Well here we are at the final matchup on the round one card, and it's going to be a damn strange one, I can tell you. Of all this year's contenders, these two are perhaps the most enigmatic, and seem to share a deep mutual animosity, fostered through vicious telepathic exchanges that we have so far been unable to intercept.
Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you:
Terrifyingly, the Japanese entry arrived before we sent any invitation. It arrived in a blink of light around ten minutes prior to the activation of the time portal, requesting quarters until the tournament. We weren't inclined to say no to an eight-foot, levitating cuttlefish from the distant future, so we acquiesced to its telepathic demand. After that we held a lot of panic meetings, before assuring ourselves that everything was fine and going according to plan. To be fair, that's about all we know of the Japanese Delegation, since it hasn't let us in to its wing of the station.
Size:Eight feet long.
Speed: Unknown, but we'd be surprised if it was slow.
Offense: The Delegation can maintain telekinetic control over three to five inert items, but has less strength with each additional object grasped. It has no control over flesh.
Defense: Unknown - we sure as hell haven't tried to attack it.
Temperament: What our sensors can detect tell us that this creature has a cognitive capacity somewhere in the "frighteningly high" region.
And set against the inscrutable cephalopod:
Despite all efforts to tempt New Zealand's crazed druids with a proper monster for the tournament, they were insistant on receiving a walrus. It transpired that this was due to a long-held religious belief, centred round an arcade machine in Auckland that had been running since the atomic war with Australia. The machine, reverently maintained, had been playing Taito's "New Zealand Story" for two centuries straight, and the survivor's descendants now saw the game's walrus antagonist as a God. Under secret rites, the insane machine consciousness of the Taito machine was downloaded into the Walrus, which was subsequently given a battery of genetic alterations. We suspect that a surviving copy of "once were warriors" may be responsible for Walrus' wifebeater vest, meaty fists, and excellence in close combat.
Size: Three metres high.
Speed: A lot quicker than you'd think from its bulbous frame. In addition, the Walrus has truly legendary reflexes, due to its arcade machine mind.
Offense: A shotgun and a broken pool cue.
Defense: You don't fuck with walruses controlled by arcade machines that survive nuclear wars.
This final battle of the first round will occur in the (hastily evacuated) main hangar of the station. Where we seem to have lost artificial gravity. That means tonight's battle will occur in ZERO G, with SPACESHIPS AND SHIT floating around. Goddamnit... who left a fucking Orchestra lying around in the hangar? I thought I said I wanted that place cleared. Not to mention the rockets that are still in there... I'm looking at you Napoleon, Stalin and the British contingent.
this could get messy...
Wasting no time, the futuristic cuttlefish starts the match by ripping a 500 ton rocketship from its mooring and slamming it straight at the Walrus. Even we didn't know that bastard could move things that size!
With reflexes that are belied by his bulk, the hefty Pinniped pushes off from a bulkhead and sails inches clear of the cast-iron vessel, as it crumples mightily into the hangar bay wall.
The ship's fuel catches a spark, and blossoms into a raging fireball that blasts the Walrus into a wild spin - worse yet, it fills the hangar with an expanding cloud of wreckage, every piece of which is a potential fight finisher to the Walrus...
Walrus' only hope is to keep moving, as the relentless cuttlefish stalks him through the drifting debris, with two chunks of loading crane clasped in its telekinetic tendrils.
And so he pushes himself off girders, and takes shelter behind spinning sheets of hull plate, waiting for the slightest opportunity to counterattack.
Kicking out into midair, he lines up a clear shot at the cuttlefish and unloads both barrels of his shotgun - but the fiendish mollusc stops the shot dead and casts it aside like birdseed.
It looks like options are running out for the Walrus, desperately beating air with his tail as the cuttlefish lines up the two lethal-looking metal gantries for a vicious strike...
The walrus manages to vault himself over a tumbling segment of rocketship, and escapes the scissoring telekinetic attack. Yet each escape he makes, however skilled, is more and more desperate.
Before long, the Delegation gets in a truly brutal blow, sailing a Grand Piano down from a cargo palette and smashing it square into the chest of the walrus. It follows up with a Tuba and several cymbals, leaving the walrus battered and flailing in a cloud of sticky blood globules.
Seeing the delicious opportunity to destroy its opponent mentally as well as physically, the cuttlefish initiates telepathic invasion of the Walrus' mind...
BIG MISTAKE, MOTHERFUCKER
Taking advantage of the split-second pause in the Delegation's onslaught while the Japanese contender is reeling from the nightmarish feedback of its botched telepathic attack, the Walrus takes a mighty leap off a drifting engine block and finally closes with his enemy.
The cuttlefish's telekinetic attacks are useless with its assailant at such close range, and so it flails in terror with its soft, pale tentacles. This is the fight the Walrus' arcade machine mind has been waiting for, ever since the H-bombs fell on North Island...
As a cheer erupts in the bar, the Antipodean Antagonist unleashes an astonishingly brutal one-two combo that pulverises the Delegation's telekinesis glands, putting any further rocket-throwing firmly out of the question.
Gushing ichor and losing power rapidly, the creature takes a monstrous pummeling from the unhinged brute in the stained white vest. Against the sheer muscle and ferocity of the Walrus, it has little to offer up in defense.
But it thinks. As the fists smash into its delicate electronics, it thinks fast. It thinks through the code that flooded its neural pathways when it attempted to attack the Walrus' mind, and ransacks its databases for matches.
With a sinister blue glow in its eyes, the Delegation loads a list of ancient cheat codes and malware into its mental buffers, and patiently takes its lumps....
What a goddman horrible way to go. The twisted mind of the Walrus, having soldiered through 200 years of madness, is fried mercilessly with a ceaseless torrent of malicious code designed to eviscerate the ancient arcade machines of Old Tokyo.
The Delegation, being the pinnacle of Japanese technological culture, held within its labyrinthine mind the hard binary behind every video game ever made - including Taito's New Zealand Story.
By gutting the Walrus of the sole strand of coherence that had ordered its nightmare consciousness, the code attack unravels the fractured, self-sustaining psychosis that formed its soul.
It is at peace now.
Until we get it working again.
Ladies and gentlemen, concluding the eighth fight and the first round of Zoofights IV: Timefights, I present to you:
Here's how things stand in the tournament at the end of the first round;