The fans were deafening, the hum of speakers charged the air around the opposing stages… it was about to begin… the most metal concert in the history of the world, sponsored by Deus Ex Machina brand  Goblin Juice (It’s Goblin-riffic).

Dethklok strolled out toward the fans, faces white, and without even acknowledging the crowd, began to shred the minds of their enamored fans. The violent, brilliant music ripped the air apart, and their opponents were nowhere to be seen. The DMC fans called to their masters, yelling “Krauser-sama! Camus! Jagi-sama! Where are you?!”

They watched from the shadows.

Soichi Negishi was sweating bullets, the legendary guitar in his hands calling for blood. “No way… there’s to many people… and it’s Dethklok! The biggest band in the world!” He swallowed hard and turned to flee, and found himself face to face with his manager. One glare and a shove was all it took, and the concert battle began.

Dethklok continued to tear the stadium apart, their fans becoming even more worked up. One of the Dethklok supporters made just one comment, just an off-hand remark about how Krauser was too afraid to face Nathan Explosion…

The fight erupted.

Fans bashed in faces, fists met bone and blood, and bodies began falling. However, without the music to fire them up, the DMC fans were quickly being pushed back.

It was then that a rumble shook the DMC stage. A coffin burst from the floorboards of the right side of the stage, and out walked Jagi, ready to play. Another coffin burst through the stage in the middle of the back, and out came Camus, screaming and drumming at air, ready to tear it all apart.

The third… didn’t go as planned. The third coffin sprung through the stage… and kept going afterwards. It sailed through the air, and came crashing down in the middle of the brawling fans. The crowd retreated, and even Dethklok sopped between songs to observe.

Out from the coffin, covered in the blood of Dethklok fans as well as his own, burt Krauser, who screamed at the top of his lungs, “I AM THE DEMON KING!!!” 

Fans brought him a chord, plugged him in in the middle of the crowd, and the music resumed, as did the fight. This time, however, it wasn’t the same. The Detroit Metal City fans surged with fresh energy and the taste of blood, and raved the Dethklok fans, pushing towards the stage.

The manager made his move, adjusting his glasses. “Not yet, young band. My boys need this concert… and that guitar.” With that, he pressed a button on his phone, signaling the release of the captured beast caged beneath the pit. However, he wasn’t the only manager who had decided to strike, as a beer bottle crashed over Dethklok’s Manager’s head. There stood the manager of DMC.

The two stared each other down, wordless, sharing a deep understanding of the other’s tactics… and began to make out like crazy. Yep. That’s the power of Dethklok AND DMC.

However, even as the two of them lost interest in the world, the chimera rose from the depths, tearing through DMC fans and Dethklok fans alike. 

This did not phase Dethklok.

DMC stared at the forty foot tall half-lion, half-goat amalgamation with a king Cobra’s head for a tail, and Negishi, for a brief moment, feared the creature. Then he remembered who he really was. Johannes Krauser II.

The beast roared mightily at Krauser, lunging for a meal, and Krauser’s guitar cried out in madness as he swung, clubbing the beast across the nose. The chimera stumbled towards the DMC stage, turning back on Krauser as the Cobra tail struck as Jagi. Jagi sidestepped, and whistled to Camus. He looked up, and saw the snake… a bigger version of the ones he already had. It would be his. 

In seconds, Camus had the Cobra by the fangs, head-butting it into submission as Jagi scaled the beast, searing it with his flaming breath. It howled in pain and the two front heads lunged again for Krauser, and thanks to a massive effort by tons of die-hard fans, was slowed, forced to look him in the eyes as the fans held the flaming beast back. Krauser looked into its eyes and then reared back, spitting into one of the lion’s eyes. It howled, looking at its meal… no, at Krauser… its new master, and knelt. Krauser climbed atop his new steed, still ablaze, and Dethklok and its fans could no longer focus. 

As the flaming chimera destroyed all in sight, its masters riding on its back, Detklok boarded their private Blade Copters, leaving behind the deed to Mordhaus. 

Long into the night, after all the fans had been massacred, Krauser yelled, Camus drummed, Jagi laughed, and two managers still had yet to realize anything had happened.

Congratulations, Detrioit Metal City, our Champion of the Week!

Also, congratulations to GreenNinjaN for winning a THIRD vote for his creativity and style! Go to DMC! -GG

Yup, I’m late, wanna fight about it? Rough week. Start of the fall schedule always makes me a little disoriented, and now the first exams are coming and so forth, so I’m stumbling a bit. I’ll get my footing, so just bear with me, Goblinites.

Now, onto the main event…

The museum was silent, save the low hum of the air conditioning unit and the occasional dull footsteps of the night guard. Originally, there had been three night guards, But two feline-themed jewel hunters had convinced them to take a little mid-shift nap, tied up in a corner.

She smiled as she pulled the trigger, sending a new zip-line sailing across the room, dangerously close to the security lasers. Danger wasn’t new to her, and as Black Cat wrapped her legs around the wire and began to shimmy towards her newest toy, she smiled like a kitty having its ears rubbed just the right way.

However, in the rafters of the second floor, just under the alarm-rigged, heavy-duty glass roof sat a glowering feline, gently petting her informant, a fat calico cat named Joyce. Catwoman was not surprised at a second burglar, no on the contrary, she had planned for one. What she hadn’t planned for was some knock-off hussy who passed more for a skunk than a cat. She growled discontentedly and prepared to pounce, releasing Joyce, who scampered away from the soon-to-be battle.

Falicia Hardy had made it to the glass, and she pulled from her belt a small PDA style device whch stuck to the glass. “Thank God for my Deus Ex Machina Brand Radio Wave Alarm Diffuser,” said Black Cat appreciatively, having purchased it for the low, low price of $39.99 from a local Deus Ex Machina Brand discount emporium. Shop there today!

 With that, she made quick work of the case, but as she reached for the Cat’s Eye Jewel, her hand was stuck by the sharp sting of a whip. Felicia dropped from her chord to the floor, landing soundlessly while still avoiding the trip lasers, and glowered up at her opponent. She was surprised to see a skankier cat-themed burglar who was obviously past her prime. 

Felicia smirked. “Well well, who have we here? Here to take my prize, Grandma?” said Black Cat in a sharp but velvety tone.

Catwoman remained perched on the Bastet statue near the glass display case, and picked her paw in a bored manner. “Mind your tongue, kitten… simply give me what’s mine and I won’t have to stain that ugly white hair red. That would just get messy, you know. Now leave me to my gem. We both know I deserve it more, and besides all that, I’ve got the better cat theme, you little tramp.”

Hardy glowered and readied her grappling hooks to take to the ceiling. No one insulted the title of Black Cat. “I’m more catlike than you know, hag.” With that, she launched one of the devices to a second floor railing which propelled her towards the monochromatic feline thief. Catwoman thought the move ‘cute’ at best, and predictable, and made to move out of the way, but found her boot stuck beneath Bastet’s headpiece and instead took Felicia’s feet to her midsection. Luckily, she grabbed onto Black Cat as she attacked, propelling them both away from the lasers and up to the second floor’s balconies. 

Black Cat tried to throw her off, but soon realized that Catwoman had another of her gadgets: the sharp claws meant for climbing that doubled as knives in a pinch. Catwoman dug her claws in with one hand, raking her claws across Felicia’s back and hoping to the ledge before the Cat could recover. Black Cat was close behind.

The two began circling one another, attacking occasionally with sweeping kicks and claw swipes, but then, finally, Catwoman made her move. She lunged, intending to grab Hardy by the shirt and end this before the Guards woke up and got suspicious. Black Cat had been waiting for this, and grabbed her by the arm, spinning her around and grappling her. Fighting with Spider-Man had made her resourceful like this, knowing how to read punches. With him, you were lucky if you got to take a second swing.

Catwoman knew this move all too well, having seen it frequently while fighting the Bat. Unfortunately, it seemed Black Cat was no ordinary girl, and Catwoman found her grip more than a little difficult to escape. Catwoman let out a light yowl, trying to escape.

Felica chuckled. “Poor kitty… did our play time hurt you? Guess you’re just too old to play cat and mouse… maybe you should head home and get some rest, Granny.” She said, tying her hands together.

Catwoman chuckled. “I wasn’t in pain, you idiot… I was calling for help.” She said, looking to the rafters. Black Cat followed her gaze and was surprised to notice a dozen bright eyes peering at her from the darkness. They seemed less than happy, and hissed menacingly as some prepared to pounce.

Things had become too ‘interesting’ for Felicia Hardy, who had dealt with as much as she cared to. She turned towards the railing and hopped over, nimbly landing between lasers yet again, and peered into the case. The empty case. Where was the jewel?!

Catwoman laughed as her feline friends chewed through her bonds. She used her whip to clamber to the rafters and stroked Joyce lovingly as the cat relinquished the Cat’s Eye Jewel. “Looking for this, love? Afraid you won’t be seeing it again, sweety. I guess we know who really is the best now, eh kitten? Ciao.” 

Felicia swung to the rafters angrily, but then found that not one set of ductwork was open, but all of them, and even with her enhanced hearing, she couldn’t tell which duct Catwoman was using to flee, as the others were full of escaping cats. 

The room was empty, but Hardy smiled and sighed, instead deciding to go with whatever else she could find. “You win some, you lose some. It’s the nature of the game.” Once her bag was filled, she too swung off into the night. It was hours before even the guards noticed there had been a disturbance.

Congratulations to Catwoman, our Champion of the Week! Anyone have an idea for next week?! COMMENT OR EMAIL ME!

Hey guys! Here we are, one week after the initial poll opening, and I have to say, at least I have some votes. I am a little sad that no one wrote their opinions as to why their choice won, though. Oh well. Next week is another week.

The crowd cheered, and Vash holstered his gun, scratching the back of his head. Even still, after being hated by so many, praise made the blond-haired gunman a little bashful. For a moment, he imagined the women of the crowd embracing him, envisioned a night of celebratory drinking and new friends.

That vision was short lived, as Spike then locked onto the red coated demon and squeezed the trigger, unleashing the machine guns of the Swordfish II.

The crowd screamed in fright, the bullets sending up a huge storm of sand, blinding both Vash and Spike. However, Vash had the advantage here… hidden in the storm, he could hear the Swordfish’s engine now, so he reloaded his magnum and prepared himself.

Spike knew that no bounty of that size would go down so easily. He knew to keep his aces hidden, to wait for a moment to strike. He would watch his prey now, watch him react. If he learned his foe, it would be easier to best him. But watch as he might, no one exited the cloud, no one but the crowd ran, and as he circled, the cloud began to disperse, revealing an empty desert.

“Hmm… not bad… pretty quick. Question is… did he duck into the crowd…? Or…” Spike circled around again, getting lower to the desert, eyes trained on where his target had stood before. Spike knew no one could have fled that fast… no one. He decided to throw an Ace, hoping to catch a Joker. He fired the plasma cannon.

In a flash, the white-blue plasma ripped through the desert, tearing the dunes asunder. Under the sand, there were old cars, skeletons of long dead Thomases, and then, in a flash, just under the plasma stream, a flash of red.

Vash had taken his chance, and just barely avoided the massive weapon. He hopped to the top of an old car and then leapt onto the Swordfish as it rocketed by. He latched on with his mechanical hand and called to the pilot. “Why hello there! Not much of a day for sightseeing, is it stranger? How about you just head home, okay? I’m kinda busy…” Vash said with a goofy smile.

Spike glowered at the man hanging to the Swordfish II’s wing. Was he for real? Could this freak really be worth that many Woolongs? But Spike would not underestimate this man… after all, this guy had somehow evaded machine gun rounds, hidden under the sand, evaded his plasma cannon, and leapt onto his ship. Still, Spike grinned deviously, eager for a challenge. “Sure, why not? I was just taking my girl for a spin, anyway.”

With that, Spike did a aileron roll. (Yes yes, I know, do a barrel roll! Can’t let you do that, Star Fox. That’s not even a real barrel roll. Look it up.) Vash hung on for dear life, and endured through the spin, now landing atop the cockpit. “Hey now, that’s not very nice~!” said Vash sarcastically, his arm transforming into a machine gun for a second time.

Spike looked up in horror. “YOU IDIOT! DO-” But Vash had pulled the trigger, shooting around the cockpit, trying to pry open the glass casing. Instead, however, he accidentally triggered the escape pod. A rush of gas deafened the two as the pod spiraled off from the craft, crashing into the desert sand. The Swordfish II sailed off into the distance, ridding Spike of a great asset and giving him another: rage.

Vash, afraid for the man’s life, pried open the glass capsule, from which Spike immediately lunged, swinging his legs at Vash in anger. Vash stumbled back, falling to the sand, and looked up, seing the man’s silhouette as he leapt from the capsule, swinging his leg down in a deadly strike.

Vash blocked with his metal arm, and felt many of the parts bend and give way. He then rolled back nimbly, taking the half-second to reload his magnum. Spike drew his pistol.

A flurry of bullets followed, ripping through the red coat and the dark mess of hair, ricocheting off the capsule and filling the sand with holes. Once Vash’s gun was empty, Spike began his assault. Vash dodged the first few blows, but eventually found himself missing the man’s quick footwork, and missed a boot’s heel coming straight for his chin.

Spike grinned as the man called Vash spiraled towards the sand, readying to fire another volley. But Vash was no slouch, and hit the dust with the grace of a ballerina, hitting his ever-weakening left arm, forcing it into a partial transformation. It wouldn’t be accurate, but it was enough. He riddled the sand with shots, sending dust into Spike’s eyes. But Spike knew this tactic. It was meant to stop him, create a moment for escape. So he lunged forward, into the dust, and found… nothing.

Vash stood behind him, and whistled appreciatively. “You’re really fast, Mr. Bounty Hunter! But I am Vash The Stampede, and I’m just that much faster.” Vash said, putting his newly loaded magnum to the back of Spike’s head.

Spike froze, not believing that someone actually got the jump on him. “…so then… guess this is the end… unbelievable…” Vash instead, began to laugh. “You think I’m that type? I hate killing. I’ve never done it, and I never will, either. That’s what a certain woman taught me.”

Spike found himself offended, then relieved, then put it all together. He knew the man’s pain, trying to get by, getting a reputation he scarcely deserved, following a mantra partially because of a girl he cared about. “…She gone?” Vash knew that he understood. This fight was over. “…yeah. Long time ago now.” Vash lowered the gun.

Spike turned and faced the man, and the two spent a second studying one another. They were very different men, living very differently… but today at least, they understood each other. Spike walked past Vash, shoving his hands in his pockets. “… gotta go get my ship. Watch your back, Humanoid Typhoon. If she’s wrecked, I’ll be back fr that bounty. I won’t lose if that day comes, either.”

Vash smiled, heading back towards January, calling back to him, “Stop in January tonight, Bounty Hunter! I’ll buy you a drink!” He said with a wave.

“It’s Spike. See you around, space cowboy.” He shot back with a lazy wave.

“Be seeing you around, Spike! Find that girl of yours… life is short after all, and this world is made of Love and Peace! Enjoy it while you can!”

The two both smiled and walked their separate ways, each heading for terrible pain… and one for death. But those words resounded in Spike’s head long after, and he continued to hope that one day, his world would indeed be made of Love and Peace.

We have our Champion! Congratulations, Vash the Stampede!

Spike got next to NO votes. There was lots of votes for a draw, so I made it close. Plus, I figured that’s what Vash would opt for, anyway. Until next week, Space Cowboys, remember that this world is made of Love and Peace! -GG

I really hate problems like apartments. Keeps me from posting like I want. Glitch of the Week comes late Sunday, guys.

Well, the votes were few, but still, I will post the results with pride.

Along the market-filled streets of Gl’Chi Gobla, the Prince wandered through the booths, taking in the sites and sounds of the town he would have otherwise ran screaming through, left with no time for frivolity. Thanks to the rivers, the Dahaka was kept at bay.

It was very… peaceful. A peace that had been too long in its arrival.

A peace that had made the Prince slack in his wariness, missing the white-robed figure following him from building to building, perched on the ledges like a hawk whenever the Prince he followed stopped to browse merchandise.

The Prince stopped, smiling seductively to a pretty young fruit vendor, asking her idly about the price of her pomegranites, having been told once by a princess how much women loved them.

Altair edged out onto a wooden perch and checked his hidden blade. It slid in its mechanism as if it was brand new and had never seen blood.

He lept.

In a sudden crash, Altair pinned the Prince to the ground, inserting the hidden blade into the Prince’s heart like a knife in warm bread. It was over.

It was then that the sand flowed from his dagger, pulling Altair back into the air. The Prince felt the air flow back into him, then out again, watched his conversation undo itself.

This time, he simply walked past the booth and smiled at the girl, taking note of the assassin above as he pretended to wink at the girl playfully.

However, Altair was quick to notice that his mark’s mood had changed, and decided to back off, concealing himself in the crowd below. Sure enough, soon it was the Prince who was looking for his tail and Altair who had his eyes on his target again.

Altair slipped through the crowd, closing in on the man.

The Prince headed for an edge of the town, figuring that if he was by the water’s edge, the assassin would have less space to hide from him.

He was wrong.

The Prince heard a scream and turned around, seeing a dead body on the ground. He looked to the rooftops, and then suddenly, he felt a hand on his back, the sharp pains of a blade entering his back.

Cursing under his breath, the Prince let the sands dull his pain, pulling Altair away. Now he saw him, hiding in the crowd. He wouldn’t let him escape this time. He would have to play it cool and retaliate, his sands not being able to go back far enough to undo the other man’s death.

The woman screamed again. For a second time, the Prince turned to see the body, but the second he felt the assassin grown near, he grabbed his hand and flung him over the railing and into the river.

For a frozen second, Altair inhaled sharply, taken aback as he realized he was heading for the river… heading for the end of his life. However, if he was to die… he would claim his mark as well.

So, less still less than a foot from the Prince, Altair drew a throwing knife and let fly, hitting the Prince right between the eyes.

The Prince was sweating now. He knew he would soon run out of sand, and that no matter how he threw the assassin, the throwing blade would still end his life.

For the third time, the sands removed a blade from the Prince, pulling Altair back into the Prince’s hand, back into Altair’s striking position. The Prince knew he would have to be fast.

Altair had him. He knew the Prince would look to the screaming crowd, these nobles always did stupid things. He moved in, preparing his hidden blade, keeping it hidden from the crowd, closing in on the Prince.

It was here that the Prince finished his time reversing, suddenly whipping around, drawing his blades and slashing at the assassin. Damage woud have ravaged his body, but the Animus machine forgave Desmond’s error, simply lowering his synchronization. Both Desmond and his ancestor were shocked at the Prince’s speed.

Altair drew his parrying blade, and the crowd fled from their duel, watching as the swords flashed and clanged, the two men locked in spark-inducing combat, their faces strained with effort.

The Prince saw as Altair left an opening, trying to defend himself. He drew his blade back, prepared to rid himself of this assassin by exploiting this weakness.

It was just as Altair had wanted him to do, exploiting the weakness Altair and Desmond had let the Prince see. In a flash, Altair parried the strike and dove in, slashing the Prince open in one swift moment.

The Prince was furious, watching as Altair withrew his attack, watching his stomach sew itself back together, and saw the opening, again, but this time, held back, turning and fleeing the assault.

The Prince knew that a throwing blade was coming. Altair hadn’t used it on him in the current ‘now,’ his previous use having been undone, so he knew the assassin would rely on it now, thinking it still an ace in the hole. Altair did indeed sling his arm, letting fly with a blade, and watched in amazement as the Prince slide to the right, the blade instead sticking in a wooden booth frame.

Altair was not done. Neither was Desmond. Neither was the Prince, relying on the last of his sand to get him away from this nightmarish attacker. Altair pursued, not letting the Prince slip into the crowd, as he so desired. Up onto the booths Altair flew, then to a perch, and then, the rooftops. He spotted the Prince with his Eagle Vision and let fly with another throwing blade.

The Prince hadn’t expected an attack from above, not so soon. He used the last of his sand, pulling the blade from his brain, retracing his steps to a weapon’s booth.

Now, as Altair let fly, he saw a glint of metal as the Prince had grabbed up a falchion and hurled it in Altair’s direction, knocking the blade to the ground and seriously wounding Altair. Desmond watched at the screen turned white and red, loosing focus more and more, and fought to maintain this crucial state.

The Prince kept running, looking for his pursuer again on the rooftops, expecting him to be flustered. He so expected this, in fact, that he didn’t notice as Altair lept from the nearby hay bale, drawing his longsword. The Prince watched, gasping in horror, as the hooded, hawk-like figure drove the blade through him.

The Dagger of Time dropped from the Prince’s hands. The hawk closed his talons around his prey, and as people screamed, he fled to the rooftops and in minutes… he was gone.

Pictured: One HUEG picture. Open it full size if you don't believe me.

Congratulations to Altair: Champion of the Week!

Got a great fight you’d like to suggest? I NEED SOME. Send your fights to me, I’ll give you the credit!!! -GG

Welcome back, my Bloodlusting Goblinites!

As you know, this week we have a very exciting challenge on our hands: a treasure hunting contest between the phenomenal Indiana Jones and the astounding Lara Croft! Who will grab the Golden Goblin and claim victory?!

Unfortunately, due to the Polldaddy brand FAILURE generator, I couldn’t access the poll from thursday morning till late last night, so I had no way of ever giving an edge to our battlers or even viewing their progress!

So, let’s just say the Deus Ex Machina brand Adventure Camera was disrupted by the Polldaddy Virus, and had to be repaired!

Now, let’s review the footage.

It seems that due to Lara Croft’s astounding wealth and help from her crew, she actually reached the East Entrance to the Temple of Three Paths before Indy reached his entrance, but she then got stuck at the temple gate!

The gate was a large stone door with an ancient inscription on it. Lara had to run it by various translators, as opposed to Indiana. When Indy arrived at the West Gate, he looked at the inscription and recited the passage of Goblin Lore…

“What is a man?” Indy pondered this, then raised his goblet and muttered, “A miserable little pile of secrets! But enough talk… have at you!” And with that, he chucked his goblet at the door, shattering it. The door then rumbled and raised, revealing the first path, deep into the temple.

Lara stood there for an hour, shouting, “A pig! A liar! Less awesome than I am, that’s what!!!” Until finally, that nerdy dude from the movies was all like “A miserable little pile of secrets, lol,” and the door raised.

Once inside, the two adventurers found themselves at the mercy of hegu pits of spikes, ferocious animals and spirits, and puzzles that would rattle your feeble little mind.

In one room, the two treasure hunters had to align pillars of light into a spinning crystal surrounded by razor-sharp pendulums, in another, they had to outrun collapsing walls that were the only thing standing between them and another terrible sequel! Then, the ultimate challenge… torture.

As they entered one of the last rooms, there was an ancient game… one where you pit soldiers against soldiers on a chess style board… and they had to play against a twelve year old kid on Xbox live.  Lara, who had been dealing with this kind of person for more than a decade, strolled easily through the task. Indiana nearly went insane, but then realized he was less annoying and pretentious than Shia Labeouf and shot the kid, whistled, and went on his way.

Lara rushed into the chamber at the center of the temple, a large, sun-filled room with a huge podium at the middle, atop it, the golden idol. She smirked, having gotten there first, and noted that the exit was the third path of the temple, leading North, to the exit. She approached the podium, victorious, and claimed her prize… and upon inspection, simply found it to be one of Harrison Ford’s thousands of awards.

The award had been placed there by Indiana about an hour prior, and it had been a perfect counterweight for the Golden Goblin statue he now held.  He had exited the temple’s North Path with ease. After all, his carrer and popularity had survived Kingdom of the Crystal Skull! What could POSSIBLY harm Indy after THAT?

Meanwhile, the doors at the temple’s central chamber had closed with a THUD, leaving Lara stranded as the sand and snakes poured in from the ceiling, completely blocking out the sun.

Pictured: Glitchy Goblin's Champion of the Week!

That’s right, ladies and gents. With an overwhelming 3 to 1 advantage in the votes, Indiana Jones is this week’s Champion of the Week!

Until next time, Goblinites, watch out for Shia LaFAIL. -GG

Rockman let fly with his mega buster, to which Samus retaliated with a wide blast of Plasma energy. The two shots collided and exploded into a shower of sparks, and so the fight began.

For a while, it was an interchange of energy, Samus dodging past Metal blades and firing Missiles, Rock ducking beneath Volt Driver shots and launching Rolling Cutters.

Finally, Rock was getting low on health, and Samus had lost about half, thanks to her ridiculous amount of Energy Tanks. Samus then decided to make a mad dash for her ship. Inside, she could repair her armor and use her ship to finish this fight. In a few short steps, she began to glow and hum, beginning her boost dash.

Rock, however, put two and two together and without hesitation activated his Time Stopper. The air glittered as he rushed forward, past the still and silent warrior, drinking an E Tank as he went and placing the empty canister beneath Samus’ feet.

He then readied his shot and the second his Flash Stopper ran out of energy, Rock switched to his Crash Bombs and fired on Samus’ ship.

Samus, who had been in the process of charging her dash, suddenly saw the blue robot seemingly teleported in front of her, and didn’t notice the titanium canister beneath her running feet. She slid on the rolling can, and fell, morphing into her morph ball form as she went.

The Crash Bomb connected, metal claws digging into the hull, and a second later, as Samus rolled towards her enemy, the crash bomb exploded, knocking the ship offline!

Samus was infuriated, and as Rockman looked around, wondering where his foe had gone, he saw only a large ball rolling his way. He fired shots into it, to no avail, and it rolled past, leaving three small glowing items behind.

The Morph Ball Bombs detonated, injuring Rockman, who switched to his Atomic Fire just as a transmission came through. It was Dr. Light! “Rock, I’ve sent Rush to help you! You’ve taken on advanced robots before, you can do this!” Rush soon landed, barking at the ball. Samus regained her normal form and eyed the robotic dog quizzically.

Rock activated Rush Jet, and hopped on the dog’s back. From here, Rock launched a full-out aerial strike on Samus, who retaliated with every bean in her arsenal. Rockman had the edge, and continued his onslaught, pushing Samus back with every blast of Atomic Fire, Metal Blade, and Charge Shot. He even began dropping Bubble Lead on her, which began messing with her visor and targeting system.*

Samus had had enough. Again, she ran forward dodging the robot’s attacks, and began to glow and hum. Rockman continued to fire, but to no avail. Her speed boost had been activated. She ran at time-obliterating speed, stopping just beneath Rush Jet. Then, she jumped. The super-fast jump propelled her up, up, and further still. She collided with Rush jet, breaking him clean in two, and sending Rock hurtling toward the ground.

As Samus landed, she saw Rock discarding another empty E Tank. Rock readied his weapon, blind with anger. Samus rushed forward, activating her speed boost again. However, rock was ready, using Time Man’s Time Slow.

He thought it would give him the edge, but he was wrong.

Samus rushed forward at inconceivable speed, and Rock could barely even process it as Samus Boost Dashed clean through the small blue bot.

Damaged heavily, Megaman turned to face his opponent, finding himself facing a devastating weapon’s barrel… Samus looked down and silently let fly with her Nova Beam.

As the showering sparks subsided, only one warrior was left standing…

Pictured: A 6'2 walking arsenal or destruction.

Samus Aran is Glitchy Goblin’s FIRST Champion of the Week!

Post in the comments who you’d like to see fight next week! I’ll use the one I like best!