Ladies and Gentlemen, a few notices:
1) Number 8 has been claimed by the good Major as his property. In retrospect, it was Jack's doing, and I had no right to take it.
2) While he was reclaiming Number 8, Subterroreanian escaped. We have lost track of it, but it is somewhere in the arena.
With these two developments, we are going to close voting and introduce the two contestants: Crocodevil and The Mess.
Move over, Rapid Industrialization. There's a new devil in society. And this one has all the blessings of the Roman Catholic Church. Having fled his corpse at the last second of the battle, the true Crocodevil was captured by our team of priests. Once he was contained, they drew straws to see who would attempt to exorcize the demon from the place. Father McGarry came up short, said his last rights, and went in. When he emerged, he killed all the other priests. Something happened in there, we don't know what. All we do know is that Father McGarry is now the center core of the Crocodevil, controlling all of his bodily functions. The beast still controls its own wings, but when it comes to anything else, that's all Father McGarry.
The Mess: Tell me about your Mother. The only thing worse than whatever the hell The Mess was before this is what it is now. Stripped of its wings in its encounter with Project K, we handed it off to a team of German engineers and scientists. What we had returned to us wasn't pretty by any sense of the word. Its body still stands, but the fashions of the time seem to have influenced the scientists, as The Mess now has a Kaiser helmet fused to its skull, waiting to speak anyone who dares take it on. But this is not the most frightening part. They did... something to him. Now he simply asks questions concerning our pasts, debilitating us and forcing us to realize that Daddy never really cared. We wish he would just fly away already and leave us be, but then we remember he is incapable of flight, so we're stuck with him.
PLACE BETS NOW
Sidebar: Place bets now on Edward Tigerhands v. Tapogers!
Tapogres: The incident at the dance school was their fault. Having lost to the good graces of England, they were stolen by France and made into gentlemen. There are once again only three of them and they look so adorable in their little dauphin suits. We don't allow clubs in poetry class, so they have sabers now. The only problem is that when we taught them, we seemed to have awoken portions of their brains they didn't know they had, so now they can communicate with each other by thought and thought alone. Fortunately, nothing seems to have provoked them into fighting... yet.
Edward Tigerhands: Now this one was tough to bring in line, poor thing. That cocktail destroyed him, but somehow kept the tigers alive. It's really something, the damage that man can inflict. So, we've had to amputate him from the waste down and install some wheels. But, we couldn't find a motor, so we had to be creative. The poor thing can't go anywhere without the help of the two tigers, who are now essentially grappling hooks. To make him feel better, we've given him a bigger horn so at least he can do that. Poor kid. All he does now is sit and stare at the window in his cage, wondering why he didn't just die. Surely something can cheer him up.
Maybe killing some Frenchies.
Welcome to this, the first double loser round extravaganza of ZooFights the Third! Today’s billing is the double whammy of The Mess versus Crocodemon in Ring One and Edward Tigerhands versus Tapogres in Ring Two! We’ll bring you a blow by blow of each round as they occur, but stay tuned for more ZooFights action before we turn things back over to Major Failure and the victors round.
Mess v. Crocodemon: The Id, The Ego, And The Demonic Bruising!
Ladies and Gentlemen, we cannot stress this enough: please do not think of anything you don’t want attacked. If you have anything you do not want brought out by either a Priest or a Freudian, do not think it. We’re going to let them out now. Hopefully their thoughts will attract only each other.
And they’re off! The Mess has brought out a couch and is signaling for the Crocodemon to come down to him to talk! The Croc is in the air, exalting in Latin, signaling for The Mess to come closer and join in the homily. It looks like we may be at a stand still until one decided to attack the other. We’ll report back on them as soon as something develops.
With this we turn to
Edward Tigerhands v. Tapogres: Purple Suits and Wheeled Carnage!
We now have the Tapogres versus Edward Tigerhands. Both have faired poorly since their first round losses, The Tap Brothers heading to France and gaining telepathic powers, and Ed becoming more agile in his wheeled condition, with his tigers simply chomping at the bit to draw blood. Let’s see if the formerly vicious ogres can take on Ed’s sleeker form.
The combatants have entered the arena. There are the Tapogres, clad in purple with their sabers brandished. They’re silent, but we know they’re hashing something out between each other. Wait, where’s Ed?
We cannot seem to locate Edward Tigerhands. He has to be around here somewhere.
Mess v. Croc: The Mess has decided to take things into his own hands. He’s staring at The Croc and aiming his thoughts in that direction. We can’t describe what’s happening as we don’t have access to the brain of Father McGarrity, but our dossier tells us that Father L. McGarrity was raised in Ireland, one of twelve children. His father was a drunkard who regularly beat his mother. If I had to place a wager, The Mess is subjecting The Croc to these memories, amplifying them and perverting them as only he can. I don’t know if The Croc will be able to stand up to this any longer or if he’ll simply fall out of the sky without firing a single shot.
Meanwhile, Edward is still missing over in Arena Two. The Tapogres are getting restless and have taken out some leather bound volumes. They’re actively trying to simultaneously prove and disprove the existence of God to the crowd and to themselves.
Folks, things could get ugly if Edward doesn’t show himself soon.
WAIT! In the what’s that in the rafters? Is it? It is! Edward Tigerhands has positioned himself on a platform high above the Tapogres. It looks like he may use the setup of the arena to zip himself down and deliver a potentially fatal blow.
Mess v. Croc: It looks like it may all be over for The Croc. The Mess has him where he wants him and all it takes is one more bad repressed memory and it’s good night.
“PATER MEAM! OFFICUM PERFECI!”
The Croc is pissed. He’s fought off The Mess’s attack and is barreling at him, wings spread, hurling some sort of demonic projectile. Whatever happened, the Croc now sees the Mess as a representation of both his and Father McGarrity’s father. A drunken, Irish, demonic crocodile. Now that is something you do not see every day, but that’s what existed in that addled brain of the Crocodemon.
The Mess is trying to fend off the Croc with his speared head, but none of the attacks seem to be landing. It looks like slowly but surely, these projectiles are doing their job. I’m seeing boils erupt, pox arise, skin shed to bone, and somehow, I don’t know where it came from, but a sword slashed through the neck of The Mess. Plague, Pestilence, Famine, and War.
We may have unleashed the AntiCroc. That doesn’t matter right now. What matters is that the winner is the Crocodemon!
Down flies Edward Tigerhands. The Ogres don’t know what to make of this. They’ve never thought of having to try to take on a wheeled rhinoceros in free fall with chained tigers for projectiles. They’re helpless as gravity takes over.
Oo, right on to one of the three Tapogres. Speared through the skull and it’s still on his horn. I don’t think he’s taking that off any time soon.
In fact… unless I’m mistaken, he’s using the mental cries of anguish of the one speared onto him to distract the two while he, yes, yes he is!
He is launching the two tigers at the remaining two Tapogres and ensnaring them. Oh, those tigers are thirsty. They are tearing into the Tapogres and eating them alive. Oh, the humanity! This is reminiscent of the Oh, The Huge Manatee battle! Ed is taking no prisoners. He’s reeling in the tigers, leaving them snarling, and he’s revving up. Those tires are going to get some traction now!
Zero to Sixty in 1.5 seconds. Right over his still captive prey. The soul of the warrior is still alive as he spears the second, now the third onto his horn. All three precariously stacked in his horns, entrails dripping, and the tigers are being fed. My, what a worthless bunch of ogres. No wonder they nearly got blown up last time.
No questions asked here. The winner is Edward Tigerhands!
The winner because he says so and because we like this building is Subterroranean!
There you have it! Round one of the Losers League is over!
Ultraphant, Crocodemon, Edward Tigerhands, and Subterroranean! We will see you in Round Two after these guys undergo a few tweaks. I’m Dr. S. H. Moreau, this is Mr. Flagler, and we’re turning things back over to Bill and Jim.
Back to you, Major Failure!