And the winner of fight six
Chimp My Ride
I honestly underestimated the Chimps this round. Their motorcycles are testaments to modern engineering, and it's become apparent that we must hire Batman, the Hulk, and Isembard Kingdom Brunel more often. The fight began with the chimps whipping in circles around the plodding Fifty, firing off shots when they got the chance. The bullet-hole armor, while a clever idea, was not quite as clever in execution. The patchwork steel was weak, and the bullet shots knocked off chunks large enough to expose tender, weak flesh. The chimps, jealous of their competitor's shiny objects, leaped off their motorbikes, and began to steal the diamonds and bling directly off his quaking body. While two were occupied with prying off his hubcap-sized watch, Fifty finally got a hit in with a devastating backhand against a wall, knocking one out and dealing what could be a mortal blow to the second. Furious at their companions for losing the watch, the other two chimps renewed their efforts, and cut a hole through Fifty's armor, and unceremoniously shot him in the head. They then spent a few minutes attaching the items they deemed most valuable to their motorcycles, and they sped off, leaving the two wounded companions behind. The two were later taken to the Zoofights facility for resuscitation.
The winner of fight seven is:
Not Just for Breakfast
We are so sorry. So very, very sorry. NJFB is possibly the most vile creation that's ever graced the planet, and we're responsible.
NJFB entered the arena, riding a wave of noxious flesh, and taking a position at the southeast area of the floor. There was a smugness about him, something that, unfortunately, the audience picked up on and found unpleasant. NJFB, sensing the audience's feelings, began to grow more powerful, just as G-Rex entered the ring. G-Rex, a simple creature, found a wall of food and began to devour everything he could. Two heads simply meant he was twice as hungry. NJFB, sensing his chance, waited until both heads opened their gaping maws to take in more meat, sent a bolt of flesh and bone through the back of both of the heads. The match was over almost as fast as it began. NJFB dragged the corpse behind him with tendrils of rotting biomatter, to what ends we know not.
Today's fight is a tragic inevitability - two of our most noble and powerful teams have been forced to combat one another, when their talents could have been better used beating back the menaces threatening the whole tournament. Necrogoat swept through his last battle, and owl patrol literally scare the shit out of us. To make matters worse, drifts of mysterious swan feathers are beginning to clog up the arena drains and we don't know why. We really need these two teams of heroes, and yet they have to kill each other. What a miserable situation - if only there was some other way.
Fight Eight: Unstoppable Forces, Immovable objects
The Institution - Three armoured orangutans on rhinoceros steeds, armed with titanium carbide drilling lances, electro nets and flashbang grenades
Since they lost a member in the last round, the remaining members of the institution have been powered up with top-grade armour that will resist two direct hits from a lightsabre before burning through, rhinoceros steeds with extra iron cladding on the legs, and nine foot lances tipped with impossibly hard rotating drillbits. Their ethics, scholarly integrity and sense of honour have never been so bouyed up.
The Dream Made Flesh - Three vast walruses with enhanced riot shield flipprs, lightsabre tusks and astonishing lust for vengeance
The dream demolished their last opponents, and go through to this round unharmed. For the first time ever, they have issued a public statement of respect and admiration for their latest opponents, and have promised the quickest and most merciful death to such heroic fighters. Is such confidence bravado, or are these titans up to the task of taking down their brothers in arms?
battle eight: winners – THE ALLIANCE
When the Institution rode into the arena at the hieght of noon, the Dream Made Flesh was stood at its centre, waiting patiently. There were to be no surprises here, no deceit or trickery: both teams were committed to a fair showdown. As the rhinos of the institution cantered towards the monolithic bulk of the three walruses, a chant rose like the stench of death from the crowd:
"Kill, Kill, Kill, Kill, Kill, Kill, Kill, Kill....."
The chant grew louder as the Institution approached their opponents, amplified by rythmic clapping and stamping as the anticipation grew. While calm reigned on the faces of the combatants, the audience were being driven into a depraved bloodlust, their faces twisted like gargoyles at the prospect of seeing such noble beasts tear each other to shreds. The earthshaking chant grew to a crescendo, and the Institution reached the centre of the arena.
There was silence. The nominal leader of the institution, Bishop Badneses IV, removed a gauntlet and held out a palm before the colossal mass of the three sea beasts. With infinite formality and respect, a riot shield was raised and touched to the knuckles of the offered hand.
At this point, beloved wildlife documentary maker Sir David Attenborough descended on a pillar of golden steam and rose petals, speaking in a voice that transfixed all present.
“You all hoped for carnage. A brutality and savagery that answered the cravings of the beasts within you. Well, I’m afraid that is where all the savagery in this ring resides – inside yourselves. You are the zoo in this zoofight. These gentlemen have resolved their conflict with a handshake, and you – I am afraid – have lost. Do not attempt to leave. This alliance travels upwards into round three – you will all continue in the loser’s bracket. God help you.”
And so the entire audience hung their heads and trooped off into the holding pens as a new team, and the new alliance retreated to their campaign tent in order to formulate strategies against future opponents.