Good evening, hobbitses…
Tonight’s winners are:
The Hive Lions by 32 to 21 and Owl Patrol by 33 to 19
Day two of the 2006 ZOOFIGHTS tournament has shown quite dramatically how quantity can have a quality all of its own, as two of our most powerful animals were felled by classic horde team.
The day began with an explosive showdown between The Hive Lions and fan favourite Chuggatherium. With the sloth being sightless, pundits were expecting an exciting battle of stealth and intuition. Unfortunately, they - like us - forgot to factor into our predictions the hooting and braying of a quarter million fans surrounding the arena.
Chuggatherium went apeshit instantaneously, baying a deafening challenge and spraying unimaginable fussilades of white hot iron slugs into the crowd. We rushed to summon security to the arena to avert another PR crisis, but Retired Sheriff John Burnell tripped and landed on the “incinerate all witnesses” button, which sprayed ignited petrol over the entire arena seating area BY MISTAKE.
Furious and unsatisfied, Chuggatherium began tearing the arena to pieces, smashing through trees and barrels in search of his adversaries as black smoke rose in vast clouds from the roaring flames of the crowd.
Seeing the colossus thundering towards their node turtle, the lions began nudging it desperately out from harm’s way – but all too late. A short burst of chaingun fire brushed the edge of the turtle’s armoured shell, making the unmistakeable ping of solid ammunition on ceramite armour: a sound that chuggatherium had been waiting to hear.
Fighting off volleys of bites, slashes and stabs as he closed, Chuggatherium homed in on his tormentor. Flipping the turtle over effortlessly and running it through with four sturdy claws, he gradually lifted it above head height, twenty five feet in the air. The lions tore chunks out of him in their ruthless attack, but there was an inevitability to this maneuver. As the surviving audience chanted “Chug!, Chug!, Chug!”, the sound of a minigun revving up was only superceded by the mind-shattering sound of bullet swarms battering their way out of an armoured turtle and chuggatherium howling a mighty roar of hatred and triumph.
Dropping his raised arm to a sudden halt and cracking the back of the perforated reptile, the epic ground sloth proceeded to fling the bleeding mess in a messy spiral towards the crowd, before finally being brought down by the claws and fangs of all six raging, lobotomised lions and declared a fucking mess by referees.
battle four: gaze not into the abyss
We were getting seriously fucking anxious. Mr Atlantic had been out in the arena for an hour with no opposition, and there was only so long our ring announcer – even with his auxiliary lung banks – could stretch out the world “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaatlaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaantiiiiiiiiiiic” before his heart burst. The truth is, Owl Patrol had escaped. And no, we have no idea how.
Things were getting desperate, when the arena floodlights shut off, leaving an eerie gloom. Suddenly the arena speakers started blasting out terrifying industrial dance music as strobes, searchlights and lasers flickered over the crowd. Something was moving out there, causing ripples in the sea of humanity. Black shapes appeared against the open sand. Suddenly, blood was gushing from Mr.Atlantic’s blowhole as he stumbled and swung, anguished screams drowned out by the music. Similar torrents erupted from legs, neck and back as shadows fluttered across the gaps between shadows in the arena.
When the lights snapped back on the music cut out, leaving only a low moan of exhaustion from the swaying shape in the centre of the ring. The crowd stared in shock as Mr.Atlantic slowly keeled over forward into a lake of his own blood. In the silence that followed, a single hoot sounded in the distance.
Good evening, hobbitses…
Battle five: All good things come to an End
4. The Institution – 4 orang-utans with tazer-morningstars and nets, mounted on war giraffes
Combining the dignity of the giraffe with the wisdom and nobility of the orang-utan, The Institution is a team that no zoofights fan could fail to respect. Entering the arena at a stately trot and with a majestic fanfare, these mounted apes rarely fail to command a standing ovation. Trained first as gentlemen and then as warriors, these are no ordinary apes: since before conception, these animals have been genetically nudged towards greater mental faculties and martial prowess. Today they are armed not just with sinewy primate strength and rapier intellect, but with weighted nets and long-reach tungsten morningstars, kitted out to deliver a stunning tazer blow on contact as well as a vicious impact. Their steeds are specially bred giraffes, retaining elegance and yet gaining a thicker layer of protective tissue around their carbon-reinforced limbs, as well as a light armour of boiled leather plates.
These apes fight well in and out of the saddle, with good coordination and exemplary cunning. Whilst their mounts are slightly less fragile than nature intended, they are still not too hot on the defense: that said, they can still reach a good speed on the charge, and deliver a vicious rear kick. The Institution can implement great suppression tactics, using their weighted hemp nets and shocking weapons to pacify many foes.
Unfortunately, this team is somewhat prone to the distasteful habits of sportsmanship and mercy, often leading them to underestimate enemies for the sake of fair play or compromise themselves by considering their foes beaten on the basis of apparent, often feigned surrender. Also, when dismounted, the orang-utans lose the height advantage that so facilitates the use of morningstars and nets, often resorting to fists instead.
By scaling their mounts’ necks to perch on their heads, The Institution gain a mightily high firing platform from which to coordinate their smiting or from which to leap dashingly into single combat.
Points of interest:
The weighted nets of the institution are most effective on smaller beasts, although will still momentarily subdue larger creatures. The shock delivered by the morningstars is enough to fry the mind of a rat, or cause sudden and distracting pain to an African elephant.
11. The End – 200 soft-shell lobsters emitting painful electric jolts, with soviet ideology
Hailing from the same soviet labs that brought us the gatling-gun-manning cosmonaut gorillas of last year’s tournament, ‘The End’ was developed as a biological solution to atomic era trench war in the early eighties. Using water supplies, sewage systems or wet ground as a vector, this briny, slippery mass of flexible crustacea would slip and slide its way through conventionally impenetrable trenches, bunkers and command complexes, spreading corrosive slime, egg clusters and painful electric jolts as it went. ‘The End’ is not a single organism, but a colony of specially soft-shelled lobsters equipped with superior senses and powerful bioelectric organs capable of delivering a powerful shock through their chitin-edged pincers. Hardened to resist their own current and voltage, these determined fellows secrete a constant slow tide of acidic, briny gel that keeps them moist, conducts electricity, and slowly eats away at unprotected surfaces in the manner of diluted battery acid.
‘The End’ is slow but resilient, waiting patiently to stealthily overcome all prey. It is fearless in its advance, and thanks to constant stunning shocks and acid burns it is almost inescapable to all but the toughest and most indomitable of foes.
Unlike ordinary lobsters, ‘The End’ has no chitin as defense except for providing an edge to its tenacious nipping claws. Whereas this allows for great flexibility, it means a soft if risky target for angry enemies.
Occasionally and with great effort, the entire swarm can focus its electrical output into one individual creature, which is momentarily heated to steel-furnace temperatures before vanishing into a cloud of powder. Whilst devastating, this maneuver is so costly to the wellbeing of the swarm that it is only used in emergencies.
Points of interest:
The lobsters share a communal purpose and intelligence, equal to that of a very stupid man.
Battle six: Where hopes are smashed
14. Chimp my Ride – 5 chimps in a tricked-out humvee, sporting lead pipes, wrenches, and a ridiculous pride in their ve-hickle
What follows is the transcript of the zoofights president’s address to his investors at the end of the 2005-2006 financial year:
For centuries, a burning question has raged amongst the ranks of psychologists, philosophers and behaviourologists alike: “what separates man from the other animals?” A point of discussion that often arises centres upon the idea of a “sense of mind”; specifically, do any animals have a sense of “self”, or just mindless and unintelligent instinct? A fish will attack its own reflection as a stranger, whilst a chimp will recognise itself calmly. Does this mean that chimps have a lucid awareness of their own existence?
Well, they had better fucking hope so, because we are not believing their bullshit any longer. Fuck you chimps, you guys aren’t pulling your weight… you’re a species-wide simile for Jack Nicholson in “one flew over the cuckoo’s nest” when he pretends to have a lobotomy. No longer will you hide behind this pretense of existential ignorance to avoid taxes, money and clothes! If you have a sense of self, we are going to beat it the fuck out of you! You will be put in a room with a TV, a crusty old car and a treasure trove of hip-hop/mechanical bounty. Every time you do something that drifts towards resembling popular show “pimp my ride” you will be given beer and fresh meat, every time you scratch your arse and bark you will be solemnly led away from your cage and hit in the eye with a wrench wielded by Rapper Xzibit.
We don’t know what this has to do with a sense of self, but we *do* know that there has never been a better time to invest in zoofights! GO TEAM!
<the speech breaks up into rabid yells and deep hoots of approval from half the audience of investors present, drowning out the terrified screeching of the other half – chimps, to the last man – as they are dragged away underground by Hispanic engineers.>
Tactics: This team’s style is one of balance – the close quarters brutality of the Hip-hop chimps offset by their cautious defense of their beloved ride. Wild, uncoordinated pistol fire bound together by the target-sharing organisation of a well-oiled team.
Strengths: The strengths of 5 strong Hispanic engineers, multiplied by “the chimp factor” of 5.
Weaknesses: Due to our rampant bulldozing of the scientific method, we actually never got round to working out whether chimps have a sense of mind. Have these chimps accepted a conscious existence as a vehicle upgrades garage team, or are they merely going through laborious lists of learned motions without any analytical awareness of their actions?. In any case, rapper Xzibit is on hand with a wrench to sort out any of the little c**ts if they step out of line.
Special skills: Muscly dwarves with lead pipes and tools? A jeep with a built in x-box and aquarium? How special do you want these skills to be?
Points of interest: Chimps may or may not attempt to upgrade any machinery around them, with pathetic results.
16. The Dream Made Flesh – 3 walruses with extendable lightsabre tusks, boosted flippers and riot shields
Lore: It is extremely rare that creatures come to us desiring “upgrades”, the vast majority sense the terrible wrongness that emanates from our labs like so much body odor from the Gaia Online forums, but on occasion, it is known to happen. Four years ago, three walruses made the long journey from the Bering Strait to our offices. The three of them each signed a waiver with a slap from an inky flipper, and began the process. During the testing phase, it became known to us that the creatures were both inordinately intelligent and full of hate. They began communication with our resident psychics, but they manage to keep their object of hate well hidden. It is still unknown what possesses them with such rage.
Tactics: The three have as much knowledge as is available to them regarding combat, both regarding strategy and martial skill. The three of them together are vastly more efficient than two standard squads of equally trained humans. They are most effective defensively, using their shields to form an impenetrable wall, then lunging over to smash attackers with flippers and main with tusks. Using this formation, they can withstand siege for days at a time, exiting only to kill fatty marine life for food.
Strengths: These beasts are extraordinarily strong and heavy, capable of destroying a tank with little effort. Their skin has been thickened and can easily withstand small arms fire, but not for long. Their most obvious enhancement is their tusks, capable of extending a beam of solid energy approximately ten feet, but they are generally kept at shorter distances for convenience.
Weaknesses: The trio can get lost in thought, perhaps plotting revenge against their long-lost enemy. During this they are capable of fight, but are distracted. A skilled opponent could conceivably recognize their glazed eyes and almost dismissive counterattacks as an opportunity to do damage. Their riot-shield fortress is vulnerable from above. While their reflexes are certainly fast enough to deal with a threat, it is definitely the best method of attack to destroy something impregnable by other means. Should the battle extend underwater, their lightsabers are rendered useless.
Special skills: The three have actually managed to create a tactic that is nigh unstoppable against slow moving or otherwise immobile opponents. Two members get on their backs, link tusks with a third, which lays between the two, and use their massive strength to hurl it across the field. The living projectile crushes anything in its path with its immense weight, and once it lands it rampages, smashing and cutting anything near it. There are some issues with accuracy, but for the most part the attack is very impressive.
Points of interest: These unholy beasts are inspired by a hatred so epic they were willing to undergo operations that would kill an elephant, and they did it without anesthesia. Defeating them could require solving the mystery.
The winners of battle five are:
The Institution! - 29 to 5.
The End waited. The End had been in the arena since well before dawn, they are used to working long hours back in the motherland. They sat and waited and watched the Institution enter the ring, rear back on their Giraffes, and begin to wail on their comrades with their maces. The shocks from the maces did almost no damage, the smashing blows did. Unfortunately for the orangutans, the End is used to taking losses. The End maintained docility, to lull the orangutans into a false sense of security. Realizing that their tactics weren’t working, the Institution decided to cast their nets across the sea of crustaceans, intending to gather them up and smash them in one massive blow. As they were gathered, the End began storing a charge, which they promptly unleashed upon their now-captors. Two of the orangutans were stunned, but one unfortunate beast had been holding his net by the metal weights, creating a conductor that served as a vehicle for the charge. The orangutan immediately began to shake and convulse, its steed began seizing similarly. It was a sad sight to see, the proud beast rendered senseless, but it was clear there was no saving it. The pincers of the End had it held in too many places, the electric shock had shorted out its fundamental brain functions, it had begun to disgrace itself in various scatological ways. With a very human cry of dismay, its brethren ended its life with a merciful Morningstar blow to the head. The two then used their morningstars as a means to hurl the nets out of the arena, ending the bout with a ring-out. The two mourned their loss and sadly walked off the field, their friend’s corpse in tow.
The winners of Battle Six are:
The Dream Made Flesh – 33 to 0
This is the most impressive display of brute strength I’ve ever seen in my career as a Zoofights correspondent. The chimps entered the ring first, tooling about in their vehicle, yelling stupid shit and listening to terrible music. They drove about for quite some time, until out of the sky like a fiery sword from god, one of the riot shields plummeted from the clouds and sliced the gaudy Humvee in half, lengthwise. Not only did it destroy the car; it likewise split a chimp (who was riding bitch) in twain. The other chimps promptly shit themselves, as chimps are wont to do. The crowd turned skyward to find the Walrus’ vantage point, it had managed to gain access to the roof of the control tower, collaboration with Owl Patrol is suspected. The other two Walruses joined him, and together the three leaped from the tower to the arena floor, an astonishing feat of strength that would leave lesser walruses spread across the ground like so much pizza sauce. The Dream casually made their way to the chimps, which at this point were reduced to gibbering and further shitting themselves. The Dream Made Flesh are so incredibly violent and intimidating, the crowd themselves were unsure what to do, it’s much like being the presence of a terribly angry god, and much like a terribly angry god, these beasts were going to deal out violence the likes of which mankind rarely sees. One walrus picked up half the humvee between his flippers, and began smashing the chimps with it; two of the chimps gathered up enough sense to flee, which was in all actuality a terrible plan. The chimps ran into a corridor, which surprised them, as they had previously been outside. As they took a moment to contemplate their surroundings, the walls of their hallway smashed in on them, creating a mass of fur and blood, the chimps had effectively been turned to liquid; they had unknowingly run between the other two Walrus’ riot shields. This battle was over. The Dream Made Flesh bellowed in unison, a cry that shook the very foundations of the arena. The walruses left, unsatisfied but done for today.
Fight Seven: “Dead Man’s Chest”
Not Just For Breakfast – The corpses of six cows, in telekinetic thrall to a goat.
Originally commissioned as a stage show for popular German industrial rock outfit Rammstein, plans for this project went seriously awry when the r&d team responsible for product development embarked on a mammoth whiskey, PCP and ketamin odyssey lasting eight weeks rather than actually show up at our labs. Whereas they certainly created a spectacle, we would rather they had stuck to the plans included with the commission instead of devising their own while huffing glue and listening to “Amerika” on repeat for a week. But enough excuses. There’s no point in lying to you. What we have is a jet black goat, with the power to shape and animate mammalian necrotic tissue, specifically beef. The goat itself is virtually defenceless, but can harness the latent psychic fields of large arena crowds to telekinetically manipulate any mammal corpses within visual range. Whereas it cannot control corpses like zombies, it can dismantle them and create walls, projectiles or shields from their bones and flesh.
More terrifying still, the goat becomes more aggressive and powerful the more it is despised by a watching crowd. At low levels of hatred it is clumsy and extremely defensive, yet as audience fury at its unnatural talents grows, it resorts to more lethal, reckless attacks, leaving itself relatively vulnerable and yet attacking with a tsunami of flesh and bone. As if this wasn’t bad enough, the goat can use any mammal body it kills as raw material for its onslaught.
If you shoot the goat you kill the ghoul. It is just a goat. Any opponent with true zeal, determination and courage stands a chance of knocking out the nucleus of this ghastly flesh nebula, especially as it becomes less guarded and more belligerent.
At its most powerful, the goat will summon together its meat swarm into an unwieldy flesh golem, behind which it will skulk protected by a shifting array of meaty limbs and bone spines.
Points of interest:
There are limits to the goat’s power – even at its strongest it cannot fire projectiles as fast as bullets, nor can it influence bone to penetrate stone, steel or anything stronger than itself. The goat cannot move itself telekinetically, nor its opponents – only dead mammals. Whereas it can manipulate all dead flesh to an extent, only mammal meat will provide decent, predictable results.
15. Captain Jack Sasquatch – Bigfoot in pirate garb, brandishing a pistol and cutlass and riding a chariot pulled by 2 honourable orks on motorbikes
Hardly a single soul outside the Zoofights conglomerate knows that a specimen of the creature known as Sasquatch was revealed to science in the year 2003. Even fewer are aware that the creature was immediately apprehended and secured in a zoofights facility. A surviving remnant of the extinct ape species Gigantopithecus, Sasquatch was truly a miracle to be treasured. Within days of capture, we had suppressed all of Sasquatch’s higher brain functions and linked it up to our database of martial arts knowledge for three years of intensive didactic hypersleep. Last month we brought old Sasquatch back out of the induced coma, hoping for a nine foot tall, hairy ninja. Unfortunately, we discovered a technician had accidentally plugged the beast’s brain into an old hard drive rather than our martial arts database. Specifically, Sasquatch’s mind had been watching “Pirates of the Caribbean” on a loop for the last three years.
As a result of this error, “Cap’n Jack” is now quite, quite mad and unable to perceive any reality other than “Pirates of the Carribean”. Out of a sense of pity, we teemed him up with the two Ork Bikers that came into being as an ill-fated outcome of Project: “Bring Warhammer 40k Miniatures to Life”, who now devotedly drag him round on an ornate Roman chariot as he waves a pistol and a cutlass and tries to form memorable Johnny Depp quotes with his inadequate ape throat.
Cap’n Jack’s Charisma and strength is offset by his complete delirium, and so it is up to his two orkish allies to pull him into and shepherd him through battles. As such, they tend to ride straight into the thick of things, fighting with their own crude futuristic axes and rifles while clearing a path for Jack to meander violently down.
Let us not forget that Jack is a nine foot tall gorilla with a gun, a sword, and instinctive knowledge of swashbuckling. Added to this, he has the service of two beings designed as barbaric warriors in a fictional universe, who are riding motorbikes.
Cap’n Jack will do anything for rum, up to and including attempting to leave the arena via the crowd. This invariably ends in carnage, although not always to Jack’s detriment. Also, Jack is only capable of relating to battlefield situations in as much as they resemble scenes from “Pirates”. Poor bastard.
Occasionally, Cap’n Jack will swing from a rope at the most opportune moment. In places where no rope was previously visible. Weird shit, seriously.
Points of interest:
The ork motorbikes have attached machineguns, and the orks themselves are armed with large-bore solid-slug pistols and large axes.
Fight Eight: Clash of the bastards
6. Grapplesaurus Rex – T-rex with harpoon gun arms
90% of new employees to the zoofights combatant design team are thrown out of the office door within a week of being hired, for the tragic mistake of suggesting that we clone a T-rex for our events. This is not for the reason that such a feat is scientifically impossible. We laugh in the face of science. In fact, we don’t have to laugh in the face of science because we’ve already invented a perpetual motion engine that powers a machine to laugh in the face of science for us. The reason we have never considered cloning a T-rex is simple: they have terrible little arms. Pathetic, bitch slapping arms.
Even we were humbled when an enthusiastic young biomechanical engineer presented us with a blueprint for a ‘Rex armed with pneumatic harpoon cannons installed on ball joints in the animal’s torso in place of arms. It turns out that after drinking a bottle of mescaline-laced rum and watching King Kong four times, this young man had decided that what T-rex needed to give it the edge over other megafauna was harpoons. And where better to put them than in place of those mincing, flapping little arms?
With its new limbs, grapplesaurus is capable of impaling animals on its harpoons at medium range and then using its powerful withdrawal winches to pull struggling victims within range of its massive jaws and slashing foot claws. With powerful traction engines mounted along the upper thorax to wind in the carbon steel harpoon cable, grapplesaurus can reel in almost any prey given time.
As well as the obvious strengths of a T-rex, and the added danger of the harpoon towing ability, we must not forget the initial impact damage of the high velocity steel harpoons themselves, which can tear jagged holes in flesh, shatter bone and lodge firmly in armour.
Star Wars, Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back. You do the maths.
G-rex can use its harpoons to scale tall objects, as well as to pull itself forwards against a strong force.
Points of interest:
G-rex’s harpoons take a full minute to spool back in once fired. At any point, G-rex may retract the barbs on the harpoons, causing them to slide out of their target and retract back to its body.
13. Snakes on a Brain – a sperm whale’s brain in an armored dome, with 12 anacondas mounted as arms, and a laser defense turret
Lore: We here at Zoofights are the first to admit that we’re not perfect. We make a point of systematically disposing anyone else who brings up the topic, but we’re not afraid to fess up to the occasional slip-up. So, when one of our interns decided to register his disappointment with Freddy vs. Jason by nuking New Line Cinema, we were gracious enough to admit that it was, in fact, Our Bad. But to make up for it, we’ve brought you a team that truly lives up to their memory, reverently named after one of their unreleased blockbusters.
With special help from our aquatic neuroscience specialists, we managed to pluck the brain from a living sperm whale and transfer it into a 6-foot tall transparent steel dome. Attached around the base of the dome, are the twelve giant anacondas with steel reinforced skeletons, which are capable of being controlled by the brain. To top of this delicious little lollypop of transpecies fury, we attached a laser turret to the top of the dome.
Strengths: From a distance, the Snakes on a Brain is devastating, using its laser turret to blind, boil and singe his opponents, occasionally getting lucky enough to set something afire. Up close the brain is just as dangerous. It has become adept at using it’s arms to club, bite, grasp, and crush opponents.
Weaknesses: The sperm whale can only direct the movement of a few anacondas at once. When not under control from the brain, the anacondas have a mind of their own. We had to replace 3 anacondas before the others learned how to say out of the way of the turret.
Special skills: Deprived of its normal voice, the whale often uses the anacondas to hiss a hypnotically creepy whale song. Only the most steadfast of opponents can ignore the sinister melody.
Points of interest: We attached pivoting castors to the base of the dome, allowing Snakes on a Brain to push itself around, albeit slowly. However, it tends to get stuck in rough ground
winner: Not Just For Breakfast
The results of this battle have given us grave concern. Suffice to say, Owl Patrol are now low down on our list of priorities. As for the battle itself? Simply put, Sasquatch got pretty badly spannered. The goat held eerily steady, cows floating listlessly beside him as he gazed barrenly at the roaring death that approached. As the bullets began to fly, two cows were wedged like ramps in front of the bikes too quickly for the to avoid.
The bikes hit, sending them spiralling into the air with chariot in tow and spewing random volleys of bullets – many of which slammed into the crowd. Sasquatch hurled himself out of the chariot at the apex of its flight, grabbing a rope and swinging down from the sky towards the goat. The orks crashed and were severely injured, proceeding to try and extricate themselves from the wreckage as the goat formed a sturdy meat shield with the former ramps.
Cap’n Jack landed with charisma on the outside of the meatshield, beginning to hack away at it like a Turkish millionaire carving up a donner kebab mound for his daughter’s wedding feast.
But alas, as sasquatch hacked at the flesh, the shavings and slices fluttered up to plaster themselves onto the surface afresh, joined by fragments of the gunned-down audience. In time, they began to slap themselves onto the captain himself, slowly encasing him in a dripping, squelching cocoon of foetid meat as his energy faded.
When the orks emerged from the flames brushing themselves off, the necrogoat slowly rolled the ball containing Jack Sasquatch towards them, while it continued to stand motionless. As the orks backed away with the meat-shrouded body of their still-living companion, they noticed a single swan’s feather protruding from the beef.
Orks will not often retreat, but this was not a time to waste life needlessly. They would best necrogoat another day.
winner: Grapplesaurus Rex
A straightforward monster battle, this one – two big nasty bastards going at it like two tramps warring over half a McDonald’s bun. In seconds G-rex lost an eye to laser fire, earning SOAB a cracking harpoon blow to the dome, in which the harpoon tip got stuck. Another harpoon skewered three anacondas, and then the reeling-in began. Laser fire laid waste to large areas of G-rex, but to no avail. The reptile king reeled the dome in to close range and planted a vast foot on it, ripping three snakes off by completely winding in the impaling harpoon, and then breaching the dome with a determined curbstomp.
Not much to say after that, folks.. just a lot of twitching and then a sad silence. Sightings of necrogoat around the corpse of SOAB, surrounded by human corpses are of course complete fabrication.