Olympic Stadium

 

 

     Vast and large, this circular stadium is to house the main events for the Monacus Olympics. Stands surround the center field, with chairs ranging from small sizes to much larger ones, able to seat Transformers of nearly every size. In the very center of the stadium is a raised platform about 30 meters (100 feet) on each side, obviously some sort of fighting arena. Ringing this platform is a wide, level expanse with different numbered rows, which borders the outside of the stands. And yet there is still a lot of empty space in the arena.

     Outside of the stadium are abandoned buildings, the remains of an area that Pangalactic Industries is in the process of rebuilding.

 

People:

Scrapper

 

Objects:

Combat Pit 4              Miztli Man-Beast          Miztli's Bitchin' Wheels

The stands                Combat Pit 2              Combat Pit 3

Combat Pit 1              Commentator's Booth

 

Obvious exits:

West <W> leads to Monacus Highrise Hotel.

South <S> leads to Last Chance Alley.

East <E> leads to PGI Office Block.

 

Onslaught has arrived.

 

Fulcrum has arrived.

 

Cement Truck <Mixmaster> has arrived.

 

Swindle has arrived.

 

Thrangar the Repulsive hovers into the arena, numerous toad like toadies trailing after him. "Ahhh" he burbles, "Mayhem, violence, and free food... I do so love these events." Thrangar lazily reaches into a jar beside him and selects a large squealing slug-thing which he surveys critically for a moment before popping it into his mouth. Whole. "Whrff mrr frrff frrf!" he asks, looking around.

 

Thrangar the Repulsive

 

A bloated green mass of slimy flesh crouched atop a hover-platform who's antigravs groan under the strain, Thrangar's many red eyes dart this way and that, searching for the next meal while his lipless mouth quivers and slavers. Three surprisingly slender arms each terminate in 3 digits - usually used for shovelling live foot innto Thrangar's revolting gullet.

 

"And I say that Omega Supreme may be smarter than a piece of toast, but /definitely/ not as smart as a garbage can." Scrapper says, continuing the age-old question of just how stupid Omega really is. "And not one of those smart garbage cans, either." Scrapper quickly adds. "I mean one of the ones that don't even have the flip lid thing." Yes, folks, Scrapper and Mixmaster are enjoying the games! Aliens of all walks and sizes of life wander about as the Cybertronians cut their way through the crowd. Heading slowly towards the stadium are the two lean, green, fightin' machines. Both are sucking on energon drinks. Scrapper has a straw, and is somehow able to drink it even though he does not possess a mouth. "Boy these games are great. I heard there's going to be a science fair this year, Mixmaster. A science fair! I ask you, how can we Constructicons /not/ win an event like this?"

 

Onslaught stands in the corner with a welding torch as he repairs some damage that he was given a few days ago from Snarl. He growls as he makes some major repairs to his armour. He looks up and sees Swindle. He puts away the torch and examines the weld scar on his arm and says, "Unacceptable, But i expect it will be strong enought for the contest." He then walks towards swindle and says, "I hope you are cromulent brother, We now face the Constructicons, are you prepaired for combat?" his optic flicker slightly as the promice of combat runs through his systems, Micro inducers flame into life as his systems prepair and move him from his normal configuration into his combat configuation.

 

Mixmaster continues the debate with Scrapper as he casually sucks on his energon-drink. It's in one of those disposable cups with the plastic lid on top, like you get at fast food places. In between his words, he loudly sucks the last energon from his container. "Waitwaitwait. A piece of toast? >SSSSSSSHHHHP< What kind? I mean... if there were come kind of condiments on it, say.. >SSSSSHHHP< butter, or (hee,) Strawberry Jam.. >SSSSHHHHHP-SHHHP< I doubt he'd still be smarter. And what kind of bread too? It can't be any of those fancy types, you know. >SSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHP< Mixmaster continues to get the last few energon dregs from his container, before tossing it over his head, into the crowd behind him. "And as for the science project.. well I /was/ going to submit the science of deliciousness of contaminated energon.. but I've decided to submit a project I worked on earlier." What that is, he does't say. What, you think he's going to give his brother a chance to gain an upper hand in the /real/ challenge?

 

Swindle slowly makes his way through the expectant crowd, his optics flickering over as many beings as he can, keeping a careful note of anyone in particular who appears to be potential mark. In this manner he drifts slowly towards the Transformers' sections of the arena. He appears to be carrying a tray containing various knick-knack that he thinks he might be able to sell to the enthusiastic crowds. Amongst these items is a pot containing a number of small flags, suitable for supporters to wave, most of which bear the Decepticon sigil. As he moves through the crowd, he can be seen to sell a number of small items from his tray. As his team leader addresses him he glances upwards and shrugs, a warm smile on his face. "Prepared enough for the likes of them, perhaps."

 

Springer has arrived.

Springer moves bipedily into view.

 

"MRRFH PRRH FRR MRRF!" Thrangar asks again, pieces of alien spittle and half digested food sraying from his mouth. Swallowing, he repeats himself. "Where the VLART are these automating fighting drone, or what ever it is that are fighting here? Eh?" A cronie stands on tim-tentacles to whisper in what you can only assume is an ear. "Transblormers! Would the Transblormers get into the ring! I'm beginning to lose my patience here!"

 

Scrapper doesn't care about whatever lame-brane <sic> thing his brother is planning for the science fair. It can't be better than what Scrapper is planning, and it probably has nothing to do with him anyway. "I'm going to bring my artwork. First, it'll freak out the Auto-dorks, and second, I can call it the Wonders of Recycling!" Scrapper spreads his hands out majestically as he says that, and somehow it sounds like there was a booming echo momentarily. "And no, I mean the crappy bread. The no-name stuff that all the poor fleshlings buy. That other stuff... with all the things humans need to live... nah, Omega can't compete with that." Scrapper takes a not-as-noisy-as-Mixmaster sip of his energon drink, still only halfway finished with it. Scrapper can hear one of the crazy judges shouting something. But he doesn't pay him any mind. There's lots of Transblormers he might be speaking to.

 

Onslaught looks at the tray and says, "Impressive, But consider the losing side... I suggest you sell Autobot flags aswell. They need hope... for us to destroy." He looks around the crowd of people arriveing for the festivites and can't help but notice the green form of Springer entering the arena with a number of other autobots he looks back to swindle and says, "I see the riff raff have arrived..." he then hears a 'so called' call for Transformer from the arena and says, "I expect thats for us. Shall we enter the fray.." He didn't mean that as a question but more of an order as he twists his neck and feels his arms expermenterly as he walks towards one of the combat pits.

 

Swindle quirks a brow, amused to hear Onslaught giving /that/ advice. Of course, he's not going to volunteer the fact that he /is/ selling Autobot flags as well, that wouldn't be wise. "I wouldn't let anyone else hear you say that, Boss." He comments, smirking. He nods his head and sighs as Onslaught orders him to prepare for the event. Sealing the tray, he removes it from his neck and, as he approaches the combat pit, places it by the side, where he can keep an eye on it.

 

Mixmaster is satisfied that he got his point across. "So where does he stand in comparison to a used piece of sticky tape?" He then holds his hand up to his face and makes a sucking sound. It takes a while before he notices that his drink was thrown away before. By.. /someone/. Possibly Scrapper. Mixmaster exacts righteous lime green justice by stealing Scrapper's drink from his hands, mid-slurp! After a triumphant gulp, He looks about wondering when these damn Transblormers are going to show up.

 

Thrangar the Repulsive wipes some spittle from his torso and flings it into the crowd with some irritation. "WHERE ARE THE TRANSBLORMERS?!" he bellows. "Ah.. there you are..." he remarks in a more normal tone, spotting Onslaught and Swindle, "...Combat Pit 3, if you will." He watches the two Combaticons critically. "Do you lot bleed? I do hope so."

 

Meanwhile, in the crowd, Earl and Murray, last members of the Transblormer race, look at each other quizzically. "Does.. he mean us?" Earl asks, Murray just shrugging.

 

"Used on what?" Scrapper asks Mixmaster back. "Sometimes used tape is still pretty good and can be reused without problems. Remember when I duct taped Scavenger's head back on? That was an example of when it /can't/ be reused without problems..." Scrapper takes another sip of his energon drink. It takes a while before he notices that his drink was stolen. By... /someone/. Possibly Mixmaster. Scrapper reaches over and snatches his drink back from his brother and gives a big slurp. "Oh... oh! Wait, Mixmaster. The ugly alien means us!" Scrapper leads Mixmaster to Combat Pit 3, whereupon he spies Swindle setting down his tray of flags. "Oh! I'll take one!" he says, reaching into a compartment for the energon sticks with which to pay the Combaticon. He points to one of the Decepticon Flags, preferably one with any lime green or Constructiconisms on it, if there are any.

 

Michael Briar has connected.

 

Swindle looks up as Scrapper makes a request to purchase an item. He looks over the flags for a moment, then pulls out one of the customised flags, he's got them for every sub-team, at least on the 'cons side. The constructicon flag being the decepticon logo in, you guessed it, lime-green. He hands the flag over to Scrapper, taking the payment in return. "Nice doing business with you." He comments, a bright smile on his face.

 

Mixmaster gets yanked by his brother. "But.. but I'm not a Transblormer.." Mixmaster says. The Constructicon Ignores the Combati-shyster and makes his way to the centre ring. Jumping in, he starts energetically jumping around to rally the crowd to his side. "Yeah! Go team green! Yeah!"

 

Onslaught walks towards Pit 3 as he looks at the announcer and snarls behind his face plate as he says, "No, We will not bleed, but you will, When they find your corpse they will not imagen how much blood has come from you.." he then starts to walk into the pit, He dislikes organic creatures at the best of times. But putting their frailties on him is something he isn't going to take that.

 

Onslaught has left.

 

Swindle has left.

 

Combat Pit 3

 

        A recessed arena, ringed by tiers of bleachers to give onlookers an optimal view.

 

Contents:

Swindle

Onslaught

 

Scrapper waves his new Constructicon/Decepticon flag around, "A pleasure, as always. Remember about your list, Swindle." Presumably Scrapper has sent him said list. "And the same goes with any Autobot parts. I'll give top of the line energon for it." Scrapper loves to abuse MSE resources, but in this case, with all the extra energon Galvatron's been giving the Constructicons, it probably won't actually be needed. Scrapper makes his way back to his side of the ring, still waving his flag around as Mixmaster cheers. He snickers at Mixmaster, "Threatening a judge... I think we have this one in the bag, Mixmaster."

 

Thrangar the Repulsive has arrived.

 

"Ha!" Thrangar snorts, following them into the ring. "The crowd have come here to see you Transblormers bleed, not old Thrangar!" The crowd roars its approval at this and holds up a variety of signs and flags; "Onslaught 3:16", "Stone Cold Scrapper", and "Go Transblormers!" amongst them. "Now.. who's up first?"

 

Mixmaster has arrived.

 

Swindle nods as Scrapper reminds him about the list of aqcuisitions. "Yeah, I know, I was going to work on that shortly, but something...came up." He gestures around them, indication that he means the fight. He moves into his corner and peers up at Onslaught as the Judge queries who shall begin the fight.. "You or me, Boss?"

 

Onslaught whispers to Swindle, "I think logic would suggest that you enter first, As soon as your damaged i'll replace you, That way we will see what they have in mind for us. I expect their stratagy isn't complex, They have never been a team of subtle details..." he grins behind his faceplate as he looks towards Scrapper and says, "Well Scrapper, This should be intresting indeed." his optics flicker slightly as he looks at the Combaticon commander, he doesn't take much notice of Mixmaster.. but he is in his plans.."

 

Mixmaster's continuing to jump around and gather support for the team. "Huh?" he says as he turns to Scrapper, wondering what he's talking about. Mixy stops jumping and goes over to Scrapper. He extends a clenched fist. "So, to figure out who goes first?"

 

Swindle nods to Onslaught, "Gotcha bro. I'll see what I can do." This said he makes his way into the centre of the ring, raising one arm into the air as he gazes out at the Olympic crowd, resulting in a number of jeers and cat-calls, as well as a few desultory cheers. Perhaps as the events continue a better crowd might turn up. Grinning anyway, he bows gracefully to the crowd and turns to face the Constructicon corner as they decide who he shall face.

 

Scrapper stops waving his flag about long enough to extend his fist. "Ok then." He and Mixmasto the three motions a la rock/scissor/paper and then says, "Go!" And who wins the little game?

 

Mixmaster ducks just in time from Scrapper's flying fist, while an uppercut lands square on Scrappy's jaw. Mixy wins! "Good old rock, wins every time." Mixy says, before he approaches and faces Swindle. "May the best *cough*green*cough* mech win.." he says, a sly smirk on his face.

 

Thrangar the Repulsive uses different eyes to appraise the two chosen to begin, red pupils swivelling independently. "Very well! Here are the rules! Only one from each team in the ring at a time! No hitting in the xdggregs! And the most important rule of all.... MAKE IT GOOD! Thousands of bloodthirsty morons are depending on you to give their worthless existances meaning, and to quell the squealings of their misbegotten spawn... so give them a specatacle! And remember - the losers win an all expenses paid trip to Blorch! Home of the slaughtering Rat-People! The winners get the option of NOT going! Now... Let the sensless beating... COMMENCE!"

 

The crowd ROARS! The match has begun!

 

Scrapper falls down on his butt, having lost the traditional Constructicon game! Getting back to his feet, Scrapper rubs his chin, "I /knew/ I shoulda gone for paper..." Scrapper mutters. Scrapper makes his way over to just outside the ring, hanging into the thick cables that circle it. "Go Mixmaster!" he shouts, waving his new Decepticon flag around.

 

Onslaught remains silent as he folds his arms over his chest as he watches Mixmaster, He doesn't look at Swindle at all, he knows that Swindle can be as underhanded as anyone else in the Decepticons so in a tag event it should all be in Swindles best intrest. Onslaught examines what style Mixmaster is using as he moves around the ring. He smiles as he considers what actions he can take against him if he gets in the ring with him.

 

Swindle treats Mixmaster with an appraising look, attempting to sum up his combat abilities. That, however, is /not/ his forte. In the absence of anything better to do, and of any knowledge of The Plan(tm), he simply takes a leap backwards to gain some distance and, raising his pistol.+ooc +size

 

Swindle treats Mixmaster with an appraising look, attempting to sum up his combat abilities. That, however, is /not/ his forte. In the absence of anything better to do, and of any knowledge of The Plan(tm), he simply takes a leap backwards to gain some distance and, raising his pistol, fires off a spray of ballistic rounds, as he has no idea what to call it.

 

Swindle strikes Mixmaster with don't hit me, please?.

 

Mixmaster's hull is hard, but the ballistics still pierce his hyde. "Maestro?" He looks at his brother. "Some travelling music, please." And with that, Mixmaster draws his own weapon. "This is for that time you guys got Starscream to beat us up!" He yells at Swindle, before blasting his opponent. He starts running towards his opponent to close the distance.

 

Mixmaster misses Swindle with his Laser Pistol! (High) attack.

 

Scrapper puts his hands to his faceplate as Swindle wins round one and shouts, "Boooo! Foul! Foul, I say! Are your optics /blind/, judge?" he demands of the strange alien Thrangar. "Swindle is clearly using an illegal procedure on my brother! This calls for disqualification!" Scrapper doesn't bother mentioning /what/ illegal procedure might have been done since there wasn't one.

 

Onslaught grins behind his faceplate as he watches the contest, only a few blows have hit their targets at the moment and it seems at this very early stage that Swindle has everything in hand and soon Mixmaster will be in the bargin bin.

 

Thrangar the Repulsive ooohs. "And the tiny green automaton proves that, while green is obviously the most superior color in the universe, he's just not green /enough/! A poor shot by...uh...Brickmaster!"

 

Swindle leaps nimbly sideways, landing in a roll which brings him back to his feet, hands on his hips in a confident pose. Responding to Mixmaster's clumsy attempts at combat banter with a smirk, he returns "Which time was that? I didn't realise you guys were able to keep track of that high a number." Snapping up his right up he fires a few rounds from the large blaster located there.

 

Swindle strikes Mixmaster with its Gyro Gun. attack.

 

Thrangar the Repulsive finally notices Scrapper's comments. "Quiet you! Or I'll have you thrown to the vicious Knids!"

 

Scrapper snorts and shakes his fist at Thrangar, "Oh yeah? Well start paying attention or I'll throw you to the flaginees! See? I can make up idiotic words, too." He retorts at the alien. Scrapper has his trumpet all ready for when Mixmaster stops sucking, which is what he is going to do right fricking now!

 

Mixmaster is about to come up with the best comeback EVAR to Swindle, when his systems start locking down from the Combati-jerk's blast. "Ugggh.." he mutters as he tries to break free from his attack. "Geeetttt you..." You know, this would totally have worked better if he had some /music/ like he asked..

 

Swindle slowly approaches the immobile form of the Constructicon with a smug swagger. He spends a short time simply standing before his lime-green opponent to allow him to absorb an implied insult. Swindle has no need to verbally abuse his opponent this round. Reaching behind his opponents head, he takes a firm hold and drags it down to forcefully meet with Swindle's knee.

 

Swindle strikes Mixmaster with Knee to the FACE!.

 

That knee in the face is exactly what Mixmaster needed. Thanks, Swindle! Mixy extends a nozzle from the top of his headpiece, connected directly into his cauldron's storage tanks. He aims for his opponent, (and a better part of the ring, it's a wide nozzle after all,) and unleashes a powerful acid. Stupid Combaticons.

 

Mixmaster unleashes his Wide-Angle Acid Spray! attack on Swindle, striking no one.

 

Onslaught laughs as he watches the spectical in the ring, Swindle kicking the Constructicon's tail across the ring. He looks over to Scrapper and says, "I see your continuing Constructicon training sessions.." he laughs loudly as he watches Mixmaster then says, "Excellent Swindle." He unfolds his arms as he draws his large blaster rifle from subspace and holds it besides him as he watches the fight in the ring.

 

Scrapper starts reaching out with his hand while putting down his trumpet WHICH APPARENTLY ISN'T GOING TO BE USED, "Tag me, Mixmaster! Tag me!" he shouts, waving his outstretched hand around frantically. The Constructicon leader snorts back at Onslaught. "Yeah, well I'd like to see Swindle make an energon martini. THEN I'd be impressed."

 

Thrangar the Repulsive says, "Brickmaster is taking a pounding from Spindle here.. That knee to the face is just what the audience at home likes to see! And it made me thirsty for a cool, refreshing Ebola Cola! Ebola Cola! The soda that drinks you!" Thrangar guzzles the beverage, then does a spit take, spraying filthy brown liquid everywhere. "This tastes like CR...uh... Ebola Cola! Mmm! And it's obviously give Brickmaster the will to fight back, as he unleashes a blast from the glands in his rear! Beautiful!"

 

Swindle manages, through dint of effort, to manouvre himself behind Mixmaster as he sprays the ring with his acid mixture. takinf advantage of the other's distraction, he raises his arm-mounted blaster again and, switching it's function, fires a number of explosive projectiles over a wide area.

 

Swindle strikes Mixmaster with Scatter Blaster.

 

Mixmaster dodges some of the blasts, but some hit. This isn't faring well for everyone's friendly neighbourhood Constructicon.. Mixy makes the run to his end of the ring. "Scrapperrrrr!" He yells like he's going to tell on Swindle. "This slagging creep isn't letting me hit him!" TAG.

 

Swindle frowns as Mixmaster runs off cryin' to mom-errr, to make the tag, yeah. He's been lucky so far, luckier than he deserves, and he can't shake the feeling that it's not going to hold. He stands and waits for his new opponent, keeping a wary optic on Scrapper.

 

Scrapper touches Mixmaster's hand and vaults over the rings. "Grrrr." he says, putting on his mad face. The Constructicon draws out his pistol and waves it around threateningly. "The only ones allowed to make Mixmaster look like an idiot is Mixmaster!" he shouts. The Constructicon glances over at the judge, "Get ready to start announcing that team green is taking the lead, buddy boy, because we Constructicons are still the first." Scrapper takes aim and fires off a blast. "The Original." Fires off another. "And still the BEST Combiner Squad our race has ever known!" He fires off the third shot. BLAM BLAM BLAM!

 

You strike Swindle with Mixing it up with a Masterful shot.

 

Thrangar the Repulsive says, "An early tag from Brickmaster... not surprising considering the pathetic performace we've seen earlier... but his partner Scabbers fares much better! COME ON YOU PILES OF SCRAP! BLEED!"

 

Swindle yelps as he moves too slowly and one of Scrapper's shots lances into his shoulder, he clutches at it briefly before taking thought as to his counter-attack. "What the hell, this worked before..." He mutters as he raises his arm-mounted blaster, which looks far more impressive than it actually is. Jabbing out his arm he fires off a quick burst at his new opponent.

 

<Attack:> Swindle used special. (&combatspam me=1 to stop this.)

You are temporarily incapacitated by Swindle's Gyro Gun. attack.

 

Scrapper starts charging towards Swindle, "The judge wants bleeding, Swindle, and you're the most likely one for the job right now..." Still holding onto his pistol, Scrapper cracks his green knuckles, trying to advance into melee range. But his run is aborted when he gets a full blast of gyro goodness. Scrapper stumbles as his systems try and compensate for the problem. "Yikes..." Scrapper says, getting all wobbly on his feet. Scrapper fires at what he thinks is Swindle, but instead winds up sending the blast upwards into the stands. Thankfully, it's a holoshot and the spectator is a-ok.

 

Swindle approaches Scrapper as he is affected by his attack. This time however, there is no hint of the confident swagger, and he is still clutching his wounded left shoulder. Raising his right arm, he pulls it back and swings it around, aiming to strike his face not with his fist, but with his arm-mounted blaster.

 

Meanwhile, in the stands, Murray, one of the last remaining Transblormers, clutches his chest at the shock of a shot from the pit flying right through him, even if it did no damage. "Arrrg! My heart!" Earl looks on, concerned. "You okay Murray?" Murray bangs on his chest, then nods. "Yeah, the other one's still okay."

 

<Attack:> Swindle used punch. (&combatspam me=1 to stop this.)

Swindle strikes you with blaster to the jaw. for 4 points of damage.

 

Scrapper once again loses to Constructicon Rock-Scissor-Paper, but this time it isn't even to a Constructicon. Stumbling back as his gyros begin to restabilize, Swindle's blow isn't quite enough to knock Scrapper down. Uncaring about the injury in the stands, Scrapper hunches down low, "Oh ho, Swindle," he says, putting away his gun. "A melee battle is what you want? Very well, but I think you're going to find that the odds are now to /our/ advantage." Scrapper leans to one side and throws himself at Swindle, trying to bodycheck him into the ground with his shoulder hockey-style.

 

You strike Swindle with Bonecrushing Smash.

 

"MRFHFHFHFFF!" Thrangar says through a mouthful of slug. "Grrhf mrrg frr blurrr!!"

 

Mixmaster yells foul! "No fair, ref!" he yells as he points at Swindle's Gyro attack. "That's a.. a hand-ball.. or something!" Mixy is also peeved that his brother can actually connect. He makes a mental note to explain this away by saying that he deemed Swindle as unworthy of his lime green hands touching him.

 

Swindle is knocked off his feet by Scrapper's attack. Uttering a cry of surprise mingled with pain, he lands on his back on the floor of the pit. Reacting quickly he rolls backwards and springs to his feet. Assessing his damage he turns towards his team's corner and quickly moves to tag in his team leader "This one's yours Boss.

 

Scrapper gulps as Swindle tags in his partner. Scrapper was kinda hoping Mixmaster would have to deal with the powerful Combaticon Commander. "Er... hiya, Onslaught." he says, getting kind of nervous already. Scrapper looks over his shoulder as Mixmaster tries in vain to get the ref on their side. He ponders tagging in Mixmaster already, but figures that just wouldn't be right.

 

Onslaught grins and isn't worred about Swindle, he looks towards Mixmaster and says, "Shame, You really thought you would win didn't you..." he laughs as he turns back and sees Swindles hand. He tags it solidly as he slowly steps over the ropes. With his large blaster in hand he says, "Scrapper we meet atlast, This will indeed be entertaining." he keeps his optics on Swindle as he says, "Excellent work Swindle, You have done your family proud." he then in one fluid movement he draws his blaster then fires off a concussion round towards the constructicon commanders right arm.

 

<Attack:> Onslaught used Compressed_Air. (&combatspam me=1 to stop this.)

Onslaught strikes you with Boltgun <Concussion Round> for 9 points of damage.

 

Thrangar the Repulsive hiffs a half-eaten slug at Mixmaster. "Team Green's chances just take a nosedive, as Coldslaw steps into the ring, and already Scabbers looks like he wants to crawl into a hole somewhere.

 

Mixmaster catches the slug in the off-chance that it will qualify as a referee-bribe. "Saving /that/ for later.." he mutters. "Go on, Scrapper! He's not that big! Or strong! Or tactically superior! Uh.." Mixy thinks about how encouraging he is. "Don't worry, brother. You're still greener!"

 

"Well," Scrapper says, "Actually, I did think that we had a chance, but that's when I was working under the theory that Mixmaster wasn't going to HORRIBLY SUCK!" Scrapper looks over his shoulder menacingly at his brother. This turns out to be bad timing as Onslaught blasts him with the round, striking Scrapper on the targeted right arm. Scrapper drops his gun from the damage done. A smoldering hole can be seen, blowing right through Scrapper's tough Constructicon armour. "'Entertaining'... Right." Scrapper summons up his warrior's instinct (he once read See Joecon Punch. Punch, Joecon, Punch!) all the way through. Ignoring his wounded arm and pistol, he draws out his light sabre with his left hand and lunges for the Combaticon. "A shame this is holographic, Onslaught. No art from your carcass!"

 

You strike Onslaught with Instrument of Construction.

 

Swindle lounges indolently outside the ring, optics taking in the superiority of his team leader, as a smug smirk dances across his face. He finds himself rather liking this referee, something that might have to do with Onslaught and Swindle being so far the leading team in this little /soiree./

 

Thrangar the Repulsive says, "But Scabbers isn't giving up yet, as he unleashes an attack which I'm sure I've seen somewhere before... in a movie starring some filthy bags of meat and hair... I think it was called "Crazy Fighting Inicident In Space"...or something. Anyway....BLOOOD! BLOOOOD!"

 

Onslaught staggers backwards as the saber slices through a few layers of armour on his chest plate. He regains his balace as he looks down at Scrapper and says, "Impressive, I must admit I thought the performace was impressive, but the final delivery was as expected... weak." With that he takes a few steps backwards as he considers his movements and decides to perform a wrestling move. He breaks into a sprint as he extends his arm and tries to knock off Scrappers head witha Clothesline From Hell.

 

<Attack:> Onslaught used smash. (&combatspam me=1 to stop this.)

Onslaught strikes you with Clothesline from Hell for 9 points of damage.

 

At the judge's request, Scrapper's face starts to bleed. Smashed square in the faceplate (that's the third time for you kids watching at home and keeping count). Yes, it now has three huge dents in it. "Weak?" Scrapper coughs. The Constructicon shows his powerful disdain for Onslaught by bleeding some more. Realizing that bleeding isn't going to impress Onslaught, Scrapper decides to do the Constructicon thing and crawl away from the Combaticon. Desperate to reach his side of the arena, Scrapper extends a shakey hand, "If I suffer, YOU suffer!" he shouts. TAG.

 

"I don't wanna suffer!" Mixmaster yells in pure terror. But it's too late. Before he could pull his hand away, Scrapper has tagged it. Mixmaster's face turns from terror to pure sour, as if he nearly considers beating up Scrapper for the injustice. "We'll talk later." He says as he climbs over the ropes. "Not so big.." he mutters nervously to himself as he gets his gun out. "Not so strong..." Mixy does his best to muster up some courage. He rushes his opponent. Doing a leap-kick at the last minute, hoping to land square on Onslaught's chest with both cab-like feet.

 

Mixmaster misses Onslaught with his Cement Shoes attack.

 

Thrangar the Repulsive starts chewing on another slug. "Grph. There goes Brickmaster again. Where did they get these little green guys?"

 

Onslaught laughs at Scrapper as he says, "I see, Construticon remain to have there special ways to victory... crawl away and allow real warriors to fight the wars.." he laughs again as he watches Mixmaster as he enters the ring, He thinks to himself that this conflict has been better managed then expected. Mixmaster attempts to kick Onslaught but he just sidesteps and says to mixmaster, "I will give you a chance to remain in one piece.. Surrender and we will let function. But first..." He then grasps Mixmaster by his neck, holds him there for a moment then attemps a choke slam.

 

Onslaught strikes Mixmaster with Chokeslam.

 

Scrapper crawls through the rings and is now content with laying there. "Hmmm." He turns his head to watch Mixmaster start up with the sucking once more. "I bet if I made a run for it, he'd never catch me." Scrapper considers. But no, he can't abandon his brother no matter how much he may want to. Scrapper grabs his flag with one hand and waves it about. Reaching through the ropes with his other, he gets his pistol back. Dun dun dunnnn.

 

Thrangar the Repulsive isn't watching Scrapper do whatever it is that he's doing there, being far too busy complaining to a harrassed looking Junkion official that hes' run out of slugs.

 

Swindle rubs his chin as he sees Scrapper resume his flag-waving. A thought trips its merry way across his devious mind and he wonders whether it would be beneficial to him to learn more about technical matters, he takes a moment to note something down in his book and returns his attention to the fight, to relish in the sight of Onslaught kicking aft.

 

Mixmaster is getting SICK of this whole missing attack thing. "That's a nice offer.. can I attack you before giving you a chance to surrender too?" He manages to wheeze from his crunched neck. Mixy tries to sling a foot in the direction of Onslaught. Hoping not to miss.

 

PLEASE don't miss...

Mixmaster misses Onslaught with his Cement Shoes attack.

Right, that's it, I quit.

Good. Wuss.

 

Scrapper arghs. Maybe screwing around with Mixmaster's optics while he was sleeping wasn't such a hot idea afterall. Back on his feet, Scrapper waves his hand out for Mixmaster, "If you're desperate..." he says grudgingly. He doesn't notice whatever evil thing Swindle is up to.

 

Onslaught uses speed that isn't shown in his large body as he jumps over the kick from the constructicon, He laughs as he says, "Pittiful Decepticon, Your only redeeming feature is that you form Devistator, But i'm afraid he won't help you now.." He draws his blaster again and as he does he lifts it up takes aim and shoots a blast of energy towards Mixmasters knee, He doesn't quite want Mixmaster to make a tag just yet... That is if the shot hits...

Onslaught misses Mixmaster with his Energy Beam attack.

 

Thrangar the Repulsive says, "Look, my contract CLEARLY states that I get free slugs! FREE! ALL I CAN EAT!"

 

"You must be making an honest mix up," Mixmaster says condescendingly to Onslaught. "See, we're the /green/ ones. Those useless ones are the ones that were built from scrapped World War Two machines by Starscream." He extends his nozzle from his headpiece again, accessing a different tank. Instead of an overly corrosive chemical, this stuff is sticky. It'll lock up Onslaught's systems but-good. Assuming Onslaught's miss is a sign of Mixmaster's bad luck ending..

 

Mixmaster strikes Onslaught with his Servo-Gumming Glop attack.

 

Onslaught is struck by what seems to be a ball of slime, His body is still in a position where he is pointing his blaster to where Mixmaster was. He attempts to move but is unable, he laughs as he says, "Make the best of this Mixmaster, I have a feeling that this may be your only chance..." ha contiues to laugh as he waits for Mixmaster to make his move.

 

Thrangar the Repulsive says, "And once more Brickmaster uses his secretions to his advantage! Oh, how this small green vomiting robot reminds me of my dear sweet mother. Right before I devoured her flesh. Ah, memories.."

 

Mixmaster struts up to his opponent as he watches him struggle with the adhesive. "I once mentioned the importance of oral hygeine for those who have faceplate to Galvatron." He says with a smirk. A slight >CHK-KLK< can be heard, as the nozzle accesses a different container. "Now remember to gargle.." And with that, he empties out the best counter-agent to the glop, highly powerful acid, right in Onslaught's face!

 

Mixmaster strikes Onslaught with Wide-Angle Acid Spray!.

 

Scrapper cheers as Mixmaster finally nails Onslaught. Whipping up his trumpet, Scrapper blows a fanfare for his fellow Constructicon. It is a rousy, war-anthem with an upbeat tempo that just makes you want to tap your foot along with the music.

 

Onslaught laughs as he stands there and the acid eats away at the Glop. He grins and says, "Thank you Mixmaster, That restored my systems perfectly..." he laughs as he jumps into the air and with the sound of twisting metal he transforms into his Missile trailer mode, his engine roar into life as he emits, "Poor Mixmaster, I would suggest you start running now..." a laugh is emitted as Onslaught breaks out of the starting blocks like a sports car and attempts to smash Mixmaster into little bitty pieces.

 

Onslaught falls to the ground and twists and shifts into his massive Missile Trailer mode.

Thrangar the Repulsive lets out an almighty bellow of pain. "RAAAAAGH! Sonic attack! The Vlargons are attacking!" The alien's toadies run around in panic, while Thrangar's antigrav chair spins in circles.

 

Swindle spreads his arms and affects a light bow in acquiesence to the Judge's request. He turns once more to observing the fight, trying valiantly to ignore Scrapper's fanfare for his teammate.

 

Mixmaster's dents is added to with a BIG HUGE ONE Square in the middle of his chest. He is sent flying out of the ring, just barely getting his hand to connect with Scrappers as he soars over and crashes onto a table where some various aliens are comentating on the match in their own languages. TAG.

 

One of the aliens falls over, his impressive hat falling to the arena floor. "My hat!" he exclaims, while behind him a skeletal-looking robot is already picking it up and dusting it off.

 

Onslaught watches as Mixmaster tags and says, "Come Scrapper, I have some projectiles with your name on them..." as he reverses and waits for Scrapper to get into the ring.

 

Scrapper tries to duck the flying Mixmaster, but gets tagged anyway. Whoopsie! "Slag it... alright, Onslaught..." Scrapper says, hopping over the ropes, "Time to take out the trash!!" he shouts all dramatic like. "But first, I'm going to have to finish losing this fight." Scrapper puts aside his trumpet and flag and draws out his pistol. "This is why Hot Spot always kicks your sorry rear," Scrapper says, firing a full powered blast at the missile trailer.

 

You strike Onslaught with Devastating blast.

 

Thrangar the Repulsive has a new jar of slugs to chew on, so he's focused on the action once more. In fact, one of his three arms is waving a slug for emphasis. "And Scabbers proves he's no rat as he uses his Death Beam on Coleslaw! Here's hoping that the big mech will be pissed off enough to rip Scabber's arms off and beat him with the soggy ends!

 

Onslaught 's wheels shudder as he the plasma flame lash at the Combaticon commander is burnt, he turns to face Scrapper and says, "Atlast, a real fight... I thought you had no bite at all.. but i see the puppy has small teeth." He laughs as the flames flash out as Onslaught lowers his turret slightly, he pauses for a moment then after a second a bolt of blue plasma shoots out of the turrets and head towards Scrapper.

 

<Attack:> Onslaught used plasma. (&combatspam me=1 to stop this.)

Onslaught strikes you with Plasma-Bolt Battery for 17 points of damage.

 

Mixmaster rights himself up on the table. "Sorry." he says. "Meetozplah." He says to another alien at the table. To the final commentator, he makes some sort of choking sound. It seems all of them understand what he's saying. Mixy doesn't know all that many languages, but he knows how to apologize in most. That, and how to say "Surrender to the lime green sextuplets of doom that is the constructicons!" The heavily dented Constructicon remembers his half-a-slug. He pulls it out of his storage area to show the referee. "Were you after one of these, Thrangar?" he asks, waving it temptingly.

 

Scrapper pffts at Onslaught. He strikes a dramatic pose and points at the Combaticon. "That's where you're wrong, Onslaught. I'll NEVER be a real fight! No... wait..." Scrapper tries to take that back. Insulting people is so much easier when it's Omega or Elita One on the receiving end of things. But a fellow Decepticon who isn't Motormaster? Just a tad harder. The first bolt is neatly avoided by Scrapper, but the second strikes the Constructicon dead on, sending him hurling backwards into the ropes. And, like wrestling tradition states, Scrapper bounces off like Bugs Bunny did in that one episode and is FLUNG back at the Combaticon, fist outstretched in a flying punch o' death!

 

You strike Onslaught with Left Hook.

 

Some of Thangar's red eyes widen. The others are lazily watching the fight. "SECURITY!" he bellows. "That robot stole one of my slugs!" The various security beings don't seem to care as much as Thangar, who's begun to froth at the mouth.

 

Onslaught laughs at Scrappers commect then is struck hard by the punch from the Constructicon. His windows shatter as he is struck along the top of his cab. He remains silent as he locks onto the Constructicon commander and emits a low beep as his weapons change from plasma to missile, he then emits a *BEEP* *BEEP* as the turret takes aim then fires off a pair of high power missiles towards Scrapper.

 

<Attack:> Onslaught used Missile. (&combatspam me=1 to stop this.)

Onslaught strikes you with Photon Missile for 20 points of damage.

 

Scrapper is glad to be up close and personal with the Combaticon, as he figures Onslaught won't be able to dish out missile death at this range. Translation: Scrapper is an idiot. Upon touching back down on his feet after his successful punch, Scrapper prepares to press his advantage by throwing some more punches around, but is instead fired upon at close range. Both missiles shatter the holographic flooring (not for real, natch) in the fiery plume of the explosion, and Scrapper is engulfed in flames. "GRAAGH!" he shouts back at Onslaught. Witty as always, he is. With half of the arena still on fire, and Scrapper standing within it, he fires off a pistol set on the eeeevil setting.

 

You successfully strike Onslaught, who is now temporarily incapacitated.

 

Onslaught is struck again by the stunning tactics from the Combaticons, He emits, "Do your best Scrapper, I'm sick of carrying your team for the audiance..." he growls as he attempts to move.

 

Mixmaster decides to taunt the Thrangar some more. With all his might, he throws the half-eaten slug towards Swindle. "Hey, heads up!" he yells at the last minute as the alien delicacy is FLUGN towards the Combaticon. "Hey, that Spindle guy has your food get him!" He yells.

 

Confidant that he's now got a moment's peace, he breaks out Clarice, his very own extra-special jamming trumpet, to play a rousing tune for Scrapper. Or maybe the theme tune to I dream of Jeannie. Whatever.

 

Scrapper snorts, tired of how this battle is taking its toll on him and Mixmaster. "And I'm sick of having to do both the aft-kicking AND the building around here just because your team is too slaggin' busy elsewhere in the Empire." Scrapper decides it's high time he shows Onslaught a REAL vehicle mode. Folding down into himself, Scrapper seems to grow in size until he is one huge, hulking construction vehicle of pain. No, he isn't going to rebuild Onslaught to death like someone else might (Cough*Smokescreen*Cough). The payloader swivels about and raises its shovel up high. Moving up to Coldslaught, Scrapper brings it back down hard, trying to rip the missiles off this twit.

 

Thrangar the Repulsive seems too agitated to control his hover-platform properly as he spins slowly in place, frothing and ranting. "SLUGS! SONIC ATTACK! BLAAAARG!"

 

Scrapper falls forward, folding his legs up onto his back. His arms slide into his torso to let the wheels grip the ground. From his back, his shovel folds up into the payloader's front.

 

You strike Onslaught with Power Shovel.

 

Swindle's face adopts a neutral expression as the slug-type thing lands squarely on his chest and slips gooily down his torso. With one hand he peels it off himself and, regarding it with distaste, casually flicks it in the direction of the judge.

 

Onslaught is struck and is pushed on his side, he roars as he transforms quickly as he he kneels on the floor and says, "Enough of this, Meet the power of the Combaticons.." he stands up and slowly walks over to the corner and puts his hand out to tag Swindle.

 

Payloader <Scrapper> takes the time that he has to transform back into his still very-wounded robot mode. The Constructicon hacks up some more fluid to keep the bloodthirsty Thrang happy. But Thrang is too busy going after slugs to watch this match! Jerk. Scrapper stumbles backwards a bit towards Mixmaster, in case he has to tag him real-fast like.

The rear section of the payloader unfolds and stands up, revealing two legs. The sides and the wheels slide out to form arms and hands. The shovel itself folds onto the robot's back as Scrapper's head is revealed.

 

Swindle slowly enters the ring, moving cautiously. This isn't a good place for him to be, he is aware. Resignedly he considers what his best move might be. Deciding that the best thing to do is to keep his opponent as far away from him as possible, he draws his delightfully rocket-shaped pistol and fires a number of rounds towards Scrapper.

 

<Attack:> Swindle used ballistic. (&combatspam me=1 to stop this.)

Swindle strikes you with don't hit me, please? for 7 points of damage.

 

You are very conscious that your life is in serious danger in this battle.

 

Thrangar the Repulsive is hit by Swindle's flying slug, which seems to calm him down. "Huh? Eh? Oh, right.. the Transblormers are still fighting. Well HURRY UP!"

 

Scrapper is a smart fellow for having stumbled back towards his brother. He's struck by the blasts and can do little to stay in the match. He slaps Mixmaster's hand and climbs through the ropes, obviously defeated as he lies on his back and dreams of a happier time from the movie when Devastator is kicking ass. This is not that time.

 

Thrangar the Repulsive's anti-grav platform lazily floats over to where Scrapper lies, the blubbery alien reaching down with a shiny metal pokin' stick to prod at the Constructicon leader a couple of times. "Hey! Hey! Scabbers! Hey! ...Ah, to vrax with him... SCABBERS IS OUT! Which leaves Brickmaster to face the deadly duo of Coleslaw and Spindle! Say goodnight, Brickmaster!"

 

Mixmaster grumbles and meeps. He's not looking so hot either.. but he reluctantly climbs back into the ring. "Stupid.. slagging.." He mutters. "Right, let's end this." He continues to grumble as he approaches his foe, throwing a hay-maker of a punch at Swindle.

 

Mixmaster strikes Swindle with Lime Green Fists!.

 

Mixmaster stares at his fist for a moment.. then yells "WHY COULDN'T YOU DO THAT A HUNDRED ASTRO-SECONDS AGO!?!?!"

 

Swindle stands as he waits for Mixmaster to climb into the room, unfortunately, he decides that he has the time to glance over at Scrapper as the Judge calls out that he's out. This turns out to be a mistake, as his inattention permits Mixmaster to attack and, for the first time this match, actually /hit/ him. Swindel stumbles backwards as the blow strikes. Abruptly he falls forwards, transforming as he goes. In his alt mode he speeds away from Mixmaster, gaining some distance. The blaster mounted on him swivels as he moves, spraying the area with a number of small explosions, and hopefully Mixmaster as well.

 

Swindle falls forwards, in a blur of motion, he reconfigures into an average-looking Brown Jeep. Average that is, apart from bristling with weaponry.

 

Swindle strikes Mixmaster with Scatter Blaster <Wide>.

 

"DEAAAATH!" Thrangar screams! "Or at least pain! Think of the thousands of attendance, and the millions watching galaxy-wide!"

 

Mixmaster catches a few rounds from Swindle's jeep, but it's not as painful as it was. "Wow, your weapons systems aren't damaged or anything, are they?" Mixy asks with mock sympathy as he transforms himself. "My heart bleeds." Well, actually, it nearly would bleed if he kept his chest exposed like that. There's little else for him to be damaged. Mixy chases his opponent, only he doesn't stop when he gets close. Nope, he's going in for the kill here, folks..

 

Mixmaster leans down as his legs fold up backwards. He falls down frontwards as he completes his transformation into a Green Cement Truck. His Cauldron begins rotating once again.

 

Cement Truck <Mixmaster> strikes Swindle with Cement Truck Knockdown!.

 

Scrapper watches as Mixmaster and Swindle go at it. He pulls himself up to the top ropes and hangs on. "Oh COME ON!" he shouts at the ref. "I'm still combat worthy! I'm just a little dinged up, is all..." Scrapper wobbles and sinks to his knees, "And seem to be processing a balancing glitch..." he sinks even lower, "And hydraulic failure... and... the inability to... speak... at... a normal... rate..."

 

He can still speak, though. Someone hit him again!

 

Swindle cries out as his jeep form is ramme by a big bully of a cement truck, knocking it painfully into the air. Transforming he lands on his feet, of at least tries to, however one of his legs gives way under him. Dragging himself up again he painfully limps as fast as he can towards his corner, leaving a trail of fluids behind him. "I'm done, Boss, out of it." He gasps as he tags in his team leader.

 

A Brown Jeep springs into the air, his bonnet flips backwards, his boot splits into two and swivel, arms appear from his sides. Swindle has arrived.

 

Onslaught accepts the tag and steps over the ropes again, He looks towards Mixmaster and says, "Shame.." he grins behind his faceplate as he breaks into a sprint and attempts to give Mixmaster what he gave Scrapper earlier, a Closeline from Hell

 

Thrangar the Repulsive says, "And now it's one on one, as the leader of the...uh.." One of Thrangar's flunkies whispers in his ear once more, "...the Come Back Agains, Coleslaw, faces off against the commander of..." *whisper whisper* "...of the Con Truck Gones, Scabbers!"

 

Thrangar the Repulsive says, "...Sorry, I've been informed that was a mistake - Scabbers is the leader of the the Con Truck /Gnomes/."

 

Onslaught tilts up and with the sound of twisting metal forms the Combaticon Commander, Onslaught.

 

Onslaught strikes Cement Truck <Mixmaster> with Clothesline from Hell.

 

Swindle, seeing that he is no longer a part of this fight, retrieves his tray of goods and rifles through the contents. Pulling out a drink and a customised Combaticon flag, he sets the tray down and sits himself down at the side of the ring. Waving the flag in the air he cheers "Go Onslaught!"

 

Cement Truck <Mixmaster> is doing a quick victory circle.. when Onslaught shows up and clotheslines him. How rude. "OWWW!" He yells. "OW OW OW!" Mixmaster is knocked along the ground a way. He tries to transform, but only ends up rolling some more. The Mixing truck rolls right up to the ropes at the farther edge of the ring. "Ow." Mixmaster transforms properly now, and makes his way out of the ring. "Stupid Onslaught.." he barely manages to say before struggling with the ropes and falling flat on his face.

 

The Cement Truck's cab folds down and splits in two, forming Mixmaster's legs and feet. His wheels and part of his sides shift out into his arms, which push himself up. The Constructicon lifts himself up onto his feet and looks eagerly for something to smelt.

 

Thrangar the Repulsive scientifcally appraises Mixmaster's condition with the aide of his proddin' stick, then raises his voice over the roar of the crowd. "Aaaaaaaand the winner.... Transblormer Coleslaw, leader of the Come Back Agains! Give it up for Coooooooooleslaaaaaaaaaaaaw!!!" Flicking his microphone off, he mutters "..Now find me another bucket of slugs, three prostitutes and a moist towlette" to one of his aides as he drifts out of the pit, anti-grav platform whining under the effort.

 

Scrapper waves his Constructicon flag. "Go Mixmaster!" he cheers even though he knows how this is going to end. Nonetheless, he feels his boys performed well, and can always console himself with the fact that, in the end, the Constructicons don't have Vortex on their team. "Ah well, we did our best." The holographic damage vanishes from Scrapper as the match ends, and Scrapper hops back into the ring, shouting, "Onslaught! Swindle! You slaggin' well better beat the ever loving glitch out of whoever you end up facing in the next round!"

 

Swindle enters the ring again, raising his arms in triumph. Accolades are probably being rained down by /someone/ out there. He strides around the ring, affecting a swagger, despite knowing that he's not much of a fighter, and that the victory really belongs to Onslaught.

 

Thrangar the Repulsive has left.