Widespread applause rang out across the globe; from the homes of the working class to those fortunate enough to purchase tickets for this extraordinary event. Millions of people gathered from every country known to man to this one stadium located in the Sahara Desert. Years of terraforming transformed a large area of the desert into a sustainable grassland filled with greens, fauna, and mini oases--all with the intent of hosting an amazing Royale for those wealthy enough, and some lucky enough, to witness first hand.
Thump-thump-thump. A screech sounded from a large box suite located high up above the seating arrangement. CEO of Future 4 You Industries, Glike, spoke.
"Testing, testing... 123. Alright, I'm on.. GREETINGS! I am Glike of Future 4 You, first I want to start off by thanking all you wealthy benefactors who helped make this dream a reality. If it weren't for the likes of generous individuals such as yourself the technology employed here today wouldn't exist for at least another few centuries. 26 brave men and women have voluntarily, some more than others, entered themselves in today's competition in order to show off the capabilities of the technologies that you will be seeing firsthand.
The first of which, the Plexifield surrounding the inner stadium; made with Plexiglass in mind, this force field is indestructible. A generous amount of arms and nuclear weapons from our esteemed global sponsors, The United States of America and Russia, have been lended for the sole purpose of testing the strength of this field.. suffice to say, those seats you are sitting in were protected from the greatest weapons produced in contemporary times. We are fully confident that the field can take hits from anything that will be thrown at it today. However, your safety is our number one priority, so we've asked the participants to focus their efforts on taking down each other.. not you guys.
Participants, volunteers; we know, we know, you really want to meet 'em. Rather than introduce them myself our 13 sponsors have selected a "mascot", so to speak, for every 2 participants. We shall let them handle the introductions. Now, I ask that you reflect on the uses of technology you are about to see here: most of these volunteers were recruited from different realities as well as time periods, and we are very eager to showcase the capability of this technology to bring worlds and times to together in a way never before witnessed by humankind. So, without further ado, please welcome our first mascot!"
***
"Oh ho ho, get ready.." a voice rang out, "for Papi!" A circular patch in the center of the field rose up, allowing the first mascot to step out. This was a fair-skinned Hispanic male in his mid 30s. He was toned, but more impressive was the black bushy mustache that perched on his upper lip. He was, in every sense of the word, fine.
"Aquí estoy! You shall all know me as the one, the only Hot Gay Dad. Where I come from, I am known worldwide. I, as you Americanos say, get around. Every man and woman, child or adult, has gotten to know me very intimately. Now, I know I that I am 'muy caliente,' but let not that detract from two of the real stars of the show, no? Give it up for Dion, top Administrator of ERBoH.Com second only to Rob. Also, give a hearty round of applause for troubled, and boy do I mean troubled, youth Rei Kurushimi!"
Sounds of confusion, in the form of questions from the audience such as "ERBoH.Com?" or "Who the heck is this Dion fellow?" were drowned out by the clapping and stomping of millions of people.
A pasty dude in a black tee with impeccable facial hair was the first to step through the entrance and take center stage. This was Dion. Dion pulled a small bottle of Jack out of his pocket and took a swig of it before throwing it on the ground.
"Wassup bitches?" Applause rang out. "Now, I better not be getting sued for displaying that Jack logo, ya see Jack Daniels isn't one of our official sponsors. I just wanna make it clear, what was in that battle was 100%, bonafide... MAPLE SYRUUUUUPP! CANADA REPRESENT!!!!"
Hundreds of Canadians in the stands broke out in an uproar of applause.
"Alright, settle down, settle down. I'm here for one reason and one reason only: TO WIN! I've got some guys over at ERBoH.Com who want to see me kick major ass.. and the odd few who actually wanna see my ass. Who knows, maybe they will maybe they won't... but don't take me for granted. I have spent years mastering the craft of Administration. I've been rewarded with the one true hammer to rival even Mjolnir..."
Dion spawned a gargantuan golden mallet, the light of which filled the stadium.
"THE BANHAMMER!!!"
Once again, applause.
Dion de-spawned the hammer, "I was also molded in the ways and lifestyle of the Canadian.. I've mastered control all things cold, syrupy, and moose-like. Look forward to me winning this thing! Now, give it up for this next traumatized chump or whatever."
Applause!
Dion stepped aside, allowing the other guy to step forward. This guy was even paler than Dion and looked like he hadn't slept in years. He was covered in all sorts of nasty cuts and bruises and even had ash on his face. He was very, erm, top-heavy.. most of his white hair hung down over one side of his body, the other side of head lacking the dome fur.
"My name's Rei. I'm really just here to satisfy my," Rei licked his lips, "thirst. And I'm not talking about that Jack syrup crap, I.. want.. blood! You can't really see him, but my good friend Itami is here today to help me get my fix. Now, unlike this bozo over here I'm not going to spout on about what I can do. No, I'd like to keep that a bit of a mystery for the time being. I just hope ya guys didn't eat breakfast, because you may lose the contents of your stomachs once you see what I have up my sleeves. And I don't care what you guys think, but if I don't get what I came here for.. I'm going to be very very upset. You better hope that Plexifarm or whatever Glike calls it holds."
Rei walked back between Dion and Hot Gay Dad.
"Woo! Go Rei, I love ya!" yelled out a single audience member as he clapped. The others were too terrified to say or do anything.
***
The field was cleared of the previous three, and the next mascot was ready to introduce his pair.
The next mascot arrived from the center elevator. He wore a black tee, similar to Dion's, and jeans tightened by a spiked belt. He his black hair was mop-like and came down to just below his shoulders. Much of the audience was very well who he was. He stared, with a crazed look in his eye, before finally shouting out.
"ARE YOU ALL READY!?"
Applause!
"I CAN'T HEAR YOU? MOTHERFUCKERS, I SAID ARE YOU READY!?!?"
APPLAUSE!
"I'M MARILYN MANSOOOOOOON!!! But I'm sure you already know that! I'm honored to be here today, representing two of my idols! If I had my drummer with me here today, I would have put on a performance, but I'm flying solo today. Plus I kinda threw out my voice a mite with that yelling bit! I've got some of the coolest cats on the block today with me, and you give them that fucking applause you just gave me, alright!? Now, as you know my name is Marilyn Manson.. some of you may know the history behind that name, others may not. If you do, then you'll know just who I'm about to introduce.
First up, we got some of that vintage pussy.. MARILYN MONROE!! After that, we got the baddest guy of 'em all, CHARLES MANSON!! Give it up, give it up!!!"
A woman in a white, almost translucent dress walked up to the mic. The dress ended in a skirt, but besides the skirt, she wasn't wearing anything on her legs. Her bleached hair and beauty mark easily gave up her identity.
"Hi there," she said with an intentional rasp to her voice, drumming her fingers along the mic, "I'm Marilyn Monroe.. Now, I'm just as surprised to be here in the 21st century, but that don't matter too much today. History painted me as an actress and singer, sex symbol of America, but I'm here to prove I'm much more than that. I'm a very capable woman, and if you get on my bad side, I'll just have to go femme fatale on you. But I know what you're really here to say, so here's a little early dessert.."
Monroe pressed a button on the mic, which caused a gust of air to burst from the ground below her, sending her skirt aflutter as she feigned bashfulness. Monroe handed the mic over to Charles as the crowd applauded.
Charles extended his arm outward, gesturing for the crowd to quiet down, "Alright, now my name is Charles Manson. You may know me for some of my misdeeds, but frankly I don't give a fuck. Today, I get to put my one talent to the test, and that talent is killin'. I ain't gonna hold back, and I'm sure as hell not gonna clock out today. So, any of you seeking 'justice' or 'retribution,' quit getting your panties in a twist, because I'm here to win! Ya'll hear that you sunuvabitches? CHUCK IS HERE TO WIN!!"
Charles threw his fists into the air but was met with boos and insults. One guy even attempted to throw a rock at him.. of course it bounced right back off the force field and hit him in the eye.
"Fuckin' ingrates," muttered Chuck.
***
This next mascot.. got a very mixed reaction. When he first stepped out of the elevator he was met with uproarious applause. However, when he turned around to adjust his tie, everyone felt compelled to boo. Upon hearing the displeasure, he turned around once again. However, at this point the audience was cheering again.
"Alright, alright.. I don't know what's going on, but let's settle down. My name's Polar..."
A voice came from just behind his head, "...Bama."
It was at this point, his true bizarre nature was revealed. This was PolarBama, an experiment got wrong. Two high-ranking members from the very same forum Dion was Admin of thought it'd be more efficient to clone themselves. On the first try, unfortunately, the two clones melted together and became one, an amalgamation of the lovable and well-known PolarBore, and the despised and suckish Sambama. The front half was Polar, a stereotypical Brazilian looking kid from America; and the back half was Sam, a gangly white dude with an acne-ridden face.
"Now, I'd like to state some exposition about my past but I'm sure other force beyond our understanding has already done. So, let's just get on with it. I'm very excited to introduce our newest members, and my combined technical father: Polar and Sam!"
Polar arrived first and received a standing ovation, just for appearing. He waited until the cheering died down before speaking, "I'd like t-"
"YAAAAYYYYY!!! ENCORE! ENCORE!!" cried the core.
Polar waited again, "As I-"
"HAVE MY KIDS, POLAR!!!!"
Polar sighed and waited again. Finally he spoke once more, "You done? Alright.. as I was saying. I'm genuinely humbled by this opportunity. I'm here to make a good name for myself as well as the rest of ERBoH.Com. I realize we have others from the website as well, but hey, that was there choice not mine. I won't be holding back, whether I'm facing friend or foe. Thank you."
Polar stood to the side as the crowd cheered, only for the cheers to subside and be replaced with boos as Sam stepped forward.
"Hi, I'm Sam and-..."
"BOO, YOU STINK!"
Sam put his hand up and nodded, "Th-Thank you." Sam then stepped backward, not even getting a chance to speak for himself.
***
A young teenager who looked like the emo lovechild of Dion and Marilyn Manson entered. He was very pale looking, and was dressed in all black. He slowly walked to the mic and spoke with a whiny, raspy voice, "Hi, my name is like Jon Jumper. I'm a mascot for like two people and shit. Really, I'm just in it for some free publicity and fuck bitches. Life's been a bit rough lately, and sometimes I just feel my only release is to cut myself from this mortal coil. It's kinda hardcore, really. But today, there's going to be a different release, and I think my two people'll be able to pull it off. Say hello to this, like time witch spirit lady, Kurumi Tokisaki, and my personal hero, Existential Crisis Man. Peace."
Jumper moved back and allowed Kurumi to take the stage. Kurumi looked like a typical teenage girl dressed in atypical clothing. She wore a very frilly dress with black and red stripes as well as a light, frilly red bonnet-type headpiece. She also wore red-frilled black sleeves which were unconnected to the dress. She had two mismatched colored eyes, one red and the other a brilliant gamboge.
"AHAAHAHA!! Hello my soon-to-be loyal fans! I hope you enjoy my youthful look and complexion, for you see... I can only stay this pretty and powerful as long as I have sustenance. I do a little soul-searching, in the literal sense, to find only the ripest victims. I do this so I can remain this way as long as possible, and I do have a longterm goal but I won't bore you with the details. Honestly, the competition so far? They're completely weak, so weak in fact it's almost not worth it to kill them. But that Rei boy, you see, there's something interesting about him. I implore you all to take this journey with me, watch as I break him and suck him dry. AHAHAHAHA!!"
"YOU CAN SUCK ME DRY KURUMI!" yelled someone from the audience.
"Shut it! Don't you get fresh with me, meatsack!" she yelled. "Anywho, look forward to seeing me again later." With a wave Kurumi walked off.
A rather generic looking guy in his 30s slowly trudged towards the microphone, watching the ground as he walked. He stared at the grass even as he addressed his audience, "I'm... *sigh* Existential Crisis Man.. I guess. I can like, phase through anything and you can't hurt me no matter how much you try.. not anymore than the illusion called life already has, I guess. ..I don't know, why should I care? We're all going to die someday anyway. Not like it matters if nothing really exists, though.. I don't even know why I bother... I'm just taking up space, I guess.."
Existential Crisis Man sadly walked back to the elevator, sighing along the way.
***
.
..
...
"Absolutely... riveting...," sighed Glike. Everyone in the stadium grew bored over the half-hour in which the latest mascot said nothing.
"I-I'm shocked, genuinely surprised.." said Glike, "I thought there was more than meets the eye with this mascot, but uh, no. No, it's literally just a meatball sub, with.. umm.. with no sauce to boot. I-I sincerely apologize folks, I thought th-"
"Sorry, I'm-a sorry! It's my blame, I'll take-a the blame. All the blame, right here!" A man in a chef's hat quickly rushed out of the elevator. His hat, handlebar mustache, and accent betrayed his true nature. Nothing about him was authentic Italian, including the sandwich.
"I'm-a, well you-a see, you can call-a me a Loafa Bred. Loafa Bred, yeah, that's-a what I'm-a goin' with! Ya see, I'm-a not entirely sure who I really... Anyway, that's-a my meatball sub! Beautiful creation! I a thought it'd be the perfect mascot. But don't-a worry, I'll-a translate!"
Loafa Bred put his ear to the sub and nodded, occasionally muttering "mhm, uh-huh" to himself. He stood again and spoke, "He-a says that the mascots about to be a presented to you guys are gonna be-a great. Contrary to their-a name, they will not be a singing their swan song tonight. These-a two are from the video-making group Cygnus. A-get it? Cuz the constellation and-a the swan an-.." Loafa Bred notices millions of unamused stares, "Ahem... Juiz and Jon of Cygnus.."
Juiz tried everything to make himself look cool. He had his black leather jacket on with spikes on the shoulders, sunglasses, and a fake tattoo of a dragon. Quite honestly.. it kind of worked. He looked somewhat badass.
Juiz yanked the microphone out of Bred's hands and spoke, "What up, nerds? I'm Juiz, one of the creative minds and top personalities of Cygnus, yo. And I'mma straight tell ya'll that this here.. this stadium? It's MY turf! Now, don't front with me or I'll just have to pop a cap in yo sorry little a-.. Ah, what the fuck am I saying?" Juiz took off his sunglasses and spoke again, "What's up guys? I'm Juiz. You may know me from Cygnus or you may know me as one of the Super Mods over at ERBoH.Com. Now, I may not hold as much power as say Polar or Dion, but don't get it twisted.. when I'm serious I don't mess around. Not much to say besides that, but don't count me out just. Alright, I'll see ya guys later."
Jon was most likely some pasty, chubby white guy that no one likes, and I bel-
Whoops, would you look at that. He's already getting booed off the stage.
"GET OFF THE STAGE, GEEK."
"NO ONE WANTS YOU HERE JON."
"YOU SUCK MORE THAN SAM."
Jon returned to the elevator, a single tear rolling down his cheek.
***
The next mascot was due to arrive any second now. Nobody knew what they were in for, but they were definitely about to get the best treat of all. They were about to be introduced to the smartest, sexiest costumed man from Earth to Uranus, no doubt. Now, let's take a moment to reflect on his awesomeness. He's like Wolverine without all that gruffness, he's like Deathstroke but without all the dryness, he's like.. aw, who am I kidding?
What up bitches? I'm your friendly neighborhood Deadpool! But only am I over here, he's over there. Look for yourself! *points camera at the stadium* The rugged man in ladybug pajamas waved at the camera and shouted, "Look Ma, I'm on TV!"
Now, what could this heroic funnyman have in store for us? "I'm glad ya asked DP, today I'm going to introduce you to the fabulous Lyle and the and the macho Living Armour. Why don't you two step right up, alright?"
And as this amazing hero said that, Lyle approached the mic... Hold it.
"What's wrong, DP?"
You said fabulous, DP..
"Yeah, that's right DP."
But he doesn't look all that fabulous, DP.
"*anime gasp* You know what this means, DP?"
MAKEOVER!
"MAKEOVER!"
*one transition later*
My chatty counterpart forced a pink dress onto Lyle who was now prepared to speak.
And action!
"What is this, Victoria's Secret? I thought this was going to be a rough-and-tumble showdown, not a beauty pageant. Heh, whatever. Name's Lyle."
Lyle appeared right next to in-story DP. Psst, look at him rippin' off my style. Whoa, now he's next to Glike! He's speaking on that Glike mic, "As ya can see, I love teleporting. I live it, I breathe it. But I'm not a one-trick pony, no sirree. Now, get a listen to th- WHOA!"
And there I go, dragging Lyle back to the field, somehow passing through that Sexyfield, sorry, Plexifield. No one is allowed to be as funny or funnier than me.
"Bye Lyle! Alright, I got this guy fixed up so we won't need a transition this time. It's the macho Living Armour.. oh darn, he's stuck in the elevator. Give me a few minutes, I'll get him out."
*one transition later* Heh, I'm a rebel.
The Living Armour walked up to the mic; take notice of those fabulous pecs drawn on with state-of-the-art Crayola crayons.
Living Armour spoke, "I couldst maketh bett'r art with the dung of a donkey, thee clotpole. Anon, thee shalt knoweth me as the Living Armour. I am an enchant'd thing of immeasurable calib'r. Doth not und'restimate me, f'r I has't the spirit of a knight and the capability of the King's most wondrous men. I shalt sayeth farewell f'r the timeth, but expecteth to seeth me on the battlefield v'ry lief, mine own comrades. HURRAH!"
Now, before I go I just want to say-
*Commercial Break*