great holes rent in it’s metal chassis. From the Trainer’s Platform Terravolt screams at their monster to use the rocket launchers.
With a mighty roar Dozer lowers its head and begins pawing the ground with one claw.
Beam gasps, “is that… Bulldozer’s BULLDOZE attack? Has Dozer succeed in mastering one of the legendary special attacks of UMBA’s past?”
Dozer charges Shock And Awe. The shoulder mounted rocket launchers come out and a volley of missiles explodes streak out towards Dozer. They strike the ground kicking up debris, and several explode across Dozer armoured hide. Dozer bounds out of the cloud of flame and debris, catching Shock and Awe on it’s head and carrying it bodily towards the Arena wall.
They smash into the wall with a force that shakes the Arena. Shock and Awe comes apart under the force of the impact, torso separating from it’s equine legs in a shower of sparks and metal. The two chunks of monster are flung lifeless to the Arena floor.
“My… what a fight. Dozer wins! Dozer wins!”
Beam is interrupted as the Arena shakes again. It seems Dozer isn’t done. The great lizard roars and smashes it’s head into the walls.
Suture can be seen trying to calm the beast but to no avail. The usually peaceful Dozer seems to have gone completely berserk.
In a gunshot and a cloud of Xenon Dozer stumbles, before slowly slumping to the ground.
“Well, ” Beam laughs nervously. “I think this was one match I wasn’t expecting to see Dozer asleep at the end of.” Which gets a laugh out of the crowd. “Let's all give our victor a very quite round of applause. And commiserations to the fallen Monster Shock And Awe and it’s trainer Terravolt. Shock And Awe will always be with us, as all Monsters that fall in the Arena are, and Terravolt, I think we all hope to see you next season with a New Monster!”
A platform rises from the dark ground of the Arena, which has been set up to have a night sky theme. Spots of light flit across the set like shooting stars and one spotlight swings down to focus on the raised platform, upon which is a pyramid of Rollerpedes. The swimsuit has been trimmed down and made into tiny red and white jackets which create an alternating design in the formation - the audience makes an appreciative noise as they rearrange themselves to form new patterns.
“Don't they look great, folks? And now, let's greet their competition… it's GEARBOX!”
A second platform lifts, a second spotlight swings down to illuminate… nothing. There is no Monster present. The crowd murmurs in confusion, but the Commentator's voice cuts through it.
“Um… bear with us, everyone! Just let me check… Gearbox didn't arrive to the Arena? Dashboard isn't around to comment? Ah. Well then.” They continue muttering something about unreliable Trainers, and even the Umpire seems a little lost as to what to do next.
Fortunately, Morose Progress takes the opportunity to leap into the Arena, where he issues a command to the Rollerpedes.
They respond immediately, forming up into long chains of alternating red and white beetles, then abseiling down the raised platform and swarming across the Arena floor in wide, colourful spirals.
The Commentator stops their anxious muttering to watch the display. “Well, would you look at that? It seems that the Rollerpedes are putting on a half time show for us! What finesse! What ingenuity!”
In the night sky setting of the Arena, the swirling formations of Rollerpedes look like flares. They dance around their Trainer in increasingly complex patterns, always following the spotlights, and the audience begins to clap along to set a beat.
“What a performance!” the Commentator cries. “Hey, can we bring Victory Viper out to join in? No? It's not in its pen? And Zephyr is crying? Huh. Okay. Never mind.”
As the performance draws to a close, the Rollerpedes form up into a tower. It sways precariously as more of the beetles pile on top, but with a bit of encouragement they hold the form.
One tiny beetle clambers on top, and the audience members watching through binoculars see it rear up onto its back legs and then take a bow. The crowd goes wild, and the Rollerpedes reform into a ground-based swarm around their Trainer to the sound of rapturous applause.
“Well, it's a shame we didn't get an actual battle, but I'm sure you'll agree that this display made everything worth it! Thank you all for attending, and thank you Rollerpedes for putting on such a show!”
Thorn pulls back, and tries again, Hard as Nails zig-zagging across the Arena. It gradually grows closer and closer to Thorn, even as Thorn's lighting-swift strikes herd it back and forth across the Arena, gradually backing it into a corner.
Some of Thorn's strikes have hit home - glancing blows that pull threads loose from Hard as Nail's body. When the sock pauses, cornered, it's frayed and wild-looking, covered in ragged little tears, and plenty of Thorn's spikes have blue strands caught on them.
Thorn lashes out again - slightly slower now, the effort of the fight taking its toll. Hard as Nails lunges, spinning low to launch a devastating punch to the joint, where the lifted tentacle has exposed Thorn's body.
“Oooohhhh, that's got to hurt!” exclaims the commentator. “Soft underbelly, there - it's a shame Thistle hasn't got her monster trained to protect it better. Let's see if Thorn can recover from that!”
Bowled backwards, and keening painfully, Thorn struggles to its feet. It's hurt, but it's not out of the fight yet.
Both tired and injured, though, it's visibly slower now, and battered though it is, Hard as Nails shows no sign of letting up. The two monsters batter each other across the Arena, Thorn shredding away at Hard as Nails, Nails dodging, ducking, and finally plunging past Thorn's guard.
The back and forth is long and tense - both monsters seem intent on wearing each other down, and while Hard as Nails hits harder when it lands a blow and Thorn's hits are glancing, there are more of them.
Thorn gets slower and slower, though, and Hard as Nails is relentless. More and more, the sock manages to force its way past its opponent's guard, and Thorn takes longer to recover from each blow, until finally it simply lies there, exhausted, beaten, and twitching, leaving Hard as Nails victorious.
The commentator - a Creative Branch intern on her first real job - does her best to work up excitement in the crowd, but doesn't seem to be able to convince even herself. And that's before she's shouted down by the slogans being yelled by the SPAM members in the stands - about the only people to turn out for a match between two monsters both renowned for the strategy of Not Actually Fighting.
Both of them have had their exciting moments, to be fair; but there are still not too many people who consider the outside chance of unexpected gladiatorial battles or sawdust explosions worth the price of entry.
And, indeed, the Umpire counts the fight in, and both competitors sit, perfectly still, in the centre of the Arena.
“10 - 9 - 8 - 7 - 6 - 5 - 4 - 3 - 2 - WAIT-”
The Inertianator shudders, rocks, teetering just far enough to pause the countdown. It shakes, there's a faint whining sound, and then, in a puff of sawdust, a small cube of wood flies out of it up into the air. As the little block falls back to earth on the far side of the Arena, the sawdust retreats back inside the larger cube of Inertianator's body. The monster shivers and settles, smugly, back into stillness.
Pork Scratchings hasn't moved, and by now its ten seconds have well and truly passed.
“And the winner is…INERTIANATOR!”
”…I'm sorry.”
“Fist out of the gates we have Socket and Serpenticon, everyone give these newcomers an UMBA welcome!”
Socket strides into the Arena, bowing and waving reveling in the crowd’s adoration. The portcullis opens and beneath her Serpenticon slithers into the Arena. The enormous snake is made of many segmented metal rings, linked by an array of servos and pneumatic tubes. It has a fan of metal blades about it’s head and neck.
“Next, one of this seasons favourites, everyone give it up for Mechagraviton!”
Mechagraviton levitates into the Arena. It straightens out into an upright posture and there is a sudden wave of pressure that sweeps through the Arena as it begins to ascend. The Archeotech wheel behind it’s back blazes and spits fat sparks of purple plasma. The crowd’s excitement reaches fever pitch as Mechagraviton gets higher and higher.
“Oh my!” Gasps Beam. “Looks like Mechagraviton is the first truly flying monster this season.”
Socket can be seen scowling as the crowd’s attention is drawn away from Serpenticon.
“Three. Two. One. Fight!” Yells Beam.
“Objection!” Asterisk shouts immediately, the small rules lawyer taking the stage. “This is clearly unfair. It goes completely against the spirit of Ultimate Monster Battle Arena to have a ability that so clearly limits the possibility for carnage!”
Down in the Arena circles it’s old foe from below. Floating well out of it’s reach the metal snake seems confused as to what to do.
Yarn walks up next to Asterisk, grabbing the mike. “I object to your objection! It has always been UMBA’s policy to allow a Monster to shine for its special ability. People of Bastion will you tolerate this blatant disregard of Amendment 567, 672 and 2406? Heck no you won’t!”
Socket yells commands down at it and Serpenticon grabs a rock in its mouth. It raises its tail high and with a pneumatic hiss a metal spike sinks into the ground.
“Hah! Says Yarn the hypocrite.Champion of the underdog? Yeah right! Tell me since when is Mechagraviton an underdog - how many matches has Crash lost this season again? And what is this, two matches in a row you’re on Serpenticon’s case? Apparently Yarn has no problem with representing one of the top contenders for Champion against someone who’s lost every match this season! And what was your other project, Omega? Yeah, how many fights has she lost?”
There are a few boos, a few calls of hypocrite from the crowd. The Umpire seems less swayed by the argument though.
Mechagraviton makes a swatting motion and a wave of force ripples through the Arena. The rock’s trajectory suddenly changes, bending down towards ground. It picks up speed at an astonishing rate before crashing down with earth-shattering force. The whole Arena rumbles and Serpenticon is thrown about, only held down by it’s pile driver tail.
“And how exactly is a personal attack on your opponent relevant to your case, Asterisk? People of Bastion, the rules of UMBA are clear, there is no reason why Mechagraviton should not be allowed to make best use of it’s talents! I rest my case!”
Mechagraviton clenches one claw and reaches up towards the sky. Around Serpenticon debris begins to raise into the sky. The metal snake’s upper body begins to extend upwards, though it remains pinned to the ground by its tail. After a moment it hangs taught like a rope, struggling not to fall into the sky.
“Alright people! The Umpire’s decision has come down! Asterix makes the excellent point that having no upper limit is detrimental to the quality of matches involving flying monsters with ranged abilities however UMBA endeavours to let each Monster shine for its special abilities and . The compromise is now the 10,049th amendment to the rules of Ultimate Monster Battle Arena: a Monster that goes above a height of 237.7 feet will be disqualified!”
The crowd seems… satisfied with the compromise, and they turn their attention back to the fight.
Mechagraviton gestures again, and a crushing pressure ripples through the air. Serpenticon falls as if slapped back to earth by an angry god, smashing into rock and sand.
Even as Serpenticon begins to right itself there is another wave of pressure, and it is pulled taught again. Over and over, Mechagraviton stretches and slams it’s opponent, the cycles becoming faster and faster. Cogs and wheels fly from the mechanical snake as it is beaten repeatedly. The whistle blows and the Umpire calls the match.
“Mechagraviton wins! Mechagraviton wins!” Yells beam.
The crowd explodes with applause.
“IN THIS CASE: MESH VERSUS MOROSE PROGRESS, PENNYTHRIFT STEEPLE, SOUTHPAW AND LEDA ATOMICA, THISTLE, TODO LIST, BAD STAR, SPROCKET, CRASH, SAFFRON, ARCH, ANGLER, DR FROST, SUTURE, STRIKE, TREND, ASH MOON, MALBEC, PARADIGM, CHASER, GINTRAP, AND DYNAMITE, THE DEFENDANTS ARE REPRESENTED BY STRAW OF THE CREATIVE BRANCH, AND THE PLAINTIFF REPRESENTS THEMSELVES.”
The crowd roars in confusion and approval, and there's a banging on a large bell, “ROUND ONE, COMMENCE. PLAINTIFF, YOU HAVE THE FLOOR!!!”
Mesh begins, “People of Bastion! I come here as a greatly aggrieved Monster Trainer, who is currently experiencing a growing fine I cannot hope to prevent, through no fault of my own. My Monster, METROVORE, was peacefully standing outside the city when it was assaulted with MUSIC and POETRY and FICTION and ACTUAL WEAPONRY which every member of the defence had specifically planned to use to damage my Monster. METROVORE was incapable of withstanding such an assault, and lies, crumpled, outside the city, incapable of attending its Arena Fight - a fact for which a 9R charge is building every day. What's more, the attack on METROVORE has caused incredible damage to a number of Monsters, as well as Network property, that has simply not been repaid. I estimate the damages to be covered if each defendant pays 50R, which will be split between myself and the Network.”
Straw takes the floor, “You cannot truly expect us to believe that the people who worked in the defence of Bastion are guilty of some crime, can you, Mesh? METROVORE threatened the city with destruction, which would have left you liable for hundreds of thousands of Riel worth of damage, and THESE BRAVE INDIVIDUALS worked together to prevent that.”
“OBJECTION!” shouts Mesh, “you can't prove METROVORE was intending to destroy the city!”
“Yes I can,” replies Straw, “METROVORE pronounced that the city would be annihilated if it didn't show signs of culture - which it did.”
“Can you prove that was METROVORE?”
“I… um… no. Point withdrawn.”
The bell rings, “ROUND ONE TO MESH!” and the crowd whoops. There's a short pause, as Straw consults with their advisors, while Mesh is seen consulting with Ada, before the commentary strikes up again, a bell rings and “ROUND TWO COMMENCES! Straw, you have the floor.”
“Thank you. The defence would like to begin with the note that over half of these named individuals caused no physical damage to METROVORE. Their displays of culture were as peaceful as Mesh claims METROVORE to have been, and so they cannot be held responsible. The defence seeks that the case be dropped against anyone who did not cause physical harm to METROVORE.”
Mesh responds, “These displays may have been peaceful, but I have evidence that they were conspiring to prevent METROVORE from advancing on the city, which prevented it from entering the Arena with KRYSTALKORPION, meaning a great loss in terms of merchandise, ticket sales, and revenue from the postponed match. The prosecution refuses to drop perhaps the greater damage of this case.”
“Don't be ridiculous,” shouts Straw, “That thing would never have fit in the Arena!”
“Objection,” calls out Ada, “you have no evidence for that.”
“What? It's clearly bigger than-”
“It could shrink. You don't know it can't.”
“Ooooooh” shouts the crowd, and the Commentator rings a bell again: finding in favour of MESH having won two rounds in a row. The crowds cheer at this, and there's a drumroll as the fee is announced.
“Each defendant must pay 25R to Mesh, and 25R to the Finance Branch of the Network. Since all defendants will be present at the next League Conference, payment may be made then. This decision is final, and a condition of the defendants' continued presence in the League. Further, the 9R per day fine will continue to build until KRYSTALKORPION vs METROVORE is resolved, and the final total will be payable by the defence when that total is confirmed.”
Mesh leaves, smugly victorious, as Finance Secretaries begin drafting letters to the defence, informing them of their newfound financial obligations.
Murk, meanwhile, plods stolidly in, and makes what could be the start of a lap to display himself to the crowd, but is more likely … yes, the commentator confirms, he's heading for the hotdog stand in the lower rows of seating, just over there. There's derisive laughter from the stands, though Noggin' leaps quickly in to defend his monster, and even the hardcore MonoChrome fans seem to see the cuter side of Murk's peaceful single-mindedness.
Then the fight proper begins, as MonoChrome gets down to business, charging for Murk, who sidesteps, and sticks out a hoof to trip the sheep. MonoChrome stumbles, rolls, and bounces back to its feet. It goes for Murk again, and this time the hairy monster is just too slow to evade. It's tossed in the air, and lands, looking afronted, in a sprawl.
Murk scrambles to his feet, and dodges another charge from MonoChrome. Then, he looks, consideringly, at the sheep, and apparently comes to a realization. He turns, and starts running.
MonoChrome gives chase, but it quickly becomes apparent that deadly as his smashing charges might be, the sheep is far slower than the yak over distance. Soon, they're running laps around the Arena, MonoChrome falling gradually further behind.
Smatterings of laughter come from across the stands, as Murk jogs along, hair swinging.
Noggin' steps up to the mic set aside for Rules Lawyering; and begins a back-and-forth with the commentator, both narrating the foot-race between them. The laughter builds, though now people are clearly amused more by the repartee than by Murk's apparent cowardice.
MonoChrome is growing visibly tired by now, as the two monsters hit their tenth lap. Murk draws further and further ahead, until he's almost lapping MonoChrome. Now, if the sheep just turned round…
But its trainer, staring blankly out at the scene, doesn't seem to have noticed the opportunity. Murk comes up behind MonoChrome, and bellows suddenly - the sheep jumps, startled, spins around, and stumbles. It tries to charge, but it's off-balance and exhausted, and Murk easily side-steps. Repeating his earlier tactic, he trips the sheep, and it crashes to the floor, too tired to stand back up.
“Well, that was…certainly an unconventional match! Poor showing there from Malbec - poor girl, she's really nothing like her father, is she? Fun to watch, though, wasn't it?” There's cheering from all across the stands; both Malbec's fans and Noggins.
Murk, fight over, wanders again in the direction of the hotdog stand, and Noggin' dashes down to corral his monster.
“And, the final points are in! That's a win to Noggin' and Murk, though, I think…yes, yes, a Style point to both competitors!”
The crowds cheer regardless, much as they would for a half time show, and with Sprocket and Arch in the stands cheering this behaviour on, it's only a threat from the Umpire that if neither party takes some aggressive action soon, persuasion will be brought into the Arena, that causes Friendly Fire to eventually lie down and take a blow from the Nyoominator, only just strong enough to knock it over, and then artfully parks itself next to a street sign.
The Umpire sighs and declares Nyoominator the winner of a lacklustre fight, but just as Sprocket is about to collect their winnings from the match, a Network Rules Lawyer pipes up and points out that the Nyoominator is parked next to a sign which reads “NO PARKING”. There's some laughter from the crowd, until it's ruled that this means the Nyoominator must pay a 30R parking fine, meaning Sprocket comes away with nothing. The crowd, many behind Sprocket, start to get angry at this, shouting in protest, but the Umpire and the Network lawyers walk away from the match and let the anger simmer rather than confronting it.
The Umpire is The Howl, and the commentator is Ferrocious Ferra, who introduces Slaymatron and Omega with glee.
“Someone is going to get sheared!” she declares, describing Slaymatron's whirring chainsaw of blades and Omega's seven-foot 'Death Scythe', as the promotional materials are calling it.
As soon as The Howl commences the fight, Omega is moving more than quickly. She uses her familiar movement harness, plus a new harness. This one doesn't aid in movement, but comprises transparent plastic tubing strapped across the black armour of her chest - though there appear to be a few more plates of armour than previously. Sparking wiring is visible inside the tubes, and the audience gasps as blue jets of fire are emitted from a few points.
The first jets are just for show. When Omega closes with Slaymatron, the jets of fire hit her opponent's armour for real, leaving circular smoky marks.
The two are reasonably well matched as they duel. They land blows and parry for some minutes before Omega, with a tactical feint and a well-calculated burst of speed, lands a solid hit on Slaymatron's chest.
Slaymatron's armour cracks, and it falls. It's strong, however, and pulls itself up, swinging its chainsaw. Omega has to use the movement harness again to jump back and find a new angle.
“Aha!” calls Ferra. “Will this self-declared 'Monster' live up to its bold claim to be monstrous? Perhaps it's lucky and Slaymatron is still softened by THE TENT!”
A minute later, Slaymatron is on the floor again, rolling over from its back to its front.
It's apparent that, like a writhing human, Slaymatron isn't going to lie still until it's knocked out. It's dragging itself away from Omega.
Omega darts in. Slaymatron raises its chainsaw, but slowly. Omega's scythe shears through it, and the appendage falls onto the ground beside Slaymatron. Slaymatron twists, trying to reach the chainsaw, but Omega kicks the chainsaw away, and lands a head blow. Slaymatron deflates, clearly knowing it's beaten. It flops, but not onto its back; it turns itself to face the archway through which it entered. Sprite isn't in her Trainer's box anymore; she's standing on the sand, and her mouth is open in a mirror of her Monster's mouth.
Slaymatron passes out. The countdown begins, and The Howl declares Omega the victor.
“The match is concluded! I guess this 'Monster' deserves its place in the Championships - quite a monstrosity, isn't it?” sneers Ferrocious Ferra. “And look, Sprite is already down there! Omega is still standing, and holding her plasma sword; as per usual, the poor handlers will have to come out.”
The lighting fixes on Sprite. There are tears running down her face.
Ferra continues in a kindly tone.
“Fondness for a metal humanoid with an inseparable chainsaw for one arm isn't exactly my cup of tea, but we can all sympathise with Sprite's plight. Let's hope Tatters apologises to her.”
She brightens up and cheery music starts, obscuring the sound of Xenon darts from the Arena floor.
“On the same topic, I've started a fundraiser. Cheer up, Sprite - there'll be a collection box next to the main stairway on the first floor as we all exit, and donors of over 1000 kyat will receive a FREE shiny Slaymatron-style chainsaw - but no need to worry, parents, it's tin and the wheel doesn't spin. Please give generously, and join us tomorrow night.”
“We regret to inform you that Victory Viper will no longer be performing an opening dance, but our House Monsters will be putting on a mysterious performance instead. There are reduced price tickets for the South Stands. THANK YOU, EVERYONE, AND HAVE YOURSELVES AN EXCELLENT NIGHT.”
The spotlights dim as the audience settle once more in their seats. From the shadowed door of the south stand come a group of unruly-looking teenagers. They wear fashionably ripped trousers, flamboyant headgear, and brightly-coloured, homemade SPAM T-shirts. The protest signs they carry make use of bonafide SPAM slogans: 'MONSTERS ARE NOT FOR CONSUMPTION' and 'STAND UP FOR CULINARY JUSTICE'. Judging by the irritated boos of the crowd (though followed up by a couple of equally heartfelt cheers), it takes a while for them to realise these are actors, not genuine protesters.
A second later, it all becomes clear. A couple of Arena technicians, dressed in black, wheel in a magnificent piece of wooden scenery painted to resemble the new Monster House: complete with slogans reading 'MONSTER HOUSE: THE KINDER ALTERNATIVE', and 'FUN FOR ALL THE FAMILY'.
“The Network is proud to say we support our local businesses,” comes a softly amplified voice, seemingly Trend himself, from the top of the stands. “However, some people aren't so willing to uphold the Bastion promise.”
Right on cue, one of the SPAM-clad activists steps forward. She appears to be holding an axe. “Hey,” she says to her group of assembled friends. “Do you see that? It's the new Monster House building. Let's smash it up for no other reason than pointless iconoclasm and a quasi-fetishistic tendency towards senseless destruction!”
“Yeah!” agrees another of the group, taking a box of eggs out from behind his back. “I love senseless destruction!”
“Me too! Destruction is great!”
A few other SPAM members take out bludgeoning tools, eggs, and a bag of what appears to be Monster dung. They stand before the Monster House, poised to unleash their malice.
“Hold it right there!” An actor with his hair slicked back in the inimitable Maximum Taste style steps out from behind the scenery. “Here at Monster House, we don't encourage violence! As the owner of this property, I must inform you that it is my right to defend the premises from vicious attack.”
“Oh yeah? Why should we listen to you, you symbol of the establishment?” sneers one of the protesters.
“I wish you would listen to me,” says the Max Taste lookalike, with a theatrical gesture of regret. “I wish it didn't have to come to this! Would that we citizens of Bastion, Monster House customers and SPAM members alike, could come together and live in harmony! But it seems that some people need to learn that there are consequences to their actions…”
Out from behind the Monster House scenery comes another figure. It is another actor, face sticking out of an improbably large Doughball - that is to say, Doughnut - costume. Waddling onstage, she turns to face the protestors.
“It's - it's the Monster House mascot!” cry the protesters together in fear. “If only we had considered the consequences to our actions!”
From within the costume, the actor brings out a squirty bottle of jam, with which she proceeds to douse the protesters, obscuring the SPAM slogans. As they are chased stickily offstage, she throws handfuls of sweets to the crowd, who reach for them, delighted.
“Property damage,” says Trend, from the narrator's box, “is immoral and unethical. The Network does not support it, and neither should you. Real activists think before they act.”
“Monster House is very much open for business!” adds the actor playing Max Taste, in fair approximation of the voice (and gesticulations) of the man himself. “Why not head on down after the next fight for our delicious post-match special! Don't forget to bring your Monsteropoly token for a chance to win a fabulous prize!”
The crowd, charmed by both the acting and the candy, burst into contented applause.
—
“Steeple are you really cowing to that rule?”
“Oh, we have principles now do we?”
“Progress, please, a little professionalism.”
“I think the rule's rubbish too.”
“Quiet, Thistle, nobody asked you.”
“I'm at least trying: can't you see that Thorn is currently drawing out the Max Taste Monster Song in interpretive dance?”
“Is it?”
“No, Progress, that was sarcasm.”
“You realise none of you are going to get points if your endorsement of Monster House isn't sincere, right?”
“Oh I'm soooooo sorry, is the fact that my team is already on a 2-for-1 deal not good enough?”
“Heh, that was quite good.”
“Whose side are you on, Steeple?”
“If you're done bickering, you'd see Beetle Circus has won.”
“No thanks to you.”
“No thanks to you either.”
“I think it's thanks to whichever festering weed stole my teammate's Monster.”
”…okay yes, but-”
The merch marketers have pulled out all the stops for this fight, and have been selling faux-Archaeotech vision-enhancing goggles to the fans in the top tier seats of the stadiums, “Just as effective as actual Archaeotech!” they claim, and fans hopeful for a closer glimpse of their favourite lap them up, allowing them to see their heroes in all their glory. As eyes turn to the trainers, squaring up against each other in the Arena, no eye can help but notice the Arena floor is completely devoid of obstacles, instead the floor is plastered with an enormous Arena-sized logo for Max Taste's Monster House, with slogans and deals peppering the walls of the Arena. If their eyes could be pulled away from the garish red and orange decor, they'd be quickly drawn to the red and orange uniforms of Team Legit: High Noon and Midnight standing arms folded eyeing up Crash and Blade who are dressed in their usual blacks.
As the Arena fills up, the noise from the crowd increases, but then the lights in the crowds turn off, and all lights focus on the Arena floor, illuminating the gigantic Monster House logo and the trainers.
“ULTIMATE MONSTER BATTLE ARENA FANS!!!” comes the unmistakeable voice of Unfiltered, but not from the box: they're walking out into the Arena floor with the trainers, “We have an ABSOLUTELY DEVASTATING match for you tonight. They've been making gains in the Double Team league all season, threatening each other with defeat, but TONIGHT they will face off against each other IN THE ARENA. Yes, you know it, you've been waiting for it, and now we're gonna give you HEAVY METAL VERSUS TEAM LEGIT!!!”
The crowds go absolutely wild, chants of “SEEMS LEGIT!” and “DARKNESS FALLS!” chorusing out from the stands. Unfiltered waits a few moments before walking over to Blade and Crash, their ominous darkness dwarfing the commentator.
“As it's SUCH a momentous fight,” Unfiltered says to Heavy Metal, “do you have any words for your rivals?”
Crash and Blade exchange a look, and nod, Crash taking the voice enhancing device, “Team Legit,” she says, “you've made it pretty far, and that's impressive, but your little tricks and traps won't work on us. You rely on tricks of the light to make your Monsters look good, but we are HEAVY METAL!” there's a cheer from the crowd, “and we bring DARKNESS!” there's another cheer, “and DARKNESS is going to DESTROY you.”
The crowds cheer, and Unfiltered looks like they're about to say something but Blade's glare makes them think better of it, take the device, “Strong words: Team Legit, what do you say in response?”
High Noon doesn't wait for Unfiltered to pass the device before grabbing it, “Well ain't that somethin',” he says, swaggering toward his opponents, “lil ol' Heavy Metal dun forgetten who we are? We're Haaaaaaa Noon and Midni' - MIDNI' - an' y'know what happens at Midni'?”.
The crowds shout “DARKNESS!” but High Noon shouts over, “Tha's right! Midni' Madness at Maximum Taste's Monster House! Ten percent off anything that was made yesterday! Get a taste of tha' Bastion-famous Monster Burger!”
“How does it taste, Noon?” asks Midnight.
“It tastes YEEE-HAWWWW!” shouts High Noon, and the crowd cheers, and both of Team Legit together shout, “At High Noon or at Midnight, any time's a good time for Monster House!” and the audience cheer, “MONSTER HOUSE! MONSTER HOUSE!”
High Noon passes back the device, to a somewhat stunned Unfiltered. Just audible over it, Blade is heard asking, “You do know that it only counts if your Monsters do it?” to which Midnight shrugs, “Taste too much for you?” and Unfiltered themselves smirks.
“Well at that, I think it's about time we saw some MONSTERS, don't you? Trainers, please make your way out of the Arena and join me in the commentary box! Now the Arena has been considerately cleared by Damage Control and the Crescent Wrench Blues so that we have an unrestricted view of the fight - good call by Team Legit there - and everything is set. We'll keep moving on up, but if you would open the NORTH DOORS PLEASE, we present to you the TERRIFYING EVIL that is HEEEAAAVYYY MEEEETTTAAAALLLL!!!!”
The North Doors open and dark smoke trails out, before an enormous floating shape appears through the mist. That's right: it's a GIGANTIC MONSTER HOUSE BANNER!!! The banner waves majestically in the air, as Mechagraviton floats after it, keeping the Monster House banner afloat with its mental powers. Mechagraviton itself is painted in Monster House colours complete with red horns, and Monster House logos on its flanks. Mechagraviton is followed out by Dark Steel who is waving Monster House signs as shields in the air. The crowds cheer, and the Monsters do a little bit of a choreographed parade around the Arena. Both are wearing reflective sunglasses.
“Well,” says Unfiltered, “I don't think any of us expected that. Um. Well, open the SOUTH DOORS if you would for their rivals: TEEEEAMMMM LEEEEGIIIIITT!!!”
The audience brace themselves for a flagrant display of fast food advertising from Team Legit, but as Longbow canters out with Shrapnel on its back, it's only the small adorable robot that been subjected to red and orange paint as it sports a Monster House logo on its back and a red and orange colour scheme to its bow. Longbow on the other hand is sporting significantly more weaponry than it did last time it was seen in the Arena, but no Monster House branding.
With both teams in the Arena, they form their respective lines at the instruction of Arena technicians, and Unfiltered's voice blares out again, “Well we are comfortably in our commentary box, and we're joined by YARN to Rules Lawyer on behalf of Team Legit - how are you Yarn?”
“I've very well, Unfiltered,” Yarn says, “I'm looking forward to the battle of the season, though I think it's a shame that Noggin' hasn't seen fit to arrive on time!”
“Oh yes, that is quite a shame,” says Unfiltered, “looks like Heavy Metal's appointed Rules Lawyer hasn't shown up to the fight. Perhaps he double booked? Dear oh dear, well maybe you won't need one, hey Heavy Metal?”
“I doubt that,” says Yarn, “they're already dangerously close to violating Amendment 6,789 on maximum number of orange objects that can be taken into the Arena at once.”
“What?” asks Blade.
“Dark Steel,” Yarn replies, “is holding 10 distinct orange objects and after “the Orangepocalypse” it's well known that you can't bring more than 12 distinct orange objects into the Arena being held by one Monster.”
“Well he's not,” says Crash, “he's holding 10. Learn to count, would you?”
“Anyway,” says Unfiltered, “I suspect Dark Steel is about drop all of those because the battle is ABOUT TO BE UNDERWAY. Ultimate Monster Battle Arena Double Team Fans, ARE YOU READY for this INCREDIBLE FIGHT? DARK STEEL AND MECHAGRAVITON VERSUS SHRAPNEL AND LONGBOW. LET. BATTLE. COMMMMEEEEEEENNNNNNNCCCCCCCEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
Immediately, both teams spring into action: Longbow and Shrapnel dart out of the way of an immediate and devastating strike from Dark Steel that just misses, struck within seconds of the fight starting. Tension grabs the crowds immediately, with Mechagraviton flying through the air and divebombing toward Longbow as it gallops around the edge of the Arena. Shrapnel turns its BIG EYES on Mechagraviton and momentarily stuns it causing it to crash into the Arena floor. The floor ripples with arcing electrical energy, and Mechagraviton lets out a strangled mechanical screech before launching itself into the air using its levitation powers, angry and furious at the trickery.
“OOOH, is that floor electrified, Midnight?” asks Unfiltered, and Blade loudly asks, “Is that really allowed?” before Yarn takes the mic, “Of course it is - it's part of the Arena dressing that Maintenance have chosen to put out under their remit as of Amendment 24, don't you recall.”
Blade harumphs, an action which is mirrored in the Arena by Dark Steel chasing down Longbow and slicing into the steel armour. Longbow reels from this and bucks, launching Shrapnel into the air. Shrapnel does a flip, which the audience loves, but is caught in a swooping Mechagraviton's gravity beam and thrown into the air toward the topward Arena vertical limit. The crowd hold their breaths as Shrapnel is thrown up, and there's a “Ha!” from the commentary box, “Shrapnel must be out: she left the Arena!” but Yarn takes the microphone again, “That's a negative, Heavy Metal, according to Amendment 10,052, a Monster may not fly above the vertical limit of its own volition, and Shrapnel clearly isn't flying of her own volition.”
“Yes she is,” argues Crash.
“Midnight, can your Monster fly?” asks Yarn.
“No, Yarn, she can't,” says a smug Midnight.
“Well there we have it, Umpire,” Yarn says, “Shrapnel has not violated the height limit. Though, Mechagraviton is getting dangerously close to-”
“Dark Steel!” shouts Blade, cutting her off, “KEEP THAT NOISE DOWN!”
The Monster turns to look at the Commentary box, and the crowds are shocked as Dark Steel gives a deadly look toward the box and DARK GLARE is used ON YARN HERSELF!! Yarn staggers back, stunned, but drops her grip on the microphone. In the brief moment of distraction, though, Longbow charges Dark Steel and headbutts him, but… nothing happens.
“Shit…” High Noon is heard to say, but the crowds cheer louder.
Shrapnel lands on the ground, and Mechagraviton swoops down to slice at the Monster's exposed belly. Shrapnel shrieks, and Longbow jumps through the air to intercept Mechagraviton, but itself is intercepted by a swing from the insanely fast Dark Steel, punting Longbow into the air. It flails around as it flies, and lands in a sprawled heap. Mechagraviton keeps focussed on Shrapnel, slamming the Monster up and down with its GRAVITY SLAM while Dark Steel approaches Longbow for a GIGASLASH. It raises its sword, and prepares for its insane light-based slash, but as the GIGASLASH comes down, Longbow phases into invisibility and the GIGASLASH seems to bend around where Longbow was, causing massive damage to the Arena wall behind it, but not to the Monster itself. Dark Steel's sword, embedded in the Arena floor, is abandoned by the Monster just in time as the floor ripples with arced electricity again, electrifying the sword and forcing Mechagraviton to leave Shrapnel alone.
The little Monster staggers to its feet, with Longbow cantering around defensively as it gets up, but Heavy Metal regroup faster: Mechagraviton launches Dark Steel into the air, where it does a backward flip, blocking out the lights, and then it dives toward the ground where Longbow prowls, its blade out, falling faster and faster. The blade connects: but NOT with Longbow! There's a fountain of blue Archaeotechnological sparks as Dark Steel's blade slides off an Archaeotech Forcefield that protects it and - as it grabs the chibi robot onto its back once more - Shrapnel.
The crowd are beside themselves with cheering, the Arena is filled with noise, as Heavy Metal chase down Longbow. Dark Steel claws its way onto Longbow, but with the forcefield there it can't get purchase and drops. Both of Heavy Metal are faster, but with the forcefield still up, they can only wait them out, giving Shrapnel a chance to regroup. Mechagraviton and Dark Steel take time to regroup too, but then Dark Steel points to Shrapnel who is staring with fixation at Mechagraviton, a bright red line emitted from its eyes and painting Mechagraviton as a target. The weapon attached to Longbow turns to face Mechagraviton, who immediately moves into evasive manouevres fit to avoid the Meltinator blast that is sure to come, but there's an unearthly KA-POW as the cannon instead reveals itself a far more dangerous COIL GUN, firing a solid slug right into Mechagraviton, smashing through the creature's metal wings. It falls to the ground, levitating itself just in time to avoid another floor shock, and launches Longbow into the Arena wall as a last move before it collapses onto the floor, beaten.
Longbow is out, but Dark Steel doesn't buy it. The darkest and most dangerous of Monsters strides over and grabs Longbow by the scruff of its neck. It wakes up and claws at Dark Steel, but Dark Steel is unimpressed. It takes out its blades and slashes and slashes at Dark Steel, parts of it falling to the floor, but suddenly it too is painted red by a light from Shrapnel, and recognising the threat posed, it shadowsteps out of the way before Longbow can attack it again. Longbow collapses to the floor, and dust (orange and red) thrown up from the painted logos on the floor begins to settle as Dark Steel steps out of the shadows again, facing down Shrapnel.
Dark Steel is not much taller than Shrapnel, but the smaller robot looks dwarfed by Dark Steel's evilness. Dark Steel strides forward, sword poised to slash and decapitate Shrapnel without another thought, but then it stops in its tracks. Shrapnel is staring up at it, and it is staring down. Its sunglasses have fallen off in the fight, and even then it's hard to tell if Shrapnel's adorable eyes would have been blocked out by even them. Dark Steel rears its head back and responds with its own DARK GLARE, and the bright light coming from Shrapnel is met by shadows from Dark Steel.
Both try to move forward, but neither can. The strain on Dark Steel's joints is obvious, and the rage from the commentary box where Blade shouts objections overruled by a dazed Yarn is palpable, but Dark Steel cannot bring itself to move closer to Shrapnel. The two stand there, staring at each other. There's hatred on Dark Steel's expressionless face, and fury.
Shrapnel looks to be just as tired, her own joints shaking with the effort of keeping Dark Steel held. Both Monsters are moving, just enough to keep them from being counted out, but then, from the side of the Arena where Longbow lay supposedly unmoving, the coilgun targets Dark Steel again, and there's another bolt of energy that strikes Dark Steel, the surprise knocking it to the ground. The Arena floor ripples with electricity, stunning it further, and keeping it from getting up as Shrapnel walks over and stands on top of her rival's unmoving body.
The Arena falls silent. Clocks count down the final seconds: 8… 9… 10. And the Umpire announces it, “TEAM LEGIT ARE-”
“OBJECTION!” comes a shout from the commentary box, and there's a kerfuffle inside.
“What do you mean objection?” asks the Umpire, “Noggin', the fight is over.”
“I'm… objecting….. to…….” Noggin's voice stalls, “aha! Amendment 7,482: a victor should NOT be climbing on its defeated foes.”
“Do you mean Amendment 7,481(a)?” asks Yarn, “And I think you'll find that that amendment only prohibits climbing on defeated foes if the battle has already been called and it's actually an act of devotion to a demigod banned from the Arena.”
“Ah but Amendment 7,490 overrules that,” protests Noggin', “and states that since we cannot prove that the Concept of Vanity isn't its own demigod Monster out there somewhere that this should never occur.”
“Amendment 5,193: hypothetical Monsters cannot be used in reasoning when it applies to the result of an ongoing fight!”
“Amendment 4,192: concerns for the security of the Arena against unknown threats that may exist must be taken into consideration over other rules!”
“Amendment 4,999: any amendment published by the mad Rules Lawyer 'Chair' cannot be referred to after 3 additional amendments have been cited!”
“Amendment… Amendment…” Noggin' pants for breath, and the Arena waits with bated breath, but as they do, Dark Steel gets up and slashes at Shrapnel, which runs away shrieking again.
“RULE ONE,” shouts Yarn, “If a Monster does not get up for TEN SECONDS it loses.”
”…that's low,” says Noggin', but both turn to the Umpire, “Umpire?”
The Umpire sighs, and there's tension. Dark Steel itself turns to look at the Commentary box, waiting, but the Umpire reiterates: “TEAM LEGIT ARE VICTORIOUS!!!” and the crowds go wild. Team Legit jump for joy, and the Umpire continues, “Team Legit earns 1 Max Taste Point - yes, I know the orange uniforms, but it's gotta be during the match - Heavy Metal earns 2 Max Taste Points, but Team Legit gain 3 style points, Heavy Metal gain 1 style point, so with the win taken into account, that leaves TEAM LEGIT ON 19 POINTS AND HEAVY METAL ON 18 POINTS.”
The crowds go wild, and the match is finished. Hands are shaken, pacts of vengeance sworn, but everyone can agree this match will go down as a great match of history.
The bulky red form of Green Genie enters the arena, with Blue Lagoon sliding in behind, flat to the floor and shaping itself as Green Genie's shadow, much to the delight of the audience.
“And facing them, Team Slime!”
The door on the other side opens, and Jaws of Defeat walks out. Alone.
“Well folks, I've just been passed a message and it looks like Slime Kitty is missing - which means it's just Jaws here today. Still, I'm sure we'll still get a spectacular fight - 3, 2, 1, GO!”
Green Genie and Blue Lagoon launch forward, with the many heads of Jaws of Defeat lashing out at the attackers. Jaws' jaws sink into the blue goop of Blue Lagoon, and leave jagged marks in the thick hide of Green Genie, and it's putting on a good show, almost holding them off.
Until Blue Lagoon pulses, its squishy form flexing and growing, sprouting a fluffy coat of hair around its now even larger form. The flolloping creature rears up, slamming down a bulky mass of fur onto Jaws, which is smothered by this new form. There's a little confusion, since the umpire can't see Jaws, but eventually the count starts, and Jaws is counted out.
“TEAM SLIME WIN!”
As soon as the fight is declared, THE TENT jumps to one side, and the colours on its big top, bunting, and canvas flaps start to change. Blocks of colour form and crisply delineate to echo the floor paint, and finally the mounted lamp eyes swivel down and tuck themselves into the fabric.
The audience gasps. Though the outline of THE TENT is clear, and the calibre of the paint mimicry varies from different angles, and its leg poles peek out onto the floorboards, THE TENT is clearly… camouflaged!
Though the commentator Ferrocious Ferra makes scathing comments that it's not camouflaged because everyone can see it, the audience loves this new move.
And when Your Worst Nightmare howls and takes off, dark mist rolling off its wings, it appears to be unable to see through THE TENT's disguise.
The fight is quick and brutal. The audience gasps as Your Worst Nightmare is struck from behind and swoops around in confusion. THE TENT promptly stills and reshuffles its colours to fit in with the floor. Your Worst Nightmare takes another hit, and is thrown across the Arena. Its nightmarish shadow falls across the floor, but has no effect on the THE TENT's crafty colour arrangement.
Your Worst Nightmare flies around the Arena, blindly sending waves of dark energy at its unseen foe, but THE TENT pounces from behind. The canvas flaps close tightly over THE TENT'S mouth, and there are moving flashes of electricity as THE TENT's needle teeth whirr up and down like a sewing machine. The howls weaken and trail off.
Ferrocious Ferra comments on the brutality with gusto, and goes to far as to say that perhaps THE TENT isn't just a surprisingly high-quality fabric shelter.
The Umpire declares THE TENT the winner, and asks for Your Worst Nightmare to kindly be spat out so that its Trainer Zenith can retrieve it.
Pennythrift Steeple shows off by ordering THE TENT to resume its disguise while exiting the Arena.
