JohnnyChany

Great matchup, Pizza Guy. Going to go with Hector. He seemed more impressive in battle to me. Also it is Sean Bean's forever fate to have his characters die tragically.

OF WHIPS AND WILLS The wind on Korriban was dry and stinging. Beneath the rust-colored sky, Lumiya stood alone at the center of a stone dais carved with Sith runes. Her lightwhip curled around her arm like a serpent of molten energy. It hummed softly. Nearby, a crimson-hued holoprojector fizzled to life. It displayed a 3D map of the Outer Rim. LUMIYA: Soon, Caedus will bring order to this galaxy. And I will be the flame that cauterizes the infection of the Jedi. As she moved her fingers across a control pad, a sudden quake split the ground. The light around her dimmed unnaturally. Without warning, boom tube portals appeared and spat out grotesque, winged monstrosities that descended like vultures. The parademons' shrieks echoed across the ancient valley. LUMIYA: Hmph. This is new. Three parademons swooped at her. Lumiya launched into a backward somersault and whipped her lightwhip mid-air. The whip flickered and fractured. One creature’s wings were severed, sending it tumbling into the sand. She flicked her wrist again. A concealed spike launched from her gauntlet. She lodged the weapon in another creature’s eye. Lumiya regarded her attackers with disdain. LUMIYA: You mistake me for someone manageable. The Force surged around her. She leapt impossibly high. She hurled debris telekinetically and took down five more Parademons with a deadly spiral of rock and rubble. But they kept coming. Gravity pulses from above slammed her down, and then she saw them—metal-clad soldiers with glowing sigils, led by a hulking armored brute. Apokolips had come for her. As a sonic boom cracked through the air, Lumiya reached out with the Force to vanish in illusion, but a motherbox pulse distorted the air. She screamed as she was wrapped in glowing, barbed chains that nullified her. A sharp pain shot through her cybernetic limbs. Her world blurred, and faded to black. When she awoke, Lumiya found herself shackled to a vertical slab of alien alloy. The ceiling was high and jagged, with rivers of magma casting orange shadows across the stone walls. She was in Apokolips. Her head snapped upward as a door swung open and in strutted Granny Goodness, hands clasped and eyes gleaming with predatory curiosity. GRANNY GOODNESS: Well now… you don’t look so dangerous, do you? But I’ve learned not to judge on appearances. Not when I have trained monsters like Barda… and Lashina. LUMIYA: You’ve made a mistake abducting me. Granny Goodness chuckled. GRANNY GOODNESS Oh, my pet, no mistake here. You radiate potential. We’ve been… observing. The Sith, yes. You twist minds. Wield fear. You could make an excellent Fury. LUMIYA: I am no one’s soldier. Granny’s smile widened cruelly. GRANNY GOODNESS: Oh, you are…you just don’t know who your commander is yet. She snapped her fingers. A screen of fire burst to life, on it was displayed grainy footage of a battlefield. The Fury, Lashina, spun through ranks of Doomsday cultists with her barbed whips crackling with energy. She tore through armor, snapped necks with precision, and grinned through the carnage. GRANNY GOODNESS: There. Lashina. A razor in my hand. She’s been dying to test herself with a real challenge. And you, dear Lumiya, are to be her proving ground. LUMIYA: I see. A trap dressed as opportunity. GRANNY GOODNESS: Think of it as… an interview. If you survive, perhaps the conditioning will be less severe. The slab released her. Guards dragged Lumiya through a spiked corridor. Lumiya didn’t struggle, her mind worked faster than her limbs. She would not be bent. But if she played their game, she might bend them instead. The Colosseum of Apokolips was a monstrous pit lined with fire-spewing glyphs and the roar of warriors above. Female Furies lined the stands, among them, Stompa, Bernadeth, and Mad Harriet watching with amusement and bloodlust. Lashina stood in the center, arms crossed, her dark armor gleamed under the blazing sky. Twin barbed whips coiled at her sides. She smirked at Lumiya’s arrival. LASHINA: So, this is the mighty Sith? You look like you stepped out of a fashion holodrama. Lumiya activated her lightwhip. LUMIYA: And you look like a bondage-themed trash compactor. These whips? They’d snap under the weight of my will. Lashina snorted dismissively. LASHINA: I am will, you glowstick-waving worm.” The voice of Granny Goodness came across the speakers. GRANNY GOODNESS: This contest is simple. Show us who really commands the whip… and who grovels. Begin. Lashina cracked her whips with a thunderous snap, with each strike igniting sparked on the arena floor. The energy around Lumiya’s ignited lightwhip danced in unpredictable, flowing patterns. They circled one another. The crowd chanted. LUMIYA: You have no idea what I’m capable of. LASHINA: Let’s find out… before I rip those cables out of your spine.

As a fan of the original Power Rangers and a few seasons after that I do really like that this arc is introducing me to characters that I had no idea existed. like Olivia Hart. Very comic coded alternate reality child, I like it.

Didn't get to this in time. I also would have gone with Army of Anubis. Great job as always.

Location: Palgaea Shrine – Depths of the Fygul Cestemus Cavern Temple Thick incense smoke floated through the air of the shrine, carrying the scent of burnt flesh and scorched blood. The stone walls of the subterranean temple were adorned with jagged sigils of agony. All eyes of the hooded figures within turned toward the massive, rust-colored altar where Kunpaetku, high priest of the Fygul Cestemus, raised his arms. KUNPAETKU: Brothers and sisters, hear the will of our god made manifest! Ares, the Warbringer, speaks through flame and blood. He has shown me a world far beyond our reach... yet soon to be within our grasp! The cultists murmured amongst themselves, their eyes wide with mania. KUNPAETKU: Piltover. A city of gleaming towers and arrogant scholars. A birthplace of Hextech… a power forged of science and arcane convergence. Power strong enough to rival even Soul Edge. Gasps of disbelief echoed in the shrine. KUNPAETKU: I have seen it... a future written in flame. The Fygul Cestemus shall take this Hextech... and forge weapons of divine ruin! Summon the Lizardmen. We march to war! And call upon our iron titan... awaken Astaroth! Thunder trembled through the chamber as dark magic surged. A summoning circle erupted in the floor as molten lines cracked into existence around them. Rising from it came a hulking brute of devastation: Astaroth. He dragged his colossal axe behind. Metal skin shimmered over rippling muscle, and the skulls chained to his belt clinked as he took his first steps toward the conquest of Piltover. Location: Piltover Council Building Golden light streamed through stained glass windows depicting the founding of Piltover and bounced off the marble pillars lining the council chamber. A table of hex-crystal inlays stretched across the center of the room, surrounded by high-backed seats designated for scholars and politicians. Currently the chamber was empty save for two people. Jayce Talis, Councilman and defender of Piltover, leaned over the table and scoured through a report on unrest in the undercity. His chiseled jaw was tense, and his eyes tired. JAYCE: We’re dancing on a razor’s edge. If we don’t address these Zaunite tensions with clarity and restraint, we’ll plunge into war neither side can afford. Mel Medarda, regal in her purple robes and golden jewelry, sat opposite him with fingers folded in contemplation. MEL: And yet if we don’t show strength, we invite chaos. Piltover’s peace is balanced on the perception of power. We must de-escalate... but never appear vulnerable. Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of shattering glass and distant screaming. An enforcer burst into the room, bloodied and gasping. ENFORCER: Monsters! They’re... reptilian! Scales, claws—they're in the building! Mel rose swiftly, her eyes widened. MEL: What new horror are they cooking up in the undercity now? Jayce and Mel exited the chamber and got a good look at their invaders. Lizardmen dressed in armor, and wielding swords and shields clashed with the Piltover Enforcers. Jayce frowned. JAYCE: No... Zaun doesn’t deal in magical creatures like this. This isn’t the result of shimmer. This threat reeks of something older... maybe from Ionia. Or even the Blessed Isles. Another crash. Alarms blared. MEL: If it’s an outside force using magic against us, then Hextech might be our only hope…no matter our moral reservations. Jayce grimaced. He hated that she was right. Hated that this city needed weapons. Hated that he was the one who had to wield them after he had sworn, he wouldn’t again. JAYCE: I’ll go to the lab and get the hammer. If these things want war... they’ll get it. Location: Piltover Hextech Laboratory The lab was wrecked when Jayce arrived. Consoles lay smashed, hex-crystals shattered, and sparks flew from ruptured generators. Dim emergency lighting flickered overhead. Viktor lay broken near the core chamber, his mechanical limbs twisted at unnatural angles with wires exposed, and blood pooled beneath him. JAYCE: Viktor! No... dammit! A heavy breath came from across the room. Jayce turned and saw Astaroth. The golem towered above him, at least ten feet tall, forged of blackened flesh and cold steel. His glowing red eyes glared with malevolence, and in one hand he held a jagged axe that’s size even rivaled Jayce’s massive hammer. Jayce quickly grabbed his signature weapon near the entrance way. JAYCE: What the hell are you?! What have you done to Viktor?! ASTAROTH: The weak fall before the will of Ares. Your ally resisted. Briefly. Jayce’s grip on his hammer tightened. JAYCE: You think you can just walk in here and take down Piltover? ASTAROTH: I care nothing for your towers of glass and pride. I have come for the Hex Core. We shall forge war-machines to rival even Soul Edge. Weapons that will unmake empires. Jayce stepped between Astaroth and the glowing containment field that held the Hex Core. JAYCE: Not while I’m breathing. I won’t let you or your lizard lackeys put the world to the torch. ASTAROTH: You stand alone. You will fall alone. I will obliterate you and tear the heart of this city from its walls. JAYCE: You will do no such thing. I have put down metal monstrosities before. You will be no different. Jayce hoisted his massive Hextech hammer onto his shoulder. The weapon thrummed with blue energy and the scientist and councilor prepared himself for battle. ASTAROTH: You will die here.

I think Zedd at full strength takes this, assuming your possession of him hasn't limited him in some way.

Some videos of their respective moves. Elysium's Moves Azazel's Moves

Beneath the Earth, in a forgotten cavern shrouded by shadows and foreboding winds, three figures pressed onward. They traversed through the winding cave, their torches casting flickering light against jagged stone walls. The leader of the Archers of Sirius and the World’s Strongest Exorcist, Claudio Serafino, scanned the darkness with suspicion. His ornate white coat fluttered with each careful step; its gold embroidery faintly twinkled in the small spaces of light. Beside him moved the mysterious and duty-bound astrologist, Zafina. Her lithe body was wrapped in mystical garments of deep violet and crimson. She wore an expression of unwavering determination upon her face. At the front of the trio, guiding the pair with confidence, was Leo Kliesen—short-cropped hair damp with sweat, their explorer’s garb streaked with dirt, their eyes narrowed in cautious focus. “We’ve been wandering through this labyrinth for hours. I still say we’re chasing fairy tales when we should be confronting Azazel head-on,” Claudio suggested. Leo glanced back at him with steady breath. “This isn’t just any cave. I’ve traced these markings across old records,” Leo informed. “Ritual paths tied to a weapon beyond comprehension. If this Soul Calibur that Zafina speaks of exists… this is where we’ll find it.” Zafina looked at both of her compatriots. "We need it. Without it we’re not strong enough to face Azazel. Not yet.” Claudio was unconvinced. “You’ve seen what I can do. You’ve seen what Jin can do. Are we really going to bet our lives on an ancient sword buried under dust?” Zafina nodded. “It is no ordinary sword. And this is no ordinary demon. Azazel is not merely destruction incarnate—he is entropy, malice, the end of all cycles. The Devil Gene itself was his design. Even if Jin’s strength is strong enough to defeat him, he lacks the control to keep him sealed.” Claudio sighed and no longer argued against the plan. “If we do find Soul Calibur, can anyone even use it? What if it’s too powerful? Too… divine?” Leo wondered. Zafina answered. “It requires more than strength to wield Soul Calibur. A warrior of harmony, of balance. It can not be Jin. His soul is fractured, filled with guilt, rage, and… the Devil Gene makes him vulnerable. Azazel feeds on that.” Claudio raised an eyebrow, his tone was suddenly bemused. “So… if not Jin… then who? Me?” He chuckled. “I must admit, I do cut a striking figure in prophecy.” “No. You are not here to be the sword-bearer. But you are here to be the catalyst,” Zafina retorted. Before Claudio could respond, they entered a large chamber carved into the heart of the earth. It was a ceremonial temple weathered away by time. Obsidian statues of winged warriors lined the walls and surrounded an altar that held a crystalline blade pulsing with blue energy. It was the resting place of the legendary blade Zafina stepped forward, her voice hushed in awe. “There. Soul Calibur. The embodiment of purification.” “And you truly believe this blade holds the answer to our troubles?” Claudio asked. “Not just the blade itself. Her. The entity bound to it. Elysium.” Leo was confused. “Wait… there’s someone in the sword?” “A spirit of order… the antithesis of Inferno. She has guided warriors in the past. She is justice incarnate. And quite possibly our only hope,” Zafina declared. She turned to Claudio with a fierce gaze in her eyes. "We need your exorcism rites. Channel your divine power. Awaken her.” Claudio nodded and stepped to the blade. He pulled off his glove, exposing the glowing sigil on his palm. After he raised his hand, he chanted in a celestial tongue. The markings around the temple illuminated as if answering his call. “O sacred guardian of balance… I summon thee from thy prison. Elysium—arise!” The sword gleamed. A pillar of light erupted from the altar. Wind surged through the chamber, and from the light, a figure descended: radiant and regal. Elysium hovered, wrapped in divine armor that shimmered, her golden hair flowied as if in water. Her expression was calm but piercing, Elysium’s voice filled the chamber. “The world trembles. I sense chaos, but not the one I know.” She pointed over to Claudio. “You, priest of the light, you summoned me. Why?” Zafina stepped up to answer. “Because the end has come. But not from Inferno or Soul Edge. This is something older. Something worse.” Elysium tilted her head. “Speak.” “His name is Azazel, a primordial being sealed for eons beneath the desert sands. He engineered the Devil Gene. Through Jin Kazama’s awakening, he was freed. He now seeks to blanket the world in oblivion.” “Azazel…” Elysium’s eyes narrowed. “Yes. I know him. He was once cast out by the very order I serve. A being so abhorrent, the gods refused to acknowledge his creation.” “Then you know why we need you,” Claudio interjected. “We don’t have time for legends. He walks the earth again.” Elysium glared at him. “I do not walk as a weapon for mortals to wield.” “We ask not for a weapon. We ask for your will. Your judgment. Your power to stop annihilation,” Zafina reasoned. Elysium paused for a moment and then nodded. “Then let us face this corruption. And end the cycle it has wrought.” The party of heroes traveled to the crumbling remains of Azazel’s temple. Black clouds streaked with lightning swirled in the sky above them. In the center of the ruins, the towering, crystalline form of Azazel stirred. Horned and massive, his wings of glass and shadow stretched wide as he stepped over the beaten and broken bodies of soldiers sent in to stop him. Claudio, Zafina, and Leo stood on the outer ring of the shattered plaza, and watched as Elysium floated forward toward Azazel, her presence illuminated the very stones beneath her. “Another angel come to die,” Azazel taunted. “I am no angel. I am retribution.” Azazel rose to his full terrifying height, his claws extended as his roar echoed off the walls all around him. “Now you see. Only she can face this,” Zafina told Claudio. “Let’s hope the legends weren’t exaggerating,” stated Claudio “You wield no weapon, spirit,” Azazel observed. What will you strike me with? Your fists>” Elysium raised a hand. From her outstretched fingers, the form of Soul Calibur appeared, silver-blue energy shaped like a blade of light. She pointed it toward Azazel. “I will cut you down with truth,” Elysium proclaimed. The two forces surged toward one another, light against shadow, as the three brave fighters who sought out the sword held their breath with anticipation.

I am probably one of the rare few where the opposite is true, heh.

A great matchup and one I am surprised the God of War games haven't explored yet (at least I don't think they have, I haven't played the newer GOW games). I need to think this one over.

Good stuff with classic monsters, Boratz. I too am shocked they have not been put in a matchup against each other before. I'll go Imhotep. I think Dracula is arrogant enough to try to take him out straight up and he will lose.

I like this match. I think the fact that Satan survived being chucked into a mountain speaks to a high endurance necessary to win this gauntlet.

Athough the quick interaction doesn't necessarily lend itself to this happening, but I can see Thanos outsmarting Zeno who was portrayed as easily swayed and influenced in DBS.

I can only speak for myself. But as someone who usually puts up plenty of matches, I have just been busy this past month or so. My lack of matches had nothing to do with any site changes.

Disney's TRAP The city of angels buzzed with neon excitement as the Powerline tour had made its way to downtown Los Angeles. Towering posters of the pop superstar hung from buildings, their flashy purple and gold colors lit up the streets. Among the horde of fans entering the venue, dressed in sequins, visors, and glowing accessories, one figure stood out like a frayed extension cord in a surge protector factory. Megavolt, the electricity-themed supervillain of St. Canard, shuffled forward awkwardly in line with his date, Cheryl. They had met through an internet dating site, and Megavolt had agreed to take her to Powerline’s concert per her suggestion. His bolt-adorned yellow jumpsuit squeaked faintly as he moved, and the battery pack strapped to his back whirred with a soft hum. On his head, his signature copper helmet sparked faintly with every anxious thought that zapped through his brain. To many onlookers he appeared to be perhaps cosplaying a member of Powerline’s band, but it was clear to them he misunderstood the assignment. Cheryl talked at him with rapid-fire excitement. "I mean, Powerline is just—he’s the voice of a generation! The way he moves, the messages in his songs—ugh, 'Eye to Eye' literally got me through college. And ‘Stand Out’. ugh. You’ve heard that one, right? Wait, you’ve definitely heard it, who hasn't?" Megavolt, completely ignorant to Powerline’s music catalogue, fumbled his response. "Uh, heh, oh sure! The...um...eyes! Definitely a lot of those...in the song...right?" Cheryl tilted her head. "You're not a fan of Powerline, are you?" Megavolt rubbed the back of his helmet sheepishly; electricity crackled from his fingertips. "I'm more of a...uh...Tesla coil quartet kind of guy. But! I can totally vibe with your vibe. Say, how about I grab us some snacks before the show starts? Nachos, lightning dogs—" "Churros. And a pineapple soda. Please and thank you," Cheryl chirped. She gave him a polite smile, then immediately turned to her phone to let the world know where she was with a social media post. Megavolt wandered toward the concession stands. He brushed past fans waving glow sticks and clutching plush Powerline dolls. At the snack counter, Megavolt paused behind a couple chatting with the vendor. He caught the tail end of their conversation. The vendor was leaning in conspiratorially as he talked with them. “Yeah, it’s wild. Powerline’s actually working with law enforcement tonight. The concert’s a setup. They’re trying to lure out some psycho criminal from St. Canard. Big-time villain.” The vendor informed. “No way! You’re serious?” The vendor held up his hands. “Swear on my last churro. Powerline offered up his whole show just to trap the guy. Real hero stuff.” Megavolt blinked and mulled over that information. His brain did not immediately make the connection that he was the target in question. Instead, he wondered which one of his former teammates may also be in the building and being hunted down. He wondered if it was Bushroot, or maybe Quackerjack, or perhaps the Liquidator. He seemed like a concert guy. With the couple now gone, the vendor turned to Megavolt. "Hey, buddy, you want something?" the vendor asked. "Uh, yeah. Two churros. And a pineapple soda,” Megavolt replied. On his way back to Cheryl, Megavolt stopped short as he heard her voice again, this time from behind a structural pillar. She had her back to him, still on the phone. "I don’t know, girl, he’s weird. Like, cartoonish. He’s wearing this ridiculous outfit. It looks like he fell into a circuit breaker and liked it. But maybe he’s some tech billionaire? I mean, who else has a battery strapped to their back like that? It’s definitely not because he is into Powerline. If he makes it WORTH my time, I may stick around." Megavolt’s gloved fingers twitched. His spark dimmed a little. "Figures. She was just here for the watts, not the heart..." he muttered. He turned away, leaving Cheryl mid-giggle, and scanned the crowd. That’s when he saw them: secret agents. Dozens of them, dressed in casualwear, but their earpieces and methodical scanning gave them away. One was even posing as a hot dog vendor, suspiciously alert. Megavolt had spent enough time with Steelbeak to recognize a H.U.S.H. agent when he saw one. The realization finally dawned on him. “I’m the target. This trap is for me.” The house lights dimmed. The crowd screamed. Lasers danced across the arena. A platform rose from the stage floor, and there he was, entertainer extraordinaire, Powerline. Dressed in glittering purple spandex, gold gloves, and black sunglasses, he stood still for a second with arms spread wide. He basked in the fan adoration. Then the beat dropped. 🎵 "I’ve got myself a notion.." 🎵 Powerline launched into "Eye to Eye" with his signature energy. He twirled, spun, and landed in the now iconic “Perfect Cast” pose, left foot forward, arm arched like a fishing rod. The crowd screamed. Megavolt tried to blend in as he edged toward the back. But as Powerline danced, Megavolt noticed something peculiar, Powerline was pointing. During each swing of the Perfect Cast, his finger seemed to land... directly on Megavolt. “He’s trying to sell me out!” Megavolt shouted in frustration Every beat of the song now felt like a spotlight aimed at him. 🎵 "...If we listen to each other's hearts.." 🎵 More agents were closing in, talking into their sleeves. A drone with a spotlight buzzed above the crowd. Megavolt ducked behind a souvenir stand, churros still in hand. "Okay. No big deal, I've escaped worse. Remember the time I shorted out the Duckburg power grid with a microwave and an old vending machine? I can do this," he reasoned. He peeked out. Powerline had shifted his choreography slightly, but it was clear, he was directing attention toward the left side of the arena, where Megavolt had been. Megavolt growled: "I should jump on stage and fry that Funkadelic’s performance.” He immediately reconsidered that impulse. He could not risk the chance of being ripped to shreds by thousands of angry Powerline fans. Megavolt tried to figure out the best plan to get back at Powerline and escape the venue scott free from his pursuers.

FINAL GIRL FACE-OFF Final Bonus Match SARAH CONNOR VS. LAURIE STRODE RESULTS Two school buses parked in a rural stretch of road as they were encompassed by darkness. One guarded by Laurie Strode, the other protected by Sarah Connor. Each bus was loaded with frightened children. Silence hung in the air, until it didn’t. The Creeper burst from the treetops with its leathery wings spread wide. Its screech echoed through the air. It flew toward Sarah’s bus. Sarah lifted up a shotgun. SARAH CONNOR: You want a challenge? Pick the wrong mom. The Creeper dive-bombed the bus. Sarah fired through the top of the bus, and tagged his wing, slowing him down, He clawed at the bus roof. Sarah kicked open the emergency exit, climbed up, and planted another shot into his side. SARAH CONNOR: Off. My. Bus! Boom. She blasted him again and sent him off the roof. The Creeper spiraled into the nearby forest, temporarily driven away. Moments later, he descended upon Laurie’s bus. She had used her time to prepare traps: hanging car mirrors, reflective metal, flare bombs. She breathed heavily as the creature approached. LAURIE STRODE: You’ve done this before. You’ve protected kids before. You can do this. Laurie managed to hold back the Creeper’s advance, using makeshift weapons to keep him from entering the bus. But one of the teens under her care panicked and fled the bus. He tried to run, and the Creeper seized him. LAURIE STRODE: NO! She rushed to help, but it was too late. The Creeper mutilated the boy with ease. Blood splashed across the bus windows. The monster locked eyes with Laurie and pounced. SARAH CONNOR: HEY! Sarah’s group had managed to get their bus operational again. She crashed her bus into the Creeper and knocked it back several feet. Sarah then tossed a thermite grenade out the window and into the Creeper’s face. Boom. The Creeper screeched in pain as it burned in phosphorous fire. It fled, screeching into the sky. Laurie knelt beside the body of the mauled teenage boy. LAURIE STRODE: I... I couldn’t save them all… Sarah placed a hand on Laurie’s shoulder. SARAH CONNOR: We saved most. That’s more than anyone else ever did. HOST CHECK-IN Randy Meeks smiled brightly after the conclusion of the match. His co-host, Elvira, stood up from her couch, and grinned wickedly behind him. RANDY: Whoa. What a finish. Sarah Connor pulls off a win and cements herself as the action-horror queen of Final Girl royalty! What a great final bonus match authored by these two legends. ELVIRA: Not quite. Randy, sweetie, you do realize that wasn’t really the final bonus match, right? Randy regarded her with confusion. RANDY: What are you talking about? That was the last one on the list. ELVIRA: Of course, YOU were left in the dark about the real final bonus match. Elvira winked knowingly. ELVIRA: That was kind of the point. For you see darling, the last match is all about darkness. Randy remained confused. RANDY: I wasn't told about any possible last-minute additions... ELVIRA: That’s because this one is my baby. After all, I am the Mistress of the Dark. And frankly, I was getting a little disappointed with some of our Bonus Final Girls. Randy nodded with some recognition. RANDY: Yeah, Jamie Lloyd being taken out by Tiffany Valentine? That one hurt. ELVIRA: And Tina Shepard, Miss Telekinetic Righteousness herself, falling to Dr. Zoe McConnell? Some top-notch Final Girl she turned out to be. So, I made an executive decision. RANDY: Uh-oh... ELVIRA: The Powers That Be gave me one last match. And I got to choose the two contestants. Two women so dark, so twisted, so creepy, they make Candyman look like the Easter Bunny. RANDY: Wait, who? Don’t leave me out of this. ELVIRA: Welcome your final bonus competitors: the twisted tooth fairy, Matilda Dixon, and the childhood friend who refuses to let go, Diana Walter. RANDY: Hold on—Elvira, those are both villains. At least one should be a Final Girl. ELVIRA: Says who? My house, my rules. And these two lovely ladies are perfect for a dark-off. Plus, it’ll be fun to watch them rip each other to shreds. Randy sighed. RANDY: Fine. Let’s do this. ELVIRA: Do your thing. RANDY: Matilda Dixon was a kind woman in life, but a mob burned her alive for a crime she didn’t commit. Now, she’s a vengeful ghost who murders anyone that sees her face, especially kids who lose their baby teeth. ELVIRA: Her bedtime stories end with a scream. RANDY: Diana Walter, on the other hand, is a literal embodiment of depression and mental illness, attached to Sophie Lloyd since childhood. She lives in the dark, only visible in shadows, and she kills anyone who threatens her bond with Sophie. ELVIRA: They both hate light. They both hate people. And now, they’ll hate each other. Randy let out a half chuckle. RANDY This might be the one bonus match you can’t see... literally. ELVIRA: Don’t you dare ruin this for me. I’ve waited all tournament for a showdown this deliciously dim. RANDY: Okay then, what’s the scenario? ELVIRA: Picture this: Sophie Lloyd and her son Martin have moved to the quaint, gloomy coastal town of Darkness Falls. And Martin? He’s about to lose his last baby tooth. RANDY: Oh no... ELVIRA: Oh yes. Let the spooky hijinks ensue. SOPHIE LLOYD'S NEW RESIDENCE - DARKNESS FALLS A single lamp glowed weakly in Martin’s room as he slept, one hand clutched a tooth under his pillow. The light flickered and after a buzzing sound it died. Matilda Dixon drifted in from the shadows. MATILDA DIXON: Child. Give me what is mine... Her clawed hand reached out and trembled over Martin’s face. Sophie stormed in the room with a flashlight SOPHIE LLOYD: Get away from him! The light flicked on. Matilda recoiled with an inhuman screech. Sophie backed up toward the doorway after she caught a glimpse of Matilda. And then… the bulb shattered. Darkness flooded the room. Diana Walter emerged behind her. DIANA WALTER: He’s not mine. But she is. Matilda hissed. MATILDA DIXON: You dare interfere with my claim? DIANA WALTER: I don’t care what you want with the boy. But if you touch Sophie... I’ll tear your face off. MATILDA DIXON: No one tells me what to do. SOPHIE LLOYD: MARTIN, RUN! Martin bolted from his bed to his mother and out of the room. Matilda gave chase but was cut off by Diana. The two shadows faced each other. Matilda’s cloak swirled like smoke, Diana’s form blinked in and out of existence, only seen in the flickers of broken light.

Bulma can use one of her capsules to survive this slasher encounter.

Great matchup, Boratz. Whereas I can see a way for the Na'Vi to win, I think if it is played out multiple times, more often than not the Golden Army comes out on top.

Another great Alien/Star Wars crossover.

Disappointing for the final of the tournament.

Nothing really. She has always been more chaotic and less focused in her destruction, however, and Hibiki is very fast and can teleport. Personally, I could see her peppering the area with explosions as a way to keep Hibiki on his toes perhaps leading to a victory for her but not being the direct way to take him down.