Great Molenko (MM) vs. Rakkaden (Hyper)

[HyperGFreak]

That tells me to never cut my penis off and send it to someone. If it returns to me, still wrapped in pink ribbon, then I’ll suddenly have an urge to upgrade a kaiju I made. ^_^ Inspirational burst there, your April Fools prank...

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Rakkaden is in pain, yes. But what hurts him in even more, deep down in his insectoid heart, is the apparently overly short post his higher being foe has just made. That was just plain cruel. Rakkaden is used to animosity, but this blow strikes the kaiju to his very heart and brings tears to his evil eyes. The fury drives him out of his pain, and he summons up a whip, lashing out with it and sending Milenko’s spikes flying every which way.

Showing how insects can jump exceptionally high, Rakkaden bends his knees and springs up, clamping his serrated claw around Milenko’s head and bringing him down – careful to avoid the nose. Pinning the clown to the ground with his blade, Rakkaden then begins to tighten his claw’s grasp, slowly yet inexorably. And the demon is unable to stop it. The crushing force grows every stronger, Milenko’s skull resisting, the serrated edges sinking into flesh. Pinkish and yellowish mush starts to seep out of the claw’s edges. Finally, something gives with a crack, and Rakkaden relinquishes. This in itself is also a difficult task. With sickening thunks and squishes, the claw rips itself free from the crushed mess that is Milenko’s head, trails of blood and brain juice following it.

Springing up again, Rakkaden folds his legs at their knees and locks the serrations together, to form one long spike pointing straight down beneath him. Then, like the Lance o’ Longinus right outta Ayanami’s sexy little hand, he plunges powerfully towards Milenko’s chest.

[Inferno Rodan]

One more post each.

[Monster Master]

Milenko snarls in rage and weakily stabs his hands into his pocket, pulling out a handful of sand. The clown demon throws it upward at his foe, and slowly, Rakkaden's focus is lost. His eyes close slowly and his legs part again as the sleeping powder takes affect. Seeing this, Milenko made time to stand up, catching the insect as it fell. With one hand, Milenko held onto his foe and began to spin, repeatedly slamming its body on the ground, chunks of flesh and exoskeleton falling off.

After the tenth slam, Milenko haults his thunderous slams and hurls Rakkaden off into the distance, and at the same time, throwing ballons and razor cards.

[HyperGFreak]

Heh. This one’s over already? No matter. I look forwards to the rematch you offered. Anyway, good match and all that sportsmanship jazz, though may I suggest, when upgrading Milenko, you add a more gore-splattering weapon? This match somehow didn’t get too nasty, in my opinion. But hey, why not play with the clown figure? I suggest a pogo stick that can transform into a jackhammer-drill at the touch of the button. ^_^

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Somewhere on the outskirts of Paris, a fat-ass guy was sitting there, somehow oblivious going on deeper in the city, and cooking croissants to feed to overweight little brats. As the umpteenth fat kid stole his good cooking, he paused, wiped the sweat from his flabby brow, and listened. Something let out a high shriek. He took a deep breath and pulled up his limited English. “Parents, keep your...children, that’s the word, yes? Keep them under control-”

Something large and blue, a gargantuan insect, smashed into the ground, somehow landing on its feet, staggering around, smashing humans into mush with its spiked feet, and shaking the ground with thunderous steps. Some pink gore splashed over the man’s face, and the curtain of his booth’s roof fell and pinned him to the ground.

The insect appeared weakened. He somehow managed to straighten his legs, stand up straight, and turn back into the city, before flinging back his head and unleashing a mighty screech. The fat man went deaf then, and would stay like that to the end of his days.

From the prone position on the ground, the man saw massive playing cards come flying in. For a second, he thought it caused by too much beer and a hallucination. Then the massive cards stabbed straight into the insect’s long neck, sending gore flying, and the man knew he really was drunk. Especially when giant balloons soared overhead to explode. The world went white, with little flashing stars, and the cries of the insect. There was something splattering down all over. The fat man laughed and enjoyed the stupor.

Then a deluge of liquid landed on his arm, and the pain was excruciating. This was all very real now, and his vision cleared. His arm was nothing more than a steaming stump, eaten off by acid. He screamed, then looked up to see the insect with his frontal armor melted. He screamed again.

Rakkaden screamed again, this time in vengeful fury. He could feel the cosmic forces, of the figures using them as pawns, maneuvering to end this. And he was ready to do so. Rakkaden throws his ass forwards, and throws out three more strands of silk. Milenko is far away, at the city’s center, but a tall, capering clown is easily aimed at.

He empties his spinnerets fully, and throws the silk far forwards to loop around the arms of the demon. Then he reels in. His ass isn’t working too well, being pushed well beyond the limits in that last attack. But still, he pulls the clown in, dragging the kicking figure towards him. Milenko leaves a path of carnage in his passing, buildings crushed and kicked aside, a valley of death.

Rakkaden clashes his weapons together, and out emerges a shield, disc-like, before him. Milenko is already in his clacking face, the clown’s body covered in debris. With a malicious shriek, Rakkaden pulls Milenko head-first into the shield. It ripples, and sparks fly, energy starting to crackle over Milenko. The shield tries to repel the clown, but the unmovable object has met an unstoppable force.

The place of contact begins to pulse rapidly, and besides the aforementioned effects, lightning begins to pulse around the shield towards that area. Then, slowly but surely, Milenko’s entire body begins to be pulled through the barrier of force. He starts to jerk with excruciating pain, and the smell of burning flesh fills the air.

His forehead passes through; it starts to brown and crisp, and sparks play over it. Then his eyes are in the shield; they shut and roll, sparking – now the nose, crisping – suddenly, past the neck, onto the shredded clothing, which turn brown and start to steam-

And suddenly, it’s all done. Rakkaden, exhausted drops Milenko onto the ground, where the clown lies prone. The demon’s flesh is burnt black all over his entire body; ragged clothing covers this, scorched, and it smells like a barbecue. The flesh is chapped and cracked; blood oozes out of small fissures in his flesh.

Rakkaden needs food to replenish his energy. And there is only one way for him to do that, seeing as there is only one nearby supply. His stomach unfurls, and it grasps Milenko, hefts him, and pulls the entire clown, bodily, into the stomach of Rakkaden. With a squelching noise, Milenko leaves parts of his back on the earth.

The clown barely fits in the stomach of the insect, and has to be squished in. Rakkaden can feel the struggles of his victim, and begins to feel sick, but his digestive acids start to kick in. This, he knew, could kill or save him. Within, his foe had access to internal organs and the like.

The insect slumps still before the horrified citizens of Paris, waiting for it all to end.

[Inferno Rodan]

With his own belly full of fried French (not to be confused with french fries), Gwangi belches contently.

Well, that was a helluva fight right there. But, I've gotta give the win to Rakkaden, albeit just barely.

So, Rakkaden... FINISH HIM!

[HyperGFreak]

Well, well, well. Hey, what’s up with that? I won? Well, then, MM, I’ll give ya a clap on the back and a handshake too. One win for each of us – let’s wipe the slate clean, shall we?

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Rakkaden’s pain slowly ends, the painful tears threatening to flood the insect’s eyes fading into oblivion. The struggles in his stomach cease; he slumps, feeling like one who’s just been sick and finally emptied their gastric juices onto the ground by vomiting. Slowly but surely, Milenko is dissolved by his stomach juices.

For the next few hours, Rakkaden sits there. He digests the clown, and he is rejuvenated. And so, when the militia finally shows up, quite belatedly, he’s ready. The horrified soldiers see not just a massive wounded insect, but rather a bulging, grotesque amalgam of Rakkaden and a massive, demented clown.

They die with strangled, half-muted cackles and jokes about hot dogs ringing in their ears, as the mutant beast tramples them into the ground, blasts them, and smites them into the oblivion of death, all the while delivering one liners. This new creation is ready to destroy the world. Rakkaden has triumphed.

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So, MM, about that rematch ya wanted...you got a ref yet?