Match 18235 Chucky (2019 Remake) vs. Achmed The Dead Terrorist

[broadwaybeyonder]

“I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS CRAP!”  Jeff Dunham looked uncomfortable as he stood in his Las Vegas hotel room.  Before him, Achmed paced back and forth across the carpeted floor as he continued his rant.  Peanut and José Jalapeño On a Stick sat on the bed trying to watch tv, while Walter and Bubba J looked on from the table.  “Seriously!  After all I’ve done for you infidels!  This is how you repay me?!”  Jeff knelt down on the floor to look Achmed in the eyes.  “Achmed, I’m sorry.  This is a private show.  They made it clear that they didn’t want your style of humor in their show.” 

“Oh, give me a break!  That’s prejudiced!  And racist!  And… and… existentialist!” 

“You moron, that’s what you are!” Walter snarked. 

“You stay out of this, you sawed off Mitch McConnell!” 

“Hey!” Jeff shouted.  “Everybody calm it down!”  Bubba took a sip of a beer.  “Aw, come on!  This is just getting’ good!” 

“Yeah!” Peanut said.  “Better than the garbage they got on tv!  Why can’t you fork over the extra moolah so we could get some Pay Per View in this dump?” 

“Fellas,” Jeff said as he struggled to keep his voice calm.  “Things have been a little rough lately financially.” 

“You’ve been singing that line ever since the divorce,” Walter said. 

“But it’s getting tighter now.  If I’m going to be able to do another tour, I need to do some of these smaller jobs to keep our heads above water.” 

“And you wouldn’t want to see José in water,” said Peanut.  “He’d probably turn into a pickle!” 

“That’s cucumbers, you idiot,” droned José. 

“Oh, what’s the freakin’ difference?!” 

“The point is!” Jeff interrupted.  “For this show, we’re going to have to do what the client wants.  They don’t want to hear jokes from a blown-up suicide bomber and that’s it!” 

“But wait a minute!” said Achmed.  “Why don’t we do the bit we did in Malaysia?  Remember?”  Achmed scampered over to suitcase and flipped it open.  He jumped inside and disappeared for a moment, before poking his head out of the suitcase, now wearing a fake mustache and beret.  “Ha ha!  Bonjour!” he proclaimed in a French accent.  “I’m the famous French terrorist Jacques Merde!  If you don’t know me, you don’t know Jack…” 

“Achmed,” Jeff said sternly.  “They know about Malaysia.  I’m sorry but there’s no way around this.  It’s just for one show.”  Achmed scowled and ripped the mustache off his face.  “Are you kidding?!  You don’t have a show without me!  What you got?  Some crotchety old guy!  A reject from Sesame Street!  A guy who probably has had intimate relations with a farm animal!  And a freakin’ Jalapeño!” 

“On a stick.” 

“Silence!” Achmed roared.  “I’ll kill you!”  Jeff sighed and opened up a second suitcase.  “I’m sorry you feel that way, Achmed, but my hands are tied.  It’s past time for us to get down to the theater.  So come on, fellas, let’s get in the suitcase.” 

“Hold on one second, Jeff fafa!”  Peanut said.  He stood up and walked across the bed to the edge.  “Achmed’s just as much a part of this team as any of us!  If he isn’t performing, than neither are we!  Right, guys?” 

“Si, Señor.” 

“Yeah, you tell ‘em, Peanut!” 

“Eh, what the hell.  I’d rather take a nap, anyway.”  Jeff gave a knowing look to the ceiling.  “You do realize that with Achmed out, all of you guys get more time in the act?”  The other puppets froze and looked at each other.  Then they all scrambled to the suitcase.  “Hey!” Achmed yelled.  “What are you idiots doing?!” 

“Sorry, Achmed, buddy,” Peanut replied.  “You know how it is the theater: show must go on and all that!” 

“That does it!” Achmed fumed as he pulled down the top of the suitcase he sat in.  “Go ahead!  Have your show!  I hope all of you get termites!  I’ll be here in my trailer!” 

“It’s a suitcase, moron!” 

“Silence!  I kill you!” 

Jeff shook his head as the lid of Achmed’s suitcase fell shut.  “Sorry, Achmed.” 

“Aw, never mind about him!” said Peanut.  “Come on!  We got a show to do!  Let’s go, let’s go, let’s goooooo!”  Jeff carefully arranged his puppets in the suitcase and walked out the door, leaving Achmed alone in his suitcase to sulk. 

After three hours, Jeff and the puppets returned, the puppets all talking excitedly about the show.  “Man, we were great out there!  We killed ‘em!” Peanut said.  “Yeah!” Bubba J chimed in.  “They laughed a lot at my jokes!” 

“Which doesn’t say much about their intelligence,” Walter said.  “Hey, Jeff!” Bubba shouted.  “Walter isn’t bein nice to me again!”  Jeff looked over his shoulder at the door.  “Earth to Jeff fafa!” Peanut said.  “DUNHAAAAAAM!  Dot cooooooom!”  Startled, Jeff looked back at his puppets.  “Sorry, guys, it’s just… it’s nothing.” 

“Man, that nothing has been bugging you all through the show!” Peanut said. 

“It’s nothing, really.  Just thought I saw something backstage.  Haven’t you ever felt like you were being watched?” 

“Oh yeah!” said Bubba.  “Every time we’re on stage!”  The other puppets looked annoyed at Bubba as Jeff looked back to the open doorway.  “Oh, will you knock it off?” Walter said.  “There’s nothing out there!”  Jeff took a step towards the doorway and peeked around the corner.  The puppets all shrugged and sat down around the room, with Peanut turning on the television.  Jeff stepped into the hall, his ears straining to hear the sound that he swore he had heard before.  Suddenly, he felt the blade slice into his ankle.  He let loose a scream. 

Walter looked at Peanut.  “Did you hear something?” 

“Nah.  Did you?” 

Bubba tapped on Achmed’s suitcase.  “Hey, Achmed!  Did you hear something?” 

“Oh, leave the prima donna in his ‘trailer’.  Hey, José!  What do you want to watch?” 

“Couldn’t we just go to bed, señor?” 

Suddenly the lights in the room started to flicker off and on, along with the television and the radio.  The puppets looked on in bewilderment as every electrical appliance in their room sprang to life, before instantly shutting off.  The puppets sat in the darkness, as a small figure appeared in the doorway. 

“Hello, everybody!” the figure said.  “Are we ready to play?” 

“What the hell is this?!” said Walter. 

“Where’s Señor Jeff?” asked José. 

The figure cocked his head.  “Jeff?  I don’t know Jeff.  My friend is Andy.  He’s my best buddy.  I’d do anything for him.” 

“And who the heck is Andy?” asked Peanut. 

“You were not nice to Andy,” the figure went on, walking further into the room and brandishing the knife.  “I saw you say mean things to him.  Make people laugh at him.  That’s not nice.  I had to take him somewhere safe, while I make sure you don’t hurt my buddy anymore.”  Walter shook his head.  “Listen, pal.  That bozo is a comedian.  He’s supposed to have people laugh at him.  And second off, his name isn’t Andy, it’s Jeff!” 

“Yeah!” said Peanut.  “Jeff fafa! DUNHAAAAAAM!  Dot caaaaaaaaaaargh!”  Peanut’s words were cut short as Chucky swung his knife and decapitated him with one strike of his knife.  The puppets’ jaws dropped as Peanut’s head rolled on the floor.  “Ohmygodohmygod!” he wailed.  “I’m hit!” 

“Every puppet for themselves!”  Walter screamed.  The hotel room was full of the cries of puppets and the sound of knife cutting through fabric. 

Achmed poked his head out from the suitcase.  “Will you infidels keep it down?!  I’m trying to take a nap in here….”  Achmed’s eyes went wide at the sight of Chucky holding a knife in one hand and Peanut’s head in the other.  “Hi there!  I’m Chucky!  Want to play a game?”  Achmed gulped, his eyes darting around the darkened hotel room.  “Er, if you’d excuse me, I think my camel’s double parked.  BYE!” 

Achmed leapt out of the suitcase as Chucky brought the blade crashing into it.  “Oh crap oh crap oh crap!”  Achmed cried as he scrambled around the room.  He collided with a chest of drawers and spun around to see Chucky tossing Peanut’s head aside and lurching towards him. 

“Señor Achmed!  Up here!  Hurry!”  Achmed looked up to see José peeking through an opening in the ceiling where a tile had been moved aside.  Turning back for a moment to see Chucky, Achmed started scrambling up the chest of drawers.  When he reached the top, he jumped to reach the end of José’s stick.  He clambered through the hole and pushed the tile back in place before Chucky could reach them.  Achmed gasped for breath.  “Thanks, José!  You saved my life!  Well, not really my life, but my afterlife, but… Oh damn it you know what I mean!” 

“Si, Señor.” 

“How’d you manage to get up here?” 

“I hop.” 

“IHOP?  You’ve been eating pancakes?” 

“No, Señor.  I hopped on my stick to get away from the crazy doll with the knife.”  Achmed raised an eyebrow.  “How’d you manage to hop all the way up here?” 

“On my stick.” 

Achmed rolled his eyes and started crawling through the ceiling space.  “Whatever.  Let’s just get the heck out of here!”  He grabbed hold of José’s stick and dragged him along.  “But ow!  What about Señor Jeff?  Ow!  And Señor Peanut?” 

“Who cares?  You really think we stand a chance against that.. whatever the hell that was?!  No way I’m letting that thing tear me apart!  We just need to find some way out of heeeeeeeere!”  Achmed cried out as the tile he crawled broke from under him. 

Bruce sat comfortably in bed reading a magazine.  His trip to Vegas had been very worthwhile.  With the crates of fireworks he had purchased, he would make a killing selling them back home.  Those bureaucrats with their regulations.  They wouldn’t stop his capitalistic spirit. 

Bruce’s reverie was interrupt with the sight of Achmed falling out of his ceiling and landing on his chest.  Bruce stared in shock at the skeleton puppet who smiled awkwardly back at him.  “Umm, helloooo!  I’m Lindsay Lohan!”  Before Bruce could comprehend what was going on, José dropped out of the ceiling stick first and landed square on his head.  Bruce’s head fell back on his pillow and Achmed was sent tumbling off the bed to the floor.  “You alright, Señor?” asked José.  Achmed glared up at the Jalapeño.  “No, you stinkin’ vegetable!  I’m not alright!  I’ve got some crazy doll trying to kill me, and all I got is a Jalapeño!”   

“On a stick.”  But Achmed wasn’t listening.  His attention had been drawn to the several crates of fireworks in the room.  He opened one of the crates, peeked inside, and began to chuckle evilly.  “Correction, José!  I’ve got a whole lot more than you!  I’ve got enough explosives here to blow that maniac back to whatever cabbage patch he crawled out of!”  Achmed raised his fist to the ceiling.  “So you go ahead and bring it, Chucky!  Cuz when I find you… I KILL YOU!” 

OK:

Chucky: This is 2019 Chucky.  He is able to control wireless and electrical devices.  Has his knife. 

Achmed: Has Bruce’s illegal fireworks.  And José Jalapeño (On a Stick). 

Winner is whoever destroys the other. 

Game On! 

[Callisto]

Learn More About
Chucky (2019 Remake)
Read more about Chucky (2019 Remake) at Wikipedia
Official Site: MGM Links: Wikipedia

Achmed The Dead Terrorist
Read more about Achmed The Dead Terrorist at Wikipedia
Official Site: Jeff Dunham Links: Wikipedia Wikia Wikia

[SSJRuss]

Talk about creative dude. This is really cool.

Interesting story that I never thought I'd read but here it is. I haven't seen this version of Chucky but I meant to when it came out, just totally flew past me. But if he's anything like before, I think he has the durability and cunning to win this fight. I see him killing Jose first, then maybe playing with Achmed before finishing it.

Also, really cool that this is the first match for either competitor. 

[Callisto]

Match Final Results

Member Ratings:
5.00 - SSJRuss
5.00 - Venom 2009

FPA Calculation:
2 Total Votes cast
10.00 Total Combined Score
10.00 / 2 = 5.00 Final Rating on the match

MATCH SCORE
Chucky (2019 Remake): 2
Achmed The Dead Terrorist: 1

[broadwaybeyonder]

THE BOTTOM LINE

The lights flickered off and on as Chucky made his way down the hotel hallway.  He had already used use control of wi-fi devices to lock the doors of the rooms, trapping the guests inside.  He’d stop at a door, used his power to open it, and see if Achmed was inside.  If there was some other unfortunate guest, he just killed them and went on to the next door.  Chucky raised his knife as he reached the door to room 348.  “Come out, come out!  It’s time to play!” he sang in his monotone voice.  The lock beeped green and the door swung open. 

WHEEEEEKRACKABOOOM!! 

A firework blasted out the doorway and slammed into Chucky.  “Ha ha!” Achmed cheered.  “How you like me now, you freaky infidel!” 

“You got him, Señor,” said José Jalapeño on a Stick. 

“Silence!  And get another firework!  Quickly!” 

Chucky peeled himself off the wall, his face partially melted by the firework.  But he landed on his feet and started making his way into the room.  “Hurry!” Achmed pleaded, furiously casting aside smaller fireworks from the crate he was looking in.  “He’s going to kill us!” 

“I’ve got one, Señor.”  Achmed saw that José was leaning against a roman candle.  “Perfect!”  Achmed grabbed José, struck his stick against the crate like a match, and held him to the fuse.  “Fire in the hole!” Achmed cried.  But just as the fuse lit, Chucky swung his knife and hit the roman candle, causing it to turn so it faced the unlucky puppets.  “Oh crap!”  Achmed and José dropped down just as the roman candle fired an explosion of flame and light that blew open the window to the hotel room.  Bruce stayed unconscious in bed. 

Achmed coughed as the smoke started to clear.  He looked up to see Chucky standing over him.  “That was a real pretty light show,” Chucky said blandly.   “But now playtime is over.”  Achmed scooched away from Chucky as he advanced on him with the knife.  “Oh no!  Please!  We could… uh… play a little more!  I was looking forward to introduce you to my friend, José Jalapeño!”  Chucky paused and tilted his head in confusion.  “José Jalapeño?” 

“ON A STICK!”  Achmed grabbed José by his stick and swung, clocking Chucky across the face.  The insane doll staggered backward as Achmed leapt to his feet, swinging José like a sword.  “Ha!  You weren’t ready for that, were you?  You want to get nuts?  Let’s get nuts!” 

“Please be careful, Señor,” José cautioned.  “Oh relax!” bragged Achmed, still swinging José by the stick.  “I got this!”  Chucky slashed with his knife and cut José in two, leaving half the jalapeño on the stick.  Achmed could only stare open mouthed as another chop of Chucky’s knife split apart the stick as well.  Achmed gulped and laughed nervously as he gazed at the remains of his friend and weapon.  “Okay.  Maybe I don’t got…” 

Chucky pounced on Achmed.  As the puppet screamed for mercy, the doll swiftly cut off Achmed’s arms and legs, leaving only his torso and head.  “Please!” Achmed begged.  “I don’t want to die!  Again!”  But a final slash of Chucky’s knife separated Achmed’s head from his body. 

A few minutes later, Chucky opened the door of a janitor’s closet, where Jeff Dunham sat in corner tied up and gagged.  The ventriloquist could only make muffled screams as the doll approached him with it’s melted face and singed clothes.  “Don’t worry, Andy.  Those mean bullies won’t make fun of you anymore.  It’s just gonna be you and me.  Buddies forever!  You are my buddy!”