| Match 1 - Mark Ailshie
Pixilated Pugilists vs. Team Shakespeare Toilet Bowl Round 2 - Atlantis "Good morrow, fair lady!" Mercutio says brightly. "Would you walk?" It is unclear whether he is asking Lara Croft for a date, or challenging her to a fight - for Mercutio, the words are much the same. In any case, her only answer is a pair of flashing pistols. The bullets slam into Mercutio, and he falls wailing, "Ask for me to-morrow, and you shall find me a grave man!", and with that poor joke, falls to the ground dead. Macbeth roars a challenge, and swings his broadsword in a wide arc. Duke Nuke'm gets a bead on him with his gun, but Macbeth dodges and hacks off the Duke's head. Laughing, he turns a slow circle in front of the other Pugilists "I bear a charm-ed life," he boasts. "Which must not yield to one of woman born!" Several pistol shots, ice blasts, and flying spears later, Macbeth is dead. He had either forgotten or never knew that NONE of these characters were born of women. They were in fact all created on computers. Short their leader, Lady Macbeth, Hamlet, and Brutus take a step back ward. Hamlet opens his mouth and... Hamlet: Such an act That blurs the grace and blush of modesty, Calls virtue hypocrite, takes off the rose From the fair forehead of an innocent love And sets a blister there, makes marriage-vows As false as dicers' oaths: O, such a deed As from the body of contraction plucks The very soul, and sweet religion makes A rhapsody of words: heaven's face doth glow: Yea, this solidity and compound mass, With tristful visage, as against the doom, Is thought-sick at the act. But if the pugilists are chastened by him, they don't show it. Scorpion holds out a hand, with a peculiar spear-line protruding from it. "GET OVER..." Hamlet:For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely, The pangs of despised love, the law's delay, The insolence of office and the spurns That patient merit of the unworthy takes, When he himself might his quietus make With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear, To grunt and sweat under a weary life, But that the dread of something after death, The undiscover'd country from whose bourn No traveler returns, puzzles the will And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of? Thus conscience does make cowards of us all; And thus the native hue of resolution Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought, And enterprises of great pith and moment With this regard their currents turn awry, And lose the name of action. Scorpion's spear has fallen flat by now. Brutus and Lady Macbeth are fleeing, even while Scorpion and Sub-Zero seem very confused. Lady Macbeth is about to sneak up behind the distracted Lara Croft, when... Hamlet:Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio: a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy: he hath borne me on his back a thousand times; and now, how abhorred in my imagination it is! my gorge rims at it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now? your gambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table on a roar? Not one now, to mock your own grinning? quite chap-fallen? Now get you to my lady's chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch thick, to this favour she must come; make her laugh at that. The soliloquy distracts Lady M as well, and her knife goes awry. Lara Croft turns and karate kicks her in the face. The Scottish queen gets to her feet, as Brutus steps up to Scorpion. Hamlet draws his fencing foil at last, and says... Hamlet:How all occasions do inform against me, And spur my dull revenge! What is a man, If his chief good and market of his time Be but to sleep and feed? a beast, no more. Sure, he that made us with such large discourse, Looking before and after, gave us not That capability and god-like reason To fust in us unused. Now, whether it be Bestial oblivion, or some craven scruple Of thinking too precisely on the event, A thought which, quarter'd, hath but one part wisdom And ever three parts coward, I do not know Why yet I live to say 'This thing's to do;' Sith I have cause and will and strength and means To do't. Examples gross as earth exhort me: Witness this army of such mass and charge Led by a delicate and tender prince, Whose spirit with divine ambition puff'd Makes mouths at the invisible event, Exposing what is mortal and unsure To all that fortune, death and danger dare, Even for an egg-shell. Rightly to be great Is not to stir without great argument, But greatly to find quarrel in a straw When honour's at the stake. How stand I then, That have a father kill'd, a mother stain'd, Excitements of my reason and my blood, And let all sleep? while, to my shame, I see The imminent death of twenty thousand men, That, for a fantasy and trick of fame, Go to their graves like beds, fight for a plot Whereon the numbers cannot try the cause, Which is not tomb enough and continent To hide the slain? O, from this time forth, My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth! Finally, frustrated beyond endurance, Brutus shouts out. "Bloody thoughts! I'll give you bloody thoughts!" and whips his dagger end over end into Hamlet's throat. The dane gurgles out, Hamlet: I am dead, Horatio. Wretched queen, adieu! You that look pale and tremble at this chance, That are but mutes or audience to this act, Had I but time--as this fell sergeant, death, Is strict in his arrest--O, I could tell you-- But let it be. Horatio, I am dead; Thou livest; report me and my cause aright To the unsatisfied. Lady Macbeth leaps at Croft the moment Hamlet stops talking, and opens up her throat with her dagger. But Hamlet isn't done yet. He sits up again and says... Hamlet:As thou'rt a man, Give me the cup: let go; by heaven, I'll have't. O good Horatio, what a wounded name, Things standing thus unknown, shall live behind me! If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart Absent thee from felicity awhile, And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain, To tell my story. Brutus leaps at Sub-Zero, but the pixelated ninja leaps aside and aims a blast of ice at him... Hamlet: O, I die, Horatio; The potent poison quite o'er-crows my spirit: I cannot live to hear the news from England; But I do prophesy the election lights On Fortinbras: he has my dying voice; So tell him, with the occurrents, more and less, Which have solicited. The rest is silence. Hamlet dies at last, and Brutus leaps aside, having had plenty of time to react to Sub zero's attack. Unfortunately, Lady Macbeth is directly in the path of the ice, and is flash-frozen. Brutus is alone. Scorpion and Sub-zero circle him. Brutus draws his sword, perhaps thinking of killing himself as he did before. "GET OVER HERE!!!" Scorpion doesn't give him a chance to contemplate suicide much longer. He shoots a hook into his shoulder, yanks him over to him, pummels him with six to eight jabs, and then yanks off his own face and breathes fire on him. Needless to say, it is a fatality. Losers: Team Shakespeare (0-6) Pixilated Pugilists (1-5) Match 2 - Brian Ailshie The Bears vs. The Robot Cops Toilet Bowl Round 2 - Atlantis As pathetic as the Robot Cops are, this match was over before it started. Kenai tore into Brain with bear-like ferocity. Penny was bounced out to sea by a spell from Zummi. Baloo was able to out wit Inspector Gadget (not a hard task) and soon it was 4 on one. Unfortunately for the Bears, their last enemy was armed and armored. Robo-Cop fired repeatedly bringing down the Bears one by one. Losers: The Bears (0-6) Robot Cops (1-5) Match 3 - Mark Ailshie Masters of Evil vs. Three Musketeers Toilet Bowl Round 2 - Atlantis D'artagnan: Sacre bleu! Un chat violet immense!! Crow: Whatever the heck that meant, it was D'artagnan's last words, as Panthor - Skeletor's eight-foot purple cat-monster pounces on him and tears his throat out. Skeletor, perched atop Panthor's saddle, laughs his evil - and somewhat hilarious - laugh Skeletor: Heh-heh-heh-heh-heh! Tom Servo:>snarf< that's freaking great! Anyway, Athos and Aramis react in typical french style, shouting lots of "mon dieu"'s and gesticulating wildly. They draw their rapiers and challenge Skeletor, who gleefully accepts and levels his ram-head staff at them. A few power blasts later, and the musketeers are running for cover instead of challenging anybody. Crow: Meanwhile, Porthos has found Evilyn, Skeletor's leggy hench-woman. He says something breathless, calculated to make any woman swoon on her feet. Fortunately, I don't speak French and neither does Evilyn (Not that I CAN'T speak French. I just DON'T speak French, on principle) Tom Servo: Too much talk, Crow! It's enough to say that Evilyn turns Porthos into a frog (how appropriate!) and tries to stomp him with her spiked heels. He hops away just in time. Luckily for him, that spell will wear off in time. Crow: While - Hey there, hi there, ho there - the other two musketeers are stuck behind some marble statues in the courtyard. Skeletor has dismounted from Panthor, and is blasting them on foot. They are just about to mount a counter-attack, when the wild and wooly Beastman dives down from above, lands between the two Frenchmen and starts going house on them. Tom Servo: Athos eventually skewers Beastman in the neck, but not before he has hopelessly mauled Aramis. Skeletor steps out from behind a statue and puts Aramis out of his misery with a single blast from his staff. Crow: But Athos leaps forward and disarms Skeletor, sending the staff sailing over the parapet to the waiting waves below! Skeletor curses him, and removes a long sword from his cloak - his half of the powersword, naturally! Tom Servo: But in the cartoon, He-man had the whole power sword... Crow: Yes, but in the toys, Skeletor always had the purple half, and He-man just had the grey half - Tom Servo: So, wait a minute, are these the cartoons or the toys? I'm confused! Crow: Hey, did we miss something? What happened to Panthor? Let's rewind. >>WWWHHHIIIIRRRR!!!<< Tom Servo: Oh, I see. Evilyn had Panthor use his tracking skills to locate the be-frogged Porthos, and the big cat swallowed him. Unfortunately, Porthos chose that moment to revert to human form. Porthos is crushed by giant feline fangs, but Panthor is choked by Porthos' fat gut. Crow: And now, Skeletor and Athos cross swords. Athos is by far a superior swordsman, but Skeletor appears to be stronger. Tom Servo: Ohh! and sneakier! He waves his hand and a blash of light blainds Athos. And the last Musketeer is disemboweled. Crow: Yay! We won't have to look at Skeletor and his minions anymore! Tom Servo: Bad news, buddy-- next round, the Musketeers take on the Power Rangers. Crow: NNNNOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! Loser: The Musketeers (0-6) Masters of Evil (1-5) Match 4 - Brian Ailshie English Enemies vs Egyptians Toilet Bowl Round 2 - Atlantis Mr. Statistics: I'm not sure how the Egyptians ended up in this spot, they really are a better team than this. To show that, the Scorpion King loads three of his arrows in his bow and skewers Maligant, The Black Knight, and the Sheriff of Nottingham. Brian: Of course the Bunny isn't taken down so easy. He leaps on the Egyptians and quickly gnaws off Jesup and the Rock's heads. Balthezar charges the little rodent, and tangles with him. His sword is too long at the range the Bunny got to him. The Scorpion King fires more arrows as the Bunny takes another head. Not Santa: Have I ever mentioned that I like that bunny? RJ: You would. Brian: Enough guys, the arrow flies true. Pierced through the neck, the bunny gurgles blood . . . Not Santa: Some of which is not his how own! HAhahaha! Brian: . . . and dies. Losers: English Enemies (0-6) Egyptians (1-5) |