"Believed to be a pet project of the notorious Russian cleric Rasputin, this unloveable hulk died twenty thousand years ago and was frozen in a snowdrift. Now with the aid of unspeakable black sorcery and a few hundred gallons of formaldehyde, the sinister sorcerer has brought it back to all three and a bit of its remaining feet. Shambling along in a comet trail of flies, gnats and corpse beetles, this beast barely knows how to walk – but it hasn’t forgotten how to kill. It has no infectious zombie powers, but it makes up for that in sheer presence and mass."
Did he really think he'd win by simply steamrolling over a crab made of steam? Silly mammoth. Well, your friends Moreau and Flagler are here to help. He's smaller now. And faster, but weaker. We've taken those vodka tanks Rasputin installed and rigged up some pipelines to head to the tusks. There, we added two distribution nozzles and a spark plug. He's a flame thrower now. But, he's a bit flammable, so he needs to watch out for his own good.
"Many elephants are butchered on Africa's barren northwest coast to feed the ravenous piano mills of Europe, but some are worth keeping. Towering 13 feet at the shoulder and weighing 12,000lb, Ultraphant has done well in betraying his species. Now with an Iridium morningstar instead of a trunk and clad in boots of Arab-forged Ceramic armour, he strides the foggy coastal dunes and the night-cloaked scrublands in search of others of his kind - and then mercilessly batters them to death for the ivory collectors. It is said that he feasts on the meat of his own kind and joins with his Mohammedan masters in the slaughter of Christian babies, but whatever the rumours it is plain as day that this joyless executioner is a beast with a dead soul."
There wasn't much we could do for this one. Already having one elephant and with this ones brain gone, it existed as a shell. Brain transfusions didn't work. Neither did adding more brains. So, we did the best we could. We fitted it out with a system of tubes to inject it with chemicals to make its muscles work without brain impulses. What we came up with is the closest definition to a killing machine you can find. It does not think. It does not feel. All it does is move, kill, and stop. Its power is only limited by the size of the chemical batch attached the tank on its back. Destroy that, destroy the beast. Fail to do so, it may destroy you.
The Rumble in the Jungle, the Tussle in the Tundra, the Elephight Royale!
Place Your Bets!
Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for joining us this lovely Saturday afternoon. We apologize for the radio static, but things simply aren’t safe right now. We will be bringing you a blow by blow of the Elephight to end all Elephights, Reanimammut versus Ultraphant.
The contenders have entered their respective pens. This looks to be a fight relying on brute strength, with neither contender having much brain power. In fact, Ultraphant has no brain power to speak of as he lacks a brain.
Some critics are expecting Reanimammut to walk away with this due to the fact he can control his own motor actions. Others feel that Ultraphant will take his inability to feel pain and simply roll over the competition. Let’s see how things play out.
AND THEY’RE OFF!
Those expecting Reanimammut to use his newly found flamethrower quickly have been proven right. As we speak, the Mammoth is spewing fire left and right, trying to hit Ultraphant with anything he can.
Ultraphant has gotten a few good hits on Rasputin's pet, but in a sick and perverted irony, Reanimammut is simply setting the portions of him that have been physically detached on fire, owing to his high flammability.
Ultraphant is clueless as to what to do. He can't process the change in surroundings, so he's simply going after Reanimammut with all his strength. Every successful hit leads to another flaming pyre of twice-reanimated mammoth corpse. Slowly, but surely, he's being encircled in his own victory blows. Things do not look good for our brainless friend India. He's going down, ladies and gentlemen. Things do not look good for him right now.
We have gained access to an image of what is unfolding in the arena, ladies and gentlemen!
Things do not look good for Ultraphant
BUT WAIT! What's this!
Ultraphant is alive! His inability to know when he's been beaten is keeping him up and he is still moving.
Reanimammut is shocked. Things on fire should not keep going. This could be the turning point Ultraphant was looking for.
Ulraphant is alive, and he's still up and moving.
His stupidity seems to be his own best weapon here, as he steam rolls into Reanimammut. He is a moving inferno, unaware of the smoldering heat or the simple fact that he is on fire.
Right into Reanimmamut! And now the Mammoth is on fire as well! They both could be down for the count!
Gentlemen! H.M. Flagler here. My associate has been called away as I warned he might, and I will be relating the events to you all till he returns.
ON WITH THE SHOW!
The two behemoths lie on the scorched ground of the arena floor, surrounded by burning chunks of their own wasted bodies. They are themselves aflame. Despite the incredible injuries they have sustained, they continue to move feebly. It doesn't look like either of them will be able to get up.
But wait... what's this?! By God almighty sirs, I can only hope there is an artist or cameraman somewhere down here, for the images I am taking in are truly incredible!
Ultraphant has pulled itself to its armored feet and is lurching steadily towards Reannimamut. His flail is uncoiled from its winch, and the alchemical monstrosity looks ready to deliver a deathblow! His foe sees him coming, and is struggling to stand, but its hind legs aren't moving at all. Propped up on its forelimbs, it does the only thing it can: send yet another blast of vodka-flame at the lumbering fiend before it. Ultraphant looks now like a walking fireball, spraying burning chemicals and bits of itself in all directions as it mindlessly attacks! It's closing in! Reanimammut's leg has given out and it's swaying to one side... He's down! Ultraphant is rearing back to strike, and the flail will surely crush Reanimammut's skull into pulp! But wait, the unfamiliar bulk of the chemical tank lies right in the path of the swinging sphere, and he's smashed it from his back, right down onto the ground near his opponent's head! He pauses and staggers forward, his source of energy gone.... Oh no, the tank has ruptured, and it's leaking chemicals toward the burning... GET DOWN!
*a deafening explosion roars through the arena*
Good lord, that was enormous... we can't see anything yet... there's no way either of them survived that! You there, laborers! Go and make sure this place isn't going to come down on our heads... this greasy smoke is everywhere, we still can't see... ah, they've opened up some vents in the ceiling and the smoke is clearing.
Lord almighty, it is truly carnage down there. Reanimammut is almost completely gone. It looks like the explosion literally blasted it through the air, and between the concussion and the impact of landing it's disintegrated... only one of its back legs and part of its pelvis are left. Other than that, I don't see any part of it bigger than a breadbox.
Where's Ultraphant...? Ah, there he is! Well, the front half of him or so, anyway. He's surely dead as well, so I'm not sure what we... wait. No. That can't be, there's simply no... but it is! Ultraphant is trying to drag himself forward on his destroyed legs. It is truly monstrous, ladies and gentlemen! Moreau has really created a freak of science here. It is burnt beyond recognition, its eyes and ears cooked away by the flames, and its body torn clear in half, but it's still moving! That qualifies as a win, sirs.
A costly victory indeed for ULTRAPHANT
Place your bets!
1) Reannimut: Vodka Burned to a crisp
2) Tapogres: France
3) Edward Tigerhands: Wheeled
4) The Crocodevil: Father McGarry
5) Ultraphant: Tubes Victorious Round One
6) Subterroranean (NEW!): Blink
7) The Mess: Kaiser
8) The Necronomitron: [DO NOT RELEASE. DANGEROUS. OFF LIMITS UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE]
Moreau and Flagler