Fite 64 (Guest Writer: Gooper Blooper)- Robros Battle Broyale (X Demolition with Slime-inator vs. Zephyrus and Oceanus with Poseidon)

It has taken a month and a half for this fite to happen, but the wait is over.

Tonight, IN THIS VERY RING, two teams of robot bros go head to head.

Ladies and gentlemen, it's time for:

X DEMOLITION AND SLIME-INATOR

 VS

THE RO-BROS AND POSEIDON 

The Robro heroes Zephyrus and Oceanus arrive on one end of the arena riding atop Poseidon the robot shark. Zephyrus waves cheerfully, while Oceanus and Poseidon ham it up for their fans. On the other side of the arena, the doors swing open and X Demolition smoothly and steadily rolls into the arena. Big Brother is at the lead of the small procession, and he is followed by Little Brother, with Slime-Inator at the rear. The construction team got a fair share of applause, but not quite as much as their heroic opponents.

As the two teams got into position awaiting the start of the fight, Zephyrus and Oceanus nodded to each other, making signals and gestures. They had prepared for this match by carefully deliberating on who should fite who. It had been determined that Zephyrus should tackle Big Brother, Oceanus Little Brother, and Poseidon Slime-Inator.

Their careful, detailed plotting immediately went out the window when the bell sounded and all three construction bots immediately came down on Oceanus.

Big Brother, Little Brother, and Slime-Inator rammed into Oceanus, Big Brother readying his drill arm and Slimeinator withdrawing his claws and opening his mouth. Zephyrus was so stunned it took a few seconds to form a coherent plan to fight back. Oceanus, for his part, fired wildly, sending Bubble Lead flying everywhere. It didn't seem to do much damage to anything, and before the green Robot Master knew it, Big Brother had swung his drill arm forward.

The drill stopped just inches from Oceanus' body. Poseidon had bitten down onto the arm, and wasn't about to let his master get impaled! The shark pulled and yanked on the arm, trying to wrench it from its socket, but Big Brother retaliated by driving away, taking Poseidon with it, and swinging its arm around the arena, trying to smash up the shark.

Little Brother barreled towards Oceanus, but Zephyrus was ready this time, firing a Crash Bomb into the arena dirt. Like a mine, the shot went off when Little Brother drove over it, and the smaller of the two brothers is sent up and over onto his back, struggling to right himself. Zephyrus moved in to do some damage.

Oceanus was relieved his bro had driven off the others, as this allowed him to go mano-a-mano with Slime-Inator. The monstrous cement truck charged forward, jaws gaping and ready to crush, but Oceanus easily sidestepped the beast's charge. He ran up to the back of Slime-Inator - there was a big, obvious hole in his rear, and Oceanus was going to fire a battery of Dive Missiles right inside!

Except going after the rear of a cement mixer is not a particularly wise decision. Oceanus is promptly reminded why his enemy is called Slime-Inator when several dozen pounds of goopy sludge erupts from its mixer and onto the diverbot. "EEUUUGH!" Oceanus cries in disgust, looking at the dripping, oozing slime running down his chassis. But he soon gets over it when he realizes nothing has malfunctioned and he felt no pain. "...That's it? That's the best your slime can do?"

It was only when Slime-Inator spun around and began another charge did Oceanus realize how heavy the slime was. His agility significantly hampered, Oceanus is unable to save his cannon arm, which is snapped up by the monstrous cement truck. It doesn't come off - instead Slime-Inator just keeps driving onward around the arena with its goopy prize, dragging the hapless Oceanus behind. At least all the movement is starting to remove the slime.

Zephyrus, meanwhile, is trying to figure out how best to crack Little Brother...

Little Brother twitched and struggled, trying mightily to right itself and get away from Zephyrus, but the fanbot was having no part of it. A Spark Shot to the undercarriage stunned the forklift, allowing Zephyrus to reach down with his claw and try to prise open his opponent's undercarriage.

Suddenly, hatches on Little Brother opened and sticks of dynamite popped out. Even though it was Constructor X who tended to use this attack, Little Brother had all the necessary parts on his own. The dynamite sticks landed near Little Brother, and Zephyrus, eager to avoid getting blasted, quickly jumped off his enemy and stepped back. With Zephyrus finally off of him, Little Brother managed to self-right and drive clear of his TNT sticks exploding. Instead of fighting Zephyrus, Little Brother drove away, forcing the Robot Master to chase after him.

Big Brother's claw arm clamped hard around Poseidon's body, trying to crush it in its grip. Poseidon let go of the drill arm and thrashed madly, trying to escape, but it wasn't quite able to. Big Brother began smashing the shark into the ground repeatedly, hoping to knock it offline. Poseidon was too dazed to try his weapons...

Fortunately, there was a seventh participant in this match! Mini-Poseidon, the tiny shark atop Poseidon's head, ejected from its locked position and went after the claw arm of Big Brother like a robot piranha, sending strips of metal flying. Big Brother released Poseidon and trundled backward, withdrawing his arms and raising his front plow like a shield. Mini-Poseidon fired a laser, but it bounced off the scoop and fired into the audience, making a young Asian woman dive for cover.

As Little Brother led Zephyrus around, the fanbot began firing his Needle Cannon. While needles weren't effective against metal, they did pretty well against the forklift's tires. One wheel blew, then another, and Little Brother began to lose control. He shot off more dynamite, but Zephyrus used his chest fan to blow the sticks right back, and explosions rattled Little Brother's frame as he began belching smoke. Spotting Big Brother up ahead, Little Brother raced to meet him. The larger truck was still in a defensive position, soaking up laser fire from both Poseidon and his Mini-Me.

"Big Brother, we're in trouble!"
"That we are. It's time!"

For a moment, all is quiet.

"Big Brother!"
"Little Brother!"
"UNITE! BUILD FORMATION!"

Big Brother and Little Brother rocket into the air, surrounded by blue backgrounds and flashes of light as they combine and transform.

"MORPH BROTHERRRRRS... CONSTRUCTORRRRRRR X!!"

With a mighty crash, Constructor X lands on the arena floor and stares down Zephyrus, Poseidon, and Mini-Poseidon.

Now the true fight would begin...

Slime-Inator was really enjoying this battle so far. He'd slimed and manhandled Oceanus, and now it was time to finish the bot off. With a flick of his head, the monster robot cement mixer tossed Oceanus to the ground and reared up on his wheels, roaring and ready to crush him to bits-

But he hadn't expected the trident. Oceanus's trusty trident harpoon slams into Slime-Inator, and in an instant Zephyrus's little bro is on his feet and yanking. Slime-Inator bellows as he tumbles onto his side, landing hard. Oceanus releases his trident and makes a run for it while his enemy is unable to retaliate. Oceanus had caught a glimpse of the transformation, and he knew Zephyrus would need his help.

"DRILLLL KNUCKLLLLLE!!"

Zephyrus only just dodged the Drill Knuckle attack of Constructor X, pivoting away from the rocket drill and firing Spark Shots in retaliation. Unfortunately for Zephyrus, Constructor X's combined body was better able to resist his electric attacks, and the mech thundered forward without any noticeable issues, swinging his mighty claw down upon Zephyrus and cracking his head open. It was a strong blow, and Zephyrus staggered, leaving himself open to a brutal follow-up punch to the chest fan, damaging it and sending him reeling.

Poseidon and Mini-Poseidon spewed lasers at Constructor X's head, and he quickly raised his drill to try and deflect them. Mini-Poseidon's laser was redirected into the hapless Slime-Inator's front left tire, but Poseidon's found its mark, blasting out one of Constructor X's eyes in a spray of sparks.

"You're good."

The construction mecha's drill opened up, and a beam of light shot out of it.

"But not good enough! I SHALL DESTROY YOU... WITH MY LASER BLADE!"

Constructor X swung the Laserblade, creating explosions in thin air that blew Mini-Poseidon across the arena, creating a Mini-Poseidon-shaped hole in the wall, and the blade cutting deep into Poseidon.

In a retaliating thrash, Poseidon's axe tail sunk into one of Constructor X's legs, and he fired his acid and liquid nitrogen cannons at his foe, causing metal to begin to corrode and rust in some places, and freeze and grow brittle in others.

Oceanus ran up to his brother to see if he was all right.

"Bro, you okay?"

"I'm fine... takes a lot more than this to put me down!"

Even though some circuits were exposed and he was smoking dangerously, Zephyrus was willing to keep up the fight, turning to Constructor X and preparing a battle stance. The Wind Crystal in Zephyrus' forehead began to glow...

With all of his might, Zephyrus unleashed a tremendously powerful tornado from his chest. A tornado so powerful it made his already damaged fan pop right off seconds after it was made. The out-of-control whirlwind tore through the earth, and not even Constructor X was strong or heavy enough to withstand it. The mecha fell over with an earthshaking crash, and as the tornado dissipated he was clearly having some trouble getting up again.

Oceanus and Poseidon moved in for the kill, Zephyrus hanging back...

The claw shot forward in an instant, grabbing Poseidon and swinging him at Oceanus like a baseball bat. Oceanus was sent flying from the hit, soaring backwards and smashing hard into the arena wall before collapsing to the ground. Zephyrus raised his hand. Was... was he flipping off Constructor X?

Well, sort of. That IS how you activate the Middle Finger Missiles.

Large plates of metal, already weakened by acid, cold, and wind, now began to fall off of Constructor X, exposing circuits and wires. He lifted up Poseidon again, looming over Zephyrus. Zephyrus tensed up. He could think of only one defense at this point.

The instant the shark made contact, Zephyrus activated the Top Spin. Opposing forces had an argument, and a headless robo-shark was wrenched out of Constructor X's grasp, inactive and offline.

KO

Constructor X paused a moment, apparently not realizing what had just happened, and Zephyrus took advantage, swinging up with his claw and driving it into Constructor X's arm. The bigger mech stood up straight and took Zephyrus with him, the Robot Master hanging from the arm comically. He began firing Middle Finger Missiles at the mecha's head, but Constructor X simply retracted his head to avoid the attacks, forcing Zephyrus to shoot elsewhere.

Such as at the base of the claw arm, which soon gave way, sending both the arm and Zephyrus back to the ground.

Constructor X's head emerged again, and he stared down at Zephyrus, who was now busy trying to free his claw from the severed arm.

So busy, in fact, that he didn't notice the drill heading right for his back.

Impaled from behind, his battery shredded, Zephyrus slumps over and deactivates. Constructor X tosses the once-Air-Man behind him, and turns to face Oceanus, who has gotten up from the earlier assault.

Also having gotten up from the earlier assault is Slime-Inator, who finally figured out - he's not too bright - that he could get free by transforming. Now bereft of wheels, the flying wasp cement truck monster robot flies up and begins circling twenty feet over the battlefield, roaring.

Oceanus gets into battle position.

It was all up to him now.

Oceanus believed that he would be able to handle Constructor X in his current condition. In fact, he was quite confident. The addition of Slime-Inator, however, severely hampered things. Constructor X, feeling his body begin to overheat from the exertion of the fight, had opened his vents and was standing, immobile, to cool off. He was a total sitting duck.

And yet every time Oceanus tried to take advantage, Slime-Inator swooped down with lashing claws and gnashing teeth and forced the diverbot into a retreat. Oceanus was beginning to get annoyed, and realized he had to take out Slime-Inator if he wanted to win. Now, while Constructor X couldn't fight.

Oceanus turned his cannon on the flying robot, unleashing Dive Missiles, but Slime-Inator effortlessly dodged them. Gyro Attack fared little better. The Noise Crush, though, worked perfectly - the sound waves threw off Slime-Inator's systems, and the frazzled robot began to plummet. It tilted its wings to guide its descent towards Oceanus, but it was a fruitless endeavor - he merely sidestepped the charge, grateful that he was no longer covered in slime. Slime-Inator landed hard, creating a furrow in the earth and breaking off two of his claws. As his wings fluttered like a dying dragonfly, Oceanus deemed him no longer a threat and turned to Constructor X, who was still venting himself.

Perfect.

Oceanus charged towards the much bigger mech, squatted down, and leapt into the air, drawing back his hand.

Just as Oceanus leapt into the air, Constructor X's vents snapped shut. His remaining eye flashed brightly. His drill opened.

Oceanus' fist collided with Constructor X at the exact same time Constructor X's Laserblade materialized in the exact spot Oceanus was currently occupying.

 ...Now what?

Hold on a moment - the audience is going nuts - we have a situation here-

I'm looking out over the arena, and it's clear to me that none of our entrants are active at the moment. Constructor X lost his head, shutting off the two brothers simultaneously, and Zephyrus and Oceanus have both been knocked out, as has Poseidon. We're going to the referee...

 "After reviewing the fite footage, we have determined Oceanus and Constructor X were knocked out at the exact same time. However, since Slime-Inator is active and Poseidon is not, we believe that the winner is-"

A tiny shark bellow cuts off the Refbot.

Mini-Poseidon, having finally freed itself from being embedded in the wall, is still alive!

"Oh, um... That changes things. Very well, then, Slime-Inator and Mini-Poseidon shall fite to determine the winner!"

The tiny shark is a miniscule fraction of Slime-Inator's size, but Slime-Inator has definitely seen better days. The Noise Crusher's effects still linger, and he can't get airborne. He drags himself forward with his claws, snapping at the little shark, but Mini-Poseidon can easily avoid the attack. He fires lasers, which do little to Slime-Inator but do leave nice little burn marks. Seeing the need to switch tactics, the sharkbot dives at Slime-Inator's back and spins upside-down, letting its razorblade dorsal fin slice a gash into Slime-Inator. One pass leaves a horrible groove on its upper back. A second strike shears off a wing. Mini-Poseidon twirls around and slams into the cement mixer's head, driving a long, nasty scratch into it, then the neck, then the back, and then-










And you forgot about the slime, didn't you?

And then that fucking slime explodes from the back of the monsterbot like Slimer taking a laxative, and Mini-Poseidon is buried in a tidal wave of green muck, getting pinned to the ground. Laser fire fails to destroy the slime, and biting just makes more creep into the shark's mouth and play havoc with his internals.

Smoke billowing from its body, sparks spraying from vital areas, and wings twitching like an insect hit with Raid, Slime-Inator eagerly hauls itself around in a rough half-circle and bites down on the wriggling pile of goo as hard as it can.

KO
 
TEAM X DEMOLITION WINS

Well, that does it for tonight, sports fans - now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to buy as many Slime-Inator toys as I can before the price skyrockets.

...Boy, I feel awful sorry for Celestia.

Fite 63- Mars vs. The Rider (Biollante vs. Doomrider)

On Mars, the larger of our two competitors is being bathed in applause. Biollante stood above the many inhabitants of a Martian City waving goodbye with her tentacles. She was off to fite Doomrider, the man who had destroyed the city not too long ago. The rebuilding had been long, arduous, and expensive, but now the city almost looked like it had before the champagne flood Doomrider had unknowingly unleashed upon it.

The citizens whooped and hollered for their protector, wishing her luck as she went to fite the person who had caused them so much grief recently. What they hadn't expected was a fiery portal to open up right next to Biollante. The aliens all leaped back as Doomrider came roaring through the portal, laying down on his bike in a relaxed pose and eating fried shimp lazily.

"Doomrider! Why have you come here? Have you not caused enough trouble for these people?" Biollante roared and quickly positioned herself between Doomrider and the civilians.

"I figured I would swing by and see what all the fucking whining was about. This place doesn't look damaged at all! I think you just wanted a chance to slap me around."

"We rebuilt. Our lives were devoted to undoing your mess for almost an entire month! But we martians are a resilient bunch! We will not lose here today, we will show you the might of Mars's Resolve!" The civilians all roared with applause as Biollante gave her little speech. Doomrider pretended to stifle a yawn.

"That is so fucking cheesy! I can almost taste it! Now I'll have to fite you on a full stomach!"

"What?! No! Not here on Mars! You can do no more damage to it!"

"Don't worry toots, I'll avoid your precious fucking buildings and your testicle-headed citizens."

Before Doomrider could continue, Biollante had heard enough. With a powerful roar, she started the fite right their on her home planet.

Tonight's Fite:

Doomrider did not expect the giant tentacle swing that started the match. Shrimp spilled everywhere as the hedonistic hothead and his motorbike went flying out of the city and onto the red ground of the planet. Doomrider spiraled up off the ground and grabbed the handles of his ride, the flaming vehicle  now wrapped in a rainbow of fire. The citizens of Mars were making sure to stay far away from the fite that had left their city, but a few delivered the Oxygen Destroyer to Biollante so she would have her weapon for this fite.

Biollante held the powerful weapon with one tentacle behind her back. Best to keep it out of her opponent's reach until she needed to use it. For now, she decided to use her acid sap to halt the approach of the Doomrider. A cone of flames as tall as her were approaching, and she only hoped that she would not soon burn with the many ethereal energies Doomrider could tap into.

The acid sap shot out of Biollante and onto the ground in front of Doomrider, but it had a different effect than intended. The bike could withstand the acid easily, but the acid had mad a series of potholes that made the bike start to rock uneasily. Doomrider, who was just having fun with his powers at the moment, had not been focusing on steering all too much. He was steering with his horns, and as they rode across the potholes, the bike's bumpy ride bent Doomrider's horns out of place. The now lopsided horns tipped the bike over, and instead of a roaring cone of rainbow energy coming towards Biollante, it was now a ball of exploding lights.

The kaiju sacrificed one of her tentacles to try and bat the ball away. The tentacle instead got wrapped up into the ball, and as the ball of light bounded and spun erratically, the plant's massive girth began to lean. The object was trying to pull her in! Biollante quickly used her mouth to snap the tentacle off, and it soon bounded off into the distance.

Doomrider was absent for a lot longer than Biollante had expected. That ball must have rolled pretty far away. Some Martians began to prematurely declare Biollante the winner, but then a distorted roar came across the horizon. It was the scream of a machine, but not Doomrider's bike.

Doomrider was riding back to the fite on the back of a Mars Rover. The Mars Rover was now belching flames from a massive metal maw it had somehow grown, and back on Earth NASA was scratching their head so hard from what they were now seeing through it that their fingernails were breaking. Biollante thought that Doomrider was far away enough to risk tossing the Oxygen Destroyer out there. A new crater was worth taking down her foe before he could do anything to her planet again. She pulled the tentacle forward and was about to ready the WMD when suddenly fireballs came raining down on her. The rover was barfing up a stream of pink lava as Doomrider hurled purple fireballs at her.

She lit up like a Christmas Tree, but she was not going to burn to death, at least not yet. Using her telekinesis, she kept her weapon away from the volley of fire and began to rumble towards Doomrider and his new mount. The lava vomit was getting closer and closer, but she reached some tentacles down into the ground and hefted a large chunk of Mars dirt out of the ground. The lava now pooled into the crater she had just made, and Doomrider had to slow his mount down to keep it from going into the new pink lava lake on Mars's surface.

Biollante hurled the chunk of earth... err, mars? The chunk of ground at Doomrider, and the rover instinctively tried to protect its master. Its metal maw grabbed the red soil, but it could not break it apart. The pink lava it was barfing up still tried to come out, but the ground was blocking the exit of the rover's body. It began to shake, and then it began to explode.

Doomrider was launched up into the air in an explosion of lava and dirt. Biollante used the moment to pat out some of the flames all over her body, relying on the soil of her home planet to put out flames from another dimension. It kinda worked.

As Doomrider came falling back down, he closed his mouth and his cheeks began to inflate. Biollante was expecting another barf of the fiery variety, so she shielded her face with her tentacles. But Doomrider did not expel flames, he expelled air. A typhoon of hot air came towards Biollante, pushing her down to the ground. Doomrider landed on top of the toppled kaiju and began to tear her apart with his clawed hands. Biollante's remaining tentacles reached up to try and grab Doomrider, but the Daemon Prince grabbed them and tied them into a Thief Knot. He wasn't trying to be symbolic or anything, it was just an easy enough knot to tie.

The Martians watched on in horror. Understandably, they were uneasy with seeing their protector being torn to shreds. Talk was going around the group of joining the fite. At least as a distraction. They had guns, they had flying saucers, they shouldn't have to sit back and do nothing!

The group was about to go get armed when suddenly Doomrider flew up into the air. Even Doomrider looked confused, but soon he could sense the type of energy it was. The Oxygen Destroyer rolled off to the side as Biollante's telekinesis shifted from the weapon to her aggressor. She quickly hurled him away and used her mind to unravel the thief's knot. With a great amount of effort, she pushed herself up and grabbed the Oxygen Destroyer in her tentacles. Before Doomrider could recover from being tossed by a giant plant's mind, Biollante hurled the bomb right towards him.

Doomrider hits the ground a few seconds before the bomb reaches him. Dodging the bomb's reach seemed impossible at the moment. Instead, he kicked back off the ground and went directly towards the bomb. Grabbing it and easing its momentum as best he could, he began to corkscrew through the air as he got closer and closer to Biollante. She was much too close to the city for comfort, so she began to charge towards Doomrider. If that bomb goes off, killing them both, then she would at least spare the city of as much damage as she could.

But Doomrider was not leaping in for a suicidal bombing, he ceased his spinning and used all the momentum that built up to hurl the bomb directly into the charging plant's maw.

*Gulp*

Biollante could not help but swallow the bomb as it came towards her. With that much force it was a wonder it did not tear through the back of her neck or explode on impact. The bomb landed in the kaiju's stomach, but it did not seem to immediately go off. The sap inside of her cushioned the landing, but it was slowly eating away at it. It was bound to go off any moment.

After his graceful throw, Doomrider landed clumsily in the dirt. He let out a whistle, and what remained of his motorcycle came to him. The ball of lights had wrecked it up something awful. It was less of a flaming motorcycle and more of a sputtering unicycle with some lighters attached. Still, it was fast and powered by Slaanesh, so Doomrider hopped aboard his unicycle and drove away, mooning the plant beast who was now a ticking time bomb.

Biollante would have given chase either way, but the mooning was just icing on her cake of rage. Biollante, surprisingly fast for a plant, tore through the Martian soil in her pursuit. Doomrider was riding his unicycle backwards now, trying to think of a way to slow her pursuit. An idea popped into his head, and he leaped off his unicycle to implement it. Landing on the dirt, he created a wall of fire so large that Biollante might be feeling a bit inadequate next to it. The thing is, a kaiju who know it is going to explode does not care much for self preservation.

She went right through that sucker.

The burning plant slammed into Doomrider, who thought she might stop upon seeing something that will surely deep fry her. When Biollante realized the tiny thing she bumped into was not a rock but her foe, she reached her tentacles down and seized him. It was at this point Doomrider realized something: He was not trying to keep Biollante from reaching his bike, he was trying to keep her from reaching him! The unicycle was sputtering around the Martian surface pointlessly now, a large amount of power stored in it because its rider was convinced the ride was the subject of the monster's pursuit. He shouldn't have had so many drugs this morning... and yesterday... and all month... and well, always.

The flames on Biollante were turning her body to an ashy black, and as Doomrider struggled to get free, the tentacles crumbled to bits. Doomrider laughed, realizing that the monster was hardly keeping together now that it was scorched. He whipped out some marshmallows and began to roast them on her body. Biollante tried to spray acid, but the bomb within her churned about and made the kaiju too anxious to continue the assault. The sap dripped down on Doomrider, who whipped out an umbrella that absorbed the acidic goo.

"Tut tut tut, looks like fucking gross rain!" he laughed again. He had this in the bag. If the bomb didn't get her, the fire would! Biollante tried to use her telekinesis, but the mind was too taxed from dealing with the pain of burning alive. All her options seemed exhausted, and Doomrider wasn't even trying to win anymore. He thought he had it in the bag after he hurled that bomb into her stomach...

This time, Biollante had an idea, and not one involving a unicycle riding around a planet for perhaps the rest of time. Biollante forced her immense body down and swallowed Doomrider. Leaning over caused the weakened kaiju to topple, but Doomrider, his marshmallows, and even his umbrella all successfully were gulped down and swallowed. Doomrider tumbled through whatever a plant monster's digestive system is like and landed in the sappy goo that substituted for a normal organic's stomach acid. Doomrider's hair fire was lighting the beast's stomach, but it didn't help Doomrider much to know where he was.

The goo was devouring his armor, and Doomrider flailed around in the acidic gloop as he tried to escape. As he flailed, his hands hit something hard, and he climbed up onto it to keep from sinking into the sap. He let out a sigh of relief and tried to stand on the object, but it began to shake, and he slipped off. He reached out for the object again, but this time his claws broke into it. His hair snuffed out, and for a minute Doomrider wondered what would cause his headfire to go out.

Fire can't burn when there is no oxygen. And fire definitely can't burn if that oxygen is destroyed.

The explosion decimated Doomrider, but it was inside of Biollante...

The kaiju had been unable to lift itself from the ground after it had toppled, but the explosion of its stomach had caused it to move. The force of the explosion destroyed all of her torso, but it also propelled her head away from the blast. By pure coincidence she had survived as just a head, but as the heavily scorched head went flying through the air, the Martians in the city looked up in horror. Seeing that going through the air was not a pretty sight.

The head landed in the city, skewered on the new statue of Zephyrus's claw. The Martian's looked at it in horror, some were crying, but the head began to move. A tiny grin, and a tiny message.

"Fear not... We have won on this day..."

The Martians cheered! Even though Biollante was a wreck, the beast had come back from this kind of mutilation before. Kaiju have a tendency to revive themselves anyway. Biollante wins, but only barely. Either way, a victory is a victory, and Mars has been avenged.

Fite 62- Shootout at the Ol' Chapel (Father Squid vs. Browny)

When Father Squid had first agreed to the fite, he did not realize how determined we were to have the gunfight in a church. It took months for us to finally get the Father to allow us to use a building of faith for the fite, but finally we got him to give in! Although that might have been one victory against the priest, we could tell by his stubbornness and resolve that he would hold up well in the special arena tonight.

Browny was flown in yesterday. The tiny robot had just wrapped up a successful sting, having infiltrated a cartel and dismantled it from the top with a record setting arrest. How the group of exclusively human members did not notice their newest member was a robot just goes to show how good Browny is at his job.

Now we shift focus away from our fiters to the place they shall do combat: Sheffield’s Abandoned Anglican Chapel. A long abandoned church all the way in the UK was the only way we could get Father Squid comfortable with using his powerful sniper rifle within God's House. Comfortable might not be the right word, but after he went in to prepare for the fite, we lost track of him. A true sniper, he's found the perfect spot to pick his foe off from no doubt.

Meanwhile, Browny's gun is better for close encounters where the unique ammo types have a better chance of hitting. We have seen the tiny robot ducking into small hallways as the fite preparation began, trying to keep the combat in an area where he'd have the advantage.

Where these two clash remains to be seen, but we do know that when they do, the shootout will be glorious.

Tonight's Fite:

Browny patrolled the hallways of the dilapidated church, looking for vantage points that Father Squid might be camping in. Browny poked his head around corners, inspecting each room before entering. The silence was deafening, and the robot was being destroyed by the anticipation of a possible headshot. The armor piercing rounds would not spare the tiny robot if a good shot hit him.

As Browny exhausted the possibilities, Father Squid calmly kept his cool. He was aiming at one particular area and hoping that his opponent would walk directly into his line of sight. The faster this ends, the less damage the chapel might face. He was lying motionless in wait, adjusting his rifle every now and again as the wind changed.

The drafts blowing around the area made old rusted bells in the church jingle. Browny, unable to feel the light push of air's movement, mistook the bell ringing for a mistake made by his opponent. Browny rushed towards the main foyer and fired a volley of his weapon's Machine Gun bullets into the lobby. Dust erupted all around as wood undisturbed for decades sheds its many layers of detritus. Browny was not as disturbed by the smokescreen of dust as his opponent. Father Squid was aiming at the foyer, but now the dusty air cloaked his opponent.

Browny walked around cautiously. He kept himself in the cloud of settling particles as long as he could, but as it died down, Browny knew that he would not be as safe. He switched his gun's ammo as the dust faded, and finally Father Squid believed he had a good enough shot. A few more calculations for wind, distance, and other stuff the video games never tell kids about sniping was all he needed. He squeezed the trigger.

The bullet flew towards Browny not from within the church, but from nearly 1,500 meters away. After entering the chapel for the battle, Father Squid had walked right out of the back and chosen a nearby hill as his vantage point. The front door of the church also had a very convenient hole through it, and although the priest had to stare at some rather offensive graffiti to snipe through it, he wouldn't have been upset if the bullet destroyed that particular wall as it tore through Browny.

But it did not tear through Browny... entirely. Maybe staring at that graffiti for so long had made Father Squid forget that his rifle would announce its presence, especially to a robot fine-tuned to hearing gunshots. The tiny machine had double jumped into the air as soon as the sound rang out, and although it took a split second for the round to travel the distance, a mechanical mind can process things even faster. Browny was hit, but nothing that bad. The pack on his back was scuffed, and as he tries to hover it complained, but he quickly landed on the ground to spare it from overheating or malfunctioning.

Browny took a moment to consider where Father Squid must have fired from. Lifting his rifle, he aimed directly at one of the chapel's walls and fired. The Victory Laser sailed right through the wall harmlessly, flying all the way towards where Father Squid believed he was safe. The priest had to roll to the side to the avoid the first laser, but as more and more were fired, he realized he would not be able to snipe from that position anymore. Clutching his rifle close, Father Squid rolled down the hill and began to go towards the church, choosing a route far off from Browny's current line of fire.

Browny knew that his shots would most likely miss their target. Their point was to flush out the sniper, not take him down necessarily. Browny switched his ammo type again and went into the church, looking for a way to reach the roof. Father Squid was running towards the chapel, panting and heaving from the exertion. He did not plan to enter, but perhaps there was a good window in the back or side to snipe from. Before he could decide which side to try a closer version of gun combat, Browny appeared at the top of the chapel.

Where a bell once beckoned to churchgoers now stood a robot who beckoned towards a mutant squid. Father Squid still had a good 200 or so meters on Browny, although he wouldn't have time to set up a sniper's nest, he could still try to snipe the mocking robot before he could get shot himself. Lifting up his Barret M82, the squid tried to quick-scope the robot, but some odd ammo floated out of Browny's gun and started absorbing the shots. The Shield Chaser gobbled up the rounds like some overly hungry hippos from Zoofights 6. Unable to do any real damage to the robot, Father Squid briefly said a prayer and shot at the church beneath the robot instead of one of the orbiting shields.

The already powerful ammo did not need help breaking the floor beneath Browny, but it didn't help that the chapel was waiting for an excuse to let some of its roof fall in. Browny toppled down into the building, buried beneath the rubble that had fallen with him. The remaining shield chasers had scattered as Browny lost track of his weapon in the confusion. Although it was clear he was bothered by the destruction, Father Squid suppressed his feelings as much as he could and went to confirm the kill.

Amidst the few remaining rotting pews was the abandoned camp of some traveling hobos. Browny's fall had been cushioned, but the pack on his back had changed from a complaining appliance to a screaming ball of fire. An attempt at hovering to break his fall had resulted in a major malfunction. As he pushed the rubble off, he hurled the pack away from the makeshift camp. Father Squid had just opened the chapel doors (or rather accidentally pulled them off) when an explosion's roar greeted him. Father Squid was a bit surprised, but an explosion against a robotic foe might be a good sign.

Still, he was a careful mutant squid priest, and he kept his gun up as best he could as he walked into the building. Browny had pushed off the rubble that had covered him, but the hobo camp around him was burning and making it difficult to find his gun. As Father Squid entered, he knew he would have to attack now or risk a sniper bullet tearing him apart. Browny wrapped the burning tent around himself, his metal body shielding him from fire's normally harmful effects.

Father Squid had expected to see a broken Browny, or maybe one with a missing arm or leg, but he did not expect a ball of burning cloth to leap out at him. A hastily fired sniper bullet hit the ceiling and as Father Squid grappled with the burning bot, the last of the roof's supports finally turned in its resignation notice. The roof gave up all it's rubble, the old wood and other bits of material cascading down onto the two struggling fiters.

For a moment, the church of Sheffield's Anglican Chapel was eerily quiet once more.

The rubble parted as a tiny robot with a cape of burnt tarp crawled away. He removed the no longer burning cloth, its once helpful flames snuffed by dusty roof parts. The constant barrage of debris was annoying him, but with the roof gone he could finally focus on tactics that involved shooting his opponent instead of bringing the house down. He did not know if Father Squid was alright. The rubble had separated them, and right now Browny focused solely on retrieving a gun. The large rectangular gun Browny carried had a bit of camouflage do to its similarity in color and shape to old broken church parts, but he stumbled across it eventually.

Not knowing where the squid was buried, Browny decided it was time to clear some of this annoying rubble. The Electromagnetic Yo-Yo streamed out of the machine's gun, grinding all it hit to dust. Browny did a sweep of the area, trying to hit any possible location of a buried priest with the powerful and unique weapon. What he did not notice was as he cleared the area, a faint glimmer reflected off the glass of a scope. Father Squid might not be able to find a better spot to snipe from then under a pile of ex-roof parts. As Browny got close to the pile, Father Squid squeezed the trigger again.

The bullet did not only hit Browny, but it skimmed his gun as well. The robot's waist was now a wreck, and all his wires were now exposed for the father to see. Before the mutant could take another shot though, the Electromagnetic Yo-Yo malfunctioned. The damage to the gun had also rendered many of the ammo types inoperable, and the yo-yo ended up shocking Browny.

The tiny robot flew backwards as a few failed shots hit the space he used to occupy. Browny's body struggled to stay up. He could function fine, but his center of gravity shifted. Browny decided to instead fite from the ground, propping himself up out of range of the squid's scope and checking his gun for damage. The rubble that was hiding the Father shifted as the cephalopod mutant tried to find Browny again.

Browny's gun would no longer be able to fire the yo-yo or Shield Chaser, and although the boomerang-like Gemini Scatter seemed to work, he wouldn't chance it for fear of it malfunctioning as it returned to him. Browny instead went back to the Victory Laser. That pile of rubble was no longer a good enough shield for the priest.

Father Squid's robe was already scorched from the Burning Browny attack, but now it was singed even more as Victory Lasers tore through the rubble and hit the squid hard. Father Squid had been content to camp there, but the lasers taught him the lesson many FPS-players wish they could teach noobs. Unlike those noobs though, Father Squid would have been happy to stop camping, but he hadn't realized how heavy the rubble on top of him was. He shook back and forth desperately, hoping against hope that he would be able to escape the rubble.

Unable to escape, the squid chose to instead open fire wildly with his Barret M82. The wall behind Browny barfed up chalky air as it absorbed the blasts, and although none hit Browny, they were dangerously close. Browny had to stop his attack to start scooting to a safer attack position. The ceasefire allowed Father Squid to gather up the strength to slam his body into one side of the tomb of church parts. Even at his lessened strength, his great weight prevailed and knocked the side of the pile out, causing the top of the pile to tumble apart. Father Squid poked his head out, and immediately Browny began to fire at the head with his Machine Gun rounds.

Father Squid ducked back into the pile and popped out again, this time holding his gun. A bullet broke the scope, and another hit the Father's shoulder, disabling his dominant arm. Father Squid placed his gun down on the top of the pile, taking a bit more time than most sane people would trying to aim at Browny. Browny was aiming directly at the Father's head, but the inaccuracy of automatic weaponry was hitting all but the Father's head. Even the tiny hat on Father Squid's head took more hits than the squid's face.

Browny attempted a quick switch to his Victory Laser, which would hit the cephalopod's head for sure, but Father Squid's carefully aimed shot slammed into Browny's gun. The already broken gun took a page from the chapel's book and decided it was tired of living. The rifle blew up, destroying Browny's arm with it.

Father Squid was bleeding badly, and as he lined up another shot, he was beginning to doubt that he was still seeing things properly. But it was not a hallucination from blood loss, what he saw was Browny running towards him. The legs still functioned after all, but with the new center of gravity, Browny's torso and head were dragged around the ground from the exposed waist wires. Father Squid could not properly target the dragging head, and many bullets instead got acquainted with the floor.

Browny's legs attempted to scale the molehill of debris to reach Father Squid, but the body could not take the constant bumpy ride. A few wires tore, and the legs stumbled. Browny stumbled down to the bottom of the pile, and the woozy squid turned his gun towards the stationary robot. He fired a shot to the big red eye as he gave the sign of the cross.

After a flurry of sparks the whir of dying machinery, Browny powered off. Father Squid pulled himself out of his molehill and surveyed the wrecked chapel. Perhaps a charity drive was in order to fix this place.

Grabbing the scorched remains of Browny's weapon, Father Squid limped out of the chapel, his mind clearly on things other than his victory here.

Fite 61 (Guest Writer: The Deleter)- Drown Yer' Mates 2: Alcoholic Boogaloo

Ladies and gentlemen.

Boys and girls.

It's time to...

DROWN YER MATES 2: ALCOHOLIC BOOGALOO

Hiyooo, folks! What a sight we've got for you today! A drinking contest for the ages, in which man and beast and things I can't describe in my own words destroy their own livers for your entertainment! Please remember, illegal recordings of this event will prompt visits from the Zoofights Copyruffians, who will promptly remove your limbs and three generations of your family as per Mandate #4172. Please, remember the tragedy of the Wilcox family.

Now, let's go live to the action, at the King of Beasts tavern!

The eight contestants of this match are oblivious to the crowds of punters, bookies and hangers on that fill the tavern tonight, busy as they are getting utterly blotted in preparation for further drunkenness. Wheatley, unable to drink for himself, has enlisted the services of David Wulf to get him to the regulated Crunkness level in return for a crate of lemons. Permafrost the mammoth, Dark Pit and Wall are following suit, downing bottle after dark bottle of dodgy booze, whilst white mage Sarah, fallen angel Morgana and Phantomon are more reserved in their choices.

A cheer erupts from the crowd as the notorious Bat-Boxer-turned-musician-turned-Dj Pat Van Bat takes the stage. The muscly-armed mammal waves to the crowd, trying to ignore the crippling migraines of coke and vodka abuse, and begins to get his set ready.

Take your places, everyone.

LET'S GET READY TO RUMBUUUUUUUUHHHHHLLLLLLLL 

Our first drink of the night, inspired by the frozen countenance and manners of Permafrost the Mammoth, is usually prefaced with a question.

What killed the dinosaurs?

A HUGE punch bowl, wrought of iron, filled with ice-cold rum and croak and covered with a layer of frozen vodka. Our contestants are supplied with straws with sharpened diamond ends, allowing them to bore through the ice like their Inuit ancestors to get at the wonderful alcohol underneath. It's not a drink for the faint of heart.

Indeed, as the competitors grab their straws and begin to frantically stab at the ice, two of the competitors hesitate. However, Sarah only pauses briefly before grabbing her own straw and hacking away at the frozen covering of the first drink. Competitor two, however, has more of a problem.

"Guys?"

Wheatley rocks back and forth in his seat.

"Guys, I, um, I could use a bit of assistance? Anyone?"

No-one takes any notice. Permafrost has already reached the drink beneath the ice, and his apocalyptic gulps are soon followed by the more restrained efforts of the other competitors. Desperate to even BEGIN the damn drinking contest, Wheatley desperately swivels in his housing, trying to do something - ANYTHING - to get at the drink. His dependance on others is his downfall, and no-one seems charitable enough to help him. What, he despairs, can he possibly do?

Then he has a brainwave. A patented, genius, BRILLIANT idea that cannot possibly go wrong.

He suddenly jerks forwards, rolls right off the chair he's sitting on -

"Oi, can't have that, mate! Here!"

The coarse hands of David are Wheatley's salvation as David jams in Wheatley's straw and allows him to take a long, long drink from the pool of blackness. It's ice cold, and all but the frankly terrifying mammoth have had to stop at some points to prevent their mouths going numb. That goddamn mammoth. What is he planning even.

Eventually, the drink is finished. Wheatley groggily looks up at David.

"Cor, thanks mate. Wouldn't have known *hic* what I'd do without yah. I love you mate, I really do..."

Looks like he shouldn't have had that barrel earlier. Wheatley leans sideways, then leans some more, then a bit more, and then drops off the table and rolls...

Right out of the bar door. And although our judges admire the Intelligence Dampening Sphere's desire to keep those doggies movin', this is definitely illegal in some state somewhere.

Looks like it's time for our next dri

Oh god

The roof is

The tables

Why god why

"Wotcha, losers! A little bird told me you were having a drinking contest! I killed it for lying, then paradropped from 3000 feet to check it out myself!"

Saxton Hale throws a muscly arm around Dark Pit's shoulder, cracking the angel's shoulders. He doesn't seem to care.

"Well, looks like I got here just in time! This competition needs to MANN UP. And thankfully, this scraggly little weed here gave me an idea! A drink to defeat all drinks!"

Saxton produces, from somewhere on his person, a barrel of...

Dark Pit's entrant, the Halestorm is made by squeezing an alligator into a glass, and then beating the result into submission. It bites, it fights, and it may cause hairs to grow on your chest, regardless of gender.

The contestants are suitably wary of the drink, even as Saxton rockets away on a jetpack. Who dare take first quaff?

"Fuck it, you cowards. MONGOOOOLIIIAAAAA"

David is the first to the barrel, grabbing a flagon and dragging it through the smoking substance. He raises it to the beak of his mask, and takes a deep, deep drink.

The Halestorm promptly punches him in the throat.

KO

It takes a while for the attendants to drag the unconscious loser away and water down the Halestorm enough to let the other competitors drink their share.

Promptly, so as to cover up the embarrassing failure of the past two competitors, the next drink is wheeled out.

The Seventh Circle, Morgana's drink, is meant to represent sin. Now, sin can mean a lot of things. It can mean stealing, lying, hurting, a thousand things. Our Alcoholmancers, however, have all been busy watching Bad Boys and other shitty cop movies, and thus somehow distilled sex and drugs into these tiny pink glasses, the contents of which are mixed by a blender hooked up to a Lambo engine. Wonderful stuff.

Yeah, this is the drink where everyone gets wacky. As soon as they're downed, Sarah bursts into giggles at absolutely nothing. Phantomon floats over to Permafrost, wide-eyed, and begins pawing at his hariy flank.

"I CAN TOUCH YOU," the Digimon screams at the ancient beast. "IT''S LIKE YOU'RE REALLY THERE!"

Permafrost seems very tolerant of this. In fact, it must be drunk, because the damn thing wouldn't let ANYONE touch him when he came in. The mammoth stares at the middle distance, letting Phantomon continue to paw at it like an interactive museum exhibit.

Morgana stares at the ceiling, reciting a nursery rhyme in Enochian with a voice that a million singers would kill to have. Dark Pit and Wall stare at Morgana. They're, like, not even hiding it.

"Sweeeeeet cans," mutters Dark Pit far too loudly.

"Totally, duuuude," responds Wall. "Like, I'd just like to get up close, like, reeeaaaaalll close, so close you can smell her, y'know what I mean, right, right..."

Wall appears to be sliding down his wall like molasses down a kitchen tile.

"And then I'd, I'd, I'd stick my,,, what was it, nose, ears, chin got eyes... Damn, I lost it, can, can someone... someone help me out here..."

Ungraciously, Wall hits the floor of the bar.

"I can't feel my toes... Zzzzzzzz"

KO

Wall wins the "Honest Lightweight Award" at least.

The next drink is in memory of our fallen comrade, David Wulf. Let us take a minute's silyeah fuck no let's get on with it.

This, ladies and gents, is the Nerve Staple - a sweet, deep purple drink made with a few lashes of that wonderful neurotoxin we call botulinum. Thankfully, our mixers have managed to find the correct dosage, so the worst thing the drink can do is produce a numbing effect in the body, the strength of which ranges from “relaxing” to “all of my limbs just fell asleep.” Stronger strengths are now available at discount from the bar!

Our heroes down these drinks without complaint, mostly because at this point they wouldn't be able to say no. And not mentally, either - they've probably forgotten what the word "no" means. Of course, combining these effects with a drink that numbs the body isn't a good idea at all.

To the delight and amusement of all present, Permafrost raises its trunk and begins to trumpet a merry jazz tune, much to the displeasure of a tired and grumpy Pat Van Bat. Come on, bat, swing it. Swing it like you mean it.

Morgana and Dark Pit are now sitting next to each other, blithering. I could have typed flirting, but that would have implied there was coherent thought going on here.

"Nooooo, you're hotter~"

"Naw, girl, you're, like, you're the hottest. Like, you walk in the room - "

"Oh, stop it. You're hotter than I am."

"No, yoooouuuu~"

Ugh, Christ, let's move on. Where's Sarah? Oh, she's riding on top of the mammoth. Okay then.

Phantomon, however, doesn't look so good.

Yeah, that's, like, the saddest Digimon, right there. Looks like the combination of alcohols has messed him up good. Isn't someone gonna help him?

Anyone?

No, wait, too late, there he goes.

KO

It's a shame Phantomon dropped out so quickly. We've got his drink up next! Maybe he could tell us what -

It's a Long Island Iced Tea.

This disappointment is lost on the competitors, who down the drink with wild abandon. We go now to the perceptocameras involuntarily implanted in their minds (don't worry, they dissolve harmlessly!) to see what they're experiencing as they drink this...

This...

Oh.

Okay then.

So, um...

That's Hell.

Biblical Hell.

Who made this fucking drink? I swear, when I find them, I'm going to nail them to a wall, pull out their eyes -

...and then when they - huh?

KO

Sarah, being of a delicate disposition, is not accustomed to the sight of people in boiling lakes of fire. Also there was a shitload of alcohol in that. Shock and drunkenness has knocked her out.

Hey, at least it wasn't an allergy.

The atmosphere is really down. Dark Pit and Morgana are stunned by their experience, sitting at their tables, unmoving. (The mammoth doesn't seem to give a shit.) Thankfully, the next drink, suggested from the mind of our recently departed contestant, should help bring back some cheer. About the same time, Pat Van Bat finds THE perfect song for the moment.

The Iblitza is sugar incarnate, a condensed sugar elemental in a glass with way too much food colouring. Dentists cackle in its presence, with dollar signs in their eyes. Children faint. This drink was once famously used in a bombing raid in 1942 on London, resulting in mass cases of diabetes and rotting teeth. It's a weapon in a cup. Also, it's on the house! Everyone grab one!

This drink is downed quite quickly by all three contestants, and after a short while, the sugar high kicks in. There seems to be signs of life from the two humanoids! Namely, giggling and sharing of terrible jokes, most of which are so bad even the crowd's groans in horror cannot be printed. For Permafrost's part, he appears to have stolen the hat of a red-suited fellow and placed it on his head. It looks rather fetching.

But it's not enough! Bring on the next drink!

A popular beverage at Wall's workplace, the Tooth Rattler constantly vibrates in whatever receptacle it is held in. This includes your mouth. The drink can be tailored to the individual's taste - here, it's at a fairly mild strength, akin to having an electric toothbrush on every tooth. Stronger varieties can be ordered at the bar at a discount!

Permafrost, having larger teeth than most, downs the drink with ill complaint. However, Dark Pit and Morgana giggle at each other, taking turns to sip the drink and contort their vibrating faces into weird expressions. It's quite amusing, if you happen to be a chimp.

And one of these monkeys gets a bright idea!

"Hey, hey... sweetcheeks! Whatch thish!"

Dark Pit flies upwards...

And hits his head on a rafter beam, knocking himself out. Nice going, asswipe. You don't even GET a KO image for that one. Morgana, for her part, is too busy laughing hysterically to notice anything wrong.

KO

It's down to the last two competitors. Morgana, proud and determined (giggly and slumped) against the immovable Permafrost. Nothing seems to have fazed this mammoth so far, and judging by the flow of cash and the roars of the crowd, he looks set to be the favourite. But only this last drink will tell.

As Pat Van Bat plays the final record of the night, the final drink is brought in.

Ladies and gents, I'm not going to lie. The Avacadoom is fucking disgusting. It tastes as bad as it looks. But frankly, after making all those other drinks, everyone was absolutely trollied, and this was the best we could do. Plus, we think it reflects its mastermind really well.

Avocado sucks anyway.

Silence.

Both competitors take their bowls, Permafrost inserting his trunk into the gloop and drinking long and deep. It's awful. Flaying the skin from your back would be more fun. It's a torture test for the stomach. But it must be done, for whoever conquers this drink shall be crowned King (or Queen) of the Drinks. We just made that up as a reward. It's all to play for!

The drinks are finished. Morgana slams her bowl down with a grimace. Her eyes lock with Permafrost's.

She senses age behind the eyes, a timeless, broiling rage at being brought into a world without ice, a hot world of noise and chocking and annoyances it'd love to swat. The grinding glacier of that mind wears at the rock of her soul. She stares at the black, unblinking orbs, unable to look away, wondering what the massive mammal truly thinks...

What Permafrost is thinking is "I could use a nap."

KO

Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls...

As cheers of victory and howls of rage erupt through the bar, as Pat Van Bat staggers off to scour away some more brain cells with drugs, and as Morgana stands on the table cheering in triumph, a familar figure picks up a bigass bottle of booze.

"Hey, who said this thing had to end?"

He's got a point. Bartender, I'll have what everyone else is having.

-FIN-