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SSJRuss

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  1. SSJRuss

    Jailhouse Rock Part 1

    By SSJRuss,


    The Loser's Club
    Part 9.1
    The winds of change roll through Verse City, both on the surface and in the underbelly.
    In an abandoned warehouse, Commissioner Donquixote Doflamingo subdues General M. Bison, making him an offer he can't refuse.
    Elsewhere, Amanda Waller and Vince McMahon play their own game of chess. Moving figurative pieces into place so they may capture their goals.
    In the Grand Arena, a Black Swordsman duels a user of the Dark Side. They fight for the victory, they fight for the crowd cheering their names.
    In the Common District, three stooges drive their garbage truck under duress. A fleshy monster tries to kill them but all action stops when they crash into the district junkyard.
    Across town, a skeletal knight runs for his un-life as the embodiment of kawaii tries to catch him. Their antics get them into more trouble than they bargained for.
    And outside of Verse City, an ogre runs through an endless gauntlet of mushroom kingdom iterations alongside an unwanted companion. Both of them journey to find their home.
    But we focus now on the Verse City S.P.D. Common District, where we find our heroine Vin Venture in the hands of the police.
    ____________________________
     
    Bridge Carson sat across from the recently arrested Vin. Charges of reckless endangerment, flying without a permit, no registration, resisting arrest and putting two S.P.D. officers in the infirmary were quite the rap sheet for just one afternoon.
    He spent the better part of a two hour interrogation trying to reason with her and got nowhere. All he had was her name, that she wasn’t a resident of Verse City, and that she claimed to be a contestant of the Grand Tournament before she got thrown out.
    Of course, nobody could verify her story.
    “Listen,” Bridge put on the trademark charm, “We’re willing to help you and let you go. Put all this behind us. We are the good guys after all, you know. But you gotta-”
    “THE FACT that you put me here in the FIRST place is the problem,” Vin interrupted. “I’ve told you and your men what I was doing in the city. I am not from your world and had no idea I was breaking your laws. That doesn’t warrant attacking me and locking me in here.”
    Geez, was she always this combative?
    “Hey, I’m sorry.” Bridge replied. “But your response was pretty extreme too. You damaged our vehicle and hurt my teammates. We have rules here and you can’t just do that.”
    Vin’s body language, yes Bridge could read body language, was closed off and avoided eye contact. Her wrist cuffs were latched onto the table and did nothing but make her look smaller. Now, she made herself big and stared into Bridge’s eyes. “I’m not in the wrong. Let me go about my business.”
    “And what exactly is your business?” Bridge retorted.
    Vin crossed her arms best she could and gave no response but to look the other way.
    So that's that?
    Sigh. Bridge needed a break. Maybe a vacation. “Alright Vin, I tried. When you're ready to talk, you let the Commander know.”
    Bridge got up and left the room. He traversed the halls of S.P.D. Headquarters, got himself a coffee, then headed to his desk where the rest of his team waited.
    “That woman is insufferable!” Bridge told them, taking a seat in his swivel chair.
    Sydney Drew, the S.P.D. Blue Ranger was first to reply, “No luck?”
    “What do you think?” Bridge buried his face into his coffee.
    Standing alongside Sydney was the team’s Green Ranger, Elizabeth Delgado, or better known as ‘Z’. She was still in her ranger suit inspecting the damage to her helmet when she chimed in, “Some people don’t do well with authority. She wouldn’t be the first.”
    “No," said Sydney. "But how many can outrun an Air Delta Cruiser and take on an entire squad of S.P.D on their own? Marika and Umeko are still in the infirmary."
    “How are they doing?” Bridge pulled himself from his cup.
    “Stable,” Z replied. “They should be fine as long as they take it easy for the next few days.”
    “Did you find out how she got so fast and strong?” Sydney asked.
    Bridge put down his half finished coffee and rubbed his eyes in exhaustion. “She isn’t budging, guys. I don’t know what else to say.”
    “I think I may be able to offer some assistance,” said a voice coming into the precinct.
    S.P.D. stood to meet face to face with the district’s resident detective, Denny Colt or otherwise known as The Spirit.
    “The Spirit? You have something for us?” Bridge asked in surprise. He didn't think Spirit would be working a case as arbitrary as this was. In fact, the Spirit hardly ever got involved in S.P.D. business.
    The Spirit revealed his hand, holding two vials. One empty and one filled with a clear liquid with shavings of material floating inside. “I picked these up from analysis," he said "These are the vials Ms. Vin had on her when she was arrested. They’re composed of different metal types and an oil-based fluid."
    “Metal?” Z wondered. “Why would she be drinking that? That’s gross.”
    “Maybe that’s how she was throwing us around? She moves metal with her mind whenever she drinks that.” Sydney said, eyeing the vials in The Spirit’s hand.
    “It’s possible,” The Spirit said, turning his attention to Bridge. “Captain Carson, did she say where she’s from or how she got here?”
    Bridge explained what he knew from Vin. She was a contestant in the Grand Cross-Galactic Budokai Tenkaichi, but was removed from the arena after losing a fight.
    “There were others too,” he continued. “An ogre by the name of Shrek and some guy who calls himself General Bison.”
    “Not a lot to go on. Wait, did you say ‘an ogre’?” Z said in surprise. Bridge nodded in acknowledgement.
    “If she came from the arena,” The Spirit started, “someone there will know something. I can-”
    "Not so fast, Detective," Another voice called, this one deep and commanding.
    Bridge felt the air in the room chill as the group turned and stood at attention for S.P.D. Commander Brock Lesnar.
    As usual the Commander's entourage of twin Machamps were with him. Pokemon built like he was, minus the extra set of arms, they were intimidating and made the Commander look even more so. One of them, Gunter, stood to the right and wore a deep scar across it’s left eye, now pupiless and blind. The other Machamp constantly wore a black tank top with the phrase Suplex City, on front and back. Everyone just called him Suplex.
    The three stood in a row, blocking the entrance to the precinct. The Commander snatched the vials from The Spirit’s hand. “This is evidence. And I don’t remember asking you to tell me what you think it is.”
    Bridge, being the team’s Red Ranger, felt like he had a duty to speak up. “Sir, he was just-”
    “And you, Carson,” Commander Brock turned his attention to Bridge as he handed the vials to Gunter. “You let your whole team get thrashed by a perp and then you embarrass yourself by getting nowhere with I.D.ing her. It’s been two hours, Carson. What the hell have you been doing?”
    “Commander Le-”, Bridge started to explain, but Lesnar wasn’t finished.
    “Shut up. You’re the goddamn Red Ranger. Start acting like it.” The Commander was clearly in a worse mood than usual.
    "Now do your jobs and take the detainee to the holding cells. We’ll give her a few days so she can learn how to talk again."
    “Commander Lesnar," The Spirit said, "Holding that girl for that long seems unethical. If I may just ask a few questions--”
    “I gave an order," said the Commander. "I expect it to be followed. This isn't whatever backwards agencies you were from, this is the Verse City S.P.D."
    The Commander turned to leave with his entourage in tow but stopped short of the door. "I’ll remind you all that anyone caught without a record of Verse City identification is not a citizen of our city. She has no rights here. As far as I'm concerned she's a potential threat to the safety and security of our city. So we'll keep her here as long as we need to."
    And with that, Bridge was alone with his squad and Detective Spirit. None looked to happy about the Commander's decision or attitude. But it was their job to follow orders...
    "I guess that’s that," said Z defeated.
    Bridge felt like he should say something encouraging, something a leader would say. But silence remained as everyone dispersed.
    All that remained was to do the job.
    _______________
     
    --Holding cell inside Verse City S.P.D.
     
    S.P.D took Vin downstairs for lockup. After passing security doors and winding corridors, she found herself at the jail cells. Six cells along a stone wall complete with metal bars.
    Metal. The irony wasn't lost on her. If she only had more of that in her system.
    Vin burned too much of her metal reserves during her fight with Bridge and his team. Honestly, if she'd just been more careful by walking the streets of the city instead of steel pushing, she wouldn't be in this situation right now.
    But she had to toss that thought aside. She needed to stay focused if she wanted to get out of this mess. With no vials left on her person, she took mental note of what she had stored in her body.
    No steel. No iron. She had still had tin, something she would need to enhance her senses for a chance to escape whenever an opportunity arose. Plenty of copper and bronze, though they wouldn’t be of much use in a world without other mistings. She had zinc and brass which might come in handy to distract or enrage the guards. But only enough pewter to last three or four seconds. That was it. She needed to find her vials that they took from her.
    Without a word, the spandex guards locked her in one of the cells. It wasn’t large by any means, but it was certainly better than she’d been treated back home in similar situations. One bed on either side of the cell for her and a cellmate. A green creature with raggy-looking clothes sat on his bed, his large black eyes were almost expressionless. He didn’t seem hostile though.
    The two guards that escorted her left, leaving three others in the room. These guards looked nothing like the spandex ones Vin had encountered so far. They were shorter and less human. They wore matching blue and grey uniforms and talked amongst one another, ignoring their captives.
    Besides herself and the green cellmate, there were three prisoners. A man and a woman shared a cell and wore large red “R”s on their uniforms.
    The other was a large man in a cell to himself. Dark shades over his eyes with a ridiculous haircut. And he was loud.
    “Come-on,” the man said. “Can’t you see I’m innocent?”
    "Quiet down, you pervert!”, one of the guards responded. “You've been singing that same tune this whole time. Nobody's buying it.”
    "Hey now have a heart,” the man continued his plea. “I’m not a bad guy, my momma said so.”
    “I don’t care what your momma thinks. The girl was sixteen, Mr. Bravo. Galactic Patrol and Verse City law states you are indeed the bad guy.”
    “She said she's single!"
    This back and forth continued well into the next day. Vin kept to herself and searched for opportunities to break free of this prison. She learned more about her cellmate, Greedo. He was a petty criminal and didn't speak in any language she understood.
    The big guy was Johnny Bravo and he didn't seem like a fighter. The other two, Jesse and James, told their story in rhyme and didn't seem like they would be any help either.
    Guess it was up to Vin.
    Vin's plan formed in her mind when Bridge walked into the jail.
    “Hey Vin. Feeling up for a chat?”
    Vin responded with silence.
    “I’m asking you to talk to me,” he tried again. “I’m sure this is a misunderstanding because I don’t think you’re a bad person.”
    Bridge was naive and easy to manipulate. She flared zinc. “You wouldn't understand the things I've done. You're too simple.” Vin said.
    "Simple?" Bridge looked hurt. The zinc was working on flaring his emotions. "I'm trying to be nice and your just making things harder."
    "You're a fool. You're the one who told me to talk to your Commander. So where is he?"
    For a second Vin wasn't sure if it was going to work. But then he pulled a guard to his side. "Let her out. She's right, the Commander will talk with her."
    The guard opened her cell and in one swift motion Vin grabbed the keys, elbowed the guard in the face and knocked Bridge down with her knee.
    She tossed the keys to Greedo. "Help the others!"
    He caught the keys and sprang into action.
    ________________
     
    Vin will be rushing for the door to find her other vials and escape. The vials are being kept in the contraband lockup. Bridge will try to stop her and Greedo from freeing the others and escaping but will try not hurt them if he can help it.
  2. SSJRuss
    Part 8
    --Backstage of the Grand Arena, Verse City
     
    Four television screens operated in unison by some tech operator named Steve or Chuck, or whatever. Amanda Waller didn’t care to remember his name. She could see the GCGBTC logo on his uniform and that told her all she needed to know. He was a lackey. A cog in the machine.
    Waller crossed her arms, disinterested in the content of the feed. Instead, she watched the control operator edit the broadcast in real time. Removing M+ rated material on one screen, showcasing that same material in slow motion on another. He added advertisement banners of the sponsors on the bottom and top of the screens, broadcasting cheap products to the trillions watching around the multiverse. Fucking cosmic-capitalism.
    “Isn’t this tournament supposed to be ‘live’?” Waller asked.
    “It is, ma’am,” the operator responded. “Our cameras and transmitters are just so high-tech we can edit while they watch. Sort of like a delay in the feed as it travels across the multi--”
    “I see,” Waller said. “Fascinating development in censorship.”
    “I just do what I’m told... honestly,” The operator replied nervously. He continued maintaining the broadcast.
    Waller turned her attention back to the screens. It was the Grand Cross-Galactic Budokai Tenkaichi, a tournament that spans the entire omniverse, to some degree, every V.C year.(Verse City Calendar year) The whole thing was just a show, of course. Entertainment to draw money to the fat pockets of Verse City. Waller didn’t judge, she’s in on this operation. Thanks to her status and reputation, she got involved at the beginning. Vince McMahon, the tournament’s creator and owner, reached out to her to offer a deal. First dibs on competitors for each and every show. She was happy to accept.
    She watched the fight unfold, if you could even call it that. One of the commentators, Hercule, interjected himself into this tournament without permission and defeated another competitor. Now he’s in round two against Darth Maul, some mystical warrior type. It doesn’t take long for it to end. Hercule’s decapitated head rolled outside of the ring. Ring out or loss by death?
    “Should we proceed with acquisition, Ma’am?” asked the operator.
    “No. My inventory is already filled with buffoons. Send the corpse home.” Waller responded.
    Waller watched the ring announcer Ainz Ooal Gown raise Darth Maul’s hand in victory, bringing the second round of the tournament to an end. The screen cut to a feed of the crowd in the arena as intermission began.
    The operator finally took his hands off the keyboard, stretching his arms wide. “Break time,” he said.
    “Let me see the acquisitions,” Waller said, standing behind the operator’s chair.
    The man looked disappointed as he clicked away at the keys. Moments later, the screens flickered and changed to security footage. Instead of the open arena, it showed high-tech prison cells no bigger than a broom closet. Most of the prisoners were awake now, having just come from their implant surgery. Waller smiled as she counted them. Ten in all so far. She’d made quite the selection this year. She even acquired the last tournament winner, Wonder Woman. Waller made a mental note of the things she’ll need to keep her in line.
    Her phone buzzed in her coat pocket. She tapped the operator’s shoulder, letting him know she was done. He resumed the old feed while Waller answered the call.
    “You enjoying the show, Ms. Waller?” said the voice of Vince McMahon.
    “Vince,” she answered playfully. “You know I hate to talk while I’m shopping.”
    Vince gave his trademark laugh. “What a cold hearted bitch, you are. I love that. It’s a wonder you keep people employed.”
    “I could say the same about you.” Waller retorted.
    “Me? Please Waller, I’m a saint!” Vince said.
    “Well, you have been generous,” Waller replied. “I haven’t had much issue in finding exceptional candidates.”
    “Glad to hear you say that,” Vince said, smoothing his tone. “I’m looking forward to seeing your new task force in action.”
    Waller raised her eyebrow. “Is that why you’re calling me?”
    “I just thought I’d let you know I’ve received word of who you’ve plucked from my show. Looking at the papers right here. I didn’t get this information from you, it seems. I thought you would call.”
    “I told you I’d keep you apprised out of courtesy, Vince. I’m not under your approval.” Waller bit her lip. She knew better to confront McMahon, especially when he’s in the position of power. She added, “Besides, we’ve still got two rounds before-”
    “No need to wait on that,” Vince interrupted. “Those you’ve taken into your ‘custody’ have whole worlds up for grabs. I want to make a move on them today. Send me the final roster.”
    “Of course,” said Waller. “I can send it to you now.”
    “I’d appreciate that,” said Vince. “I’ll send the enforcement teams to gather those and a few others. I’m sure you’re aware of the handful of idiots that we’ve lost track of. I’m taking their worlds as well. Keep things clean.”
    Waller compiled the list on her phone, not pausing to talk to Vince and sent him the file. Waller could hear him using a data-pad over the phone.
    “Ah. These look promising,” Vince spoke slowly, reading each of the names before continuing. “They’ll make some fine heels, I’m sure. That reminds me... How’s that old squad of yours? The one you acquired from me last year? They’re raising hell?”
    Waller rolled her eyes. Of course Vince wanted something else from her.
    “Task Force V was just on assignment in the Himalayas,” she said.
    “Well, I might have something for them. Keep them close by. I’ll have the commission send you the details of what I want. Have fun shopping, Ms. Waller.” Vince ended the call.
    Amanda Waller returned the phone to her coat pocket. She shook the chill from her spine. Talking to that snake Vince McMahon was almost too much to stomach. If she wasn’t indebted to him…
    She turned to see if the operator was listening in, but he’d already gone on break.
     
    --Undisclosed Location inside Verse City
     
    Vince McMahon kicked his feet off the desk and returned his cell to his pocket. He adjusted his tie and shouted, “Alright come in here, goddamnit.”
    The door opened to reveal a tall and sinister looking man by the name of Donquixote Doflamingo. He wore a grimace on his face near 24/7. Like he had a secret he wouldn’t let anyone in on. Vince was hesitant to employ this man due to his pompous attitude, but he’d proven himself thus far. He was added to Vince’s executive commission. Doflamingo wore the commission’s membership pin on his collar.
    “Vince McMahon,” Doflamingo said coolly. “What’s the idea keeping me waiting? You know we’re both impatient men.”
    “I don’t give a damn what we have in common, Flamingo. Don’t bang down my door when I’m busy. Now what’s so important?” Vince asked.
    “My agents have a report.” Doflamingo approached the desk and handed Vince a file. “They found the man you’re looking for. M.Bison. Seems like he’s taken a liking to your city.”
    Vince eyed Doflamingo, then the file. According to this, M.Bison had been spotted wandering Verse City instead returning to his homeworld.
    Vince smiled. “Of course he’s still here. This is the city of a billion dreams, after all. Okay, now. Go and find him.”
    “One from my crew has eyes on him now. They can-” Doflamingo started, but Vince cut him off by standing. “No. I want you to go find him. Make it personal. Make him feel important enough that a member of our commission has gone looking for him. He’ll feel disrespected if we don’t present him with somebody capable.”
    Vince watched Doflamingo’s trademark grin turn into an angry frown.
    “You’re strong, tough as nails. If he can stand up to you, then he’s worth my money.” Vince finished.
    Vince discarded the file and walked toward the exit.
    “You want to offer him a seat? He’s a nobody. He didn’t make it past the preliminaries,” Doflamingo said.
    Vince turned to him one last time. “I don’t have to answer you, Flamingo. I can ask you to do whatever the hell I want. I want you to find the guy. Test him and see what he’s made of. If there is potential, I want to claim it. Bring him to me and do it today.”
    Vince didn’t wait for a response before leaving his office. Doflamingo made preparations to leave. He would find this M.Bison.
     
    --Some abandoned warehouse in Verse City
     
    M.Bison lifted Dellinger’s broken body off the ground. He gripped the man’s neck, squeezing until he got that appropriate attention.
    “Why have you been following me. Who do you work for?” M.Bison asked.
    Dellinger coughed blood before speaking, “I--- don’t know what you’re talking about..”
    Psycho energy surrounded M.Bison. His grip tightened, raising Dellinger higher off the ground. “I don’t make it a habit of asking twice.”
    Dellinger kicked his legs out to no avail. M.Bison noted the resistance.
    “So be it then,” M.Bison snapped the boy’s neck.
    He tossed the body aside. He’d made a small collection of bodies surrounding him by this point. Dismantled goons of some unknown mastermind thought they could get the better of the Shadaloo King.
    Pathetic.
    M.Bison looked over the bodies and noticed their insignias. Nothing he recognized but that wasn’t unexpected. He was in a new land after all, Verse City. The city he’d been tossed out into after that unfortunate incident with that girl and the ogre. Those two had ruined his chances of winning the grand tournament. Revenge was on the menu for them.
    But in due time. He needed a base of operations in this city if Shadaloo were to operate here. He was still getting his bearings when he noticed he was being followed. He led them here to this near empty warehouse so he could confront them. Possibly offer them work if they swore loyalty. Unfortunate.
    Bison kicked over a corpse, finding just what he was looking for. A cell phone. He picked it up and seeing as it had EUS (extrauniversal service) he called his henchmen, Vega, from his homeworld.
    “I need you to trace this phone,” Bison commanded. “You’ll find a few unimportant goon bodies that you need to examine. Find their boss. Search for this symbol they wear. Find out all you can.”
    Vega’s response was cut short as the phone was cut in half. Bison turned in surprise. He could sense this was the work of someone in the shadows.
    “Fuffuffuffuffu. Did I scare you, Bison?” Doflamingo revealed himself. He walked in with hands in his coat, but looked ready to fight.
    Psycho energy built within M.Bison. “Your goons seem to be lacking. Clearly you know my name but have no idea who I am.”
    “Fuffufuffu. I honestly could care less. You did kill my subordinate though and I don’t take kindly to that sort of behavior.” Doflamingo raised his hand and flicked but a single finger.
    Bison felt a tug at his neck. Suddenly his limbs were not his own. He was stiff and ridget, as if his body was fighting itself. Like a puppet…
    Doflamingo laughed, manipulating his fingers to bring Bison to heel. But the Shadaloo Leader resisted.
    Bison flared his power, sending energy crashing into Doflamingo and cutting his string.
    Now free, M.Bison began his counter attack.
  3. SSJRuss

    Part 7: Talk Dirty To Me

    By SSJRuss,

    Part 7
    --Back in the alleyway outside the Grand Arena, Verse City.
    The alleyway had been quiet for sometime after the scuffle. The usual sounds of hustle and bustle returned to fill the streets. Normal life in Verse City once again.
    But life in Verse City was far from normal.
    ______________________
    HONK HONK!
    Moe drilled his palm down into the center of the steering wheel. “Driving in this town is the worst!”
    Moe, with his cohorts Larry and Curly, were stuck on the freeway during a terrible case of gridlock. The sun beamed hot and high, causing them to keep the windows rolled down in their Verse City dump truck. Or V.C.T., as the logo on the side suggested.
     
    Verse City Trash
    “Cleaning Up The Multiverse,
               So You Don’t Have To”
     
    They each tried to ignore the stench of the truck bed wafting in and enjoy what little breeze they could. They sat together, the three of them inseparable in life as they were now, stuffed in the front seat with no elbow room.
    “You said it, Moe.” Larry said. “I’ve about had it up to here with this job. Why did we agree to this in the first place?”
    Curly, the biggest and baldest of the three stooges, responded with his own question, “Didn’t ya say that about our last job, Larry?”
    Moe answered them both, “Heh, our last job was a stinker too. This one isn’t much better but at least we’re out of the Forgotten District.”
    “Where was that? I forget,” Larry wondered.
    Without looking, Moe reached over Curly and slapped Larry in the back of the head.
    “Forget that wise guy?” Moe mocked. “No sense in remembering ‘cause we got better days ahead of us. I’m telling you boys, new horizons.” He let his hand drift outside with a starry look in his eyes.
    “We ain’t got nothing but cars ahead of us, Moe. You’re delusional.” Curly said.
    Moe went to strike him too, but Curly put a hand up to stop him, “Hey now, hands on the wheel, buster!”
    Moe paused to consider, then put his hands back at ten and two. Curly gave his trademark, ‘Nyuk Nyuk Nyuk!’ as the traffic inched forward.
    "Say I remember now,” said Larry, rubbing the back of his head. “We do this job and we're free to go!"
    "That's right.” Moe answered. “Once our community service is up, we'll be regular citizens again in the big city. If only these people knew how to drive we could actually get somewhere."
    The traffic inched forward again, but not much else occurred between the three men as they waited another thirty minutes before they were about to get off the freeway and to their destination. Central District, or more commonly called ‘The Common’.
    The Common existed as its own independent district within the Megalopolis that is Verse City. It was one of the only sections of the city that tourism was encouraged and that citizens of neighboring districts could mingle or participate in commerce. Generally, the Common was the first thing you saw of the city when you arrived, as most of the infrastructure for multiverse travel began and ended here. It also served as the capital and the seat of government for Verse City.
    Major sporting events were also held here. The Grand Arena, known for its extravagant tournaments, started on 52nd street and also marked the start of the Stooges’ trash route.
    Moe turned the wheel, taking the truck into the alleyway behind the Grand Arena.
    “Well boys, here’s where the route starts. Let’s earn our keep,” said Moe, signaling the three of them to get into action. Curly and Larry got out to stretch their legs and pick up loose trash in the alley. Moe stopped the truck at the first dumpster in a line of dumpsters and with a careful hand, started the heavy machinery. Two mechanical arms jutted from the dump truck, picked up the dumpster and deposited it into the truck bed.
    “Neh, so dirty out here,” Curly complained, picking a loose trash bag off the ground and tossing it up with the intention of it landing in the truck bed and not on his friend Larry who stood on the other side.
    The sound of Larry’s dismay told Curly that he missed his target. “Hey, watch it buddy!” Larry shouted.
    “Sorry Larry,” said Curly. “Guess I’m too strong for my own good.”
    “You two quit fooling around or I’ll toss you in the garbage myself,” said Moe, moving the truck to the next dumpster in the line. He operated the arms like before, but not wanting to get distracted by his friends usual banter and antics, he turned on the radio. The hit single ‘Talk Dirty’ By Jason Derulo was on. It wasn’t really his jam, but Moe found himself whistling to the trumpets and shaking his shoulders.
    Continuing to clean, Curly bent down to pick up a can, not realizing the truck arms were lowering for the dumpster and knocked him in the back of the head.
    THUD
    WOOB WOOB WOOB WOOB
    “Curly, what are ya doing?” Larry found Curly on the ground and helped him up and out of the way.
    “The thing tried to clobber me!” Curly said, shaking his head to get his wits back. “Dang it, Moe. Watch where ya swinging that thing.”
    Moe didn’t hear him, continuing to whistle and empty each of the dumpsters in the alley. Only two more to go.
    Larry dusted the dirt off of Curly’s coveralls, “Come on, let’s finish this up. I’m starving.”
    Curly answered with hungry interest and followed Larry to pick up the last of the trash on the ground.
    The dump truck moved to the last dumpster and began to lift it. Moe’s song came to an end as the truck lurched side to side.
    “What the-” He stuck his head out of the window to see the mechanical arms were stuck, suspending the dumpster in the air. A terrible whirring sound came from the truck bed.
    Curly and Larry walked over to investigate. “What happened, Moe?” Curly asked.
    “What does it look like, knucklehead? It’s stuck.” Moe mashed the controls but the arms didn’t budge. “I think the gear is jammed. See what you can do.”
    Curly nodded, then gripped the dumpster from underneath to pull. Meanwhile, Larry climbed one of the arms to attempt to free the dumpster. Neither were successful.
    “Oh my! This thing is certainly dirty,” said Curly, unaware of the bloody ooze slicking down behind him from the back of the dumpster.
    “Oh really, Curly? I hadn’t noticed. Thanks a lot.” Larry responded, struggling to wiggle one of the arms loose.
    “You’re welcome. Larry.”
    Moe cursed the two and climbed out of the truck, “Are you two planning on getting anything accomplished today? We still got eight more streets to go down before we get a break.”
    Moe slapped Larry in the face, causing him to fall off the mechanical arm. He followed that with a double eye-poke to Curly, who hollered in pain.
    He backed away, intending to retaliate when he noticed that instead of backing into the brick wall behind him, he backed into something warm, wet, and putrid.
    “WHA WHA WHA” Moe and Larry were frozen with fear, mouths incapable of forming coherent words.
    They both stared behind Curly, who rubbed his eyes and turned slowly. “Wha--”
    “NAH AH AH!” Curly practically leapt out of his skin at the sight of the skinless Meat. A bloody mess of a man who towered over Curly with one eye intact and murderous intent.
    The three stooges shoved themselves back into the truck haphazardly. Larry screamed, “GET US OUT OF HERE!”
    Moe attempted to oblige but failed when Meat caught the driver’s side door before it closed.
    The trio screamed. Moe stepped on the gas pedal as Meat’s face burst through the window, ready to consume each of them.
  4. SSJRuss

    s12e01. My Next Guest...

    By SSJRuss,

    "Greetings. I am Space Ghost. Welcome to my show."
    The empty studio echoed his voice. The silence was deafening. After several seconds, Space Ghost let out a frustrated sigh and faded onto the chair behind his desk.
    The long forgotten one time cosmic hero turned talk show host, Space Ghost, began his show like he always did:
    "My first guest tonight is--" 
    Zorak, his former enemy turned co-host, screeched, "You don't have any guests."
    Space Ghost looked at him without saying a word, then blasted the wall with one of his twin powerbands, leaving a scorch mark next to Zorak.
    Space Ghost smiled a half-assed smile then tapped his cue cards against his desk.
    "Where the hell is my coffee, Zorak?" he changed the subject.
    “How the hell should I know?” Zorak stared blankly at Space Ghost.
    “Moltar, do you know where my coffee is?” Space Ghost asked his co-star who managed the cameras and set. “Hmm?”
    Space Ghost sighed again when Moltar declined to respond. Nobody ever listened to his complaints anyway.
    Space Ghost looked at the papers on his desk to see the scheduled guests for tonight. He faked surprise when he saw the list was blank. He already knew that, but he didn’t want to accept that his show wasn’t on the air. Because it wasn’t. The show, Space Ghost Coast to Coast hadn’t seen a live guest in years.
    “Guess I’ll take my commercial break early and get my coffee then. At least then I can make it the way I like!” Space Ghost said aloud. When nobody responded, he turned into his ghost form and reformed in the kitchen attached to the set.
    How long have I been doing this?
    Years, surely. But how many? Decades? Centuries? There was no true way to tell the passage of time in space. Well, maybe there was but he didn’t know of any. All communication with the outside world stopped in 2008. It was like the world had forgotten him because no matter what Space Ghost tried, he could not leave the set of Coast to Coast.
    Moltar thinks they’re all in some ‘Forgotten Zone’ of existence where everyone who becomes irrelevant ends up. Well maybe it was non-existence now that he thought about it. Regardless, the whole idea was cockamamie. All he knew for sure was that after his show went off the air, himself and the rest of the cast of Coast to Coast found that their studio was in a different plane of existence. It looked the same to the untrained eye. But Space Ghost’s eyes were well trained. Those things could win awards they were so well trained.
    Space Ghost found the coffee pot had already been brewed. He searched the cabinet for his favorite mug with the imprint of his logo on it. Lucky for him he didn’t have to look hard, the cabinet was filled with copies of the same mug. He grabbed the nearest one, poured himself half a cup and sipped it.
    The moment the liquid touched his lips, Space Ghost felt something drop in his lower abdomen.
    Since nobody was watching his show, what better time to take a space dump? “I have been irregular lately.”
    “What?” Zorak shouted from his desk in the other room. Apparently he heard Space Ghost’s voice and had nothing better to do than to ask him questions.
    “I’m going to go take a space dump!” Space Ghost shouted back. “Entertain the audience until I return.” He faded from the kitchen and teleported to the set bathroom.
    “We have no audience, you Space shit!” Zorak said, not knowing Space Ghost had left the kitchen.
     

    Space Ghost swung open the bathroom stall door. “It is I, Space Ghost!”
    As expected, the bathroom was empty except for him. He sat on the cold toilet seat and dropped his pants. He wasn’t sure how long this was going to take, so he made himself comfortable and found a newspaper Moltar usually left there. It was dated May 30th, 2008. He’d read this hundred times but he liked to act as if it were something new.
    “Oh, would you look at that? Charlie Sheen got married. Good for him. Great guy…”
    It was either this or the reading material left behind by Zorak, which was nothing but vulgar graffiti on the bathroom walls that read: “Zorak rules!” and “Space Ghost sucks ass!”
     

    Space Ghost faded onto the set like an apparition. Time to try this again.
    "Greetings. I am Space Ghost. Welcome to my show."
    He got into his desk and took a sip of his coffee, smiling devilishly at the camera. Zorak and Moltar watched him from their stations, unsure of what he was going to do. Or if he was going to do anything at all.
    Space Ghost took another sip. Sip. Sip. Sip.
    Sip. Sssssip. Sipppppp.

    At one point he started slurping, which drove Zorak to yell, “I will fucking shoot you!”
    “Hey,” Space Ghost rebutted, “You can’t say that on the air!”
    “We aren’t live, Space Ghost,” Moltar’s voice chimed in. “You do realize that, don’t you?”
    “Of course I do,” responded Space Ghost, “What do think I am? Deranged?”
    “I never said that-”
    “Think I’ve lost touch with reality, huh Moltar? Hm? HMM?” Space Ghost rang his fists through the air and he got louder with every ‘Hmm’ me spat. “Hmm? Hmmmm?”
    “Uhh--” Moltar didn’t know what to say at this point. And it looked like Zorak was staying out of it.
    Space Ghost stood up to emphasize the next aggressive ‘Hmmm’ when the television screen lowered aside his desk. The screen was black then flashed images of static.
    The three of them looked at the TV, then at each other.
    “This isn’t funny, Moltar,” Space Ghost said.
    “Hey, that wasn’t--” Moltar’s voice was cut off by a sudden crash, as someone fell through the ceiling and landed next to Space Ghost.
    It was a man in his 20s by the look of him. He wore a combination of metal, leather and torn fabrics that fitted his body. He quickly got to his feet, seemingly unfazed by the fall, and ignited a crimson blade in his hand. He seemed confused, but hostile. Space Ghost pointed his powerbands at him, ready to fry him if things got ugly.
    “Who are you?” Space Ghost asked. Zorak and the newcomer echoed the same question but before any of them could answer, the television set flickered again. This time the image wasn’t static, it was the face of a rather smug looking gecko.
     

    “Is this thing on? OH, Space Ghost! Rad,” said the gecko.
    Space Ghost turned his ready-to-fire powerband at the television, “Who are you supposed to be?”
    “He looks delicious,” Zorak said.
    The man with the red laser blade tried to get everyone’s attention again, but his words fell on deaf ears.
    The gecko continued on, “I’m supposed to be the guy getting entertained by mindless television. Unfortunately, your show is the only thing worth watching on FZTV and you haven’t even been on the air”
    “FZ-whatsie?” Space Ghost asked.
    “Forgotten Zone Television. Don’t you watch?” The gecko asked in return.
    “No.” Space Ghost said. “And I won’t either. What kind of man would I be if I took a recommendation from a lizard? I’d be an idiot, that’s what.”
    “Who are you calling a lizard, pal? The name’s Gex. I’m a gecko who has an itch for the finer programs in life and your show is up next on my TV Guide. I figured you needed a new guest so I found this guy and dropped him off.” Gex pointed at the newcomer. “You’re welcome.”
    Space Ghost responded by blasting the TV, breaking it and Gex’s connection along with it. The newcomer wasn’t fond of that decision however and swung his sword near Space Ghost’s neck.
    “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The newcomer asked. “He had answers I needed.”
    Space Ghost whirled around to face his ‘guest’ with his powerbands. “I will fucking shoot you!”
     
    END
  5. SSJRuss

    Part 6: Them Bones

    By SSJRuss,

    Part 6
     
    --Alleyway Outside the Grand Arena, Verse City.
    Our blood-soaked Hero of Gallowmere swung his mighty sword, cutting off the head of the Meat-monster-man. It gave a blood-curdling screech as it’s head flew into the air and splattered onto the ground.
    Well done, Sir Daniel!
    The creature’s body went limp for a moment, then ejected another head from it’s neck.
    “Uhhh oh!” (Uh oh!) Daniel mumbled.
    It seems he’s not yet vanquished. No time to waste, Fortesque. Finish him!
    Daniel looked around frantically for what to do next. With mere moments to spare before the Meat-monster-man would be ready to strike, he grabbed the monster and flung him into the wall. A splat sounded on the brick and the creature slid behind the dumpster.
    Sir Daniel felt relieved that he'd won, but the creature stood back up.
    This medium-rare monstrosity just won’t stay down. Perhaps it is best if you--
    Sir Daniel pushed the dumpster against the wall, crushing Meat in-between. This felt more like a win with the monster letting out a whisper of defeat and dissolved back into a fleshy-flesh puddle.
    Well, that didn't go as expected. But what is a victory without a little unexpected tumultuousness?
    Daniel wiped his skeletal hands clean of the blood and garbage and retrieved his things. To his delight everything seemed to be in order.
    The question now was, what to do next? He certainly didn't like the way they treated him in the arena, throwing out his bones like yesterday's trash. But looking at the structure, it would be quite a task to get back in there.
    So if not there, where? Back home to Gallowmere? How would his fellow heroes feel about him coming home empty-handed? After all, he took this quest for the ultimate chance at an eternal wish. And he remembered something about monetary compensation for failure. Who had told him that?
    Daniel couldn't remember. And with no other options, he left the alleyway and strolled the sidewalk of the vast city.
    According to the signs, he was in someplace called Verse City. The sites and sounds were nothing like he'd ever seen before. Daniel was mesmerized by the different kinds of people he saw. Some wore outfits that looked incredibly uncomfortable and revealing. Others weren't even people, just strange animals or magical beings. It was a lot to take in for just one eye.
    Fortunately, he didn’t stand out in this crowd as others walked by without so much as a glance. Daniel had his fair share of trouble for one day and was glad for the anonymity.
    A wailing sound from above caught his attention which caused him to look up. He saw the blue sky was peppered with flying objects. Many of them were made of metal and carried people. Many of them were just people. But the sound came from a metal behemoth, flashing red and blue lights as it raced through the air waves. It looked to be in pursuit of someone… a woman. She bounced off the tall buildings and flowed as seamlessly as the tassels on her back.
    Had he seen her before?
    Daniel narrowed his eye, but she turned a corner and the flying behemoth followed close behind, out of his view. There went his chance to remember, Daniel supposed.
    He continued on until he reached the end of the sidewalk. Before he was a concrete crossroads filled with its flashing lights, busy people and metal carriages. Perhaps Daniel could find new glory here instead of returning to his crypt?
    It seems our Hero has a dilemma before him. Return home a failure, or seek new prestige in this new land?
    Sir Daniel Fortesque considered his options. There was the Verse City Pawn Shop. A sign plastered on the door read: Under New Management.
    Not there.
    Verse City Pets and Where To Find Them?
    Nope.
    Foley's Van Repair?
    Daniel didn’t even know what a van was.
    The Carlton Club? Or perhaps the Welcome Wagon Deli and Bistro?
    It had been decades since he tasted a fine brew. If only he’d had a bottom jaw.
    Then a sign for The Omni-Mega-Mall caught his attention. The sign continuously flashed with words bigger than he was tall. Now that he noticed, there were a few more signs and posters for this place and arrows were embedded on the building sides that pointed to it’s direction.
    Not a bad place to start, eh Fortesque?
    Before Daniel could make the decision, another sound came from behind him. Something between the squeal of a baby and a kitten. When he turned to look, he was greeted by a blue haired little girl. She stood near a foot shorter than him and wore a schoolgirl’s attire. Her hands were pressed against her mouth and she looked at him with the most adorable glossy eyes. She made the sound again, causing Daniel's bones to rattle.
    “Waht r uh ionng?” (What are you doing?) Daniel asked.
    She answered immediately with an “Oh my goodness!” then continued to gawk at him. “You're so cute!”
    Daniel noticed this girl was alone. Where were her parents? He tried to ask, but she didn’t seem to understand his garbled speech. She did, however, reach out to touch him. Daniel politely stepped back, only for her to repeat her action.
    “Mr. Skeleton man,” She said. “I wanna put you in my house for decoration.”
    If Daniel had a heart, it would have stopped from the shock of this girl’s audacity. “Noh aay (No way.)
    "You're so cool looking, though" She swung her arms in a circle, as if to get her point across. "Seriously, a total creepy vibe. That’s, like, my thing."
    She continued to advance until Sir Daniel found himself backed into a wall. He attempted to pull his sword, but thought better of it. It wasn’t in him to harm this girl, no matter what she intended. He needed a way out of this.
    It appears that our dubious knight has been trapped by a little fan-girl. How will you proceed, Fortesque?
    The girl inched forward, grasping at his bones when he pulled out his shield to block her. She obviously didn’t expect that because now she was holding it instead of him.
    She looked at the shield, perplexed. “Huh? This shield has your face on it. Pretty cool--HEY!” She saw her would-be decoration racing down the street in utter panic.
    “Come back here!” She said as she ran after him.
  6. SSJRuss
    Part 5
    -- Inside Henchmen Tryouts Gym.
    Shrek couldn’t believe it, but somehow he managed to stagger Bowser. One last punch to the big oaf's snout was enough to send him backwards into the wrestling ring ropes and rebound to the mat.
    The crowd, full of wannabe henchmen, had finally turned against him and cheered ‘Ogre! Ogre! Ogre!’. Their excitement was palpable. Shrek could feel their energy and it made the pain in his knuckles and face lessen. He roared to the crowd, feeding off their energy and made their cheers grow louder.
    He saw Bowser move out of the corner of his eye, beginning to rouse.
    “Oh no you don’t,” said Shrek as he reached for his opponent’s leg. In seconds, he had him locked into a one-legged Boston crab.
    The big turtle howled in pain as he clawed at the mat, trying desperately to reach the ropes to give himself leverage and break the hold. But Shrek’s grip was firm and held him in place.
    "Ya like that ya big--" He started to mock until Bowser pushed up off the mat. The strength surprised him. He had more in the tank than he was letting on. So Shrek focused, tightening his hold and sat down to increase the pressure. The strain was too much however, and he broke wind.
    The fart carried with it a green mist that wafted under Bowser’s nose. The big oaf went limp. He dropped back to the mat, wheezing and coughing. "Oh please noooo! The smell! Make it stop!"
    Shrek let go of the hold and watched the big guy roll around the mat in agony.
    "You just got Shrek’d!” He said then laughed. He turned to face the crowd who weren’t amused, just disgusted.
    “Get it? Shrek’d? Oh, nevermind.” He waved them off as Bowser managed to crawl to the corner of the ring.
    “So, are we done now?” Shrek asked.
    "Yes!" Said Bowser, breathing out of his mouth.
    "Well then," Shrek wiped his hands clean and dusted off his shabby vest. "Looks like you're paying for my way home."
    There was a long pause between them, then Bowser picked himself up to his knees and buried his face in his hands. Shrek heard the sound of whimpering.
    "Oh. Are… you crying? Oh come on. There's no crying in wrestling!"
    Well now I feel bad.
    He placed a hand on the big oaf’s shoulder. "Look buddy, you're a tough guy. Don’t let this get ya down. Come on, people are watching.”
    Shrek pointed out the crowd to Bowser, whose expression seemed like he hadn’t realized they were even there.
    “I’m sure they’re still afraid of ya, too.” He added encouragingly.
    "You really think so?" Bowser said, wiping away his tears. He didn’t see Shrek cringe when he replied, "Yeaaah. And you know what I bet they respect you too."
    "Really?" Bowser’s demeanor started to brighten up.
    “Yeah. So, how about you keep your word like the respectable, terrifying turtle you are and send me on my way?”
    "My word? Oh--" Bowser let himself be helped to his feet.
    "I need to get back to my swamp and I got to pay to use one of those portal… things." Shrek said.
    "But,” Bowser gave him a wide-eyed look. “You'd make such a great henchmen. Why leave when you could work for me!?"
    Shrek put his hand up, rejecting the idea. "I don’t work for anyone other than me and my own. So if you could please--"
    "But, I have no money…" Bowser admitted.
    Shrek couldn’t believe what he just heard. Did he really have no money? Looking at the crowd of would-be grunts, they didn’t seem too surprised by this revelation. Why do all of this if he didn’t have money in the first place?
    He exhaled in frustration, “Oh come on! You have to be kidding me? All of that fighting and you were just bluffing?”
    Bowser placed his hand on Shrek’s shoulder this time, “Look, I didn’t expect anyone to actually beat me. I was just recruiting for a big job I have here in Verse City. The money was going to come after. But I understand, you want to go home. I can help.”
    “Forgive me for not exactly believing you.” Shrek removed the hand. “And you could have started with that.”
    Bowser waved for him to follow outside the ring. “All my riches are back home in the Mushroom Kingdom. There, we use what is called warp pipes. That’s how I traveled here. They work better than those over-priced portals out on the street anyway.”
    “And it can take me back to my swamp?” Shrek asked.
    “Yes,” came the reply.
    He considered this. It sounded far fetched, but he didn’t have much choice in the matter. This was his best shot at getting home.
    The audience parted as the two exited the gym. They walked through double doors, following down winding hallways until they reached another door. This one was guarded by several little people made up of only faces and feet. Shrek thought they looked like mushrooms.
    With a flick of Bowser’s wrist, the guards open the door and move aside for them to enter. Shrek followed him into what looked to be some kind of underground cellar that was being used as a base of operations. It was big and spacious, with more of those mushroom guards wandering around.
    Shrek immediately saw the pipe. It was a large green tunnel sticking straight out of the floor.
    “Portals in and out of Verse City are controlled by the city.” The big oaf explained. “This one is mine and they don’t know about it. I’d like to keep it that way.”
    “Sure but... I’m just supposed to slide down this pipe?” Shrek asked, inspecting the pipe closely.
    Bowser leaned up against the pipe like he was cool and wasn’t just crying like a child minutes ago. “Like you said, I keep my word.”
    Shrek gave him another disbelieving glare, “How about you go first? I’m pipe shy.”
    “Fine. Let me show you.” Bowser agreed as he jumped on top of the pipe then slid down. After a couple of seconds, the ogre followed.
    He couldn’t explain the strange sensation that came with traveling between worlds, he only knew that it seemed both instantaneous and perpetual. When he came out the other side, Shrek found that he was not back in his swamp.
    This world was colorful and filled with castles and fluffy clouds and mushrooms and bricks and--
    CHOMP!
    “AAAHH!” Shrek shrieked in pain. A potted plant now attached to his arm with sharp teeth.
    He tried to yank it off but he couldn’t get a good grip on the thing. It was alive, this piranha plant. Shrek fell to his knees but not before seeing Bowser standing over him, wearing the biggest grin on his face.
    “Haha! You're a bigger fool than that plumber! I never keep my word!” Bowser’s foot connected with Shrek’s jaw. A blow strong enough to send the piranha plant across the floor and put Shrek down for good. The last thing he’d see was Bowser walking back through the pipe. “Good luck getting home, loser!”
    ___________________________________
     
    “Hey!” A voice cut through the dark of unconsciousness. “Hey, Vern!”
    “Ya best be getting on up now!” the voice shouted again..
    Light finally caught Shrek’s eyes. He awoke with his head and arm throbbing. Standing over him where that bastard Bowser used to be was now a gangly human with an incredibly stretchy face and big eyes.
    “Come on, Vern! We need to get outta here, ya hear?”
    “Where am I?” Shrek asked, sitting up to rub his head. He quickly noticed they were in the world that Bowser led him too.
    “I’ll tell ya later. First, ma name’s Ernest P. Worrell. It’s a pleasure to meet ya. Second, we’re sittin’ ducks if we don’t high tail it outta here!”
    “What do you mean?” Shrek asked.
    Ernest turned around to show the ogre just what he meant. In the distance, those little mushroom people were racing toward them.
    “They won’t stop chasing me, Vern!”
    Realizing the danger, Shrek jumped to his feet. He felt flush for a moment but recovered. His jaw was sore but intact. And his arm was stiff but he could move it fine. Looks like this Ernest bandaged him up while he was out.
    Looking around, the pipe was gone. No way back home. Or back to Verse City. This was turning into another shitty adventure, wasn’t it?
    “We find shelter… there.” Shrek pointed out the castle far past the oncoming enemies.
    “Oh but, that’s so far away.” Ernest said.
    “Trust me. We want to go to the castle. It’s how you finish a quest. Come on, fella.” Shrek said, leading the way toward the castle.
    ____________________
  7. SSJRuss

    Part 4: Undead Losers

    By SSJRuss,

    Part 4
    --Inside the Grand Arena, Verse City.
     
    The crowd cheered for Sir Daniel Fortesque the moment he stepped into the ring. Of course, how could they not? He was the Hero of Gallowmere!
    But if Sir Daniel was honest with himself, his opponent standing before him looked pretty intimidating. He had evil in his eyes. An evil only a wizard could have!
    Shock and gasp, Sir Daniel! Is this another one of Zarok’s minions? I suppose you need to let him have it, eh?
    Sir Daniel nodded. “Vvllle illlnn!” (Vile villain!)
    I can see you’re serious.
    “Imm ahhmm.” (I am.)
    “Who are you talking to?” The evil eyed Shang Tsung asked. "Your focus should be here, in this fight."
    “Bwwng iddon!” (Bring it on!) Sir Daniel mumbled. He brought a shield to his chest and unsheathed his long sword.
    “You will die again, Skeleton.” Shang stood tall, then stretched his arms into a fighting stance, ready for battle.
    It seems he’s also taking this seriously. Be careful Sir--
    Sir Daniel charged forward, putting his meanest face on display and raising his sword to strike.
    Shang dodged the first attack. Then the second. Then a third and fourth and every single attack after. He made a show of just how easy it was, sidestepping or flipping over each swing of the blade.
    Finally, he got in close and delivered a kick to Daniel’s midsection, sending him across the ring.
    The Hero of Gallowmere seems to be in trouble. But never fear, see that he rises to--- Oh-
    A green energy lifted Sir Daniel off his feet, strangling him. The same aura shrouded Shang Tsung’s hands. “You’re not even worth the warm-up.”
    The Hero of Gallowmere seems to be in dire trouble. But he is confident and courageous and--- Oh-
    Daniel’s eye began to whiten as Shang Tsung slowly tore the soul from his skeletal body. The pain was agonizing, like being ripped apart. But before Daniel lost consciousness, Shang used his power to throw him outside the ring. Claiming a swift victory.
    Sir Daniel’s body crumbled, a mound of bones and armor piling outside of the ring as Ainz Ooal Gown raised Shang Tsung’s hand to the crowd. They cheered for the sorcerer.
    “Well that’s that, folks. Not the slobberknocker we were hoping for,” said the black hatted announcer. “But, we have an official winner! Shang Tsung moves on to round two.”
     
    ***
     
    I’m sure our hero expected those cheers would be for him. But alas, he was defeated. The arena janitorial staff had to get a mighty dustpan to sweep Daniel up and into the garbage chute.
    Daniel’s lifeless bones rattled down the chute until finally landing in the alleyway outside the venue. In a dumpster, no less.
    Such disrespect to our once gallant hero. From laying to rest in the Hall of Heroes, to being discarded like yesterday’s tra---
    What’s this? Life came back to Sir Daniel's eye! He seems disoriented. He must be fine.
    Get yourself together now, Hero of Gallowmere. I’m starting to get queasy from all of this garbage. Climb, yes, climb!
    Daniel’s hand found his arm, which found his torso, then his neck and skull. He pulled himself together bone by bone and finally broke free of the dumpster.
    Nice work. Now find your legs so we can get along.
    One by one, he reattached his legs and put his armor and sword in place. All that was missing was his other arm. Where was it--- Ah Ha! There, in that nasty flesh puddle. Go and grab it.
    He moved and the puddle formed into a skinless man. He held the detached arm between his teeth.
    Shock and gasp, Sir Daniel! Is this ANOTHER one of Zarok’s minions? I suppose you need to let him have it, don't you?
    No, not the arm! I meant a wallop.
    “Ghvve dhaat arrck!" (Give that back!) Daniel mumbled his demand. Despite not having a bottom jaw, he looked quite serious.
    The man of meat chewed on the bone, only further frustrating our unlucky hero. With one arm left, Sir Daniel lifted his sword and charged.
     
    A Back Alley Battle of Undead Losers Begins...
  8. SSJRuss
    Part 1
    --In the locker room of the Grand Cross-Galactic Budokai Tenkaichi Arena
     
    The medical droid removed the last bit of shrapnel from Shrek’s back. "Watch it will ya? Ow!" It wasn’t deep, but damn if it didn’t hurt.
    "My apologies, sir,” the medical droid said. “This unit wishes no harm to you. My primary purpose is rehabilitation of contestants.”
    "Well, I'm not feeling rehabilitated and I’m not a contestant anymore, now am I?" Shrek tried to turn around to smack the little robot but the ache of his body and the bandages wrapped around his torso hindered him.
    "The GCGBTC extends--”
    “The what?” Shrek interrupted.
    “The GCGBTC, an acronym for Grand Cross-Galactic Budokai Tenkaichi Committee,” it explained. “They are the organizers for the tournament and were the ones that contacted you requesting your participation.”
    “Oh, well why didn’t you say so?” Shrek rolled his head, sarcasm dripping in his tone. “That makes perfect sense.”
    “I’m glad to hear that, sir. As I was saying, the GCGBTC extends medical care to all participants. It is our wish that you leave here with the best--"
    "Yeah yeah." Shrek stood as the droid finished patching him up. "Just give me my reward so I can be on my way.”
    Shrek couldn’t remember how he’d gotten here or why he’d decided to participate in this dumb tournament. But what he did remember was someone had told him he’d get a monetary reward for participating and a wish granted if he won. Either way, he would get something out of this whole ordeal.
    The droid didn’t hesitate, responding, "Right this way, sir."
    Shrek followed the mouthy robot through the locker room as he tightened the towel around his waist. He looked around as he walked, searching for any signs of the woman who beat him in the tournament. He’d have liked to give her a piece of his mind before leaving. If she were unarmed of course…
    Other competitors sat around tending to their wounds, some by themselves and others with aid from robots. A young girl was bandaging herself up in a corner alone. Apparently she had refused the complementary medical service.
    A man with considerably broad shoulders stood in his own corner with two tournament officials. He held a straight posture despite the evidence of pain he must have been in. His clothes were torn in places and he had a few burns on the bare skin that Shrek could see. He remembered this guy had gone up against a kid that could control monsters. He’d lost quickly in that match and he didn’t look happy about it. At least he was saying as much to the officials standing in front of him.
    “Creatures should not be allowed in battle. What honor is there having pets do your fighting? Tell me!” 
    But that wasn’t any of Shrek’s business.
    He continued out the locker room, following the droid until he reached the arena clerk to be paid for his participation.
     
    ***
     
    Wrapping up her arm, Vin watched the green ogre leave the locker room following behind a short robot doctor. She recalled declining to speak with the weird thing when it offered to give her medical aid.
    Vin was more than capable of taking care of herself.
    That said, Vin’s bell was still rung. The dizziness she felt was gone, replaced by a headache just behind her eyelids. Her vision became spotted as she finished wrapping her last wound.
    Her fight with, what was his name? Spider-Man? He’d sounded like a joke, but the kid wasn’t messing around. She was still gauging his strength in the ring when he surprised her with some kind of electric shock. It dropped her guard and left her open. Spider-Man webbed her to the wall and that was it.
    She kept playing the fight over in her head, thinking about every mistake she’d made. Her stupid mistakes costed her and now she’d have to return home with nothing. 
    She rested her head on the steel lockers, hoping the cool metal would soothe her head.
    What am I going to tell Elend? ‘Sorry, I didn’t win so our world is doomed?’
    She still couldn’t recall how she’d gotten to the tournament, but she remembered agreeing to it. With what they were promising her, she couldn’t turn it down. 
    Thinking about it made her head hurt worse. She focused on the pewter still in her system, burning just enough to weaken the drum in her head. Better to leave some in case she needed it.
    She considered burning more when the other contestant in the locker room started yelling again, “Clearly, you don’t make the decisions around here. I have no need for you!”
    Vin had ignored his outbursts earlier, but now he seemed like he was done arguing. The man gripped the organizers in each hand and threw them into the far wall, cracking stone.
    She could hear their bones snap.
    Vin, taking mental stock of her metals, observed the man now floating in the air. She heard the organizers call him M. Bison before he decided to smash their heads in.
    Bison’s pupiless eyes found hers, sending a chill down her back. “Ah, Venture was it? Tell me, did I scare you just now?”
    Vin couldn’t explain it, but she could feel his power. His purple aura surrounded him as it drew further out into the locker room. He landed on his feet again and approached her slowly.
    “No.” Vin burned her bronze to see if the power she felt from him was allomancy, but no result. Bison wasn’t an allomancer. He was something else.
    “You certainly seem the contrary. I will make you an offer. You have talent for someone so young,” Bison said, raising his hand to her. “Join me. I have plans to claim this arena for myself. You could stand by my side.”
    “You do realize they’re going to send security? I think they can handle you.”
    Bison’s grin turned into a frown. “But what about you? Can you really afford to deny me?”
    Vin braced herself, but just as Bison took another step, the locker room door opened.
     
    ***
     
    Shrek felt exposed as he loomed over the female clerk’s window. She was small, even for human standards, and staring intently at her computer.
    “Hello,” he said, “So, question. How do I get home? I don’t remember how I got here.” He had tried to ask the droid the same question before it scampered off, but he couldn’t get a word in edgewise with it droning on about regulations and the history of this place.
    The clerk giggled at his question, but didn’t look up from her computer screen. Shrek almost thought it was cute. But it made him miss his wife, Fiona, back home. And that’s where he wanted to be.
    “Look, I got places to be, lady.” 
    “It's best not to ask too many questions, Mr. Shrek,” she said. “The GCGBT Arena likes to keep its secrets, ya know? We don’t even fully understand how it works.”
    “It’s just Shrek. Mr. Shrek was my father,” he corrected her. “And what do you mean it has secrets? It’s a building.”
    “I’m not at liberty to say, sir. I’m just told to respect the building and keep my badge on at all times.”
    Shrek read her badge.
    Julie Dressa. GCGBTA Clerk.
    Nothing unusual about that. But hadn’t he heard that name before? Had the droid told him? He looked up and down the hallway and realized he was having a hard time recognizing anything he saw. The hall was littered with items that he knew, but the names escaped him. 
    The clerk cleared her throat. She was smiling up at him and holding out a slip of paper. “Here’s your check. It’ll auto-deposit into your world’s currency when you get home.”
    “Home… right. But how do I--”
    “Follow the blue arrows until you reach a transfer box.” She pointed left down a curved corridor. “Anyway, just step inside and you’ll be home. You won’t remember how you got there, so expect some significant confusion. Your body will be altered to its original state. I’d advise taking it easy for the next twenty-four hours.”
    Okay, now she was starting to sound like the droid.
    Shrek took the check but hesitated. “And… if I don’t? What will happen?”
    “Just take it easy, sir. The body can only endure so much trauma, ya know? The effects of the transfer box linger, so you’re going to be uncomfortable for a spell.”
    Shrek forced a smile back and followed the blue arrows, hoping he could walk off the chill down his spine.
    After a few minutes, he finally saw what the clerk had described, a booth with a curtain drawn on each side. The dead giveaway was the large print reading ‘Transfer Box’. Shrek drew back the curtain and squeezed inside.
    He really didn’t know what to do after that. Shrek had never been in a booth because he’d never found one big enough. This one fit surprisingly well, he realized.
    Inside the booth, the walls were covered with safety tips, most of which Shrek ignored. At the bottom of the long list were two buttons.
    A blue button that read ‘Home’.
    A red button that read ‘Verse City’.
    “Well, that really narrows it down,” Shrek said. He went to press the home button, but a loud sound thudded outside the booth. He peeked his head out and noticed he was next to the doors of the locker room he’d left earlier.
    Strange, he thought. He had walked quite a ways from where he started.
    Looking at the locker room, Shrek remembered he was only wearing a towel and bandages.
    His shirt had been riddled with bullet holes and blood, so he had tossed it. His pants and boots were fine, but he had forgotten them after taking the shower they recommended. The droid said it wasn’t because of his ‘odor’, but for the healing properties the water had.
    Yeah, right.
    It was best to go back for his things. He could grab them quickly and satisfy his curiosity about the sound at the same time. He was sure he could find his way back to the booth anyway.
     
    ***
    Vin braced herself, but just as Bison took another step, the locker room door opened. The green ogre entered gingerly despite his size, but froze when she and Bison noticed him.
    He met her eyes first, then saw the two figures crumbled on the floor.
    “Sorry, just came back for--” the ogre started to say, but was cut off as Bison’s purple aura flung him into the adjacent lockers.
    Vin rushed to help him, but her heavy feet wouldn’t move. This was the second time she’d been surprised today.
    Bison seemed pleased with himself, the edges of his mouth creasing into a grin. “What were you saying about security?”
    Vin threw her bag at her side, metal coins scattering the air between herself and Bison. She burned steel, hurtling coins towards him.
    ____________________________________
  9. SSJRuss
    Part 2
    --In the locker room of the Grand Cross-Galactic Budokai Tenkaichi Arena--

    M.Bison’s grip tightened around Vin’s neck, pushing her further into the crumbled heep of a locker.
    "Game over-" blood spilled from his grin. He held his side with his other hand where Vin's coin had struck him. He wasn't sure how she could move metal, and he didn't care. She was dead.
    Vin gagged a faint breath as Bison braced himself to finish the job.
    That was until Shrek's pair of tree trunk-like arms wrapped themselves around Bison's head.
    Shrek, who'd been tossed around for the last minute and a half by Bison, finally got the upper hand and reared Bison off of Vin.
    He pulled him back a few paces, holding him with massive ogre strength. But Bison did not submit. He sent fist and elbows to Shrek's face and midsection. Little by little, his hold loosened giving Bison leverage to escape.
    In desperation, Shrek let out his ogre roar. Bison broke the hold but being so close, he absorbed much of the sound.
    "GAHHH!" M.Bison reached for his ears as they started to bleed.
    Shrek fell backwards after his roar, but used the back wall to steady himself. The struggle had exhausted him, but he wasn't about to give up. Before he could go at Bison any further, the doors of the locker room busted open.
    In quick succession, arena security separated the three of them and cuffed them with energy binders. It took five guards to stop the fight.
    ***
    "And stay out!" The security officer shouted at the trio as they were forcibly removed from the arena grounds.
    They stumbled past the open gate as it slammed shut behind them.
    "Well…" Shrek said, speaking to himself instead of the others. He was trying to gather his thoughts on what just happened.
    Security had come, but the rest of it was a blur. He wasn't in any pain from the fight and his proper clothes replaced the towel that was at his waist. How'd they do that without him noticing?
    Shrek turned to others, "How 'bout lunch?" He decided it was better to just to forget the whole ordeal and make friendly.
    He could see M.Bison, in full garb and cape, walking down the street already. And the girl, Vin, took out a coin and dropped it to the ground. She suddenly sprang into the air, leaving Shrek behind.
    Now he was alone. And the city before him was massive. Bigger than anything he'd ever seen, with more lights and people than he'd ever seen. Honestly, he couldn't look away.
    There were humans and children, animals that were like people and animals like pets. Strange looking people with odd colors. And they all mingled together on the street, in shops and in vehicles.
    Shrek had the feeling he wasn't going to stand out here.
    With little choice, he decided to venture out into the city.
    Verse City, a name he read on several screens and buildings. Strange name for a place, but no stranger than that arena he supposed.
    Walking down the concrete road told him more about this place. A stack of papers being pulled from the back of a truck read, 'Verse City Gazette' with the headline, 'Pop Culture Icon Apollo Creed Runs for District Mayor!' Before he could read more, two people grabbed a newspaper each.
    "So why don't you just tell her how you feel?" said the blue skinned avian to an upright wolf companion.
    "It's not so easy, Garrus. We're not even the same species-" the upright wolf responded.
    They walked past Shrek who was eavesdropping.
    "That's the best part. Me and this woman, Terra--" the one called Garrus responded back. The rest of his words drowned out by the roar of a siren somewhere.
    This world was too stimulating.
    The growl of his stomach became another distraction. "Oh boy, really?" When was the last time he ate? At home?
    Fiona!
    Shrek searched his person for the check that the arena clerk gave him. His hands turned up empty. He must have dropped it in the locker room…
    He turned towards the arena gate, it was impossibly tall. No way he was getting back in there. But he needed a way home somehow.
    Shrek ran over to the duo with the newspaper, catching their attention with a green hand on their shoulders.
    "Excuse me, sorry. Do either of you, um, gentlemen happen to know how I can get home? I'm not from here."
    Garrus and the wolf man looked at him confused, but spoke with a casual demeanor. "No problem, most of us aren't. There are vortex points that take people to and from the city. There are access points every couple of blocks to portal you home."
    "Thank…you?" Despite his confusion, Shrek carried along in the direction Garrus pointed him.
    He walked down two streets and passed many strange buildings names until he found a corner that read 'Central Manhattan Vortex' and underneath it 'Access Point XC.52'
    He went inside only to be turned away a few minutes later. Can't use the portal without money. Shrek gave the employees a piece of his mind, but he walked away before causing too much of a scene. Last thing he wanted was a fight.
    Instead, he continued further into the city. If he can get some quick cash, he'd be back home in no time.
    Looking for options, he found two wanted signs across the street from each other.
    'Henchmen Wanted!' Tryouts Today!'
    'Hiring now for Mr. Clean's Cleaning Crew! Looking for hard working citizens!'
    Shrek met eyes with a bald white guy standing outside the cleaning crew sign. The guy, apparently called Mr. Clean, smiled and thumbed toward the inside of his shop. His eyes alone were enough to make Shrek uncomfortable.
    Shrek decided that he wanted none of that, and turned inside the door with the other wanted sign.
    "Bwah-ha!" A gutteral laugh shook Shrek as he entered.
    The room was large. Strange characters littered the place with quite a few of them unconscious on the floor. They surrounded the middle where a raised wrestling ring stood. A hulking turtle creature was alone in the ring, bellowing.
    "None of you are fit to lick my boots, much less compete against Mario!"
    "Um, hello?" Shrek said, speaking over the group. "Wondering if you would lend an ogre a favor? Need some money for that portal thing--"
    "You!" The beast in the wrestling ring leaned over the ropes, pointing directly at Shrek. "Get in here! If you want money, you gotta earn it!"
    Shrek was intimidated by this guy. It was rare he met people his size… or bigger. But to get home to Fiona, he'd have to bite the bullet.
    "Alright I'll knock ya one. And when I do, I'm heading back home. And you're paying for it!"
    Shrek shoulder bumped every guy on his way to the ring. He pulled his way up, slid through the ropes and stood toe-to-toe with the big guy. He could feel the intense heat coming from this guy's grin.
    "Kick his ass, Bowser!" Someone in the crowd said.
    Bowser chuckles. "When I knock you down, you'll be standing back up as my henchmen!"
    Shrek cracked his knuckles, "We'll be seeing about that."
    ____________________________________
  10. SSJRuss
    Part 3
    --Outside the Grand Arena, Verse City.
     
    "And stay out!" The security officer shouted at Vin, Shrek the ogre and M.Bison as they were forcibly shoved past the open gate of the arena.
    Vin wasn't happy about being pushed out of anywhere. She wanted to knock the shit out of the guard, but the gate closed behind them.
    Damn. There went her ticket back home. If it hadn’t been for Bison attacking her in the locker room, she wouldn’t be in this predicament. Vin eyed him, but he walked away without even a glance. Apparently, he’d satisfied himself with his performance and wanted nothing to do with them. The arrogance of this guy made Vin feel sick.
    "Well…" Shrek said. "How 'bout lunch?"
    Vin chose to ignore him, reaching into her coin pouch and plucked out a metal coin. She dropped it to the ground and burned steel, flinging herself into the air.
    Once high enough, she burned iron and pulled the coin back to her hand. Vin hung in the air, feeling weightless as she observed the massive city before her. She noticed signs that read 'Verse City'. An interesting name.
    It was unlike anything Vin had seen. Lights made of color and a sky that was crystal blue. The buildings were tall, even towering into the sky in places. She reminded herself she was falling and burned more steel, finding more metal below her.
    She wasn’t sure if Shrek was watching her, but she felt bad for leaving him there. He didn’t even know her but helped her in the fight with Bison.
    Speaking of him…
    She saw him walking down a street not too far away so she pushed against one of the metal buildings, sending her in his direction. She kept herself in the air, finding it easy with the overabundance of metal around.
    She could see Bison walking alone, seeming uninterested in everything around. He walked for a few blocks, eventually pausing in front of a building and walking inside. Vin had to maneuver herself to a nearby rooftop to get a view of the place. She couldn’t tell what it was or why he chose this place to enter. Out of all the shops and buildings, this one by far was the most plain.
    Why am I following this guy? Looking for another fight? Focus Vin, you need to get back on track. The thought about why she came to Verse City, why she entered the tournament, came to mind. Money.
    If she'd won the tournament, she would have money she could bring back to her world. And in turn, back to her husband Elend.
    They said that the prize money could be turned into any currency from her world. Meaning she could have solved so many of their problems back home.
    But she’d lost… And now it was time to go home empty handed.
    Vin’s plan had failed, and she knew that she should regroup. But the rebel in her hated the idea. If she could fix her world, then she’d do everything in her power to do so. Elend might scold her, but shouldn’t she at least try to bring something back from this world? When would she have an opportunity like this again?
    Vin burned steel, sending herself back into the air. She glided with careful burns of steel and iron, using the tallest buildings as anchors. The entire city was metal, making travel easier now that she didn’t need to use her coins.
    She crossed rooftops, took in what the city offered in it’s grand size. Most of the places and people she couldn’t even describe. There were metal objects zipping down the streets at incredible speeds. Some of them were in the sky. Vehicles, perhaps? Burning tin to enhance her sight, she noticed the objects were like carriages, people inside controlling them.
    Latching onto one of those with some pewter or iron, she’d have a great way to get around. Though, she likely wouldn't find anything at that speed.
    One of the vehicles came her way, flashing blue and red lights. A wailing siren followed and the piercing sound caused Vin to stop burning tin. Her head throbbed and she almost forgot to push off the building she was hurdling toward. She course corrected and continued down her path, the wailing machine following close behind.
    A male’s voice could be heard over the siren. “This is Verse City S.P.D! You are in violation of air traffic laws. Please return to the ground!”
    “Violation?” Vin replied back, realizing that the wind wouldn’t carry her voice anyway. She burned more steel instead to keep distance. Her instincts told her to always be weary and on guard, in case there were trouble. Her struggle with M.Bison reminded her of that. She wasn’t about to be caught off guard again.
    “Return to the ground, immediately!” the voice shouted.
    She burned iron and pulled herself toward the flying vehicle, twisting so she could land on top of it. But her sudden move made the metal machine turn to avoid her. Vin continued her motion and pulled on a building instead, pushing off in a different direction.
    Vin passed two blocks and the vehicle followed in pursuit. Guess they didn’t get the hint that she wasn’t going to give up. She heard the voice over the siren, but instead of listening, Vin burned steel and the tiniest bit of duralumin. Her body rocked against the metal behind her and pushed her forward. The light from the buildings became streaks as she passed them at break-neck speed. In seconds, the sound of her pursuers faded.
    Feeling that she was at a safe distance, she stopped the burn and slowed. She had plenty of duralumin to spare but---
    ZAP!
    Vin’s world went dark. Feeling only the seizing pain of electricity course through her body and the hard, cold ground beneath her.
    ***
    Her head pounded but Vin came too. She burned the pewter in her system and it dulled the pain quick and cleared her head. She got up from the ground and saw in front of her were hundreds of towers generating some sort of electric field. She must have hit it without realizing. Hard to maneuver when you burn duralumin. She needed to be more careful.
    Even with her senses dulled, she heard the footsteps behind her. Vin turned to see the vehicle hovering above her. Five masked individuals stood with weapons drawn. Each mask wore a different color, likely some rank between them.
    “Stay where you are, put your hands in the air and get on the ground. We are S.P.D. We just wanna ask you a few questions---”
    Vin burned steel and duralumin, throwing the color squad to the ground and skidded along the pavement. The push sent Vin backward, but she balanced herself quickly and poised for her next attack. They weren’t getting anything from her.
    ___________________________
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