SSJRuss

Yamcha steadied his breathing, his muscles taut as he kept his eyes on the blade in Michael Myers’ hand. The towering figure stepped forward, his movements slow and deliberate. Yamcha cracked his knuckles. “You’re not the first psycho I’ve faced, buddy,” Yamcha taunted, shifting into his wolf stance. “And I doubt you’ll be the last.” Michael tilted his head slightly, the expressionless mask making the gesture all the more unsettling. Without warning, he lunged, the blade slashing through the fog with a deadly swiftness. Yamcha dodged to the side, but the knife managed to hit its mark, slashing Yamcha's side. “Whoa, geez, you're fast for a big guy!" Yamcha quipped, spinning on his heel and delivering a sharp kick to Michael’s chest. The blow connected, sending the masked killer staggering back—but he didn’t fall. Yamcha clutched at his side, feeling the sting of pain from where he was cut. The wound wasn't deep, thankfully. Michael regained his footing, tilting his head again as if unfazed. Yamcha faltered for a moment. “Okay, tough guy. Let’s see how you handle this!” He charged forward, unleashing his Azure Dragon Sword onto Michael’s torso. The blade landed, gashing across Michael, forcing him to stumble back. Yamcha followed up with a powerful upward slash, knocking the knife out of his hand and taking a few fingers with it. They flew into the darkness of the fog, clattering against the pavement. Michael fell back, but remained upright. Yamcha’s aura burst forth, sending a gust of wind rippling through the mist. With the momentum going, he slammed his fist into Michael's chest, sending him crashing through a brick wall. Panting, Yamcha lowered his hands, his eyes scanning the rubble. “That should do it,” he said. As the dust settled, Michael Myers was gone, nowhere to be seen. “You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Yamcha groaned. A distant scream pierced the silence. Yamcha’s heart sank. “Puar!” he shouted, his head snapping toward the sound. His friend’s terrified cry echoed through the fog, sending a jolt of adrenaline through Yamcha’s veins. Yamcha darted into the fog, his speed leaving a gust of wind in his wake. He weaved through the streets, following Puar’s cries.. Finally, he burst into a clearing where the fog thinned just enough to reveal a horrifying scene. Michael Myers was gone—but now Jennifer was pinned to the ground by him, her screams muffled as his knife gleamed in the moonlight. Yamcha didn’t hesitate, leaping forward and striking Michael with a flying kick that sent him into the sky. Yamcha scooped Jennifer into his arms, noticing the blood staining her dress. “You’ll be okay, I’ve got you,” he said, his voice steady. Jennifer coughed, her eyes fluttering shut. Jennifer whispered weakly, "Yamcha… Puar…" "Don’t worry, I’ll find him," he promised. Yamcha bolted, his speed a blur as he raced toward the nearest sign of life. He couldn’t lose Jennifer—not now. They'd only just started dating! He found emergency responders and handed Jennifer off them. He watched them drive off, the ambulance’s siren fading into the distance before he turned back toward the thick mist, fists clenched. "I'm coming to find you, Puar!" His search didn’t take long. He returned to where Puar’s screams had come from, his worst fears were realized. There lay Puar’s small, lifeless body. His head was severed clean, lying a few feet away, his eyes still wide with fear. The fog began to lift, revealing the empty, desolate street. Yamcha fell to his knees beside his fallen friend, his hands trembling as he cradled Puar’s small body. “I’m so sorry…” Yamcha whispered, his voice breaking. Tears streamed down his face as he clenched his fists. “I’ll find the bastard who did this. I swear it.” Three days later. The Diablo Desert stretched endlessly in every direction, the wind carrying only silence. Yamcha stood solemnly over a small grave, his hands tucked into his pockets. Beside him, Jennifer rested a comforting hand on his shoulder, her usual playful demeanor replaced with a rare quiet sadness. Puar's grave was freshly dug, with a simple stone marker etched in his name. “This is where we first met,” Yamcha said quietly. “Puar and I… we promised to always have each other’s backs. A stupid promise to stick together no matter what. I failed.” Jennifer nodded, her eyes glistening with tears. “I’m sorry, Yamcha. I know how much he meant to you." Yamcha turned to her, giving the best he could do for a smile. “I’m just glad you’re okay, Jen,” he said. “I still can’t believe you’re walking around like nothing happened." Jennifer forced a small smile, brushing her hair back. "I guess I’m tougher than I look." Standing, Yamcha adjusted the sword strapped to his back, his determination returning. "I’m going to find the Dragon Balls, Jennifer," he said, his voice steady. "I’m bringing Puar back, no matter what it takes." Jennifer grabbed his hand tightly. “You’re not going without me. "I’m coming with you," she said firmly. "I’m not letting you go off alone after all this." Before Yamcha could respond, the sound of engines roared in the distance. A group of jeeps approached, kicking up clouds of sand. Yamcha tensed as the vehicles came to a stop, and a loud, cocky voice called out. "If it isn’t the old Desert Bandit himself, hanging around my turf," the voice sneered. Yamcha turned to see a figure step out of the lead jeep. He jabbed a thumb at his chest. "Name’s Bandit Keith, and I’m the king of this desert now." Yamcha sighed, his patience wearing thin. "Look, this is really not the day, pal. Just walk away." Keith smirked, tapping his duel disk. "Walk away? Nah. I think I’ll teach the old bandit a lesson. Let’s see if you’re still as tough as they say." With a flourish, he slammed two cards onto the disk. "I summon Giga-Tech Wolf and Cyber Soldier of Darkworld!" Yamcha’s expression darkened. He cracked his knuckles and stepped forward. “Alright, Keith. You want a fight? Fine. I’ve got plenty of frustration to take out, and it might as well be on you." ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Saiyan Arc Yamcha - Full Health. Four Senzu Beans. Azure Dragon Sword. Bandit Keith w/Machine Deck. His monsters are able to take form and battle (See Yugi & Kaiba Movesets from Jump Force for reference)

Yamcha Takes On The Database Tie-In Puar flitted nervously through the fog-drenched streets, his tiny paws tapping against the pavement, ears twitching at every faint sound. There were so many trick-or-treaters just moments ago, now he could barely make out anything more than a few feet ahead of him. The usual Halloween cheer was gone, replaced by an eerie silence. Things had gone from bad to worse since he'd been separated from Yamcha and Jennifer after that creepy masked guy showed up. “Yamcha? Jennifer?” he called, his voice small and hopeful, but the heavy mist swallowed his words. With a sigh, he hovered down a narrow alley, hoping it would lead him back to the main street. The fog shifted around him, making the world feel cold, quiet and scary. Wait... was that? *faint laughter in the distance* Puar froze as a small figure emerged slowly from the fog at the end of the alley. The figure looked like a child, small and round, with a burlap sack over his head and dressed in orange, pajama-like clothing. He clutched a lollipop in the shape of a pumpkin, though it had been gnawed down to a sharp, jagged edge. “Oh!” Puar’s eyes widened with relief, his voice shaking just a bit. Honestly, it was nice to finally find someone, even if it was a trick-or-treater. “Hey there! You wouldn’t happen to know where the main street is, would you? I’m looking for my friend—he’s tall, dark hair, dressed like a bandit?” The figure tilted his head, as if pondering Puar’s words, then began walking toward him, the fog consuming the sound of his steps. Puar gave a small, awkward chuckle, noticing the rough, patchwork mask and the sharp lollipop. Something felt off about this whole thing. “Um… cool costume!” he said, taking a few hesitant steps backward. “It’s... pretty spooky. Are you, um, with your parents? Maybe they could-” The figure paused, then raised his jagged lollipop slowly, tilting it in Puar’s direction as he took another step forward. Puar’s ears flattened, a nervous laugh escaping him as he drifted back a little faster. “Alright, little guy, let’s not get too close...” But the small figure suddenly lunged, his small form moving with an unexpected speed, the sharp edge of the lollipop gleaming faintly as he swung it toward Puar. Puar leapt, floating into the air and avoided the first strike. The lollipop left a slash mark on the pavement. "This child is trying to kill me!" Puar thought. "I hate Halloween, now!" The figure turned it's ragged head toward Puar, brandishing his makeshift weapon. A clear challenge. "I'm not a fighter, like Yamcha, but... if you keep making trouble, then I have no choice!" Puar shouted back, ready to shapeshift and fight for his life.

Don't think I know anyone who hasn't seen the first movie, so it is interesting to see your perspective considering I've seen the whole franchise. I'd say he doesn't have many more outlandish feats beside what you saw, so I think it matters little. Yamcha still blows him away. Though I love the idea of Myers getting a few stabs/slashes in.

I'll be honest, I barely remember the Jennifer's Body movie so I couldn't accurately size her up, but I think she could do some serious damage to Myers, at least knock him off his feet. This Myers is more brutal than OG, so that is probably in his favor.

I mean, Myers is hard to kill sure, but I agree that Yamcha takes him easy. Really, Yamcha could move so fast that Myers wouldn't even be able to see him beat his ass.

I'm so glad you agree, because I was jazzed when I thought of it!

Yamcha Takes On The Database Tie-In Jennifer walked alone down the dim lit road, her heels clicking against the pavement. The empty streets were strange—usually the Fiction End was a busy neighborhood, especially on Halloween night. Now with each step she took, the quiet only grew, the city fading into an unsettling silence as the streetlights blinked out one by one. “Yamcha?” she called, her voice echoing. “Puar? This isn’t funny, you know!” The only response was her own voice bouncing back from the darkened buildings around her. Jennifer clenched her fists, her vampire nails digging into her palms. “I swear, this was supposed to be my night. He was going to be my Halloween treat,” she muttered, lips curling into a disappointed pout. “He would’ve been perfect.” She continued forward, feeling the chill creeping in as the shadows grew around her. All the little touches she’d planned—the look of sweet terror on Yamcha’s face, his handsome heroics gone to waste. The anticipation of that rush, that satisfying hunger when the lights would go out and he’d— A scuff sounded from behind her, cutting her thoughts short. Jennifer whipped her head around, eyes narrowing as she strained to see through the darkness. She wasn’t alone. “Yamcha?” she called, a hint of flirtation in her tone. “Finally decided to come back, huh?” The figure emerged slowly, revealing himself under a single flickering streetlamp. This wasn’t Yamcha. Standing before her was another Michael Myers, though different from the man Yamcha had encountered. He was taller, broader, his face masked with a rougher, more worn version of that bone-white mask. This Myers felt more... raw. Jennifer tilted her head, feeling a mix of fascination and irritation. “A little cliché' don't you think?” She folded her arms. “Attacking a lone woman on Halloween Night?" Michael tilted his head, an eerie mirror of her own gesture, and raised his knife in a slow, menacing way. “Oh, you think you’re going to scare me?” Jennifer’s grin widened, a showing a hint of her dangerous eyes. “Guess again, big boy. I play rough.” She took a step back, slipping deeper into the shadows. Her demonic form stirred beneath her skin, clawing its way to the surface, ready to unleash the full extent of her power on this unstoppable force. It would be bad if Yamcha or Puar were to show up now, seeing her in true form like this. She'd lose out on prey, but she supposed taking a bite out of this horror icon would plenty filling for the night. “Come on, then,” she whispered, a wicked smile on her lips as she beckoned him closer with a single index finger. “Show me that big knife of yours.” With a sudden burst of speed, Myers lunged forward, his knife slicing through the darkness toward her, aiming for a brutal kill. Jennifer’s body reacted in a blurred motion; she twisted effortlessly out of his reach, a mocking laugh escaping her as she dodged. "Fast for a big guy, but you're going to have to do better than that," She reached out, her fingers brushing against his chest, just enough to taunt him, before she leapt back, circling him with a predator’s grin. “I can do this all night.”

I really want to see Psycho Goreman!

Yamcha sprang forward, launching himself toward Dr. Eggman and his massive machine. Eggman grinned wickedly, and the Egg Yamcha Eradicator's arm swung out to meet him, knocking Yamcha back mid-air with surprising force. Yamcha barely caught himself, flipping mid-air to land back on his feet. "Did you think you could just rush in and take me down?!” Eggman taunted from inside his mech, the dome glowing with a sinister red hue. With a quick flick of his controls, Eggman fired a barrage of rockets from the mech’s shoulder cannons. Yamcha dove to the side, narrowly dodging as the rockets exploded behind him. By the time Yamcha made it to the other side of the room, Eggaman followed up his attack with laser beams, forcing him to zigzag through the warehouse. Each beam ripped through chunks of metal off the walls and filling the air with smoke and fire. Yamcha could feel the heat of each shot grazing him. He was fast, but Eggman's mech showed it could match him move for move. “Gonna have to do better than that!” Yamcha shouted, closing the distance once again and leaping up to strike at the mech’s armored chest. His fists hit hard with one of the mech's legs, but the metal barely dented. Eggman cackled and swung his arm low, colliding with Yamcha and sent him crashing into the far wall. Not letting him rest, Eggman followed up with another wave of rockets. The ground around Yamcha exploded. He avoided the worst of the blast, but with the wind knocked out of him, he wasn't fast enough to avoid it the attack. Smoke and fire bellowed through the warehouse. "Come on, Yamcha!" Eggman’s taunting voice boomed. "Didn’t think you’d hide from little old me!" Yamcha heard a hum as the mech’s scanners detected his energy signature through the smoke. Gotta be smarter, Yamcha thought, a plan forming in his mind. As the mech’s red scanners zeroed in on his energy, he smirked, generating an afterimage just as Eggman fired another laser beam. The beam cut through the haze and Yamcha's afterimage, Eggman shouting in surprise. “What the—?” With the brief distraction, Yamcha appeared off to the side and launched a Spirit Ball at the mech, steering it right toward the cockpit dome. The glowing orb hit the transparent shield around Eggman’s seat, sparking as it collided, but the dome held firm. Eggman’s grin returned. “Nice try, but you’ll need more than that to break through my defenses!” Yamcha raised his hand, smirking. “Don’t count me out yet.” With a flick of his fingers, another Spirit Ball from behind the mech rammed into the dome, joining the first in hammering down against the cockpit. The two Spirit Balls pressed harder and harder, their energy thrashing against the dome as cracks began to spread across its surface. Eggman felt a pit in his stomach form. “No!” Eggman shouted in anger. “I’ve come too far to let you—activate overshield!” A burst of red energy radiated from the mech, deflecting both Spirit Balls and dissipating them in the thickening smoke. The energy pulsed through the warehouse, then faded. When the smoke settled, Eggman’s laughter echoed through the room. “That’s the best you’ve got? Face it, Yamcha—you’re outclassed!” "KAME-" Eggman's dome lit up with a sudden energy reading. It was coming from— above! Yamcha hovered in the air above the mech, hands clasped around the spark of his final attack. "HAME-" “Eat this. HA!” Yamcha shouted, firing the Kamehameha down at full force. The blast smashed through the dome, shattering it entirely and splitting the mech in two. A powerful explosion followed, with metal parts and circuits and fire flying from the area. Eggman screams died by the sound of the mech erupting into flames. Yamcha hit the ground, breathing heavily as the fire and smoke filled the wreckage. “Another... win for Yamcha,” he rose his a fist in victory before staggering, drained of energy. Through the haze, he heard a familiar voice. “Yamcha!” It sound like Puar... “Just... need a second.” Yamcha sank to the ground, passing out as he was drained of energy. ____________________________________________________________________________ A few weeks later... Halloween night in Khazan’s bustling 'Fiction End' neighborhood was in full swing. Cobwebs hung between flickering street lamps, and jack-o'-lanterns grinned from every windowsill. Costumed crowds milled about, each figure more elaborate than the next, and Yamcha strolled through the lively scene with Puar and his hot new girlfriend, Jennifer Check, by his side. The three of them were decked out in costume, Yamcha proudly wearing his old bandit gear, a nod to his roots as a desert thief. Jennifer rocked a dark and glamorous vampire queen look—high collar, velvet dress, and blood-red lipstick that gave her an air of dangerous allure. Puar had gone for the classic: a cute, oversized pumpkin suit that nearly swallowed up his tiny floating form. Since his battle with Eggman, Yamcha had recovered thanks to Puar’s quick thinking and a Senzu Bean. That whole ordeal won him two victories, which definitely gave him a boost in confidence. His win-loss ratio was in a better spot, but he had to admit that it was still embarrassing. Dr. Eggman nearly had him. "Yamcha, are you okay?" Jennifer asked, giving him a concerned glance. "You stopped talking." "Yeah," he replied, though he glanced at his hands, brow furrowed. "Just… thinking I need to get back into training. Pick up a few new moves." “More moves?” Puar piped up, grinning. “Come on, you already know the coolest ones!” Jennifer laughed, leaning into him playfully. “You know, it was your moves that made me notice you, Yamcha. I saw your fight with Drakkon and thought it was impressive how you refused to quit. I think you're overthinking again. Besides-" Jennifer took Yamcha's hand in hers, "-you already got the girl." Yamcha blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Oh, well, you know, I just want be stay in shape for you, baby," he chuckled, trying to sound casual. Jennifer smiled as they continued their walk. As the night drew on, the crowd around them grew thinner, the once-bustling streets became strangely quiet. Shadows stretched longer, swallowing the alleyways, and a chill seeped into the air. “Uh…guys?” Puar hovered nervously. “Where is everyone?” Yamcha was about to comment, when a dark figure appeared at the edge of a streetlamp’s glow. A tall man in a mechanic’s jumpsuit and a bone-white mask. Michael Myers. “Oh no, no way,” Yamcha murmured, turning back. “Uh, guys... let’s... maybe let’s head this way.” "This way!” Jennifer called, walking swiftly to a better lit street nearby. They followed her, but when they reached the next corner, she was gone. “Jennifer?” Yamcha called, looking around. “Where did she…?” The street lights turned off in unison. Puar and Jennifer were nowhere in sight. Alone, Yamcha found himself face to face with the dark. The only light was of the Halloween moon. Yamcha tried to calm the panic in his chest and feel for energy around him. Yamcha’s fists clenched again, steeling himself as he could make out the shimmer of Myers' blade just ahead. “Alright, freak,” Yamcha said, settling into his stance, a grin spreading on his face, “you’re about to get a taste of the Wolf!” ____________________________________________________________________________ Saiyan Arc Yamcha w/Azure Dragon Sword. No Senzu. 100% Health Prime Michael Myers (Green Timeline)

Glad everyone liked it. I'm almost surprised Yamcha won, as Eggman definitely has the tools to put him down if given the resources. He does have a mech, so I imagine he'd have the better odds. But I guess Eggman isn't always as careful as he should be or just overconfident.

The first Bomberman lunged forward, launching a bomb directly at Yamcha. Yamcha could read his moves and dodged to the side, the explosive grazing his arm as it whizzed past. He grimaced. Judging from the heat that bomb gave off, a few of those would fry him. No time to dwell on it. He retaliated with a swift kick that connected with the Bomberman’s helmet, sending him crashing through the wall. Before Yamcha could turn, another Bomberman was on him, throwing a bomb that exploded at his feet. Yamcha leapt backward, barely avoiding the blast, but the force of the explosion sent him stumbling into the third Bomberman, who was ready with another bomb. Yamcha bounced off the ground, up and above the enemy and landing behind him. "Don't think so, chump," Yamcha said, drawing in his ki and unleashing a Wolf-Fang Fist against the unprepared Bomberman. Two down. As soon as the Bomberman dropped, the other two charged him. Yamcha dropped low, sweeping his leg across the floor in a wide arc. His foot connected with one of the Bomberman’s ankles, knocking him off balance. The instant the Bomberman hit the ground, Yamcha was on him, driving his fist into the exposed circuitry in the neck of the suit. Sparks flew as the suit malfunctioned, the red glow in the visor dimming to nothing. Three down. Yamcha threw himself aside, as the last remaining Bomberman fired a barrage of bombs that filled the corridor. The first two bombs missed, but the tight corridor didn't leave Yamcha much room. Yamcha's instincts screamed at him to move, so he dashed back and around the corner, out of sight. The following corridor filled with smoke from the bombardment, but that was just what Yamcha wanted. As he felt the Bomberman approach, Yamcha formed a Spirit Ball in his hand. Once in sight, Yamcha directed the ball with pinpoint accuracy at the Bomberman, striking him dead in the chest. The energy collided with the circuitry of the suit, and immediately exploded. And that makes four. "They're really going to have to do better than that," Yamcha gave a victory cry. He had done it. He had faced the challenge, and he had won. One absolute win that no-one could take away. Yamcha stood strong, but then felt that strange presence again, stronger than ever. It was still calling to him, meaning it wasn't these chumps. There was still something—or someone—waiting for him. He pressed forward, following deeper into maze until it opened wider and wider, resembling more like a warehouse more and more. Faint electrical buzzing filled the air, along with the occasional clank of metal shifting in the distance. At the end of the corridor, Yamcha came upon a large, reinforced steel door. The energy he had been sensing all along pulsed behind it, almost like a heartbeat. His instincts screamed at him to be ready. It was also telling him to run. "Come on, Yamcha, where is your nerve?" he asked himself. "Let's make an entrance." He took a deep breath, raised his hand, and blasted the door open with a burst of ki. The metal crumbled under his energy, and Yamcha stepped through the threshold, only to find himself standing in a vast, high-tech laboratory. The room was filled with towering machines and computer consoles that blinked with red and yellow lights. Strange robotic arms hung from the ceiling. And in the center of it all stood a figure—round, with a wild mustache, clad in a red coat with black gloves and boots. He was bent over a large console, typing furiously before turning around to face Yamcha with a wicked grin. "Ah, Yamcha! I’ve been expecting you." Yamcha narrowed his eyes, instantly recognizing the man. "Dr. Eggman?! What the hell are you doing here?" Dr. Eggman let out a low chuckle, stepping away from the console. "Oh, you know, just a little experiment I’ve been working on. I figured after so many years of chasing that insufferable hedgehog, it was time for a change of pace. After all, what's easier than defeating a super-speed hedgehog?" Yamcha clenched his fists, his muscles tensing. "I don't know, what?" "A Yamcha," Eggman finished with a sinister laugh, that finished in a tone of arrogant chuckles. "You see, I’ve devised a little invention that taps into your energy signature. While you were busy playing with my Bombermen, I was working on drawing your power into my latest machine. Soon, I’ll have more than enough energy to—" "Cut the crap!" Yamcha interrupted, his patience wearing thin. "If you think I'm going to let you use me for whatever twisted plan you’ve got, you’ve got another thing coming! Besides, you are just some big loser anyway, I bet your win-lose ratio is in the dumpster." Dr. Eggman cackled, throwing his arms up dramatically. "Oh, it is far better than yours! Now, to show you your better." With a snap of his fingers, a large metal platform rose from the floor behind him, revealing a hulking robot—a towering mechanical monstrosity outfitted with lasers, drills, and glowing energy cores. The platform whirred to life, and the robot's eyes glowed a menacing red. "Meet the Egg Yamcha Eradicator," Eggman said, his grin widening. "It’s custom-built to counter your every move!" Yamcha took his signature fighting stance, his eyes fixed on the machine. "Let’s see if it’s built to survive the beating of a Wolf-Fang Fist!" _______________________________________________________________________ Saiyan Arc Yamcha - 75% health. No senzu beans. Base Video Game Dr. Eggman

Back from vacation and into the swing of things. Just seeing this but I'll put a few down. The Chosen One https://cbub.comicbookuniversebattles.com/cbub/cbubcats/character/11725/The Chosen One Grail https://cbub.comicbookuniversebattles.com/cbub/cbubcats/character/10760/Grail Yuan-Ti https://cbub.comicbookuniversebattles.com/cbub/cbubcats/character/10627/Yuan-Ti Amon https://cbub.comicbookuniversebattles.com/cbub/cbubcats/character/8549/Amon Chief Wiggum https://cbub.comicbookuniversebattles.com/cbub/cbubcats/character/5027/Chief Wiggum Yog-Sothoth https://cbub.comicbookuniversebattles.com/cbub/cbubcats/character/7762/Yog-Sothoth

Bane, Malgus, and Revan!? Sorry New Warriors but you're deep fried.

😂 Glad you could catch it. I have had the itch lately to post more of this story, so be on the lookout.

Cubix feels like one of those fever-dream shows. I remember the show somewhat, but what I remember most was renting the PS2 game from Blockbuster. I played it for a minute but got bored with it. Wasn't my kind of game, I think. I think you are right. Cubix, under the right circumstances, would beat ED 209. Cubix is much more versatile than ED 209, which I think will give him the edge to allow the Stooges to escape.

The Loser’s Club Part 12 Previously - Part 5 Part 7 Part 11 -- Inside Henchmen Tryouts Gym, Verse City. The dim, cavernous hideout that Bowser had chosen for his latest operation was a far cry from his former lair. But you couldn’t beat real estate in Verse City. After dealing with that Ogre fellow, Bowser was able to get things back on track. His recruits—both old and new—were assembled, their faces illuminated by the harsh, flickering fluorescent lights in the gym hideout. “Listen up!” Bowser growled, pacing back and forth. “Now that I’ve collected the best of the best, it is time to tell you why you are here.” There were murmurs among the recruits as they sized each other up. “We’re going to break into the Verse City Prison,” Bowser announced. “There is someone we’re busting out. Someone who can guarantee me my ultimate prize which has been denied me for so long—the Smash Championship!” Bowser continued, “But first, I need to make sure you’re all up to the task. You’re about to become more powerful than you’ve ever been, thanks to a little deal I made.” On cue, a figure emerged from the shadows. The man was large and the fact that he could move at all came as a surprise to most. “This is Polpo,” Bowser said with a flourish of laughter. Polpo, the enigmatic mobster, wore an oily smile revealing rows of yellowed teeth. Polpo was an unsettling sight, a horror of a man. “Lord Bowser, it’s a pleasure doing business with you,” Polpo said, his voice slick with insincerity. “How is this large… gentleman… supposed to help us?” King Koopa wasn’t overly shy at speaking his mind. He may be considered a minion to Bowser right now, but where he comes from, he was a king. Bowser met King Koopa’s wary eyes, then turned to Polpo. “Let’s not waste time, shall we?” “Of course,” Polpo breathed heavily. “Let’s see who among your minions is worthy of the power of a Stand.” The group before them looked around in confusion. What they could not see was Polpo’s Stand had accompanied him to this meeting. Black Sabbath. The shadowy, humanoid figure loomed behind Polpo, then moved toward the recruits. Its invisible presence sent shivers down the spines of them all. Polpo snapped his fingers, and Black Sabbath, one by one, sized up the recruits. In moments, it decided who was worthy, then struck them with arrows. First up was King Koopa, Bowser’s lieutenant. An arrow ripped through his shoulder and he screamed in agony and surprise. He fell to his knees, only to feel a powerful surge rise through him in that instant. A moment later, his shoulder was unharmed and his Stand materialized—a spectral, vampiric entity that pulsed with dark energy. King Koopa smirked with understanding, as he could now see Black Sabbath next to his own Stand, Vampire Money. A Stand that could establish a blood link with someone or something, allowing him to track them or share their powers. Next was Hippo, who took an arrow in his massive gut. He, too, was unharmed as he manifested a Stand. Hippo’s Stand had the ability of impossible speed. If an enemy was within his range, Hippo could be in front of them or behind them in an instant. He has complete movement within the range of a circle. A Perfect Circle. No one would be able to escape his wrath now. Erron Black and Mr. Frosty was next to follow. Erron’s Stand manifested as Paint It Black, giving him the ability to stretch his body and emit an odor not too dissimilar to black licorice. Mr. Frosty, on the other hand, had a very different Stand. His, Mariah Carey, countered inertia. Any force applied to him would be nullified instantly, allowing him to maneuver with unprecedented speed and agility. He was practically invincible now. All that remained were three: Giran, Kamek, and the gangster Hammerhead. Black Sabbath judged Giran and Kamek unworthy of a Stand and so did not pierce them. Hammerhead, however, received an arrow to the neck. Unfortunately, his arrow was fatal. His body convulsed violently before collapsing to the ground, lifeless. The other minions made no motion of concern. Not everyone was destined for greatness. Bowser grinned, satisfied with the results. “You see, I knew this was a good lot. Well done, Polpo.” “I advise you to use them wisely, Lord Bowser,” Polpo responded. “Even Stand-users are not immortal. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I am needed elsewhere now that our arrangement has been settled.” “Of course, I’d hate to keep you. Tell your masters I appreciate the loan.” The shadows in the gym grew darker as Polpo exited. Bowser turned his attention back to his newly enhanced recruits, his fist raised in anticipated victory. “Now that you’ve got your fancy new Stands, it’s time to put them to use. We’re hitting the Verse City Prison, and we’re not leaving without our target. But before we get to that, there’s the matter of how we’re going to get in. The prison’s security is tight—no way in unless you’ve got clearance. Which is why we’re going to take down one of the Power Ranger squads that think they run the city. You jump them, take their gear, then we waltz right through the front door.” Erron Black’s eyes narrowed, his fingers twitching over the grip of his revolver. “Heh, sounds like fun. I’ve always wanted to put one of those goody-two-shoes Rangers in the ground.” The minions sounded in agreement as a panicked Koopa Troopa ran into the room. “Lord Bowser! I have bad news from the Mushroom Kingdom!” Bowser growled, turning to the Koopa. “What is it? This better be important!” The Koopa hesitated, then blurted out, “Bowser Jr. has been defeated by Shrek and that strange human Ernest!!! We don’t know what to do!” Bowser’s eyes flared with anger at the Koopa. “My son, defeated? This is unexceptable!” Bowser slammed his fist into a nearby column, smashing the column completely. The Koopa cowered, “I’m so sorry, my Lord.” Bowser seethed with rage, but calmed himself after a moment. He relaxed his shoulders then turned back to this minions. “No matter. Shrek and that idiot Ernest won’t make it out of there alive. There are enough monsters and traps in the Mushroom Kingdom to deal with them. We focus on my goal for now. Then… I’ll get my revenge.” He narrowed his eyes back to the Koopa, “Which has reminded me that those fools Team Rocket are to blame for this. If they hadn’t failed to deliver the Pokémon shipment and killed Ernest, my son might still be alive. Yes… ” Bowser then pointed toward Mr. Frosty, “You, go with a squad of my Koopa Troopa and find Team Rocket. Kill them slowly, then bring me their heads. After you’ve done that, I want you to do the same to Shrek and any friends he makes down in the Mushroom Kingdom. You have full access to my weapons and armies while you're there so use them as you will. Just, do not fail me.” Mr. Frosty tilted his hat in acknowledgment, then followed the Koopa Troopa out the door. ____________________________________________________________________________________________ --Back in the alleyway outside the Grand Arena, Verse City. Moe's heart raced as he floored the gas pedal, the Trash truck lurched forward and spun out of the alleyway. With a sickening crunch, Meat's face burst through the window, his grotesque features illuminated by the dashboard lights. "YAHOO!" Curly shrieked, ducking down in his seat as Moe swerved the truck wildly, trying to shake the flesh creature loose from the driver’s side door. Larry grabbed the nearest object he could find—a discarded banana peel—and hurled it at the monster’s face, hoping to distract him or make him slip. Curly saw this and started to do the same with whatever he could find. Half of the objects hit Moe instead. “Would you two knock it off, I’m trying to drive!” The monster’s bloody hands clawed at the interior of the truck as he snarled and growled. Moe's mind raced as he fought to keep control of the speeding truck. Cars and other vehicles swerved around him as the truck raced through the streets of Verse City, eventually making it onto the freeway. No matter how much Moe twisted the wheel, the monster wouldn’t be shaken off. Once the objects stopped being thrown, he hatched a plan. "Hold on tight, boys!" Moe shouted, his voice tinged with desperation as he veered the truck toward the nearest exit ramp. The tires screeched as they hit the pavement, sending the truck careening off the freeway, narrowly avoiding collisions as they raced through the crowded streets. It was all the other two could do but scream in terror. As they approached the alley, Moe jerked the wheel hard to the left and sent the truck into another alleyway. The sides of the truck scraped against the buildings, sending sparks flying as they squeezed through the impossibly tight space. And then, with a final lurch, they burst out of the other side of the alley, leaving a bloody skid-mark on the walls behind. The creature grinded into a puddle. The three stooges breathed a collective sigh of relief. “We did it!” The stooges collectively shouted, ready to breathe a sigh of relief. “Oh boy, Moe look out!” Larry cried. Despite leaving the danger behind, the truck was still gassed, dashing into a nearby fence. Moe pressed the break as they skidded to a stop in the Verse City Junkyard. The trash truck's abrupt stop sent the three stooges lurching forward, their heads colliding painfully in unison. "Ow! Watch it, Moe!" Curly rubbed his forehead, wincing. Moe shot them both a glare. "You numbskulls! Now, thanks to you, we're in a whole heap of trouble!" The stooges peered out of the cracked windshield at the sprawling junkyard. Piles of rusted cars, discarded appliances, and forgotten things created a labyrinth of metal and debris. It was quiet, save for the sirens echoing behind them. Larry squirmed in his seat. "Uh, Moe, I think the police might be on their way?" "Oh, so you think now, huh! Of course they are!" Moe barked. "We gotta scram before they get here!" Without another word, the three stooges tumbled out of the truck and dashed into the maze of the junkyard. “Where are we going?” Larry asked. “We gotta lay low, boys. Best place to do that is here,” Moe said as the lead the way. As they ducked behind a particularly large pile of crushed cars, Curly's eyes widened as he spotted something moving in the shadows. "Hey, Moe, what’s that?" Moe stopped and squinted through the darkness. “I don’t see anything.” Then a terrifying robotic foot stepped behind them. The trio turned slowly to see a hulking ED-209, its weapons aimed at them. "Halt! You have ten seconds to comply." "Oh no, we're toast!" Larry whispered in panic. "Five seconds to comply." “Run!” Moe yelled. The bolted, dodging between the piles of junk as the ED-209's weapons came to life, spraying bullets across the yard. They zigzagged through the debris, barely avoiding the incoming fire. As they rounded a corner, Curly tripped over something and landed face-first into a heap of scrap. He looked up and saw the defunct-looking robot lying half-buried in the junk. "Moe, Larry, look! Maybe this thing can help us! You know, like rock’em sock’em." Curly called out, frantically shaking the robot. Moe and Larry skidded to a halt and stared at the robot in disbelief. "What are you, crazy? That thing’s busted!" Moe snapped. "Can’t hurt to try, Moe," Larry argued, slapping the robot on the side in a desperate attempt to wake it up. The ED-209’s footsteps grew louder as it closed in on their position. Moe bit his lip, then finally nodded. "Alright, you bucket of bolts, wake up already!" Curly gave the robot another whack, and with a sputter and a flicker of lights, Cubix's eyes snapped open. "Greetings, I’m Cubix!" the robot’s cheerful voice said, as it slowly powered up. The stooges’ faces lit up with hope. The ED-209 rounded the corner, its weapons trained on the group. "You now have three seconds to comply." "Okay then, Cubix, go stop that thing. That robot over there is trying to turn us into Swiss cheese!" Moe shouted, pointing at the ED-209. Cubix’s eyes flashed as it processed the situation, then its body stood shakenly, debris falling from its body. "Get behind me!" Cubix instructed, raising a flickering energy shield to protect them. The stooges ducked behind the robot as the ED-209 continued its relentless assault. __________________________________________________________________ Cubix vs. A Single Ed-209. Cubix must protect the stooges and either destroy Ed or get away successfully, to win the match.

Glad you're enjoying it, dude. Yamcha is a fun character to explore with this concept.

I think Boris gets the win here. I don't think Fenn is actually that impressive compared to some other Mandalorian. Also, love the use of Thrawn here. And I like the visual of Durge standing beside Juggernaut. Cool image.

All good. Glad for the comment and support, regardless. Been wanting to do a few matches again so I figured I'd go ahead post some fun ones that I've wanted to do for awhile. And yeah, I think on most occasions, I'd say Drakkon would win this fight. Ended in a draw, which is fine by me as I have plenty more opponents for Yamcha.

Yamcha lay in a bed at Khazan General Hospital after his fierce battle with Lord Drakkon. Despite the excellent nurses, the wound his midsection reminded him of how close he had come to losing his life. Drakkon's blade had found its mark, impaling him as a last effort to defeat Yamcha. It was with the last bit of strength that Yamcha had to counter with his Spirit Ball Attack, surprising his enemy from behind and ending their duel. More than the wounds, what stung more was the draw—a fight that ended with no clear victor, doing nothing for his record or his reputation. Puar sat on the windowsill, watching over Yamcha for the last two days. "You were amazing out there, Yamcha. I mean really. And look on the bright side, you didn't lose!" Yamcha sighed, staring at the ceiling. "Man, all that and for what, Puar? A tie? My name’s still not on the Walk of Fame. It’s like I basically accomplished nothing." Puar floated over, his eyes full of sympathy. "Don't say that, Yamcha. I think people will be really impressed you nearly defeated Drakkon. That guy is no push over." Yamcha nodded reluctantly, "I guess you have a point..." "You just need to find the right challenge," Puar continued. "Someone who you can prove yourself against." Yamcha felt his spirits rise just a little. 'I mean, if I don't get back to my feet and try again, then what good am I?" He thought to himself, letting the nurses return to finish his last healing treatment before going about his way. ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________ "What are we doing here, Yamcha? This place gives me the creeps," Puar said, protesting now that Yamcha was back on his feet and wandering the streets of Khazan just hours after leaving the hospital. Yamcha found himself wandering through the industrial district of Khazan, a place he normally wouldn’t frequent. He wasn't sure why, but he felt a presence calling to him. Something dangerous maybe. Problem was, he wasn't sure what it was he was looking for or what was causing the presence to begin with. Yamcha shrugged, his hands in his pockets. "Just… looking for something. I don’t know what yet, but I’ll know it when I see it." The area was filled with old warehouses and factories. The more they ventured, the more the area seemed abandoned. The sun was setting, with made Puar hover close. As they walked past an abandoned warehouse, Yamcha felt the strange presence coming from within. Or just underground. He was close, but it was still faint. "I think I may have found my next challenge, Puar." challenge waiting to be met. His instincts kicked in, and he stopped in his tracks, glancing at Puar. Puar took a nervous breath, "I don't think this is a good idea, Yamcha." "You're right. Stay here, I'm going to check it out." Yamcha pushed open the large, rusted door and stepped inside the dark warehouse. The interior was vast, with rows of old machinery and crates stacked haphazardly. The place smelled of dust, decay, and old oil. The sound of the door echoed through the empty space, adding to the eeriness of it all. Puar hovered anxiously just outside the door, "Yamcha, be careful in there!" Yamcha waved him off with a reassuring smile. "Relax, Puar. I’ve handled worse than this." He may have not defeated Drakkon, but he had to admit, the battle did reassure him that he wasn't just some weak human. He could handle whatever was calling out to him. The presence seemed to be coming from deep within the warehouse. Yamcha moved down the stairs and through the rows of machinery. Eventually, he found an empty elevator shaft, which he flew down, getting closer to the source. The next chamber he found himself in were more like corridors. He walked and walked, but the further he got, the more he felt like he was being watched. "This place is a maze and I'm getting nowhere," he said. Yamcha decided to blast a hole through a wall when he froze, feeling faint figures moving beyond the shadows around him. He found that he was at a cross-section. Yamcha channeled his ki to create a ball of energy, illuminating his immediate area. Yamcha’s eyes adjusted to the dim light, and he saw them: two figures standing in the corridor ahead of him. They were tall, clad in armored suits that glowed with a menacing red and yellow light. Their faces were obscured by helmets with visors that gave off an eerie, electronic hum. Yamcha could feel that presence still calling him from beyond. Whoever they were, they weren't the ones calling him. "I'm not sure who you are, but if you've come to stop me, you're going to be disappointed." Yamcha said. The two figures moved in sync, staring daggers at Yamcha. From the corridors behind him, Yamcha could feel two more opponents lurking. Yamcha tensed as one of them spoke a raspy, metallic voice, devoid of emotion. "You are not supposed to be here. Leave, or be terminated." Yamcha smirked, his confidence returning despite the odds. "If you guys think you can stop me, you’re welcome to try. I could use a good warm-up." The room buzzed with tension as the four armored figures powered up, their suits humming with energy. They moved with terrifying precision, surrounding Yamcha and cutting off any possible escape routes. Each one of them generated what looked like bombs in their hands, ready to hurl them at him. On instinct, Yamcha clenched his fists and gathered the energy he'd been holding onto, shifting it into ki blasts as he leapt into the air. His back struck the ceiling in seconds. He'd forgotten about the maze. They had him trapped and surrounded. This wasn't going to be straightforward. He bounced off the ceiling as the first wave of explosives were fired at him. Yamcha countered with a volley of energy blasts. The fight was on. ____________________________________________________________________ Saiyan Arc Yamcha - 80% health. No senzu beans. Four Bombermen - Level 2 Bombs(Quantity) , Level 2 Speed, Level 2 Fire(Damage)

Yamcha is very tough in this era and I'd consider him above a typical ranger in power scaling. Drakkon can take out multiple ranger teams so I think he might be the favor.

The love our community has for wrestling, specifically Jim Ross, makes me smile. I don't know much about Max, but Haggar is THE man. Tough as hell so I think I'm leaning his direction.

I have signed up a team.

Along the Khazan Star Walk of Fame, Yamcha walked trying to keep his spirits high as he scanned the names etched into the ground beneath him. Each star, glittering under the sun, bore the name of a famous warrior. Characters with legendary database records, win-loss ratios that are historic. None of them belonged to him. Yamcha could walk the road up and down, but he'd not see his name among them. Puar floated beside him, his large eyes filled with concern. Puar was the ever faithful companion and knew when Yamcha was upset. Even if Yamcha tried not to show it. "I'm totally the star of Khazan!" Yamcha declared, pumping his fist in front of him. Puar tried to cheer him up. "You are amazing, Yamcha. Maybe you just need the right opponent to prove it and get your name added to the Walk of Fame!" Yamcha puffed out his chest, trying to shake off his doubt. "I could beat any of these chumps, you just name 'em." Puar eyes wandered through the names until he spotted another large star. "What about him?" he suggested, pointing to the name 'Exodus.' Yamcha paused. Puar could almost hear the thick swallow Yamcha took. "Ah, well, I'm sure he'd put up a good fight. If he were here." "He’s standing right there, Yamcha," Puar pointed out. Yamcha glanced over at Exodus, who was surrounded by fans, signing chests and getting his picture taken. "He’s busy, Puar. Beating him in front of his fans would just be mean-spirited. Come on." Puar sighed, knowing better than to press the issue. As the two continued to walk, Puar searched for another potential opponent. Suddenly, he perked up. "What about her?" he asked, pointing towards a figure down the path. "Who is it this time? Whoever it is, they caught me fired up today," Yamcha looked to Puar's suggestion. He saw Bubbles from the Powerpuff Girls, her blonde pigtails bouncing as she cheerfully signed autographs. "You could take on Bubbles!" Puar said. Yamcha’s face flushed. "Bubbles? Nah, I couldn’t do that. She’s, uh," Yamcha turned, chin in hand in mock thought. "Too, you know, cute. Yeah, if I fought her, the audience would think I'm some kind of bully. Besides, who wants to see me beat up a little girl? I’d totally win, of course, but it’d be bad for my image." "Maybe you’re right, Yamcha. I'm sorry, I'm so bad at this," Puar responded. "It's not your fault, Puar. We're going to find a challenge, I know it. In fact, I'm so pumped, I think I take on all the entire database. Beat every single one of those no-name weaklings just sticking around for the fame. Yeah. Take them on like ten or twenty and before I know it, I'll have my name on this walk in no time. "Out of my way," commanded a voice from behind. Suddenly, the atmosphere changed. The air grew thick and the new presence passing Yamcha and Puar by was down right sinister. Clad in black and white armor with a dragon motif, a figure stepped past him. His visor gleamed with a sinister light. He looked powerful, if I little over dressed. Puar’s fur bristled, sensing the overwhelming energy emanating from the stranger. "Yamcha, who is that?" Yamcha’s heart pounded in his chest as he recognized the figure. It was Lord Drakkon. Infamous rogue Power Ranger who was glad to murder whoever got in his way. "Lord Drakkon," Yamcha whispered, feeling a mix of fear and excitement. If Yamcha remembered right, Drakkon hadn't been living in Khazan for a long time. And his win-loss ratio was in Yamcha's favor. Maybe... "Hey, excuse you, you big jerk. Show some respect when you pass a former guardian of Earth," Yamcha declared to Lord Drakkon, who stopped and slowly turned his visor to the duo. Darkness seemed to surrounded Drakkon in that moment. He slowly turned his head, his visor reflecting the now nervous energy crackling around Yamcha and Puar. A moment of silence stretched between them, the bustling sounds of the Walk of Fame fading into the background. Drakkon’s smirk was almost visible beneath his helmet. "Former guardian of Earth? How quaint," he said. "I’ve crushed worlds, Mr...Yamcha, Right?" Drakkon chuckled. "What do you know about respect? Please, not one person has ever respected you. Don't think you have what it takes to speak to me." He turned to continue his way, but Yamcha's anger flared. Clenching his fists, "Big words from... a loser!" Drakkon stopped in this tracks, hand on the hilt of his sword now. "What’s the matter, Drakkon?" Yamcha continued. "Can’t handle that your are just loser in this city? Afraid to tell you this buddy, but my winning streak is about to get started and you're first in line." Drakkon chuckled, the sound dripping with contempt. "You? A winning-streak? Don’t make me laugh. You’re nothing but a pathetic Goku wannabe." Drakkon turned to face Yamcha, his weapons drawn. "But if you insist on embarrassing yourself, I’ll gladly oblige." Yamcha’s pulse quickened, his mind racing. This was it—the challenge he had been looking for. Yamcha slid into his fighting stance, Puar hovering anxiously beside him. "You’ll regret underestimating me, Drakkon. I’ve got a few more skills than the rangers you're used to." Puar's eyes flicking between him and Drakkon. "Yamcha, be careful…" Drakkon raised his hand, and a pulse of dark energy crackled to life around it, the very air seeming to warp and twist under his power. "I’ll make this quick. You won’t even have time to regret your foolishness." With a roar, Yamcha charged forward, fists blazing with energy as he aimed directly for Lord Drakkon. _____________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Yamcha - Saiyan Saga Lord Drakkon - Evo 3

Friend of mine broke the news to me last night. I didn't even trust him for like a good 10 minutes because he somehow told me before I could find it on my usual news outlets. I was in a state of disbelief... Still hasn't really hit home. I wouldn't be who I am without Dragon Ball, so I owe Akira Toriyama so much. We lost a true legend. It will be nice to see Sparking Zero do something to honor him when it is released.