Oh, I'm late, the battles have already begun! At least I have more to read. :D


The Mountain-Style (GoT) *urgh*

Hilarious. UFC now stands for Urine Fighting Championship.

Spreadsheet updated:

https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1qaVGfnoiQ3CJcEdYBbg9ICXNieGFV3aaObEOcdF_0nI/edit?usp=sharing

Flush Fury hovered away to the bar, seeking therapy after his brew-tal defeat against Cappucionelle, or to be more precise, against the Ogre she wittingly unleashed upon him with a stream of scalding coffee. It was, in essence, death by Ogre butt.

One of the fighters at the bar casually patted Flush Fury on the back, not to comfort him, but to prank him by placing a joke sticker without raising any suspicion. It reads: "Here for you, every drop of the way."

The bartender began to serve drinks and offer some very corny therapy tips.

Bartender: Don't look so bummed out, Flush Fury. You know, it's all part of the combat.

Flush Fury: I know, I know. I'm fine, really. But, I'd rather you not say the word "bummed", considering an Ogre just crushed me with his! I feel like I've lost all dignity, if such a thing is even possible for a urinal.

Bartender: How does that saying go again? When life gives you lemons, make a lemony urinal cake! It's pointless crying over spilt water. Best to just go with the flow. Be proud! You've got a stream of admirers and you're flushed with potential!

Flush Fury: I guess I did pull off quite an impressive face off. Me, up against a formidable fighter. I should be very proud!

Bartender: You're a standout hovering fixture in a world full of seats! Remember: dry spells don't last! Not for you.

Another fighter at the bar gave Flush Fury a casual pat on the back, placing yet another joke sticker on his porcelain body without him realizing it. This one read: "Where worries go to wash away."

Flush Fury: Thanks for the pep talk. I'm feeling great again! Just being accepted into the Fight Club is an amazing accomplishment. Only the best of the best are part of this exclusive event and I'm one of them.

Bartender: That's the spirit, my friend! You may feel drained right now, but you're never empty. Think positive! The next flush could change everything! Life's too short: make a splash!

Yet another fighter at the bar pats a joke sticker on Flush Fury's body without him noticing it and this one reads: "Quick relief, zero judgement."

LOL! :)

Glad to see the competition has started! Already some amazing fights and looking forward for the next ones

It's me who's a bit bummed, I had my money on the Fury. And I'm a bit scared of Orc cheeks now, after witnessing what they can do to tough and stylish, albeit ever yellowish dank, ceramic.

Could/Should those two be paired up? If I'm missing something here, please ignore this enquiry.

Those were some quick fights, but none the less entertaining. Thanks Doc00075.

I kinda feel for Blobulese and Frodr. Probably very painful.

Cappuchinoelle and Flush Fury having to fight each other made me a little sad. I was hoping to see more of both of them.

The IMDB looks at his approaching opponent (Blaze Chef) and calculates potential forms to take.

Orcha from Chrono Cross :)
Long Jong Silver from Treasure Island :D
Colonel Sanders from KFC o_O
or perhaps Gordon Ramsay :O

Looks like Herpie won the fight. Not bad for an "imposter"...

We are at full swing here. I see that GOG Chan KO'ed poor GOG Bear. At least she received her "Big Game Hunter" achievement. Congratulations to Shiny little trinket.

Thank you Doc. for entreating fights, looking forward to reading further entries.

=========

GOG Bear noticed Private Wojtek, fellow bear in arms and joined him for a friendly chit-roar, complaining how unbearable is the work in gaming industry.

GOG Chan slips her green tea at the bar, while casually browsing internet in search for new rougelikes that could be added to GOG's catalogue.

Neko Hime (taking a break from singing karaoke, badly) cuts into GOG Bear's conversation.
"Is that why competitive games are often so poorly balanced? I mean, take the rouges in any game, they are usually overpowdered and mascarae people in PvP."

Morticia said a short prayer before entering the arena : "Ne fatum nostrum finis sit."
The others followed her, just as determined as she was to prove their courage and skill in combat.

Death and her companions had found prime spots in the stands of the arena. It must be said that people don’t like sitting next to someone brandishing a scythe that could cut you in half with the slightest touch.

The show promised to be magnificent !

The Pole Dance Master is training every day to be ready for his showdown with Crossty.

With his new acrobatics, his agility, and his pole, the Pole Dance Master will be the mosquito that won't let you sleep, the mosquito that bites you where it hurts the most...

P.S. I've attached a photo of the Pole Dance Master training. It's not generated with AI. I don't like to use AI because of copyright issues and its carbon footprint. In fact, it's actually a photo of me with some filters.

As Filibin Scones awaits his match in relative peacefulness, but mostly a constant state of self-love, we must take a moment and wonder. What's with him?

He seems like a regular guy... You wouldn't even pay attention to him on your daily stroll. But then he starts combing his hair. Clumps of oily gel thrown around haphazardly in a 20 meter radius with each swift stroke of the hand.
That gel hits you and makes you angry. Then you get your first glimpse at his presence.
The combover fails to cover up the shine of his empty mountain peak. It amuses you, wiping away the gel-laden anger.
You gaze moves downward.
The admittedly cool shades do draw your interest momentarily, enough to push your gaze even lower.
Then it goes downhill. A shabby-looking studded leather jacket covered with patches of dried up gel or glittering oiliness. Tight leather pants that should never be worn by a man like that. And crocodile leather boots that tap to a rhythm that isn't at all catchy or occasionally flings some of the dripping goo far away beyond the usual danger zone.
He's kind of disgusting really, when you think about it.

But you do think about it. And you look more closely. You notice the sway of his hips is like a pendulum. It draws you in. Takes away your sense. Makes you want to follow the motion. And your body starts to. A little tap. A bit of shifting from foot to foot Tiny little nods of your own. You kind of get it now, the style and the rhythm he oozes.
Then he thrusts once and you're back. He thrusts twice and you realize what happened. Can't believe it, but it happened. You were influenced by his enormous self-confidence. It made you feel full of both desire and shame. Desire of being like him, having that kind of belief in oneself. And shame because how could all of that even be that great?
Unknowingly, an obsession forms.
You want him. Like many others before you, you don't know why, but you gotta have him.
You wave away the thought. Too weird, no reason at all to even think like that. Right?

But then he notices you staring. He pauses his routine, smiles knowingly, lowers his shades slightly and before you even capture the unnatural colours in his eyes, he gives you a baudy wink. That's it. You're done.
For whatever reason you might end conjuring up, you will have that man in your grasp. Love him, kill him, experiment on him etc. You don't know, but he will be yours to do as willed.

But, let's stop for a moment and think about it. Living up until now, he obviously met and was taken away by many before you, many, many times. Yet here he still stands. And none of his former admirers are.. around. Why?
Well, maybe they still are.. around. Or maybe there's something about Filibin Scones that should give you pause on approaching him carelessly.
Too bad it's too late for that now, isn't it?

(Note: The something i thought of was a bit of luck as in fairy's luck and copious amounts of slippery hair gel, in case that wasn't obvious. But we'll see what happens in the fight, because this was an impromptu creation and i'm not that good a creator.)