AIM: Pancaek Beast | E-mail: shdwdde@gmail.com | Denny's House of Pancaeks
Samus/Rikku, Tifa/Peach, Zelda/Aeris, Yuna/Chun Li, Snake/Yoshi, Sora/Mega Man, Sonic/Luigi, Crono/Auron (Points: 82/88 Matches: 49/54)
You cringe a little under Alucard's critical glare, the almighty power of the Plan oppressing you. You stand, hands folded behind your back, at military-like attention. His eyes sparkle in the sunlight like aluminum foil.
"I'm hungry," Alucard decides. "I'm going to dine."
The idea sounds brilliant to you.
"Time for some blood."
Your appetite changes. Uneasily, you give Alucard a little salute. The corners of his mouth twitch a little, hinting at a smile, or perhaps at disgust. "Care to join me?"
You back away, squirming at the reddish tinge in his eye.
"Your loss," he says, and turns into a giant bat.
Where do you begin? It feels like it's been weeks since you last ate. No one seems to ****in' acknowledge how much pain your stomach has been suffering over the last God-knows-how many days. But now... now, you aim to rectify those accursed, damned mistakes.
So you decide to make yourself a sammich.
The quest should not take you too long. Using superior knowledge of cardinal directions, you thrust out one arm and spin, accelerating until you can no longer distinguish the scenery rotating before your eyes. When you stop, the moons of Saturn are pressing hard against your dazed mind, but you shrug them off and head directly forward.
Mother****ing Donkey Kong's instincts are never wrong. In under a minute, a city appears upon the horizon, illuminated from the west by the setting sun. Caught up in the poetry of the moment, you do not consciously notice when you trample something scrawny and unattractive on your path. Indeed, normally, you wouldn't even notice her even after you ran her over, but today is somehow different.
"EEEEEK!"
The screeching Hertz knock you flat on your face. The electric jolt of pain on your nose sends a spasm through your body, flipping you onto your back. Your jaw drops open; you lie incapacitated slightly, twitching, panting. Your eyeballs, along with the rest of your muscles, flicker out of your control. From your broken vision, you see a very familiar creature rising from whence you trampled it.
Her hair color is that indescribable shade between yellow and brown, styled just how you least like it. The bare minimum of clothing encases a pale, melonin-deprived body. The general figure of it is rigid as a board and flat as your Samsung LCD monitor. And it is beginning to whine again.
"Aaaai remember yoooou!" it calls. You convulse, arms tightly clenched to your person. "You're that mean moooonkey!"
She towers over you, a blank, unreadable smile twisting her facial features. Your vision, impaired by the torture that your ears are suffering, cannot distinguish whether the expression is malicious or merely stupid.
"Are you okay?" she enunciates. The power of the voice stimulates you once again, but as fortune would have it, this time, your limbs twitch in such a way that your fist shoots out and crushes her vocal chords.
Instantly, the paralysis becomes mobility. You regain full control of your body. Every ligament aches, but you pay no heed to the comparatively minor disturbances and lactic acid buildup, as you bore into the throat-clutching slut before you.
Inexplicable pleasure courses through you; the realization that you are no longer vulnerable intoxicates you and grants you a temporary streak of unlimited sadism. Lovingly, you smash her face, breaking her jaw and ensuring that her voice will absolutely speak no more. Her panicked eyes look out at you, exuding relished fear.
Payback. You slam your fist into the upper echelon of her head, softly enough not to shatter her skull but hard enough to swell her eyes shut. Blood pours down the front of her face. You allow it to decorate your fist. Next come her wrists. You encircle them in your grip and grind them easily to dust. Ignoring the writhing, you grip her behind her neck and under her buttocks and compress her spine to forty percent of its original length. The popping sounds have a musical quality to them. Fueled by the rhythm of the demolition, you crumple her up into a manageable ball and roll her, bowling ball-like, off the edge of the planet.
"Oh dear," says a voice behind you. Its frequency is irritating, but far more tolerable and survivable than that of the beast that you have just slain. "Whose castle is getting me now?"
You lift your gaze back toward the city. Two pink-clad princesses are examining you with fascination. You can hardly blame them for staring. You are, after all, mother****ing Donkey Kong. Why shouldn't women be fascinated with you?
But these females seem hostile. The speaker yanks a projectile out of the ground and hurls it at you. Enraged, you bat it backward, tripling its velocity, giving it enough force to carry the speaker off of the island, lacy pink ass first.
The second girl regards you sagely, without passing judgment. She has no pressing personality, only a genuine likeability. But she does not speak, only sucks you in with her infusedly blue eyes.
Seven feet of blade enter and exit her body, forming a curious orifice in her chest. No blood spurts out, but she arches her back in instant death. A tall, silver-haired swordsman stands behind her. He seems built in the form of Alucard, but as a legitimately heterosexual male, you can say that he is far less physically attractive.
And thus, he is useless to you. You snap your fingers, and a green teletubbie-style dinosaur saunters out of the sunset and to your feet. On its way, it tramples an Asian girl that was foolishly trying to camouflage herself in blue. You mount the lizard and charge the silver-haired man, but he merely impales the rubbery steed as he did the flower girl. You slide down his blade, still sitting on the shishkabob dino.
Frantically, you dodge the next ensuing thrust of the swordsman and take off. He gives chase on foot, waving his sword, host of two dead bodies. You burst into the city streets like Paul Revere and begin yelling, "The British are coming!" in your rap voice.
To your utter surprise, the first door that you pass opens in your path. You run right through it, removing it from its hinges, and stumble to the city's ground. The door's opener, a spiky-haired kid with a key, walks out and places his hands on his hips. His gigantic shoes occupy a large portion of your vision, but your eyes lock onto the silver-haired menace behind them.
"Now just what do you think you're do-"
The third victim of the Deus Ex Machina joins his two predecessors on the Masamune blade. You scramble to your feet, and the swordsman continues to give chase through the city streets. To his collection he adds a green-clad plumber.
Zap!
Just as the silver dude is about to overtake you, a bolt of lightning saves your ass. A redheaded swordsman has finally taken up the challenge against the silver-hair - and in high style. The two engage in a fight of epic skill and proportion involving many derogatory words on the part of the hunter - "Infidel! Do you know comprehend the power of Jenova!?" - and much silence on the part of the redhead, whose eloquence cannot be summarized with sordid ellipses.
The duo expend ki with a deathly finality. The loser will clearly never again see the light of day. Hours pass; it is well into the midnight hours before the fighting slows to the point where you can actually see what is going on.
"Halt, noble Crono!" The redhead freezes.
Alucard has again materialized out of nowhere. "I will be your second!" he calls out chivalrously. Crono looks relieved, and then the blade passes through his chest and flings him up as the next victim.
"Sephiroth!" yells Alucard, drawing his blade.
"Good evening," says Sephiroth, vanishing from sight.
There is a long silence. Alucard stares into the deserted city street, pondering the loss of a great ally.
And then a moment of consideration.
(A) Have Alucard make you a sammich. The fight was just getting intense.
(B) Go to the nearest deli and make yourself a sammich. You are mother****ing Donkey Kong, and you are gonna do what you've gotta do.
(C) Find a nice cafe and get a hot waitress to make you a sammich. Then chill out and have an intellectually stimulating conversation with Alucard as you eat.
(D) Get ye gun at the most expensive bar and get drunk off your ass.
SD
Sunday, November 05, 2006
Sunday, November 05, 2006
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