Last Gladiator Standing III

Wow? Me? Really? Thanks.

2009-03-04T12:19:00.004-06:00

I won? I have to admit, I'm surprised. Well, not really, but my sponsor wanted me to feign surprise. I told 'em, "I'm not a feigner."

Of course I won. I'm Mr. Bennet. I single-handedly ran a secret organization and non-secret paper company all from my menial position of middle management. The other contestants didn't stand a chance against my experience bagging and tagging, not to mention my marskmanship skills. At least Jon leveled the playing field by not allowing me to shoot the fellow contestants. Although, it would have saved us weeks of top quality Internet entertainment.

Anyway, I realize it's been a long, long while since I was actually declared the winner, but I decided I should give a short acceptance and thank you speech. Or rather it was decided for me by my sponsor, Total Synapse, Inc., a division of the late Primatech Paper Company (Which has applied for a government bailout; I'll keep you posted on that).

So, yeah, here I am. I'd like to thank, first and foremost, God, who really had nothing to do with me winning this competition. I mean, if anything, he got in the way by giving my competition so-called "extraordinary" powers. I'm just a mere mortal here. Yet, I still won. Thanks a lot, God.

And then there's my mom, who I know if she were alive today she would still not find a reason to take pride in my accomplisments. "Gladiator? You know, the Johnson's kid was a Marine," I can hear her saying.

Jon, I have to thank him, even though I really don't want to. It turns out, he's actually a good guy. I'm not a fan of good guys. They get in the way of what needs doing. But as far as good guys go, he's a pretty good one. So, thanks Jon.

Thanks to all of you who lost: West, Kon-El, Profesor X, Erifia, Nepharia, Ciera, Hotstuff, Koma, Gyrobo, Merlyn and Sylar. It was really your not winning that won this for me. I couldn't have done it without you.

And to all the judges, I thank whoever gave you the wisdom to choose me for immunity when you did. When you picked one of the other guys, well, shame on you.

Okay, the music is playing, so I just need to get this quick word in, as per my contract, Total Synapse....medical IT services and online marketing. It's a great company, ladies and gentlemen. Send them your money. Thank you, Total Synapse, for all that you've done.

And thank you, the little people, and normal-sized viewers, who watched us do some rather silly stuff over all these weeks.

Last Gladiator Standing III, the Last Gladiator Standing is...

2008-08-05T13:36:00.003-05:00

The challenge has been cast. The gauntlet thrown down. Many have been called, few have answered and only two remain. On the planet Hacknor... On Fire Island D, brave contestants will compete. Who will falter? Who will thrive? Who will be

This is it folks, the grand finale. We have ourselves a winner.

And we’ll let you know who it is right after these messages.

Last Gladiator Standing III was brought to you in part by Budweiser and Clamato.

This is really a product out there everyone.

I mean can you believe it? Who wants beer mixed with tomato and clam juice? Boy, I sure would like some beers but I usually don’t vomit unless I have a couple cases. Maybe if I just mix a little clam and tomato juice in it…

You know, speed things up a little bit.

OK, tomato juice I can understand, maybe. Tomato juice is used in bloody Marys so there’s a precedent there. Plus it’s healthy (you know, unless you’re in the middle of a salmonella outbreak), so maybe you’re thinking you’re getting some vitamins with your booze. That’s good right?

But clam juice? Who decided that clam juice was a tasty beverage? You don’t know what you’re getting in that clam juice either. Is it all clam or did some other bottom feeder get into the mix? Was it cooked? Who knows, it sounds like a crap shoot to me.

Emphasis on crap, am I right, folks?

But seriously.

Now that people are drinking clamato juice, you know because its two great tastes that taste great together, crabapple just takes on a whole new meaning. I wonder what other great flavors are out there just waiting to be discovered. Shellentil juice sounds good. Anyone want some sharkpea? How about floundercorn juice?

Budweiser and Clamato. Mmm mmm good.

OK, we’re back folks. Let’s declare our winner. Our two contestants were Mr. Bennet and Sylar, two strong contestants who fought to the top of the proverbial mountain, each one willing to do what it takes to be the king of that mountain. Or queen, as it were. Yeah, I used that joke again, I went there.

Let’s take a look at the contestants shall we? Here’s the brain eating power getter himself, Sylar:

"Ah-ha!" I said as I jumped out of the shadows, revealing myself in a cat-like pose.

"Sylar!" all three of them exclaimed.

"Activate, cleavage generation powers!" I yelled frustratingly as I pounded on my boobless chest. I looked up and saw that the three of them were staring at me, so I stammered out, "I'll be taking all of your scavenger hunt items now!"

I sat with my new friend, the gladiator, Thunder Thighs, and painted my toe nails with her.

"Omigod, that shade of pink looks like, soooo good on you!" I said to Thunder Thighs.

"Thanks, Sylar. I hope it impresses Jon."

"Jon the Introglockenspeil?"

"Yes, I've got a thing for him. I want to wrap my thunderous thighs around him. He's one sexy gladiator."

And so, my plan, like totally worked! Hancock started beating up the armies, and would keep them at bay until the other contestants came around to complete the challenge themselves! I didn't have to worry about him murdering them all since he's only PG-13! Challenge complete!

Er, wait a minute....

I got into uniform, and damn did my 13 year old body look sexy. Proceeding on, I moved to the gym, where I was greeted by the coach.

"Um, you know, there are male cheerleading uniforms, too, right?" she asked.

"Oh, I know. But those don't do justice to my sexiness."

In the stands sat the hot boy from my class. He looked down at me and laughed. "Hey everyone, look! It's Gabriel Gay!" Everyone laughed at his like, totally awesome insult!

I fired back a comeback. "Oh yeah, well, you're like, totally hot!"

There's a box unchecked! That means I didn't do something! Right? I'm not sure. Well, I should probably do it anyways.

"Hey, any of you guys have a cute robot?" I asked the peeps getting beat up.

"I am a cute robot," a female Telmarine mercenary said, stepping forward. "I am a Terminator. A cyborg with a learning computer, a neural net processor."

"Good enough for me," I said with a shrug, and then blewed her up.

List complete! Now, to go grocery shopping...

That was Sylar everyone, give him (er, her?) a hand. We’ll be right back after this short break.

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You know, you wouldn’t think that someone without any powers would last so long competing here, yet that’s what Bennet did. Unless you consider the ability to tell long, endless stories about the Kraft process a power. Here’s Bennet:

"Sorry," I smiled and waved in an attempt to life their spirits. Then there spirits were indeed raised. I turned to see Prince standing behind me with his magical guitar.

"Prince!" I exclaimed.

"Someone asked for a miracle," he replied, then did a quick dance step and smashed his symboled guitar into the thick glass chamber. It broke into thousands of pieces and Flash and the gang escaped. We ran out of Ming's palace to safety.

There I was met by all the former contestants. They were all enthusiastic to see Flash Gordon and Queen alive and well.

Bone Grinder made his way up to the podium.

Oh, brother...

"Thank you," he began. "I don't fight freedom because it's easy. I fight freedom because my dad left when I was seven. I never drank any of that Sprite crap, though. I'm a 7-Up guy, always been one. Sometimes I drink water, but that's just because it's easily accessible. I had to build my own well once. It was during the drought of ought three. Vultures were disintegrating in mid-air from the heat. I got myself a stick and started digging. I almost made it to China, which is pretty good considering I wasn't on Earth at the time. But there was no reason I couldn't hold hands with the woman I loved. The church frowned on it, but that's their problem. I say, if you spend a buck seventy on a couple of burgers and the drive in, you're entitled to some hand action...."

A couple of days later, he finished and the challenge finally came to an end.

I clicked to the next slide.

"By simply replacing the word glasses with gladiator, I become the Horn-Rimmed Gladiator. It's perfect, and has rather satanic connotations, a must for capturing that elusive caveman demographic."

I continued on with my presentation...

"With the signature glasses comes the possibility for endless merchandising. Everything not yet wearing horn-rimmed glasses can be produced by us with the vision-augmenting, and stylish, spectacles, then sold with an enormously high markup to the general masses."

"How high of a markup?" the VP asked.

"Umm...upwards of seventeen hundred percent," I answered quickly doing no math in my head.

J'onn seemed impressed. I continued on to the next slide.

"Horn-rim your little gladiator."

"Horn-Rimmed Gelatin."

"Yes, yes. That is a good plan. But I feel we need some more products. Man cannot live by bread alone, ya know. Say...could we put some of those glasses on bread?"

I clicked on to the next slide.

"I am Gavin MacLeod of the clan MacLeod," I said withdrawing my katana. "There can be only one!" With one quick swipe, followed by a few hacks and a dice, I decapitated the acne-ridden busboy.

Sylar giggled as he chased after the rolling head.

Professor Xavier rolled over to me. "That's just great, Bennet!" He sounded annoyed. "You realize I have the underwhelming honor of being the doctor on this sentient ship, and you've just caused me hours of paper work!"

Mr. Bennet, everybody.

We’ll be right back to announce the winner right after these important messages.

Viking Ted – Freelance Space Mechanic coming this fall on the Intergalactic Gladiator Network!

Welcome back everybody to the Last Gladiator Standing III grand finale. I know everyone is excited to see who the winner is, but let’s take a moment to look behind the scenes of this year’s competition. Here’s the main control room where hundreds of technicians work endless hours (Thanks to indentured servitude, ha ha!) to deliver the exciting competition to you. Wave hello, fellas!

That’s great. We’d also like to take this opportunity to thank this year’s group of judges. Give a great big hand to:

Commander Oneida!

The Henchman!

Simon! Booo! Ha ha, just kidding Simon!

Blockade Boy!

And (uh… I guess) Captain Koma!

Thanks everyone, you’re the best. You’re all the best!

And now, for the moment you’ve been waiting for.

The winner of Last Gladiator Standing III and a personally signed copy of Stories of the Unexpected is

None other than...

The person who you will see named below...

Who is...

none...

other...

than...

Mr. Bennet!

Congratulations, Mr. Bennet, you are the Last Gladiator Standing.

2008-08-04T21:45:00.002-05:00

One for Bennet...

One for Sylar...

Two for Bennet...

Two for Sylar...

Three for Sylar...

Four for Sylar...

Three for Bennet...

F--

Oh carp, I dropped the jelly beans.

I have to do a recount.

2008-08-03T10:55:00.002-05:00

This is it, ladies and gentlemen. The final vote. Who will win, who will be Last Gladiator Standing?

All contestants and judges send me your final vote. The winner will be announced Monday night.

The Final Mission: Princes of the Universe

2008-08-02T11:02:00.005-05:00

Well, here I was on the space shuttle about to take off to do that stupid challenge that stupid Sylar drew from the stupid hat. I would much rather be on a fun scavenger hunt, but it seems I have to be rescuing Queen from some emperor guy. I don't see the point with Freddie Mercury gone. I doubt Flash Gordon has the same homo-erotic appeal.

"Just wait 'til you see him swing a sword," Captain Koma said.

"What are you doing here? Come to sabotage my efforts?"

He replied, "You don't need any help in that department. I just wanted to make sure there would be no more thong thievery going on. Times are tough in Australia; I've got a limited supply. Last Gladiator Standing was my ticket to thong heaven, but somebody ruined that dream."

"Oh, yeah...must suck. See you later." I was hoping he would simply exit the shuttle and leave the awkward moment behind us. Instead, he followed me all the way to Planet Mongo, something about a rendevouz with a Hawkman.

As I departed the shuttle planetside, I waved farewell to Koma. He ignored me as he embraced a bulky winged fellow with a large battle mace.

"Get your star maps! Star maps, right here!" A familiar voice called out, enticing me to buy his product.

"Professor, why are you here?"

"Oh, trying to save up for a new appendix. Care to buy a Planet Mongo star map?"

I made the transaction with him and had a full color detailed map of the entire planet. "Thanks, Charles. About your appendix, though. You realize they aren't necessary, right?"

"What do you mean not necessary?"

"They don't have a function. Having it removed doesn't put you in any physical harm."

"Oh, well...um, yeah I knew that," he replied sheepishly.

I picked up on his lie and said, "Wait a minute! You didn't know about the appendix. That means...you're not a real doctor!"

"It's just a Ph.D." he shouted. "Why must everyone assume that requires a knowledge of human anatomy. I know where the important parts are."

"Yeah, only because you've lost control over them."

He rolled off angrily mumbling about a paraplegic's right to choose.

I consulted my newly acquired map and headed for Mingo City. Surely that would be where I would find this Emperor Ming lunatic.

"My name isn't Shirley," the crazy-eyebrowed emperor said as I entered his throne room.

"Well, in that case," I replied, "my name isn't Noah." I quickly reached for my pistol, but West flew in and kicked it out my hand.

"West?" I asked confused. "What are you doing here?"

"Hey, Mr. B!" He waved at me dorkishly. "I'm training to be a Hawkman!"

"Well,for now, can you leave me alone? I'm trying to save Queen and Flash Gordon from this merciless Ming man."

"Oh, sorry about that." West picked my gun off the floor and tossed it at me. He turned and flew back out the window.

"Ah, ha!" I said with my gun pulled on Ming.

He quickly grabbed Merlyn Gabriel out from behind his throne and held her in front of him with a death ray to her head. "Not so fast, Mr. Bennet. Put down your gun or Merlyn gets it."

"Who?"

"This lady I'm holding the gun on."

"Well, I figured out that part. I just don't really know who she is. Got any more damsels in distress?"

He tossed Merlyn to the side who quickly got up and ran away. Then, he pulled Ciera out from his throne and put his death ray to her head.

"Oh, no! Not Ciera!" I exclaimed.

"Good!" Ming grinned. "The Jedi damsels were a bit more difficult to kidnap. Now, put down the gun."

"First show me Flash Gordon and Queen," I commanded.

"You're in no position to be making orders," Ming replied as Kon-El walked out with a tray of hors d'oeuvres.

I grabbed him quickly and put my gun on his neck. "Now, Ming, you show me the band or Wonder Boy here gets it."

Ming gasped. "Not my hunky servant!"

Kon was about to explain how he's impervious to bullets, but Ming already hit some controls on his wrist band. A nearby wall slid open to reveal Brian May, Roger Taylor and Flash Gordon.

"Now, Kon," I said, "I want you to get Ciera out of here." He flew off with her out a window.

I aimed my gun at Ming. He aimed his death ray at me.

"Well, looks like we've got ourselves a showdown," I commented.

"Indubitably," he replied.

"Green PopTarts are not necessarily healthy nor evil," Gyrobo said as he buzzed in and out of the room.

Ming fired his death ray gun as I fired my death non-ray gun.

My bullet struck him in his goatee, which fell limply to the floor. "No!" he gasped attempting to catch the falling hairs.

His death ray sent glowing circle rings around me. I felt a tingly sensation in my feet, and then it stopped.

"Darn this theoretical technology!" he said throwing his death ray gun to the side. He quickly scooped up his discarded facial hair and made a run for the door. On his way out, he hit a button, causing gas to enter into the room where the band was awaiting their rescue.

"Umm, guys," I said through the thick glass. "If you can hear me, I don't think there's any chance for your survival. I know it must not be what you want to hear, but barring some miracle, I just don't have a way to break through this glass."

Inside, the band members began gasping for breath. Eyes were bulging and death was nearing.

"Sorry," I smiled and waved in an attempt to lift their spirits. Then there spirits were indeed raised. I turned to see Prince standing behind me with his magical guitar.

"Prince!" I exclaimed.

"Someone asked for a miracle," he replied, then did a quick dance step and smashed his symboled guitar into the thick glass chamber. It broke into thousands of pieces and Flash and the gang escaped. We ran out of Ming's palace to safety.

There I was met by all the former contestants. They were all enthusiastic to see Flash Gordon and Queen alive and well.

Koma patted Flash on the back. "Hey there, Speed Gordon. How about a couple of drinks later, mate?"

Erifia and Nepharia both pushed Koma out of the way and fought over Flash's autograph.

"Sign my lekkus!" Erifia shouted.

"Sign these!" Nepharia exclaimed. I think she won.

Hotstuff approached with a guitar in hand. "So are we going to stand around here all day or are we going to jam out?"

Flash started singing "We Are The Champions". Queen, Hotstuff and Prince joined in. The day ended with a glorious dance number as Professor Xavier sat in his wheelchair feeling of where his appendix used to be.

A Scavenging We Will Go

2008-08-01T07:04:00.006-05:00

I put on my disguise, and entered the room where Professor X was waiting.

"Hi! I'm like, Nurse Sylar...ine, and I need to cut your appendix out!"

"Hellooooo nurse," Professor X responded. "Sylarine, did you say your name was?" He began sensually rubbing his metal chair against my thigh. "Anything for you."

"Really? I mean, good! Let's get started then."

"Yes, yes, right away. Have you done this before?" he asked.

"Don't worry," I said reassuringly, "I'm a brain surgeon!"

"You are?"

"In a way," I said with a wink.

"Are you coming onto me?" The Professor winked back.

"Of course! I come onto anything that moves!"

The Professor sat there in silence. He certainly wasn't moving much.

"You are certainly very insensitive to the handicapable. You remind me of a certain rude cross-dressing serial killer that I know." It was then that a look of terror came on his face. "Wait a minute...Sylarine...Sylar-ine...Sylar!"

"Hehe, yup!" I cackled. Using my power of telekinesis, I tore open his flesh, and reached my hand inside of him. He didn't scream in pain, which made me sad. Damn paraplegia! I pulled out his appendix, and turned to walk away.

"Sylar!" Xavier shouted in disbelief. "How couldn't I read your mind!"

"My wig is totally like, telepathy proof!" I said with a giggle, and then scampered away

Well, that was fun, but now it was time to put my plan into action! I hid around the corner from Xavier's room, and waited for my competition. It wasn't long before Jafar arrived. He walked into Xavier's room, stuck his hand in my premade hole, and shouted, "Fiddlesticks!" when he found nothing there.

"Now there's a surprise. I think I am gonna have a heart attack and die from that surprise," his parrot put in, "Did ya even get in there deep enough? Here, let me try." The parrot jumped into the appendix-less hole, and began digging around. Jafar stood outside, watching intently.

"Ahem," someone cleared their throat. It was Professor X. The parrot poked its head out.

"He left you alive?" it said. "Who is he, Ghandi? Well, anyways, there's nothin' in here. Let's go, Jafar."

They went outside and hopped on their magic carpet. On it was a bag full of stuff. It looked like they had most of the items already!

As the carpet lifted into the air and flew away, I followed on the ground. After a few thousand miles, they landed. I was a bit behind them, I ran to catch up.

As I approached, I saw Nepharia. Jafar was on the ground on all fours in front of her.

"Now, moo like a cow," she told Jafar.

He listened, and responded, "Mooooooo!"

Nodding in approval, she continued, "Good. Now, make love to your parrot."

"Oh come on now!" he complained.

"Sure, like that's the worst thing you've ever done," the parrot put in sarcastically.

"Oh, fine, fine," Nepharia said, "I guess you can borrow my shoes. But I want them back!"

She handed Jafar her shoes. He spoke to his parrot. "Well, that's everything but the appendix."

Oh great, I had to follow them to one more person to get that appendix. But I didn't wanna! I wonder who could have it? Oh wait, I do! So I think that means, between Jafar and I, we had all the items! Right? If they had all but the appendix, and I had the appendix, that should be all of them, shouldn't it? I wasn't sure, but I moved forward anyways.

"Ah-ha!" I said as I jumped out of the shadows, revealing myself in a cat-like pose.

"Sylar!" all three of them exclaimed.

"Activate, cleavage generation powers!" I yelled frustratingly as I pounded on my boobless chest. I looked up and saw that the three of them were staring at me, so I stammered out, "I'll be taking all of your scavenger hunt items now!"

"Sylar, are you going to kill them?" asked Nepharia, with a smile spreading across her face. "And if so, can I help?"

"Like, no, I'm not going to kill them, I'm going to do something much worse," I responded as I smiled evilly at Jafar as I took his hand and pulled him towards the magic carpet...

The wind swept through our hair as we soared through the sky, Jafar and I, on our romantic magic carpet ride.

"I can show you the world," I sang soulfully to Jafar, "Shining, shimmering, splendid. Tell me, princess, now when did you last let your heart decide?"

Jafar had a look of terror on his face. "No, stop, no!"

"A whole new world. A new fantastic point of view. No one to tell us no, or where to go, or say we're only dreaming," I continued singing.

"NOOooOOocoOOooOOOoOO!" shrieked Jafar. "Stop, stop! I'll give you the items! I'll give you the items!"

We landed the carpet, and Jafar handed over his bag of goodies. As he did, his parrot flew over to him and landed on his shoulder, addressing Jafar.

"Well of course you gave in. Who would have thought to have faith in you, Jafar? Can't stand a little singing? You don't seem to have any trouble with it when you're singing Journey in the shower! You're so pa..."

With my mind, I blew up the parrot. Feathers showered everywhere. Jafar came over and gave me a big hug. "Thank you," he said. He looked up to the heavens, and shouted, "I'm free! Free!" and then ran away in ecstasy, leaving me with the bag.

I opened the bag, and started pulling out the items that Jafar had gotten for the scavenger hunt.

West's Spy Binoculars

Gyrobo's Nuts. I'm glad Jafar found these! Last time I saw Gyrobo, all he had was these small hexagonal metal things with holes in them that you screw onto bolts.

Merlyn's Land Speeder

Hotstuff's "dragon friend," Coffee Maker

Kon El's Courage (the Cowardly Dog)

Nepharia's Stilettos (Tacky!)

Ciera's Third Grade English Teacher

Erifia's Lekku Band (She must wear this one in private. Kinky!)

Xavier's Appendix

Koma's Thong. I knew his thongs weren't just flip flops!

That was everything! I'd completed the challenge. I sat down and took a deep breath when suddenly I saw Captain Koma in front of me.

"Hey Sylar, I have a date with Chroma tonight, and I'm missing...something that I need for it. Haven't seen it have you?"

Uh, no, I'm only wearing it! I thought to myself. Koma looked angry and disgusted. Did I say that outloud?

Sylar's Mission

2008-07-30T10:46:00.001-05:00

Sylar just read off my challenge. I looked at the ugly hat thing. It was my turn to draw.

I reached in and pulled out a little paper square with some scribbling on it. "Well, this can't be right," I said. I read the challenge outloud, "Eat Mr. Bennet's brain."

"Yay!" Sylar cheered. "You picked it..uh, I mean, oopsie! How'd that get in there?"

Jon seemed annoyed. "Okay, you guys," he said, "I'll overlook these sabotage attempts, as long as you promise not to play fair in the actual challenge. Draw again, Noah."

I pulled out another paper. It was much bigger than the last one and unrolled like a scroll. "Let's see," I started. "You are going on a scavenger hunt for the items of past contestants." It included a list:

Koma's Thong
West's Spy Binoculars
Xavier's Appendix
Ciera's Third Grade English Teacher
Erifia's Lekku Band
Nepharia's Stilettos
Kon-El's Courage
Hotstuff's Coffee Maker
Gyrobo's Nuts
Merlyn's Landspeeder

"Great!" Jon said. "Now get to it."

"Hold on," I put my hand up to his face. "There's more." I read the last sentence on the paper. "Disney villains will be competing against you in this scavenger hunt, and they don't always play nice."

Jon looked at me to see if I was done. I just nodded.

"Alrighty, then," he said. "Go!"

Bennet's Challenge

2008-07-30T07:26:00.000-05:00

So there we were, Bennet, Jon and I, all standing around a hat. I was ready to draw a challenge for Mr. Glasses. I reached in, and pulled out a piece of paper.

"Kill Sylar," I read the challenge aloud.

"How'd that get in there?" Mr. Glasses laughed nervously, and then shrugged. "Oh well," he said, pulling out his gun and aiming it at me.

Jon the Introglockenspeil shook his head. "Eliminating gladiators is my job. Draw another challenge, Sylar."

Mr. Glasses pouted and lowered his gun as I pulled another challenge from the hat, and read it to my enemy:

"The planet Mongo is in trouble again. The band Queen, with their new frontman, Flash Gordon, were on the planet recording their new theme song when they were captured by the Emperor Ming. You must travel to Mongo and rescue the band."

Putting down the piece of paper, I looked at Mr. Glasses, and laughed.

Now, for him to draw for my challenge...

The Final Challenge

2008-07-29T06:29:00.006-05:00

This is it ladies and gentlemen, the final challenge, the final countdown, the final of the final, the toughest challenge yet.

Two men (er sorta, I guess) have battled their way to get to this very spot right now. These two have overcome obstacles and trials and have persevered where others have fallen.

Will the winner be the "lady" or the paper tiger?

In this hat is your final challenge.

(We got it cheap at an estate sale. Some old dude who ran a school for wizards died and it was everything must go. As my esteemed colleague Henchman might say “Haw haw.”)

Draw a piece of paper from the hat and see what your final challenge will be.

Oh yes, by the way, like last year you are drawing for your opponent. So draw the paper and see what his challenge will be.

Sylar and Bennet, post your challenge when you draw it.

All contestants as well as judges will be judging the final round.

That is all.

Last Gladiator Standing III was brought to you in part The Mullet of Atlantis.

The Mullet of Atlantis is in fine bookstores everywhere.

Challenge 10, the Vote

2008-07-28T17:39:00.007-05:00

The challenge has been cast. The gauntlet thrown down. Many have been called, few have answered. On the planet Hacknor... On Fire Island D, brave contestants will compete. Who will falter? Who will thrive? Who will be

Down to the last three.

But only two shall go on.

You can feel the excitement in the air.

Like some sort of physical thing that's literally in the air that you can actually touch.

And it's exciting.

Like remember when Lucy was the only one who could see Aslan and her brothers and sister didn't believe her at first?

They were all like "You cracked, Lucy, and that ain't straight."

And then they did see Aslan and Lucy's all like "Told ja!"

What a brat, huh?

That's almost as bad as if someone was stringing you along and not telling you who got voted out.

Kind of annoying, huh?

Well what are you gonna do?

Scroll down I guess.

West, you are not the Last Gladiator Standing, goodbye.

Which is too bad, 'cuz all the girls were way hot for you. For real, I read it online. That flying stalker bit is tres sexy.

Stay tuned for the next challenge.

Last Gladiator Standing III was brought to you today by Hacknor Ham.

Hacknor Ham, now with flavor crystals!

Challenge 10, the Decision

2008-07-27T21:17:00.003-05:00

Congratulations Sylar, you are the winner of Challenge 10.

As votes from Bennet and West will cancel each other out, it's all on you.

Send in your vote for elimination.

2008-07-25T20:22:00.004-05:00

All contestants are invited to vote on the winner of the challenge.

Will it be West, who duked it our with Wonder Girl?

Will it be Sylar, who duked it out with the Stairmaster?

Will it be Bennet, who duked it out with Bone Grinder's lost faculties?

(shrugs) I dunno

Get me your vote by 7:00 central on Sunday.

The winner get immunity, the other two get to sweat.

Ch. 10: West vs. 'Roid Rage

2008-07-25T19:33:00.008-05:00

After receiving our challenges, I was forced into the company of the beefy luchador Giant Swell.

“Uh, hi. I’m West. I, uh, guess you’re supposed to teach me how to be a Gladiator.”

He stared at me for a moment, then stabbed me in the face with a syringe full of a performance-enhancing drug.
“Weenie-boy get strong,” he grunted, then dragged me into the hold of a spaceship reeking of sweat and beef jerky. “We go to Earth. You too wussy to be Gladiator of Intergalaxy. Gladiator of America good nuff for little you.”

I rubbed my face and pulled the broken needle out from under my skin. “We don’t have to take a ship, though. We could just—“ My words were choked off as Giant Swell put me in a headlock and poured a protein shake down my throat.

“We take flying gym. You work out. Get strong. Be good Gladiator.”

Those next few days were the hardest of my life as I bench-pressed, push-upped, chin-upped, squatted, injected, protein-packed and carbo-loaded every muscle in my body, but by the time we hit Earth’s orbit, I was still as scrawny as ever.

“Can I stop now?” I groaned as I gasped and panted on the floor of the gym, having toppled backwards over a medicine ball.

“Yes. Stop. Eat raw egg before we land.”

I did, then puked all over the ships controls during a turbulent entry into Earth’s atmosphere, making Giant Swell panic as the spaceship’s steering short-circuited. We crashed a few miles south of San Diego.

Giant Swell strapped weights to my arms and legs and forced me to run through the desert while he sat on my shoulders. I thought my back was going to break and I tried to get him off me by flying, but every time I lifted even an inch of the ground, he put me in a choke hold and said, “Be good or voted off you go.”

The stench of his beef jerky breath still lurks in my nostrils. God help me.

We got to the US border when ICE agents in an SUV stopped in front of us, guns drawn.

“You aliens?”

“Hell yes!” I answered. “I’m West Rosen, alien god and king of the night sky, keeper of the ultimate destiny, friend to supermodels, and fourth place winner of Sylar’s Bachelor.”

“Leave ‘im,” the other ICE agent barked. “They don’t make um that dorky on the other side. Take the big one, though. That’s a mask of a foreigner for sure, and we can’t afford another incident like the Ron Paul convention.”

I tried to make a break for it, but they shot Giant Swell with seven elephant tranquilizers and loaded him onto their SUV, and Swell had me too weighed down to fight. As they sped away, I sat in the blistering desert and cried. I was sure to have lost the challenge now.

As my tears evaporated in the heat, I took the weights off my arms and legs and vowed to soldier on. I would fly to LA, compete in and win American Gladiators, and make Giant Swell proud.

Something was amiss in Los Angeles, though. Buildings burned, bricks were thrown through windows, and teenagers ran through the streets shouting. My cell phone rang.

“Rosen! Do you know how much I had to pay my lawyers to get Giant Swell out of the custody of your planet’s barbaric immigration agents? Too much! You owe me big time, bucko!”

“Who is this?”

“J’onn Sinew Nu, and if you had bothered to meet me you would have known that, you two-bit wannabe punk! I own you; don’t you forget that! Now, to pay me back, you need to fix the situation in LA. Superboy’s little fanclub, the ‘Cult of Kon-El’ or whatever, are pretty cheesed off about you booting off their teen idol. Hence, the riot. So no more reality shows: no Real World, no Big Brother, and no American Gladiators. So if you wanna prove yourself, kid, you’ve got to find his fanclub president, a chesty blonde called Wonder Girl. You’ll know what to do.”

The cell phone flew out of my hand as I tripped over a golden rope.

“I assume you’re Wonder Girl?” I said, looking up at what was indeed a chesty blonde.

“You want to be a Gladiator, punk? Well fight me, then. I’ll smash you into a pulp and avenge Kon-El.” She flew into me and punched me in the stomach. I puked up the rest of the raw egg.

“Jeez,” I said, wiping my mouth. “This is worse than the reaction when David Cook won American Idol.”

Wonder Girl put out the fires in the buildings around us, and then turned back to me. “Meet me in the Bottled City of Kandor at noon tomorrow.” She handed me a Q-tip. “This will be your weapon.”

At the Fortress of Solitude, where the Bottled City of Kandor was held, some dude named Atom Man shrunk me, Wonder Girl, and all those crazy fans so we could fit inside. The Q-tip I held could actually be used to push someone over, and I focused on all the training Giant Swell had given me as I made my way through that miniature Xanadu.

“They took my Kon-El from the battle, so now we take the battle to them!” Wonder Girl announced to the cheering crowd before turning to me. “Your journey ends now, Rosen,” she spat.

I charged. She blocked. I thrusted. She parried. Back and forth we went until I realized that Wonder Girl had a secret weapon: she had used the Q-tip before shrinking down, and I was stuck to the floor in her earwax. I struggled to escape. I strained harder and harder, until all the steroids that Giant Swell had pumped into me kicked in, and my muscles ballooned outward. The exponential growth of my muscles cancelled out being shrunk by Atom Man, and the Bottled City of Kandor shattered around me.

I collapsed under the weight of my expanding musculature as the Cult of Kon-El fled screaming.

When I awoke in the hospital on Hacknor the next day, J’onn Sinew Nu and Giant Swell stood by my, now normal-sized, side.

“Well, kid,” Sinew Nu said, “the Pay-Per-View from the Kandor fight managed to take in just enough to pay for Giant Swell’s legal bills, but don’t think this makes you IGEs cash cow. Now it’s off to the accountants for me to count my money!”

Giant Swell beamed at me, swelling with pride. “That’ll do, wuss. That’ll do.”

Mission Ten: Walking the Talk

2008-07-25T10:09:00.004-05:00

"So, I was thinking about making some paper sales here on Hacknor. Are you up for it, old man?"

"Old man? I tell you when I was fourteen we didn't need paper. The world was our burrito, and we made every minute of our lives count toward something. That's what it means to be an Intergalactic Gladiator, you know? Four hours in the gym every day and a confidentiality agreement. Yes, sir, lots of secrets in the gladiatoring business. I remember walking in on Ol' Tipper McDunn during his acne-cream application. Of course, back then acne had no cure. And why should it? Pimples are the signs of a stressed body. If you're not stressin', you ain't livin'."

I could tell this was going to be an exciting challenge.

"You know, back in my day this gladiator business was dangerous! There were no helmets or safety nets or steroids, and racism was still allowed. Those were the good ol' days and the first time I lost my brain."

"Well, that's nice," I replied trying to end the conversation. Unfortunately, I came to find that to be an impossibility with Bone Grinder.

"Sure thing, Skipper. I can tell you all about it," he went on. "It was a legendary matchup: me versus some other guy. I knocked his lights out. Then, in the darkness, he managed to hit me on the head with a newspaper or something. I could feel my brain shake loose, then the man threw cats at me. My allergies acted up and I went into a sneezing fit. Every sneeze caused a piece of my brain to fly out my nose. I don't much care for nose jobs. What do they need employment for anyway? Saving up for a larger septum? I say they can find employment on some other planet. Pluto is a disappointment!"

"That's a lovely story about your brain falling out your nose and all, but..."

"Oh, yeah, my brain. I had to get a transplant, you know. They were fresh out of usable brains, so I got an overgrown cauliflower. Some reports suggest they're even better at thinking than brains are!"

Bone Grinder continued talking to me about taco toppings, which I believe he was using as a metaphor for cleaning a windshield.

Since he was going to go on talking nonsense, I thought I might as well make the most of it. "Come on, Bone. Follow me."

"Sure, I'll follow you, but I ain't joining no cult. Three years ago I was attacked my Mormons. 'Bout lost my life, if it weren't for my accuracy with a salad fork...."

A long, long cab ride later, we arrived at Williams Arena where Ron Paul was having his counter-convention. Perfect, I thought. Bone Grinder will fit right in here. I patted Bone on the back and said, "Have fun, I'm going to the little boys' room."

"You damn pedophile!" he replied, "Not that there's anything wrong with it...." But before he could go of on a tangent, Ron Paul took the podium.

"Greetings my fellow patriots," he began. Bone Grinder turned away from me and listened to Paul go on. "We are here today because the Republican Party has failed us! They insist on legislating morality. No where in the Constitution does it say that we have to pay taxes, or that we can't murder each other, or that everyone is entitled to free health care. Hell, it doesn't even provide protection for minors from sexual predators!"

Boney G, as his Gangsta name would be, was entranced. I slowly snuck away as Ron Paul continued his Family No-Values speech.

A much shorter cab ride later I arrived at the Titty Twister.

And no, it wasn't for personal reasons. I was looking for someone. Someone who ate brains and loved having their titties twisted.

A couple of Mexican tough guys stopped me as I entered.

"Where you headin', Señor Glasses?" the short one asked.

"Inside. Are you going to stop me?"

"Me?" He laughed. "No. My friend Nacho will do that."

The caped gordo jumped out at me and annouced, "NachOooOoooocooOoOOooOOOO!"

I pulled my gun and shot him three times. As he fell onto the ground, the other guys stared at me. I pushed them out of the way and walked inside.

There, at the bar, I saw a suspicious-looking Ninja.

I walked up to the man and asked, "Have you seen a cross-dressing brain-eater around here?"

"Lolz, like no way silly!" he giggled. "What would I be doing in a strip bar?"

"You're right," I said and walked away. I was wrong, Sylar wasn't here, so my plans of sabotage were of no use.

As I headed to the exit, the Mexican tough guys came inside. "Hey! That Gringo killed Nacho!" They pointed at me.

The entire audience fell silent and stared at me. Then, the Mexican Ninja said, "Oh, nos! Not Nacho, my plump little wrestling buddy!" He ripped off his ninja-apparel to reveal his true identity.

"Get Mr. Glasses, lolz!" he ordered.

The booze-filled and angry Mexicans jumped from their seats and charged at me. I emptied my gun into the crowd and fought my way to the exit.

Where was an Intergalactic Gladiator when you needed one?

I ran all the way back to the convention with the muy angry mob chasing close behind.

"There is no freedom if we lock terrorists up without rights!" I could hear from inside. "They deserve to live the American Dream just like any other religious nut."

I kicked the door open and found Bone Grinder. "You've gotta do something! There's a mob heading this way. We're going to have to fight them!"

"I never met a mob I didn't kill, or for that matter wasn't a part of. The 60s was a good time for mobs. We used to start off with a game of Naked Twister, but one thing led to another and before we knew it we were out in force demanding the right to consensual dung battles."

Before Bone Grinder could finish his delightful story, Cheech and his gang burst in.

"Hey, what is the meaning of this?" Ron Paul asked from his podium.

The Mexican glared up at him. "Look muchachos, it's a pro-choicer."

This seemed to cause the mob to forget about me as they broke out in utter madness attacking all of the convention goers with machetes and sharpened taco shells.

"Hmmm....maybe they were right about that border fence after all," Ron Paul said as he ducked under the podium.

I looked at Bone Grinder and said, "Well, here's you're chance to be a real gladiator again!"

"Why the Hell are you still talking?" he asked. "There's a fight going on! Save the chit chat for later." And with that he let out a piercing battle cry as he flailed his bony appendages about, knocking Latinos and Libertarians alike unconscious.

I joined in on the fray.

It was a long and tough battle, but with Bone Grinder on our side, we had the upper hand. Soon, the borachos were racing back to their strip joint.

Ron Paul stood back up at the podium and motioned to Bone Grinder. "Come on up here. You saved this convention and protected our Constitution with your excessive violence. Let's hear a few words from our freedom fighter!"

Bone Grinder made his way up to the podium.

Oh, brother...

"Thank you," he began. "I don't fight freedom because it's easy. I fight freedom because my dad left when I was seven. I never drank any of that Sprite crap, though. I'm a 7-Up guy, always been one. Sometimes I drink water, but that's just because it's easily accessible. I had to build my own well once. It was during the drought of ought three. Vultures were disintegrating in mid-air from the heat. I got myself a stick and started digging. I almost made it to China, which is pretty good considering I wasn't on Earth at the time. But there was no reason I couldn't hold hands with the woman I loved. The church frowned on it, but that's their problem. I say, if you spend a buck seventy on a couple of burgers and the drive in, you're entitled to some hand action...."

A couple of days later, he finished and the challenge finally came to an end.

Don't Steal My Thunder

2008-07-24T06:09:00.017-05:00

I sat with my new friend, the gladiator, Thunder Thighs, and painted my toe nails with her.

"Omigod, that shade of pink looks like, soooo good on you!" I said to Thunder Thighs.

"Thanks, Sylar. I hope it impresses Jon."

"Jon the Introglockenspeil?"

"Yes, I've got a thing for him. I want to wrap my thunderous thighs around him. He's one sexy gladiator."

"Hehe," I giggled. "A crush on Introglockenspeil? That's a hilarious joke!"

"I'm not joking," she replied coldly.

"Oh, uh, how do you like the food?" I asked, changing the subject.

Thunder Thighs took a bite of the homemade dish I brought her. "This is really good. What is it?"

"It's brains!" I said, smacking my lips.

Thunder Thighs stared at me for a moment, and then started laughing. "Oh Sylar, you're such a jokester."

I giggled, and said, "I know!" Then I scratched my head. "What am I joking about?"

"That we're eating brains."

"Oh yeah," I responded. Thunder Thighs seemed to be insane. Eating brains is no laughing matter. Oh well. "Hey, wanna go to the gym so we can work off the weight we packed on from these brains?" I asked her.

Her eyes grew wide. "The gym?" she asked. "The place of evil and despair? You wish to fight evil with me? Very well. But, we will not work off any weight."

"But I'm getting love handles!" I shouted in protest as we walked out the door.

We arrived at the gym. It looked homey.

Stepping inside, I noticed that the gym was full of hot boys! "Omigod," I said in a moment of sudden revelation, "this gym is full of hot boys!"

"Hot boys?" Thunder Thigh asked, as she looked around. "I see no flab, no rolls, no double or triple chins. Where is this hotness you speak of? All I see is fitness, the epitome of all evil." Suddenly, she saw something, on on her face came a look of total fear. "Good God...the Sit and Be Fitters!"

"Who are they?" I asked.

"They are the henchmen of my arch-nemesis. Evil seniors of doom who exercise while sitting down! That must mean that he must be here." She pointed her finger towards the back of the gym as she saw him. "The Stair Master!"

"Mwahaha," the Stair Master cackled evilly. "Greetings, Thunder Thighs. I see you've walked right into my trap."

"What trap? We came here voluntarily. You didn't lure us here," she responded.

"It's a figure of speech!" he shouted. "Sit and Be Fitters, kill them!"

"...."

"What'd he say?"

"Get who?"

"Where are they?"

The Stair Master shook his head in disgust. "They're behind you," he informed them.

"Eh?" one responded. "Well, give us a few minutes to turn our chairs around to face them, then we'll attack."

As the old people slowly turned their chairs, Thunder Thighs sprung into action. "Thunder Thighs, activate!" she shouted as she slapped the flab of her legs together. What resulted was a thunderous sound of thunder that shook through the whole gym. The Sit and Be Fitters all fell over.

"Help," one pleaded, "we've fallen down and we can't get up!"

"Don't worry," another added, "I've got Life Alert!"

While the seniors were trying to figure out how to work their Life Alert alarms, Thunder Thighs charged the Stair Master. She lept in the air, ready to slap together her thighs again and destroy her enemy. But before she could, the Stair Master grabbed her! He forced her onto his stairs, and held her there as he activated them, forcing her into stair-walking exercise!

"No!" Thunder Thighs wailed. "Exercise is my one weakness! My flab...it'll get toned! My power of thunder won't work without my flab!"

"Haha, yes, feel the burn!" the Stair Master responded evilly.

Now, it was all going to come down to me. I knew I couldn't just kill the Stair Master. If I did, he might go out of control, and destroy Thunder Thighs' flab forever. No, I'd have to handle this situation delicately...

I shoved Thunder Thighs off the stairs and got on myself. I threw her some leftover brains and ordered her to eat it to regain the strength of her flab as I began exercising.

"What's this?" the Stair Master said. "Are you sacrificing yourself for her? A noble venture, but you shall regret it when you see the shapely, toned butt that I give you!"

"Ooooh, really? I've always wanted a toned butt!" I responded with delight.

"Wait a minute," the Stair Master said with fear in his voice. "Are you using me...for good?"

"Heck yeah!"

"NOOoooOOoocoOOoOO! Being used for good is my only weakness! How did you know?!" And suddenly, the Stair Master exploded.

"NOOoOOOocoOooOO!" I shouted, "my butt isn't toned yet!"

Pouting, I helped Thunder Thighs to her feet. We walked away from the gym, victorious.

"Sylar," she began, "you saved my life. You know what it is to be a true gladiator."

"Hey, thanks! But I have one question. Can I see what you look like under your mask?"

"I owe my life to you. Of course I will reveal my secret."

And with that, she pulled off her mask.

No wonder she wore one.

Challenge 10

2008-07-21T18:47:00.003-05:00

It’s down to the Final Three, Gladiators. Congratulations on making it this far.

There is just this one thing though.

I don’t think you three really fully understand and appreciate what it’s like to be a contestant in the Intergalactic Gladiator Entertainment.

That’s why I’m assigning each of you to tag along with a gladiator for a week so you can see how it’s done.

West, you get to hang with the Giant Swell.

Sylar, you will accompany Thunder Thighs.

Bennett are to tag along with Bone Grinder. OK, technically he’s not a combatant any more as he’s retired and all and of course, he’s not quite all there upstairs. But he needs the money and we figured he was here the last two years, so why not feature him once more.

Who knows what excitement you’ll face while with these Gladiators, maybe you’ll help fight thir arch enemies or even get to wash out their trunks. It’ll be an exciting few days though, that’s for sure.

And in an interesting twist, all of the competitors from Last Gladiator Standing III are going to judge. That’s right, everyone you kicked out now has a say in who will be the final two.

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Let Gallifreian Interiors can help you out!

Using our patented space/time technology, we can make your house go from this:

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That’s 800-TIME-LORD.

Call Gallifreian Interiors today, operators are standing by.

You’ll say “It’s Fantastic!”

Challenge 9, the vote

2008-07-21T15:15:00.003-05:00

Well Gladiators, it didn't take the Scooby Doo gang to figure this one out.

Kon-El, you are not the Last Gladiator Standing, goodbye.

Stay tuned for the next challenge.

Mission 9 - The Wiener

2008-07-20T17:58:00.003-05:00

4 Posts.

I told you what I was looking for. I told you I wanted to be amused. But did any of you give it to me?

2 of you did. 2 of you am I very disappointed with.

Bennet - You must think your bullet proof because you insulted me and didn't do it in a smart way or funny way. I certainly didn't find any humor in the rest of your post. Not one chuckle or slight pleasure did I take in it. I am gravely disappointed. You didn't win.

West - What do you think this is, High School? I am not some lowly paid public servant who's wasting his time waiting for the day when one of my students puts my life out of its misery by shooting me. At the start of this show you actually tried to put something together that was amusing and different. But now your just going through the motions. Consider yourself lucky that you got this far.

Kon-El - I wanted to love your post. I really did. You made me laugh my morning glass of Soy milk though my nose. You added everything and your jailbait cousin too. I laughed at the Tony Stark drinking in his armor stuff. Good choice with your robot cause K-9 gets rebuilt by The Doctor once a decade. Yet there is a a "BUT" coming.
Because your post was so long it drifted and I wasn't able to follow it around your Joker-isation. I had to read it twice. It pains me to not give you the win because you did have the funniest moment of all the posts and I realise that others will keep their pact and stick together to vote you out. Sorry Kon you didn't win.

And the Winner of Mission 9 is.....

SYLAR

Yep Sylar won.

His post was funny and it had no LOL's to piss me off.
He had stupid physical humor and thought outside the box when it came to the armor. His pictures were funny and his pacing and timing was clean.

You have come a long way from the start Sylar. Keep improving and maybe you'll win.

Ch. 9: West vs. Summer Cinema

2008-07-17T22:48:00.009-05:00

I soared through the stratosphere of Hacknor, surveying the chaos below. My task was to don the metallic, almost robotic suit of Iron Man. As Nietzsche warned, I would become like the monsters I fought.

To seek the suit of Iron Man, I returned to Earth through the legendary Fire Island portal I used a few challenges ago. Hancock waited for me outside his favorite liquor store in LA.

“I heard you were running a hit on Iron Man,” he said. “Da~mn! Old Tony Stark’s drunker than I am and he still gets all the chicks. Every time I mack on some honey it turns out to be the end of the world or something. It’s just not right. Let’s take that suit of his, boy!”

Hancock led me to Stark’s domain, nestled alongside the California coast. Inside, we saw the Joker holding a gun to the head of Stark’s assistant, Pepper Potts.

“No!” Hancock said as he charged at the Joker, who shot at him as he pushed Ms. Potts aside. She was just a cardboard cut-out, used to lure Hancock into this lair (apparently, women are Hancock’s kryptonite). The Joker beat Hancock with a rubber chicken until he fell unconscious.

The Joker slung the unconscious Hancock over his shoulder and cried out, “He’ll be the perfect minion once the Scarecrow brainwashes him! Take care, Westy boy, and don’t take any wooden nickels!”

That was bad news, but I couldn’t be concerned. Others could handle that; my focus remained on Hacknor and the game. In the basement laboratory, I found Tony Stark lying dead in a pool of his own vomit, an empty bottle of Jack Daniels by his side. His gleaming iron suit hung in a glass case behind him.

I put on the suit and tried out its weapons. Pew! Pew! Pew! I shot holes in the laboratory walls. I heard something whimper. I accidentally shot some monster. I took pity on the poor alien-like thing, and mercifully ended its life with another blast, this time to the head.

Taking Iron Man’s suit, I returned to Hacknor and flew between the two armies. “Telmarines,” I said, “Hacknor has no quarrel with you. Return to Narnia and destroy the Pevensie bastards.” Seriously, I hate those kids. I hate them and their robotic devotion to that stupid talking lion. Anyway, I continued. “Golden Army, cease your battle. The Telmarines will leave.”

A Telmarine warrior spoke. “We cannot return to Narnia until we destroy this army. Their gold will help us pay the costs of war with Narnia, and they are but clockwork men.”

“Clockwork men? Like robots? Hell, I’ll be glad to help you fight them.”

With Iron Man’s suit, I blew away the Golden Army, and helped load the Telmarines’ horses with the precious debris.

“Good luck! Destroy Narnia and turn it into an alien paradise!”

In the now empty field, slick with the blood of a few fallen Telmarines, I stripped myself of that awesome, loathsome iron suit and dropped from the highest height I could fly to.

A small robot came to clear away the pieces of the broken suit. By this time I had enough of robots and the robotic, so I scooped up that pathetic little unit and destroyed it as well.

Destroying robots is my destiny.

Mission Nine: The Horn-Rimmed Hero's Journey

2008-07-17T22:44:00.009-05:00

There I was reading our next challenge when a little robot came up to me with a flower. "Aw, you must be the cute little robot Jon mentioned." I grabbed the flower, tossed it in the trash. The little guy looked up at me with his mechanical puppy eyes. "Oh, don't give me that. It was just a stupid plant."

"EEEEEeeeeEEVVVVVV," it chirped.

I could tell this little guy had a speech impediment. Luckily, a shutdown switch was visible on his back, so I flipped it. As he powered down, he made a low buzzing sound before becoming completely stationary and silent.

"Now, when I'm done with this challenge, I'll gut you for computer parts," I said heading out of the barracks.

"Hey," I said to the nearby bum. "Are you drunk?"

"Mmmmm," he groaned.

"And are you a hero?"

"Mmmmmmm."

"Good! Tell me where I can find some Mystic Iron Armor."

He held his hand up at me and said, "Leave me alone."

"I can't. I need the Mystic Iron Armor to save Hacknor. You have to tell me where it is."

"Too bad. I only work on Independence Day," he replied going back to sleep.

"It is Independence Day," I said.

He looked up in the sky. "Nah." He slid his beanie over his eyes.

"It is. Aliens are attacking! You're the only man left alive! Robots are becoming self-aware!"

He just ignored me. I wouldn't be able to find this Mystic Iron Armor on my own, and going without it would likely be a huge time saver, which would displease Koma. I'd have to get this guy to help me.

I came back an hour later with a friend of mine. "Hit it, Alfonso!"

Alfonso began singing "It's Not Unusual".

"Turn him off!" The drunken hero cried.

"Sorry, he's already got his hips swinging. There's no stopping him now."

"Fine! I'll tell you where it is. Just shut him up. You got something to write on?"

I felt around in my pockets. It was hard to believe, but I was all out of paper. Luckily, The Professor, having been voted out of this competition was panhandling close by. "So," I said to him, "this is why you pretend to be crippled?"

Some of the passersby looked accusingly at the bald teacher. "I'm not pretending," he lied.

"Right." I had The Haitian push him out of his wheelchair. He stayed true to the role as he wallowed around on the sidewalk. "Relax, you'll get enough donations for a new one," I said rolling it away.

The drunken hero used his fingernails to carve a map into the back of the wheelchair. Not only did I now have directions, but I had a conveyance for The Haitian, who can get huffy if he has to walk long distances on a mission.

I shot Alfonso in the knee cap, but that didn't stop his singing, it only made him use a higher pitch. The drunken hero looked at me sternly. I quickly shot him in the belly. That shut him up.

"Alright, let's get going." The Haitian gleefully jumped into the wheelchair and we were off.

Trying to follow directions drawn by a drunk is difficult, but we arrived at the location of the Mystic Iron Armor.

"Well, there it is. That was easy," I said, parking The Haitian. "I'll just go put it on and then we'll save Hacknor."

As I approached the suit, the ground began to shake. The Abomination came running at me, just as we were warned. I screamed, "Help me, The Haitian! I'm under attack."

He shouted, "Run away!" and began rolling his wheels as fast as his arms could.

The Abomination hit me and I was knocked a good 40 feet away. The Abomination approached me as I stood up. I looked at him. He didn't look so tough. In fact he was a little fluffy. Then, I realized my glasses were broken. I quickly grabbed my backup pair from my inside jacket pocket and put them on. The Abomination was as frightening as ever. He wound up for a punch.

As his fist came at me, I managed to jump out of the way. Or I thought I had. While midair, I realized that I had been hit again. However, from that altitude I noticed a Sarlacc pit in the distance.

After I landed, I picked myself up and made a run for the Sarlacc. The Abomination chased after me. I jumped into the pit and cried, "Go go gadget heli--wait a minute! I'm not Inspector Gadget!"

The Abomination jumped in after me.

As I slid down the sandy side of the Sarlacc pit, a large tentacle grabbed hold of my leg. I tried climbing back up, but couldn't escape its grasp.

The Abomination had a similar problem. He was crying for his mother as he was being dragged in. I, however, was crying for my Haitian.

"Get over here right now or you can forget about your pension!"

There was no reply, and the tentacle was dragging me closer and closer to the beast's mouth. I pulled out my gun and shot the tentacle several times. It finally retreated in pain, but I was still slipping slowly to my second death.

"Is that bad guy still alive?" I heard The Haitian call. I looked up to see him leaning over the edge of the pit. I looked down at the Abomination who was about to be eaten by the Sarlacc.

"No, he's dead. Throw me a rope!"

"He doesn't look dead and I don't have a rope," he replied.

I looked back down at The Abomination. The Sarlacc gobbled him up and I shouted back at The Haitian, "Okay, now he's dead! Use the jumper cables for the Professor's wheelchair!"

Seconds later a red and a black clamp fell by my face. I reached up with both hands and took hold.

I was immediately hit with a high voltage electric charge. In between spasms I yelled at my employee, "Don't....plug it....in....you.....fool!"

The charge stopped and I climbed out to safety. Or at least what I thought was safety.

Some crazy-looking unhappy clown had a gun on us. "Look, I just want the suit. Can't I have the suit?" I asked.

"Only if you can answer a riddle," the joyless entertainer replied. "If you get it right, you can have the suit. If you get it wrong, you'll be sucked into the Sarlacc pit!"

"Alright, what's the question?"

"Can God create a rock so heavy he himself cannot lift it?"

"Hmm..." I looked over at The Haitian. "You first."

He rubbed his head for moment before finally answering, "Yes."

The Joker replied, "Wrongo," and The Haitian flew into the Sarlacc pit.

"Oh, no! I'm without a henchman!" I shouted.

"You want to answer the question?"

"Sure," I thought it over. "Well, let's see...it's a yes or no question....The Haitian already said yes, so that would mean....I'm going to say...." I was about to answer when I had a thought. "Wait! Is it the Rastafarian God or the Flying Spaghetti Monster?"

The Joker thought for a second and replied, "Well, I'm not sure." He was quickly sucked into the Sarlacc pit.

That left me with zero opposition and I was able to get the Mystic Iron Armor.

I donned the special outfit and made my way to the battle. It was like Gettysburg, but with less cannons, which was unfortunate.

As I walked up, the soldiers on each side stopped fighting and laughed. "What the heck are you wearing?"

"It's Mystic," I replied. "Why are you guys fighting anyway?"

"Well," one of the Telmarines spoke up, "we wanted to destroy these islands to make way for a really awesome water park and oil rigs, to help global warming."

"And we have to stop them!" a Golden soldier shouted. "We can't let these guys destroy the environment."

"Well, why not?" I asked.

"Because we have to think about our children's futures."

"You have children?" I asked.

"Well, no. But some people do," it replied.

"I have a pet rock!" another called out.

"Hmm...well, don't you see all those stars in the sky at night? Many of them have planets orbiting them. So even if the Telmarines destroy Hacknor's environment, you'll have countless planets and unlimitted resources once you master space flight."

"Well, can't we fight them anyway?"

"Nope. Just enjoy the waterpark. Let your children figure out what to do about the environment."

"But I have no children."

"I have a pet rock!"

"All the more reason not to be concerned," I replied.

It seemed I had convinced them. They offered to help build the waterpark and oil rigs. Peace was reached and the next day Hacknor had a really awesome waterpark...

...and cute, little, oil-covered sea creatures.

As we all enjoyed the new planetary attraction, The Haitian approached covered in yellowish slime.

"Um, you'll probably need to shower first," I advised him. "How'd you survive the Sarlacc?"

"Ask Boba Fett."

Challenge 9: Kon

2008-07-17T21:27:00.008-05:00

I hear a female voice through my mental fog. “Conner, Conner."

“Uh, What?" It hurts to move.

“Conner get up! It's time for the challenge."

Oh yeah I'm on Hacknor it takes me a moment to place the voice, my cousin Supergirl. That's very disappointing. I thought it was a date.

"G'way!" I respond.

“No, I'm not going to 'G'way' until you get up off your "S" and get into this challenge!"

“What’s the point?" I ask. “The other three are from the same reality they’ll vote against me."

She slaps me. “You are in the final four, get up an act like you deserve it! I will not have a whiny emo for a cousin got it?"

“OW! You’re mean! No wonder you're not dating anyone."

“Get to it! They'll be some heroes around to help you, give you spiritual no wait that's not the word moral support. Are you even listening to me?"

“Yeah yeah I'll be visited by spirits." She rolls her eyes, “He’s all yours now."

A huge version of HS shows up.

He kept talking about how to defeat a golden army or something I wasn't paying attention." Okay See you later Hs, I go to the next part of the challenge. The devil guy looks over to Kara “Is there something wrong with his brain?"

Kara Sighs." Short answer? Yes."

I ignore them and go to the room where I have to pick up my robot companion." I thought I was gonna get a Wall-E?" I question.

“They’re out of those cousin." Kara smiles. "But you have a choice this sensible metal dog."

Some weird half naked dude jumps at me wearing what kind of looks like a dress. " Or you can have my completely useless Robot! The Rabbot!"

Kara looks over at me. “You can listen to your smart relative, who loves you like the little brother she never had.”

Dr. Weird interrupts. “You can spray it in the eyes with perfume because that's how it happened to me! You feel pretty don't you!"

Kara shakes her head. “Or you can take the advice of a raving lunatic."

I took the dog not because off anything Kara said, but because I don't want to lug around a giant metal rabbit that smells like a cheap hooker. It directed me to one of the islands around here.

“There is the Drunken Hero master!" The robot, K-9 announces.

I sigh, " Hancock?"

"Conner Kent!" he spits “What do you want?"

“Well Lushy I'd like to know where the magic armor is."

He laughs. “No way have you Superman ripped off”.

You've got to be kidding me, and what exactly did he just say? “Me a Superman rip off? Yeah I'm his clone, what's your excuse?"

"What do you mean?" he challenges.

“I mean you're just Superman if he was a drunk, and a jerk!" I point out.

He drank some stuff that looked like that weird stuff from Private Hudson's room I drank that time I woke up not really knowing what happened the night before. “Okay lesh fight about it!" Hancock yells.

" Lesh?" I query.

“Shut up!" The superhero with a dirty movie sounding name charges and passes out. Blast! I won't be able to find the armor now! I notice K-9 doing something. “Are you picking his pocket?"

“Affirmative master!"

“I doubt you'd find anything... Maybe lice"

“Here is the map to the cave where the armor is being held Master!"

"I stand corrected. Good dog, Hey what is that glowing stuff? "

“Warp Engine fuel master." K-9 announces.

I gasp. “Me and a couple of girls drank that stuff!"

“You are not very bright are you master?" K9 quips.

I just grab him up, and fly above the misty oceans to our destination.

In front of the cave are Batman, and the Hulk." Man I thought I was being visited by spirits."

The Bat stares. “I can see you've burned out more brain cells partying I can't believe they released the Joker for a game show...Hn this is how you defeat him...”

“Hulk Bored!" The Hulk growls.

Batman puts his head in his hands “You’re supposed to help with him beating the Abomination."

“Hulk says smash Big Ears! Smash Clown Face Hulk hungry!"
“You big green idiot! This kid could be hurt!" The Bat yells before doing something really stupid for a smart guy.

So while Bats commits suicide,

I walk into the dark dank cave." Master Look Out!" K-9 warns as The Joker pops out and sprays me with this gunk " Why so serious Super Dork? Hahahahahaha argh!"

The little metal dog apparently has bite as it zaps the Clown. I smile “Good dog that wasn't so bad."

“Look at your reflection Master."

Gah! What's worse is Hahahahaha! I can't stop acting like the Joker; The Abomination thrashes out of the cave towards me. “Ready for a fight punk?"

“Fight in front of the kids?” I blurt out.

“Eh?" Emil looks wary.

“Instead of the fighting we should dance!” I grab him and start ballroom dancing.

He pushes me away. “No way this is too weird I didn't sign up for this! I'm outta here!"

“But... If you leave I'll be at mother's before you get back!" I call at him.

“Whatever weirdo!" He yells.

I run to the armor where Tony Stark has it ready. “Wait I thought it was mystic. Hehhahahaha!"

Stark glares. “Whatever Superclown, DR Strange did some goobledy gook. Just take it I have places to be, I've wasted enough time here I'm going to reap the rewards of a successful movie, hot production assistants."

“But how do I work this?"

K9 merged with the armor “I will help master, put it on." Oh yeah this looks normal.

I flew using my powers because even though the robot said he'd help I'm gettin' nothing from him but annoying robot talk. Finally I find myself in between The Telemarines, and the Golden Army. Now to get this to work "Fire Repulsors!"

A straw sticks in my mouth and pours vodka into it. “What the? Stark you drunk! I'll get you for this!" Apparently the armor thought that was the command to pour vodka, whiskey, rum, and some kind of wine down my throat.

Oh no the Joker Gas must still be in my system. Probably has Kryptonite in it. It's mixing with the alcohol and it's making everything ...groovy.

There were teddy bears, and dancing skeletons every where, then it turned bad.

And the evil skeletons became naughty.

Man just goes to show you never trust a hippie. The bears tear into my armor while the skeletons threaten to make me "feel good". I freak out and hit every button firing all the weapons. That destroys a few, and gets me a whole mouth full of liquors.

The bears and the skeletons rip their way into my armor. My fear makes my TK go nuts destroying everything in my way. It also made me pee myself a little. I think the adrenaline made my healing factor kick in because everything went back to normal.

There's armored bodies every where. Whoops. I'm gonna get grounded for this. I throw off the last vestiges of the armor and fly home I need a shower, some sleep, and I may need to go to rehab. I keep thinking I forgot something.

Meanwhile at the battle field... “Master I am stuck to the armor its reactor is about to explode! Master? AAAAAHHHHH!!!!"

The Sylar List

2008-07-17T18:38:00.002-05:00

Omigod, there's like, so many things to do this challenge! Now, I know I'm notorious (I know that word? I'm surprised, too) for not doing what I'm supposed to do in challenges, but now we're getting down to end, so I figured I better actually listen. So, I wrote myself a list so I wouldn't forget anything!

There! All I had to do was get some brains? Hehe, that's easy, I'll win this challenge for sure! Er, wait a minute, that's my grocery list. Let's try this again...

That seems better. Now, let's get to it!

So, I needed the Mystic Iron Armor, and the Will Smith lookalike, Hancock, knew how to get it. I had to find him! But how? Hmmm. That's tricky. Then I got it! The Hancock Signal! Works for Batman! So, I lit a searchlight, and put a bottle of liquor in front of the beam.

It wasn't long before the superhero landed in front of me, and snatched the bottle from my hand.

"Hey, like, you're an a-hole," I said to him, appalled at such rude behavior from a good guy!

He glared at me. "Call me that one more time," he said.

"Ok! A-hole!" I exclaimed with a giggle.

He threw me up into the air, and I flew like a birdie! Wheeeeee! I fell back down, and landed in his strong, sexy arms.

Clapping my hands gleefully, I said, "That was fun! Again, again!"

"Ahem. You didn't say the magic word," he responded.

"Please?" I said.

Hancock shook his head.

"Oh," I responded, figuring out what word he meant, and said, "A-hole!" Up in the air I went again! Yay!

Halfway down my xixth trip up into the sky, I remembered my list! I pulled it out. Hmm, now what did I need again? I don't think he has a cow, pork or chicken brain, and he's probably not a store clerk...

Oh, wrong list again. I needed him to find me the Mystic Iron Armor!

Hancock caught me, and said, "Call me that one more time."

"Maybe later, but first, I have a question for you: do you know where the super-cute Mystic Iron Armor is?"

"Yeah I know. I can get you there."

"Will you get me there through throwing me?" I asked.

"Is there any other way?" he responded.

I clapped my hands and closed my eyes, waiting for my flight to begin. But it didn't. I opened one eye and glanced at Hancock. He was standing there, staring at me, with his arms folded.

I rolled my eyes. "Do I really have to say it again?"

Nodding, Hancock said, "Say it, one more time."

"Omigod, fine! A-hole!"

And with that, Hancock threw me, sending me flying through the air. And suddenly, I landed with a crash.

I looked up. In front of me stood the two men, and behind them, multiple sets of Mystic Iron Armors!

The one with makeup on had a gun pointed at me. Gosh, that makeup was really caked on. What a skank! "Skank!" I shouted at him.

The man cackled maniacally. "Skank? I am the Brain!"

"The...Brain?" I started to drool a little. If this guy was called the Brain, imagine how delectible his actual brain must be! "So, you're a supervillain, like me, what power might you have?" I asked, excited at the possibility of eating his brain and stealing a power. I hoped it wasn't the power of skankiness, but looking at his makeup, I was afraid it might be.

"Power? Well, uh, you see, I don't really have a power," he responded, scratching his head.

"You don't have a power?! Then why are you the Brain if your brain is worthless? They should call this guy the Brain," I said, pointing at the Brawn, "He's got a worthwhile brain that would give me a power! And I'd eat it too, if it wouldn't make me like, totally ugly! But you're called the Brain, even though your brain is good for nothing but giving me thunder thighs!"

The Brain totally broke down in tears. I stepped over to the Brawn, and put my arm around him.

"So, like, sexy, can I have one of your totally awesome Mystic Iron Armors or what?"

"You called me ugly," he said, growling.

"Oh, no, no," I responded, "That look totaly works for you, hun. You've got the face for it. Me, my cheeks are too chubby, wouldn't work for me. But you, you're like, totally hot."

"The Hulk didn't think so. He beat me up, when all I wanted was love," he said, through tears. He and the Brain held each other and cried. Sheesh, these guys totally had self esteem problems!

"The Hulk was wrong! You're sexy, Brawn! And Brain, I'm sure you're good for something. I mean, you're probably smarter than me, or something. I mean, most people don't really care about smartness, myself included, but someone probably does!"

The two villains looked at each other, and nodded. Through their tears, they decided that I was worthy for a suit of armor. I put it on.

"Well, thanks guys," I said to them, "Let's get together and murder some people sometime."

And with that, I headed towards the battlefields on Hacknor. I walked to the center of the battle, between the two armies. Now, I was about to totally like, just murder all of them, but I figured I may get in trouble in the competition when my competitors hadn't completed their challenge yet (why must they all procrastinate?!). So, instead, I came up with a totally awesome plan!

Luckily for me, I was carrying around a portible Hancock signal. Random, I know. But this time, I made a little modification to it, and then turned it on.

In flew Hancock, landing next to me in between the two armies.

"Which one of y'all turned that searchlight on?" he asked, tapping the portible Hancock Signal.

I steathily pointed at the Golden Army and the Telmarines.

"Why are you pointing at us?" one of the members of the Golden Army asked, "Are you accusing us?" They totally didn't notice my accusation of them!

And so, my plan, like totally worked! Hancock started beating up the armies, and would keep them at bay until the other contestants came around to complete the challenge themselves! I didn't have to worry about him murdering them all since he's only PG-13! Challenge complete!

Er, wait a minute....

There's a box unchecked! That means I didn't do something! Right? I'm not sure. Well, I should probably do it anyways.

"Hey, any of you guys have a cute robot?" I asked the peeps getting beat up.

"I am a cute robot," a female Telmarine mercenary said, stepping forward. "I am a Terminator. A cyborg with a learning computer, a neural net processor."

"Good enough for me," I said with a shrug, and then blewed her up.

List complete! Now, to go grocery shopping...

The Koma Judges

2008-07-16T23:13:00.005-05:00

Ok I'm judging this round and as the judge I'm going to explain to you morons what I'm looking for this round.

I want the funny and I want it to be quirky and unusual.

And Funny Haha! not funny ewww!

You've got a huge amount of possible pop culture references here to deal with.

So lets start with some help for you, cause your gonna need it.

Telmarines - The baddies from Prince Caspain. Funny helmets, back stabers, and of course there's Aslan. You have satyrs, fauns, centaurs, dwarves, talking animals. Oh and 4 young children from England.

The Mummy Franchise goes Eastern with the terracotta warriors. Oh well you could get chow yun fat in it or brendan fraser somewhere along. Big huge destructive golems wreaking havoc on a huge scale. Yeah think big here.

Iron Man - Anyone say Drunk and Disorderly womaniser. Also how do you get into the armor and does it come in one size fits all? Does it come in different colours?

The Joker and Clayface - well if you can't find something here you don't deserve to win

Will Smith - Hancock again if you don't get something here I will be ashamed. Big Willie Smith and Hancock. Get it!

Cute little robots have there place and thats in the trash. Or being dishonest little bastards.

This is a quest. So you've got things to do before you get to the main battle.

Do them ALL.

Of course if you find a creative way to skip all of that or a nice narrative device to use here then you'll get bonus points.

Make me laugh and you will not loose.

Challenge #9

2008-07-14T18:43:00.003-05:00

We have another problem on Hacknor.

Believe it... or not.

It appears that the Telmarines are at it again. They're smashing up half the islands in the Great Forest Island Chain. In fact, they're making such a mess of things that the Golden Army has awakened and is fighting back.

You need to stop this war by whatever abilities that you have: will you negotiate a truce between the two armies or will you stop them all yourself? Good question, but before you get to that, you'll need protection.

You must find the Mystic Iron Armor, but it will be difficult getting it as it is protected by the Brain and the Brawn.

Legend has it that the drunken hero knows its location, so you'll need to consult him as well.

Oh yeah, try to add a cute robot. Everyone likes cute robots, right?

Oh and there’s just one more thing – your special guest judge.

Captain Koma has agreed to judge this round. Our lawyers made him sign a waiver promising to be 100% fair and impartial in his decisions, you know one of those standard boilerplates that all intergalactic reality shows have.

Good luck, gladiators.

Challenge 8, the vote

2008-07-14T16:57:00.003-05:00

Well Gladiators, whose new gimmick is to leave the contest?

When he heard the challenge, who said "Gimmick schmimmick?"

Well, not literally, but you know what I mean.

Professor Xavier, you are not the Last Gladiator Standing, goodbye.

Well, some good will come of it, at least now you have the time to devote into running my presidential campaign right?

Stay tuned for the next challenge.

Last Gladiator Standing III was brought to you today by Acme Laser Bazookas.

Acme Laser Bazookas, so simple even a child can operate one.

Favored by Colonial Marines everywhere!

Remember, when you purchase your laser bazooka, make sure it says Acme on the side!

Simon's Judgement

2008-07-13T12:55:00.002-05:00

I don’t know fighting or gladiatoring, I possess burly security guards for that type of thing. But I do know Brand, I know brand so well that I managed to make millions hand over fist by branding a group of low talent hacks and getting countries to LOVE them. Have you seen that little girl who cries when she sees Clay Aiken? If that doesn’t scream marketing genius, I simply don’t know what does. Usually men, and I use the term loosely, like Aiken make little girls run screaming the other way, restraining orders are not far behind when he starts singing about being invisible in their rooms and watching them. But not now, now little girls cry tears of joy just to be in his presence.

But this is about you all, not me and my blinding brilliance. A brilliance I see that none of you possess. You create a brand in order to educate people about you, to sell yourself. Most of you walked in thinking you were so great people knew all about you already.

Sylar: There are 10’s of thousands of she-males just like you the world over from San Francisco to Thailand. And thousands that murder their Johns in unusual ways. Why not the Ice Princess, or the femme fatal who can hear what’s in men’s hearts? You have many skills to work with, take advantage of them. The brand of stupid pouty girl already has Jessica Simpson and Tara Reid.

Kon-El: The many options you went through had some potential. Then I got bored and wandered off during your WWE experience. No brand, you are one of the dark haired guys in the ring, whoopdeefreakin’doo. You should have gone with your second outfit for a brand.

Bennett: You certainly don’t lack for ego. I liked the transition from Horned Rimmed Glasses to Horned Rimmed Gladiator. My concern is that while you may appeal to under aged white trash and gelatin, you might have a hard time with the larger population. And even the white trash population gets fussy when a person declares himself God. That might play well in Utah and Texas, but the rest of the world doesn’t trust those two states.

Xavier: Oh boy, evil. Oooohhhh, I’m scared, a bald guy in a black suit. You're Mormon! I think you would have had better luck if you’d taken cues from the Mike Myer movie and gone for a ‘guru’ thing, you could have even had a modified moving cushion to maintain your gimp status.

West: How antiestablishment, you rejected the system before the system could reject you. How very spoilt teen of you. I would have pushed you towards the non-threatening Clay Aiken mold. Girls could have crushes on you which their mothers could encourage, knowing that should you ever be alone with the daughters, the girls would be perfectly safe.

The money a person can make from merchandising could be spent on cosmetic surgery, nicer clothes for your girl, the best paper made, a toupee, and first class tickets where stewardesses do all of the work. Embrace the world of exploitation, put aside any moral qualms you may have, learn to love the Brand. Only then will you reach brand Utopia. Only one of you even managed to find the right general direction towards this place. That person is

Kon-El.

Despite your WWE episode, you have been judged the best of all the contestants. Reap the rewards and enjoy the perks, my good man. They can be fleeting.

Cheers!

Ch. 8: West Vs. the Executive

2008-07-11T18:11:00.007-05:00

Dear Mr. J'onn Sinew Nu:

I bet you are wondering why I haven't appeared in your office. It is easy to explain.

I'm onto you; I'm onto you and your robot scheme. You want to know who I am, what my "persona" is.

Well let me tell you something, Mr. Sinew Nu. I am more than a mere mortal. It is my destiny to be an alien god, to show humanity their destiny and liberate them from the robots!

This Gladiator contest is merely a front. You have taken the greatest soldiers in the multiverse and distracted them with this game and quest for fame and profit, but not me! I will destroy you and your evil empire.

Merchandising? Ha, I laugh in your face! I have soared among the clouds, and that is a greater joy than any material gift could be. Do you know what makes the toys and clothes we buy? Robots! Do you know what broadcasts the shows we watch? Robots!

(I wouldn't mind marketing my own brand of sneakers though. Imagine: Air West...but no! I will not give up my integrity as an alien! Never!)

My quest is pure; I shall smite your corporate regime, just as I smote that drunken cheerleader who thought I was a loser. Your insidious corporate plot is no match for me. I bide my time until the day when I can hoist you far into the mesosphere, hurl you to the ground, and cast your broken limbs into the volcanoes of Hacknor and Hawaii.

Everything you have built will fall under the might of WEST ROSEN, DESTROYER OF WORLDS!

MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Love,

West Rosen

PS: Just look outside your window. I dare you.

Captain Xavier

2008-07-11T13:48:00.005-05:00

"Sheila!" I heard a raspy, pudgy sounding voice shout through the intercom on the receptionist's desk. "Send in the next client!"

The terminally bored looking girl didn't even glance up from the emery board gliding across her two inch long electric green fingernails. As the large pink bubble of her gum popped, she nodded absently towards the door.

I rolled through it and into the office of J'onn Sinew Nu, Vice-Corporate Toady of Something Or Other. His office was plastered from top to bottom with brown leather, obviously signifying a manly blend of power and taste. Back in the 70's. His eyes left the stock performance sheets he was holding and glanced at a paper on his desk.

"Ex He-Whore, right?" he said. "Have a seat my boy."

I glanced down at my wheelchair. "I'm already sitting, thank you."

Sinew Nu did a double take at the paper he read my name off of. "He-Whore, huh? How did you like that?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I told him.

"You handle. Your nom-de-ring. Ex He-Whore. We might have to change that. Not very family friendly."

"My name is not Ex-whatever. It's X-av-ier. Professor Xavier."

"Hmm . . a little stuffy. Kind of stuck up. How about Captain Xavier? Or Captain X? Yeah, that could be interesting."

"My name is Professor Xavier and I am not changing it. I do also hold three doctorates if you would rather use the title of doctor."

At that, for the first time Sinew Nu looked up from his papers and focused his gaze on me. He tried his best to give me a piercing gaze, his intent stare obviously meant to intimidate me. I stared back with equal force.

Slowly his eyes turned down. Then they opened widely. "You're in a wheelchair?" he practically shouted in disbelief. His tone was more accusatory than inquisitive.

"Yes," I replied coldly.

"Well that won't do at all," he said. "How are you suppose to wrestle and fight in that?"

"I don't intend to-"

"I got it!" he shouted while snapping his fingers. His face lit up with a smile. "The chair could be your gimmick. We could use it to get sympathy for you. Yeah, that's it. Maybe we could paint it red, white and blue! Hang flags off of it. Have sparklers along the back! We can call you 4th of July Man!"

"That sounds like a horrible idea."

"Look He-whore, you gotta work with me here. You're stuck in this chair and we have to-"

"Actually," I interrupted, "I don't really need the chair." I stood up to prove this.

With his jaw hanging open, Sinew Nu stared at me in disbelief. "You're fakin' being in a wheelchair? Wow. That is low. So how come? For the parking spots?"

"No, of course not," I said with offense. "I use it . . well . . because I had to use it for a long time and people just kind of expect it. I get looked at very oddly if I'm not in the chair."

Sinew Nu continued staring. It was apparent from his expression that he did not believe me. I felt compelled to continue.

"Well the truth is, I do also get some sympathy from the chair. Particularly from the ladies. It basically guarantees me at least second base on the first date."

The silence in the room persisted for a long, uncomfortable time. Finally Sinew Nu's face broke out again into a beaming smile. "I got it!" he yelped with another snap of his fingers. "We'll make you a villain! Doctor X! How do you look in black?"

Mission Eight: Being the Product

2008-07-10T20:22:00.000-05:00

John Sununu, the Republican from New Hamphire, or so I thought. I had my GOP Membership card ready. It would have earned me some mega-brownie points.

Turns out this J’onn Sinew Nu character is just some overweight alien. Luckily, like Republicans, money was his only concern.

"I'm the perfect gladiator," I began my presentation. "Notice how my nickname, HRG stands for Horn-Rimmed Glasses, the glasses, of course, being my signature trademark."

I clicked to the next slide.

"By simply replacing the word glasses with gladiator, I become the Horn-Rimmed Gladiator. It's perfect, and has rather satanic connotations, a must for capturing that elusive caveman demographic."

I continued on with my presentation...

"With the signature glasses comes the possibility for endless merchandising. Everything not yet wearing horn-rimmed glasses can be produced by us with the vision-augmenting, and stylish, spectacles, then sold with an enormously high markup to the general masses."

"How high of a markup?" the VP asked.

"Umm...upwards of seventeen hundred percent," I answered quickly doing no math in my head.

J'onn seemed impressed. I continued on to the next slide.

"Horn-rim your little gladiator."

"Horn-Rimmed Gelatin."

"Yes, yes. That is a good plan. But I feel we need some more products. Man cannot live by bread alone, ya know. Say...could we put some of those glasses on bread?"

I clicked on to the next slide.

J'onn giggled gleefully. As he calmed down he said, "Go on."

"Well, I understand your concerns about the limitations of glasses. Eye wear can only do so much. That's why my special talent involves....."

"Paper! It's everywhere. I even suspect that many computers have paper inside them where they write down information for retrieval later. Yes, paper is the new frontier in this digital age. And it's relatively cheap! One sheet of paper only costs the expenses associated with the growing and logging of two hundred trees!"

"But how do we make something like paper into a product?" J'onn asked.

"We make IGE brand paper. Then give away free IGE pens to everyone attending a gladiator match. But the IGE pens will only write on IGE paper! So they'll have to go out and buy our paper, lest their free pens be useless!"

I had him just where I wanted him. Time for the big surprise.

"Did I mention I died once? That's right! I died, and came back to life. If there's anything forty-seven years of being a caveman has taught me, it's that people love a good demigod. Put me in the ring and you'll have God on your side. Just think of how many seats a church fills week after week."

"Hmm...so far, so good," Sinew Nu said. "But what about your fighting style? I hear one gladiator is exploding heads with telekinesis. Another is running people over with his wheelchair. What have you got?"

I thought about shooting him, to make my point. But that would have most likely lost me this challenge. So, instead, I shot the monkeyboy assistant.

"He'll probably be okay. If my monkey anatomy is correct, then I believe I just shot him in the head."

"Hmm...well, I'll need to buy, I mean, hire, another monkeyboy, but other than that I like what you have to offer. I'll let my accounts play with the numbers and get back to you."

I shook Sinew Nu's hand and left, feeling like I made the sale.

challenge 8 Superboy: Are you ready?

2008-07-08T13:39:00.014-05:00

Man a gladiator gimmick this is awesome! I have so many ideas I can't wait to run them by J'onn! And they are all shot down in the meeting. “No one in this sector likes all the rebellion ideas they like clear cut heroes and villains with no gray areas. Now why don't you go into the Gimmicktron 5,000?"

It was this big cylinder thing all silver and cold it had all these buttons attached to it, it kind of had like a Star Trek transporter feel to it I walk in and The VP maniacally pushes buttons and I'm changed.

“Yes since you are from Earth this will be perfect Kon the Barbarian!"

"Yeah this is great." I lie. “But He-Man called he wants his everything back."

The rich dude rubbed his chin. “Yes it has been done hasn't it? How about this? You're a clone right? That's very science fictiony!"

“Um aren't you from a planet with faster than light space travel?" I ask.

He looks up from the control panel.

“Never mind." I roll my eyes. He presses the buttons and I'm changed to this.

“I can't move my arms without breaking this suit!" I protest.

“Let’s try this then Supernanny!" He gleefully taps the key board.

“Did you somehow confuse me with Sylar?" I grind my teeth.

“Yes, yes that is simply horrifying. Speaking of horror I heard you came back from the dead so how about Zombie Kon!"

After a flash of light I want to eat the flesh of the living.

“Not... Cool!" I moan.

“Hmmm. I see your point two brain eaters on one show no not good." Again he presses a button. “I’ve mixed gamma rays, and Red Kryptonite to get this, tell me what do you think?"

“Kon no like! Turn Kon back or Kon will crush!" He turns me back, and since the Gimmicktron broke I was told to wait for it to be fixed. IGE was out taping Throwdown. Apparently Cassie had a bad experience here too so we went to the ring to complain. See our entrance here.

When we started criticizing The IGE, a bunch of gladiators jump us. We would have had no problems, if two of them weren't Daxamites Aliens with Kryptonian like powers.

Then something strange happens my old enemy Vincent, Vegeta's kid Along with his girlfriend Batgirl come to the ring. One of the Announcers yells “Superboy’s in trouble now!"

To the surprise of everyone, he knocks out the other gladiators with something he calls “The Blue Blood Face Buster." Such a jerk, yeah he's royal so what? After we knock down all the gladiators we get in each others faces.

The color commenter shouts " Yes we're going to see a fight between some of the youngest and strongest in the galaxy wait what are they doing?"

“Ladies and Gentlemen boys and girls we' are the Next Gen!" I grin. “And we’re putting Mr. Sinuew Nu on notice!"

Vincent takes the microphone. “He called me here to and gave me this lame thing where I acted like my dad and said stuff he always said, Bah! Loser! The problem is I'm young, and he's jealous!This is why we've put aside our differences. " He puts his arm around Batgirl. “And he can't get a chick this hot, In fact I saw the last woman J'onn was with. She has a beard thicker than my granddad’s, and he had to pay her. She still made him put a bag on his head."

The audience laughed. Wonder girl took a microphone. “I’m trained by the Amazons, my spooky friend, here is one of the best fighters on our world, and he just wanted us to look pretty, and wrestle in bra and panties matches! Guess that's the only way he can see girls like that, well without beards anyway. "

Batgirl refused the microphone. I took it back bit before I can say anything, Sinew Nu Comes out with some security guards. “You little fools need get out of my ring or I'll force you out!"

“For the last time I won't go back and wear drag for you!" I grin. Throwing a hot dog cart at him with TTK. “Ha! Guess that proves something! You like wieners!"

People in the audience laughed as J'onn and his security guards slipped and fell in mustard and ketchup. After we posed for the audience a bit, getting a huge pop. We go to the back J’onn laughed " They seem to like the whole rebel gimmick glad I thought of it!"

I shake my head, while he goes on. “You and your little friends keep up with the juvenile humor and the bone crushing fights, and we can be in business sell a lot of merchandise and make you kids rich, me too.

“Like I care." Vincent snarls.

“Hey dude not all of our mothers are billionaires." I interrupt. “Some of us are cloned from mild mannered reporters." So after some negotiations it seems we all get a good amount of money from merchandise, and a few matches coming up. Not bad.

There's No Sex In Your Violence

2008-07-08T06:38:00.009-05:00

Impress a rich fat cat? That's easy. Challenge won! All I'd have to do would be to look my hottest and use my femininity as an advantage.

Wearing my most sexy dress with full use of my cleavage-generation powers and donning a cute five o'clock shadow to match it, I walked into the office of J'onn Sinew Nu. When I saw him, I threw up in my mouth a little. But I knew what I like, had to do, and after swallowing my vomit, I walked up to him and sat on his lap.

"Hey big boy," I started seductively, "wanna go back to my place and peel some apples?" What provocative innuendo I used!

J'onn looked confused. "Who are you, miss? I was under the impression that all the women from my competition were eliminated?"

"Well, you were wrong! It's me, Sylar, the sexiest female there is!"

Then, J'onn threw up in his mouth a little. But he didn't swallow it. "Homosexuality? That may work for cute little ones like Clay Aiken. But for vile, hairy beasts like you? I think not."

"But what about Richard Hatch from Survivor?"

J'onn shuddered. "Don't you ever, ever bring that name up again. Anyways, that character trait wouldn't make me any money."

I pouted, and then said, "Is that all you care about, making money?"

J'onn nodded.

"So, my one dimension doesn't line up with yours, does it?"

"I'm afraid not," he replied.

I sat there, dejected for a while. But suddenly, a thought hit me. "Man-love wasn't all I cared about! I wasn't one dimensional! I was two dimensional!" I exclaimed in thought.

"Wait a minute," I said to J'onn, "man-love isn't all I care about! I'm not one dimensional! I'm two dimensional!"

"You just said that five seconds ago," J'onn replied.

"No, silly, I thought that!"

"No, you said it. First, you exclaimed it in self-narration, and then you said it to me," the fat man replied cooly.

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Oh," I said scratching my head.

We sat in silence for a while. I started to pick my nose and think about woodchucks. Wouldn't it be cool if they had wings? Then they could chuck wood as they flew!

"Ahem," J'onn said as I flapped my arms as if they were wings and gnawed on his desk.

"Yes?" I asked, confused.

"What's your second dimension?"

"I have a second dimension?" I asked. This guy was a weirdo!

"That's what you said! Man love, and..."

I waited for him to finish, but he just sat there. "Yes? Man love and what?" I asked him, hoping he'd continue.

"You tell me!" he yelled.

J'onn was boring me. "I'm bored. I wish I could be out killing people."

Suddenly, J'onn's face lit up. He had like, figured something out, something almost as profound as flying woodchucks. "That's it! That's your second dimension! You're an insane murderer!"

"I'm a what now?"

"You're a murderer! Your produce violence! Earthlings loves violence! They're always hitting people over the heads with clubs in their mating rituals! You'll rake in the advertising dollars!"

Clapping my hands and giggling like a schoolgirl, I burst out, "So that means I can keep chopping skulls?!"

"Chopping skulls?" J'onn mused, "That's so last week. We'll need something new...something edgy. I've got it! Can you slice open people's stomachs and play jump-rope with their intestines?"

I shook my head. "Too icky."

We both sat in thought for a moment. And then I had one of those things where your head hurts and there's pictures. An idea!

"I know! What if I make people's heads explode?!"

"Can you do that?" J'onn asked with interest.

I shrugged. "I dunno."

J'onn pressed down a button on an intercom on his desk. "Doris, can you come in here, please?" he asked his secretary to come into the room, giving me a wink.

She walked into the room and asked J'onn what he wanted.

"Oh, we were just testing something," he responded to her, giving me another wink.

"What were you testing?" she asked.

"If Sylar could do something," J'onn said, giving me a third wink. I think he was coming on to me!

"IF Sylar could do what?" she asked again.

"Kill you!" J'onn said, laughing maniacally, and wringing his hands! I started giggling too, this was so funny! My belly hurt from the silliness! J'onn stopped laughing and looked at me.

"What so funny, silly billy?" I asked him between laughs. Like, what was I laughing at?

"Sylar, kill her!" he exclaimed.

"Oh yeah!"

Using my super mind trick, I like, totally blewed up her head. Brain chunks flew everywhere. J'onn seemed to like it. He shook my hand.

"Mr. Sylar," he began, "I believe we've come to understand each other."

"Like, totally!" I said, as I looked through the chunks of blown up Doris head to find some brains to eat.

Challenge #8

2008-07-06T21:34:00.004-05:00

Well Gladiators, since all the women are now gone (with the exception of Sylar, I guess) you can all relax now. There you go, let your bellies hang out. Go ahead and burp while you’re at it, too. You know you want to.

Unfortunately, you won’t have time to relax any more, J’onn Sinew Nu the Vice President of Marketing and Talent Coordination for the Intergalactic Gladiator Entertainment (formerly the Intergalactic Gladiator Federation until we lost that space lawsuit, thank you very much space hippies) wants to meet with each of you.

During your meeting, Sinew Nu will very likely want to discuss your persona with you. Of course, every Intergalactic Gladiator has a persona, the qualities and characteristics he or she brings to the ring. Billions upon billions of fans want to see a good gladiator match and as everyone knows, a good character carries that competition as well as good work rate.

Possibly the only hitch to your little meeting that I want to warn you about is that Sinew Nu is pretty one dimensional himself, he’s smart and a shrewd businessman but he only cares about the money he’s going to generate. He’s never actually been to Earth either, so he thinks it’s inhabited by cavemen or something. Don’t let him turn you into a caveman Gladiator, it’s been tried before and it never works!

The other thing Sinew Nu is going to want to talk to you about is the merchandising. His company Sinewco Industries handles all the merchandising for the IGE. The more popular you are, the more your merchandise will sell of course. Don’t worry you’ll get a percentage of the profits. It’s all in the contract.

Any questions? Nope?

OK, who’s first?

Last Gladiator Standing III was brought to you today by the Watchpeanuts.

Challenge 7, the vote

2008-07-06T20:34:00.003-05:00

Well Gladiators, who is the little brat that won't make it to the next round?

Who thought that becomming a little kid would be licence to bore us by pointlessly repeating that one thing that they saw that one time on that one show.

Who's got cooties?

Who brought down the house on the last challenge -- literally?

Erifia, you are not the Last Gladiator Standing, goodbye.

Stay tuned for the next challenge.

Last Gladiator Standing III was brought to you today by Pollo Jeans.

Pollo Jeans, the pants that taste like chicken!

Challenge 7 Winner

2008-07-06T14:19:00.011-05:00

You’d think I’d know not to stand too close the contestants. Always stand near Jon, always. But Jon was on camera, I’d just thrown one some clothes and forgotten my morning caf. I figured hanging outside of camera range would best. Which would be why I was near the contestants, not near Jon. Oh, did I mention it was also as far from Hudson as I could get?

*WWWZZZZRRAAPPP!!!!!*

Aww crud, I’m 12 again.

I didn’t like being 12. I got my first job at 12, as a body guard, which might explain my sudden anxiety someone is going to shoot me, or ask me a hard question about nation building or some junk like that. I’ll stick to easier stuff, like judging the contest.

Xavier: I like your shenanigans, very endearing. If only you had a partner in crime…

Erifia: I feel your pain, really I do. No one in their right mind wants to go through puberty again. Excellent use of cooties as a bioweapon, you utilized an asset against the appropriate target.

Noah: Ok, so I don’t feel you pain at being overweight, but I did feel some pain when you stepped on my foot earlier. I didn’t mean to laugh at your pain and discomfort, but I did.

West: Your drawings were so cute, gold star!

Sylar: Well, on the plus side, having the body of a 13 year old boy *is* the best way to fit into all those goth clothes you like. Boobies are overrated anyways.

Kon-El: Wow, you’re going have to bring a lot of flowers and gifts next mother’s day to makeup with Lois after blowing up her apartment.

This was a really hard choice. And Jon, being the big meanie that he is, says I can’t give trophies to all of you. After conferring with the other judges and this totally cute guy who works on crew, we have decided that...

Professor X, you are the winner.

But West, here is an extra gold star, and Noah, here’s some sugar free jello. Great job, everybody.

X-Baby

2008-07-04T19:26:00.017-05:00

Jon expects me to step into this device where I will revert in age, somewhere between 4 and 13? Well it better be 13. That's when my powers developed. It wasn't long after that, that I started to lose my hair. I'm a natural blond, you know.

Jon also wants us to maintain a journal about our experiences. I had best obtain some copyright protection, in case he has any funny ideas about reprinting my writings. I'm using a tape recorder to take down my observations.

Entering the transformation room, I can see that there is no one else present. I might as well dispense with the farce then. I am stepping out of my wheelchair. The metal tower in the center of the chamber is already emitting a fantastic array of colors. Weird energy is coursing through my body. I can feel myself changing. My body is . . shrinking and . .

Well this totally sucks! I'm a midget! An' . . an' I don't have any of my cool ass powers! How am I suppose to pay back that old fart-head with the glasses? An' none of these stupid clothes fit! I'm suppose to run around this place with my weenier hangin' out? Fine. Enjoy the show.

Oh, I see the old hosebag runnin' this game left some clothes out. Great. It's his fault I'm so short and don't have none of my kickass powers. He's the one who outta pay. Yeah, that's it. I'll get revenge on Jon. Heh heh.

Monday

I got the perfect plan! I got to whisper so no one can hear me. I'm sneakin' up to Jon's room. The poophead's not in. Heh heh heh.

Just walk across the room. Good. Go into the bathroom. Climb up on the hamper . . easy does it now . . yeah. Now I'm hanging a hidden video camera up . . oh this is great! Whoops! No . . no . . I got it. Okay, now to get the heck out of here and back to my room.

He's coming! Hide! Whew, that was close. I'm under the bed and I can hear his big feet walkin' by. Okay, he's in the bathroom. Now to beat it to my room!

This is great! I'm gonna put this all over YouTube! I'm flippin' on the monitor and . . AARRGGHHH!!!!!!! I'm blind! I'm blind! It's Granny Goodness and she's getting into the shower!!!

Tuesday

I'm stuck in the infirmary for the whole stinky day. That Granny's fat ass scarred me for life.

Wednesday

Okay, while I was in the infirmary I came up with the perfect plan. I'm going to take Jon's Danger Sled for a joy ride. Heh heh heh. This is going to be fun!

So I'm going to the teleporter tube. It totally takes me straight to the Danger Sled! Hmm, I'm lookin' at these controls and they seem a little . . confusing. Maybe this one? No, that didn't start it. Oh, must be this red button.

AARRGGGHHH!!!

HELP!! The ship is flyin' around out of control!! Somebody get me down! This stupid ship is going to crrasshhhhhh . . .

Thursday

So I'm in the lame ass infirmary again. Jon's dumb ship hit a satellite or somethin'. This sucks.

Friday

Okay, I had plenty of time to come up with a great plan. This one is perfect! I better wear a disguise though. I don't want stinkyhead Jon knowin' it was me.

Oh this gonna be great! I'm going to put waterballoons in all his shoes! When he steps into them, his feet are going to get all wet!!

I'm at the water fountain, fillin' up the first balloon. Oh man, I am so brilliant I amaze myself. The handle is kinda loose. Maybe if I turn it harder it - ARRGGHHH!!

*sputter* The stupid water is gettin' everywhere! How the heck is anyone suppose to turn this thing off?! I'm drowin' here!!

Well this just sucks.

Saturday

Well this whole week just blew. I wrecked Jon's ship. I flooded his hallway. I guess I better apologize. Sigh. He and Hudson went up to the satillite where the ship is being fixed. I'm going into the transporter to apologize to him.

. .

Heh heh heh.

Cooties and Sith-ladies (Padawan Erifia)

2008-07-04T13:32:00.001-05:00

When Jon took me into the room, I got prepared for the worst. You never knew what would happen with this machine… When he said I would become a kid, I cried. Not that I had much of a choice, I was ten.

For you humans. Twi’leks begin puberty at ten. Which meant I would have to deal with that all over again. Wonderful. In case you didn’t know, that’s scarcasm. I didn’t have a a good childhood. Between stupid dumb face and having a crush on Obi-Wan: Along with the rigors of Jedi-Training and being a tri’lek…

For those not in the know, Twi’leks are called twi’leks because they have twin lekkus. I have three. It was a birth ‘defect’ as far as the other kids were concerned. As soon as we got out of the place Professor X started making fun of me, “Look at the stupid tri’lek…”

I wasn’t surprised to see Aayla Secura sitting there with her hands together, her fingers meeting in a very sinister way saying, “Yes… Yes… Good… Good… Now tell her that Indigo is scarcely a color!”

It didn’t take too long for Kon-El to say, “Yeah! Indigo! That’s a girls color…” I put my hand on my hip, only because the last remnants of my adult thought processes were starting to fade, “I am a girl stupid!” I yelled and he looked at me, then said, “Really?”

My little eyes started to water as Aayla smiled wickedly, “Gabriel…” she said, “Tell her that she’s hideous, and masculine.” Gabriel looked at Aayla confused, “Call her ugly and tell her she’s got a mustache.” Gabriel cut in with that.

“Yeah!” I yelled, “Well… At least I’m not a Fatty!” I said pointing to Bennet. Who isn’t a mister anymore, and then I yelled at West, “And a stupid head!” It was then I realized that I had chose two people who had not made fun of me, and I felt bad as I saw there eyes water like mine… I ran from the room. That was terrible…

I ran to the ship and when I went on, Becca the Magnificant and Tatooine were still playing with that wooden cup and the ball on a string. I looked at them, they looked up at me. Seeing my clothes and how loose they were it didn’t take too long for the taun-taun to figure it out, but Becca on the other-hand, “Who are you?” Tatooine using the universal translator collar from Langoria said, “It’s mommy, stupid.” Becca then looked at Tatooine and Tatooine looked at Becca and then they looked at me and broke into a loud guffaw.

I ran to my room and threw myself on the bed, and started crying. It was so much bigger then what I remembered… I opened my closet and pulled out my flight jacket. My clothes from childhood. I put them on, and I grabbed my rifle.

As a child I never went anywhere with my sniper rifle. It was- My bread and butter before I got my light sabers.

~*~

Soon I was approached by a woman who I didn’t know… She looked familiar but I couldn’t remember her. She extended her hand, “Hello Erifia,” she said with a very kind smile, “My name is Nepharia… You don’t remember me, do you?”

I shook my head no. She sat down next to me on the bench, “You’re on Fire-Island Sixteen. Do you remember that woman, who urged the kids to make fun of you?”
“Yes! That was Aayla, except she was older.”
“How about we kill her, Erifia. You and I…”
“What?”
“Yes, we can go kill her… And Professor X, and Kon-El… We can even kill Jon too… How does that sound?”
“Whose Jon?”
“He’s a member of the Sith. Professor X and Kon-El are sith too… And Aayla has been converted to the dark side… But not us, Erifia… We have to stop them…”

I don’t know why, but I believed her.

“Good Erifia,” she said, “Here are your lightsabers…”
“But I don’t know how to use them…”
“You’ll know, trust me.”

~*~

As we came upon them, Kon-El and Professor X were being bought Ice-Cream by Aayla Secura. I looked at them. They looked at me… When I pulled out my gun and I shot at Aayla’s head, and she dropped her head down. She withdrew her sabers and Nepharia laughed as she sent out Sith Lightning towards Professor X and Kon-El. Wait! What?

“I’ll kill you!” shouted the woman.

Aayla blocked the lightning and she sent it towards me. I whipped around with my sabers and I held them ready… Then I dropped them, and it dropped through the floor hitting the ground. Aayla force shoved Nepharia out of the building, and Nepharia pulled her out, leaving me with the boys.

Jon walked up with another man casually and sat at the bar, “I’ll have soup and a coffee…” He said and he looked at Hudson, “I’d like five hot-dogs, with beans on them all, smothered in mustard and butter…”

Professor X forced himself into my mind and made me bust my own head on the floor while Kon flew over me aiming a bunch. I shoot it off, a little dazed.

“You’re such a pig…” Jon said, “Why are you my sidekick again?”
“Because you get bored without me…”
“Yeah- Well that’s true.”

Kon-El flew over their heads and took out a waitress. Professor X made me spin around and then slammed my head into the ground again. That little crippled kid… I would get him…

“Did you see Erifia? She’s looking hot…”
“Dude. She’s like 10 or something… I love torturing those contestants, and they pay me for it…”
“Dude it must be sweet being you.”
“Besides dealing with you it is…” Said Jon.

I thought for a second, and I pushed my conciousness into the third lekku, which gave me enough time to jump on his lap, “Hey X,” I said with a growl, “I’m a girl.” He looked at me confused and then got a scared look on his face, “I have cooties…” I said, “Big ones…” He tried to get me off of him and as Kon came flying into Professor X, and I jumped above him.

“Dude!” Professor X said, “She has cooties!” Kon who up until that point had been trying to hurt me started backing away. He flew into the wall, which brought the whole place down revealing Nepharia walking away from Aayla who was holding her blade at the ready. Professor X got his little wheelchair and made it go as fast as he could as I chased after him.

Jon and the other man were still sitting there, “Hudson, is it drafty in here?”
“Nope. You’re just a wimp!” he said punching his arm, “I wonder when my bean-dogs are going to get done.”
“Hopefully never I have to drive you back to HQ.”

I sighed… I can’t wait to grow up.

~*~

After I got my age back to normal, after a long grueling week of mood swings, cooties, and nasty names, I looked at Jon and I slapped him.

“Stop messing with my life! And treat Hudson Better, You only get one sidekick!”
“Yeah!” Hudson said, “You heard the hotty..”
I slapped him, “That’s for calling a ten year old hot.”

Adolescent Hugs and Adult Kisses,
Erifia Apoc

Mission Seven: Paperweight

2008-07-04T10:45:00.002-05:00

BBBBBBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!!!!!!!

I felt the surge all over my body as Jon turned on the age zapping machine.

Suddenly, everything was blurry. I reached up to my glasses, thinking they had fallen off. But, no. They were still on my face. I slowly removed them and my vision became clear.

"I can see!" I screamed.

"Yeah, well I've got hair!" the little professor announced proudly.

"Um," I scanned his shiny and youthful dome, "no, you don't."

Boy Xavier felt of his head, then exclaimed, "Drats!"

I turned to The Haitian and said, "Well, looks like we got a week off from this competition. Just because I'm young again is no reason we can't go sell some paper!"

He stared at me. "Do you really think you are in any shape for bagging and tagging?"

"What are you talking about?" I asked. As I flexed my arms I said, "I've never felt better. Young. Full of vigor!"

"Alright," he replied. I followed him to the door.

But as soon as I got there, I was suddenly out of breath. "Go...on without....me," I said leaning against a kid Twi'lek. "I just....need to catch....my breath."

"Sir, look." The Haitian handed me his compact.

"Why...do you...carry....a compact?" I asked.

"..." He didn't respond.

I flipped it open and looked in the mirror.

"NoOoOoocoOoOOOoO........OoOoOoooOOOooOOO!" I screamed.

I was fat. Again. How could Jon be so sick and cruel? This had to have been Henchman's idea. This was indeed the most perverse challenge yet. But I had to handle it.

I defeated obesity once, I could do it again!

I called up my other Black friend, Shaquille O'Neal.

"Yeah, man, sure, I can do that, man."

The next day he arrived on Hacknor with a load of other fat kids, ready to whip us into shape.

"Alright, you fat losers kids, man. We're going to get you into shape. Let me hear you roar!"

A few kids begged for tacos and another cried for his mother.

"Not bad, but we can do better. Let me hear you roar!" he repeated.

Silence. I said, "Could we skip the roaring and just start the weightloss?"

"Sure thing."

"Alright, plunky butts," he began. "Let's do it to it."

We all looked around at each other. I wasn't sure what he wanted us to do to it, and neither was anyone else. We stood there for about a minute when Shaq finally said, "Sit ups!"

We all laid on our backs. It was rather comfortable, and I would have fallen asleep if Shaq didn't scream insults at me and force me to do three sit ups.

"I can't do anymore!" I cried. "Let me eat some cheesecake!"

Shaq stood up, towering above us all. He clapped his hands and said, "Not bad for the first day. But you're still a bunch of lardos. We'll push it harder tomorrow."

And we did.

He had us run nearly five yards!

As the week progressed, I was feeling hopeless. I wasn't losing any weight and we were just being pushed harder and harder by Shaq. It was tiring. Every day I was exhausted. So exhausted, all I could do when I got back to my room was eat five bowls of Frosted Mini-Wheats and twelve Poptarts before dozing off for the night.

On the last day, we all stood around wondering what exercises we'd be doing. We feared the worst, but were relieved to see him arrive holding a syringe.

"Intravenous food!" one fat boy screamed. Several fatties charged him. He stuck his arm out and knocked them all unconscious.

When they awoke, he began, "This here is steroids, man."

"Isn't that illegal?" someone asked.

"I don't know, man. I ain't a lawyer. I just do what I do, you know, and I do it and if it's good then things work, you know."

We shook our heads.

He approached us one at a time and administered the shots.

"Alright, chubby checkers. Let's see you do some push ups, man."

The last day ended, and I was feeling pretty sad. The week was over and I didn't feel like I had accomplished anything.

Until I looked in the mirror.

"Nice, Bennet," I said to my reflection. "Now, let's find that professor kid and beat him crippled."

Ch. 7: West vs. Childhood

2008-07-04T09:57:00.012-05:00

Sonic Sez!

Bring It On!

2008-07-04T09:08:00.002-05:00

I opened my eyes. I turned to my left, then to my right. To my surprise, I saw the hottest, most cutest, delightfulest man-toy I'd ever seen.

"Oh my God, you're like, so hot!" I shrieked to him, my mouth watering. "Look at that sexy peach fuzz!"

Looking around I saw a class of people staring at me. Like, what was going on? The last thing I remembered, I was in some room, with electical thingies and switches. Now, I was in a classroom.

I looked down at myself. Where were my hot girly clothes? I was wearing a sweatshirt with a mustard stain on it! I peaked into my sweatshirt. Where there were once bountiful bosoms, there were now only breast buds! What was going on?!

"Cleavage-generation powers, activate!" No response! My buds didn't even sprout an inch. I started to cry.

"Gabriel? Gabriel Gray? Do we have a problem?" asked the teacher.

"Yes! My boobies are missing!" I answered.

The bell rang. The class starting moving towards the door. I followed them, wondering where to go next. I stopped in the hall, and saw a sign that said "Cheerleading Tryouts - Today in the Gym." Well, what do you know? It seemed I was young again! By the look of my breast buds, I'd say I was 13. And now, with these tryouts, I'd have a chance to fulfill my dream of being a cheerleader! Hooray! I headed towards the locker room to get changed.

I got into uniform, and damn did my 13 year old body look sexy. Proceeding on, I moved to the gym, where I was greeted by the coach.

"Um, you know, there are male cheerleading uniforms, too, right?" she asked.

"Oh, I know. But those don't do justice to my sexiness."

In the stands sat the hot boy from my class. He looked down at me and laughed. "Hey everyone, look! It's Gabriel Gay!" Everyone laughed at his like, totally awesome insult!

I fired back a comeback. "Oh yeah, well, you're like, totally hot!"

He snorted, "Hey everyone! Gabriel Gay is talking all Gay!"

I was furious. I lifted my finger, ready to chop some skulls. But I couldn't! My super mind trick, I didn't have that power anymore either! How would I like, defeat my super hot crush arch-nemesis now?

I had an idea. I walked into the stands to face him. "Yeah, what do you want, Gay?"

"I want you, sexy." And with that, I planted a huge kiss on his face. We're talkin' a real makeout session here. And it was hot. His manly fuzz tickled my lips. It was worth the punch in the face I got two seconds later.

So now, I lie on the ground, with a black eye and a tent pitched. The super cute boy is being accused of homosexuality, and I'm being offered a spot on the cheerleading team by the coach.

"Well," she said, "since you're the only boy to try out, we have a spot for you on our team. But, you'll have to wear the guy uniform."

"NOOooOOcoOOooOOOoOO!" I shrieked in dismay.

And so, I spent the rest of my week as a 13 year old touching young girls and looking up their skirts. What a waste.

Challenge 7:The adventures of superbrat.

2008-07-03T13:41:00.010-05:00

Day 1

"Sorry Mr. Superman But we can't keep a seven year old child with this much raw power on Hacknor he keeps throwing things into the volcanoes."

Daddy looks at the smelly man the boss man of the gladiators. Sinew new “What kind of things?"

" Space ships, giant boulders, space monsters, cars, Private Hudson."

“Big fire rock go boom!" I tell them. “Want me to show you?"

“No Kon that's okay. We'll take you back to Earth until this wears off."

Mommy Lois seems weirded out. “Clark he was never a child are you sure he shouldn't be in the Fortress?"

“He’ll be fine Lois."

Day two

I drew pretty pictures all over the apartment. Mommy Lois was mad; her stupid white walls were ugly anyway.

Day Three

Lois can't tell me what to do She made me sit in the corner; I blew up the apartment with heat vision! So there!

Day Four

Daddy said I should spend the day with my friends Instead he put me with a bunch of smelly teenagers, and a blonde who kept calling me "cute." She kept hugging me and said " I'm what our, kids will look like. EEEW Cooties! But there's all this cool stuff here that look like bats for some reason.

A Bat car, a bat plane even a bat TV. I want to drive the bat car! I get in and then when I start it I remember I don't know how to drive. I hit a wall I’m okay but the car is broke.

Maybe no one will see that.

Day five
this mean kid named Damian keeps telling me he's my boss, because Batman bosses around Superman.

I showed him! I hung him by his underwear on the spike thing at the Empire State Building. Try being my boss now poopy brains!

Day 6

Daddy put me in the Fortress It's boring here, I painted Krypto green, and that was fun for a little while. I escape the Fortress and paint Batgirl's costume pink. She's a girl she shouldn't be wearing all black.

"My Costume! Who did this? AAAAH!"

She should be happy she doesn't look ugly anymore. Oh I found this robot thing called Brainiac! He had this gun that shrinks things I took it, and used on him yay new toy!

Day 7

My new toy Brainiac broke. He keeps screaming. I get tired of it and throw him down the toilet.

Next day.

Man last thing I remember is Jon taking us into a room, and having a weird grin on his face. Um why am I in the Fortress of Solitude? And why is my costume so short?

Challenge #7

2008-06-30T22:21:00.005-05:00

OK gather around Gladiators, First off, I want you to notice on my right your left that the teams have been merged. Congratulations all on getting this far.

Now, I know some of you recognize the room you’re in.

You’re thinking, Gee, isn’t this the room where our genders were changed on us right beneath our noses and/or other body parts? or Gosh, Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator, I’m pretty sure that this is the room that the contestants were in last year when their minds were switched around into other bodies.

Well you’re right and you’re wrong. Here, let me demonstrate by throwing this switch here. See? Your genders weren’t reversed and your minds weren’t thrown into someone else’s body, you were just transformed into a younger version of yourself is all.

Of course, it’s not an exact science, I’m not sure how young you all became, it’s somewhere between 4 years old and 13, you know between cute and obnoxious.

Your challenge is to live in this form for a week and report on your adventures. Let us know what happened and all. Don’t worry, the effects of this transformation really only last a week.

Give or take a few days…

Like I said, it’s not and exact science.

Last Gladiator Standing III is brought to you by

Spider-Man XVI, now in theaters.

Challenge #6, the vote

2008-06-30T17:59:00.005-05:00

Well Gladiators, who in the baseball game of love just struck out?

Who instead of finding true love on the Love Boat Leviathan found a great big handful of jack squat?

Who thought the phrase "Love is a battlefield" meant that you must include mustard gas?

Who's stranded all alone in the gas station of love
And has to use the self-service pumps?

Nepharia, you are not the Last Gladiator Standing, goodbye.

Stay tuned for the next challenge.

Last Gladiator Standing III was brought to you today by Keeping Up With the Kardassians.

Keeping Up with the Kardassians now exclusively on the Intergalactic Gladiating Network.

Judgement , this time...

2008-06-29T19:33:00.004-05:00

Ladies and Gents,

I am sorry to say for me this was the worst round yet. I quite don't get what most of you were going for. You shouldn't try and do a Gyrobo post,you can't beat his. Majority of your post were blah.

Erifia Apoc; Did you even try to think about your challenge? I expect much better from you. For shame.

Professor X; With your powers, this round should of been in the bag for you. A couple of mind wipes and bam. You wasted this chance to be petty, and I like petty. However, you couldn't man up. Just like when I took your girlfriend. What did you do...Nothing, you didn't take a stand.

Sylar; Bald Brittany Spears called, she wants her shtick back. Remember you are given guildlines. Use them to help your post. At times you were funny.

Kon-El; Congrats, you followed the rules. That was good, however, you seem to lose steam in the middle. Take a step back every now and again.

Mr. Bennet; You did the almost the right mixture of wacky to guidelines ratio. You got a little lost there. Focus and this thing is yours to lose.

Nepharia; Are you sure you aren't the one who went overboard...If you are going to bully people( which I don't mind), make it funny.

West; This maybe be your best post yet. You went a little manic with Wil Wheaton, but I dug it. Next time, make your post a bit tighter.

The winner of this sad sad round is....

...

...

...

West.

Send your votes to Jon, folks.

Dental for all.

Dr.Polaris rules.

World of Erifiacraft (Erifia)

2008-06-27T22:25:00.005-05:00

This is a cake walk… Without a doubt, the easiest challenge ever. I have to do what I moonlight for as my cover for the Temple. I have to entertain… I am a dancer, that’s absolutely what I am best with. I am poetry in motion and I can hypnotize any men I’d like with my lekkus…

But I’ve used all my dances up… Not that there is a limit, its just that’s watching the same thing over and over again. That’s tired, that’s old…

What if I did stand up comedy?

I might insult the professor who can’t sit down.

What if I killed sith from a remote location?

I might upset that stupid ugly Nepharia, and last time I did something like that she sicked a womp-rat on me.

What if I juggled kryptonite?

I might get kryptonite poisoning like Luther, and upset the kin of Superman.

So… What should I do? I don’t have anymore dances… I can’t do any of my other things that I could do…

I sighed, and went to the docking bay of the big living ship thing… Whatever it was called, like it’s important… Levitation… Lesmagorian… Liverpuller… Who knows? My ship was there and I got on it… Becca the Magnificant and Tatooine were playing some sort of game, it involved a ball on a string, and a wooden cup, they were both trying to get it in, “What can I do to be entertaining?” Becca looked at me, Tatooine looked at me, and they both broke out into a loud guffaw… I sighed. I was going to lose… It was a long run…

I went to my bedroom, and there was the glow of a computer screen, and a man in front of it with an afro the size of big child’s ball. He turned to me and hissed loudly. It was the author…

“What are you doing here?” I asked him with a pointed glare.

“Shutup, I’m busy…”

“What are you doing?” I walked up, and he hid the screen from me.

“None of your business,” he said shortly, and then held a button down, “Okay… What do you think our chances of survival are?”
The computer spoke back but it was someone else’s voice, “33.35%”

“Are you watching some sort of interactive porn?”

“No! It’s a game, stop it!”

“What kind of game…”

“Shutup!” He held a button, “Hold on guys, some stupid twi’lek is bothering me… Don’t pull yet.”
“Sure thing. Is that the one from your blog? Tell her she’s hot.”
“You’re hot,” he said to me.

“So now I’m a stupid twilek, I need your help…”

“I can’t right now, I’m playing a game...” He said moving so I could see… He was playing some sort of online fantasy game, and the character he was using looked like me except with fangs, hair and a wicked looking set of armor.

“OK, guys let’s finish this boss,” he said, “I hope that epic loot drops, I need that tier 4 token real bad, my crown is working, but only so much… Then I’m heading over to WSG and AV, where I hope we can cap up, not like last time when they took forever, and I got flagbearer sickness, and Vann has been taunting me forever… After that, the Midsummer Festival is on, I need Exodar, Darnassus, and SW, I got IF last night. Then perhaps you want to drop Ahune? I want that NCP, nothing beats a mini-FE, you know?”
“Yeah man, I hear ya!”
“I’m in for AV if you help me get my marks.”
“Cool, Ahune? I’ll meet you in CF-SP after you finish up.”
“Right on,” said the author, then he hit some buttons and sith lightning came from his hands, and soon he finished, hit a button or two, and then he turned to me, I looked at the screen confused.

“Why aren’t you at home- Blue eyes doesn’t know, does she?”
“Nope. And you have great internet… Man, it’s like… Fifty-thousand times faster then on earth.”
“Okay… Whatever… So… Help me!” I looked over the shoulder and saw that the character was doing something. He then turned and stopped doing it…
“She was dancing!” I exclaimed, “What was that dance?”
“It was just /dance crazy Twilek.”
“Dude, do it again, that’s perfect, its exactly what I need.”
“Okay… Whatever…”

He did it…

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In case the Embed doesn't work.

It looked something like that.

I grabbed some of my clothes. Some red ones, red usually clashed, I ran to my drawer, grabbed a pair of Fire-Island 9,393,456,102’s famous fire-gloves, and I grabbed out my fake pit of coals.

Perfect… A fiery dance for the ages.

~*~

I got up on stage, the lights were bright, but I liked it that way. I never had to look at my crowd that way. I walked out on stage, dropped my fake pit of coals, not turning it on yet… I stepped up. I put my hands on my hips, as music began to play.

I started with my arms, I moved them in a fluid motion, then I began to move my hips that have never lied to me. I moved them back and fourth slowly. Raising my arms in the air as I wiggled my body.

I smiled as I lit my hands on fire with the gloves. It burnt brightly and the lights died down. I started moving the hands towards my face and on my hips so the curves of my body could be seen.

With a sharp turn in the up-beat of the music, I hit the button on my fake fire, and it lit up brightly showing the whole of my body in a dull red glow, and I started to get into the more complicated hip movements and arm movements.

I finished it all off in a burst of red flame that shot me onto the ground near them where I landed with perfectly on the table of four very strange looking gentlemen.

(Jean Claude
Mr. T
Shatner
Verne Troyer)

They started clapping and stuffing my sleeves with green money, and I sighed… Perfect, at least I entertained someone.

Firey Hugs, and dna sguH yerif(ia),
Erifia Apoc

(A note from the Author- FOR THE HORDE!)

Mission Six and a Half: Escape from a Mad Black Woman

2008-06-27T19:47:00.002-05:00

"We're going to need your tongue, how you doin'!" she said from atop my helpless body.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRCCCCHHHHHH!!!!!" I screamed as she ripped the duct tape from my face.

"Ooh, yummy!" She licked her lips. "My very own mysterious man in horn-rimmed glasses," she said placing my glasses back on me. Corrected vision only made things worse.

"Wait!" I yelled.

She looked annoyed, "The Hell I won't!" She puckered her lips and made her way in for the kill, I mean, kiss.

"AIDS! Herpes! Mesothelioma!" I screamed.

She stopped her approach and asked, "What?"

"I've got all those diseases, ya know. I'm required by law to warn you."

She thought it over for a moment, then said, "I'll take my chances."

As she was about to do the dirty, the door was kicked open by The Haitian who was responding to my distress call from my ankle alarm which I activated as I was being dragged away by the Professor's drones.

"Well, it took you long enough!" I said.

"Sorry," he responded. "I was playing shuffleboard."

"Oooh, a threeway," the crazy whale of a woman said with glee. "How you doing!"

"Shoot her! Shooooot her!" I yelled.

BANG!

"Oh, no you didn't!" she hollered and fell off the side of the bed. Blood poured from her massive posterior as she stood up. She moved her hand behind her and felt the wound. "My junk!" she cried, then fainted.

The impact of her unconscious body hitting the floor caused the bed to shake. "Quick, untie me," I commanded to The Haitian. As I was freed I explained to him that I would need his help getting her to medical care.

He seemed confused. "Why would we give her medical care? Does she have a power?"

"Trust me." I called in some men to help us carry the beast to the medical ward.

Professor Xavier was sitting inside playing a game of chess with himself as I walked in alone. "Ah, Bennet...that was fast," he said smiling. "You know, if you ever need stamina lessons-"

"We've got a bullet injury, doc. It requires your immediate attention." I whistled and The Haitian and crew pulled the overweight victim inside. They rolled her over, exposing the wound.

"Hmm..." the Professor stroked his chin. "Yes, I'm afraid it looks fatal. There is nothing I can do."

"Well, you are the doctor," I said as Jon and the others came in inquiring about the ruckus.

"What happened to her?" Henchman asked.

"Is she alive?" Oneida questioned.

"She'll be fine," I reassured them. "We had an accidental weapons discharge in her hind quarters."

Many people snickered.

I continued, "We just need the doctor here to get the bullet out and stitch her back up."

The professor squinted as he repeated, "There is nothing I can do."

"What's up, Doc? Mental powers not working?" I asked patting The Haitian on the back. "My friend here has a tendency to put a damper on such mental powers like yours. Hope you don't need them for the operation."

Everyone stared at him, waiting. He stared back, then reluctantly picked up the surgical pliers.

We all waited outside as he operated. The Haitian kept the room shrouded in a mental block while we did. A few moments later, he rolled out.

"Well?" Jon asked. "Did she make it?"

"She'll be fine," Charles said. "It'll be a couple weeks before she's back up to full strength. But don't worry, Noah," he said tossing the bloody bullet at me. I caught it as he continued, "I'm sure she'll be ready to finish what you two started in no time."

As he rolled off, I asked Jon if I could shoot him.

"Not today, Bennet," Jon replied, "not today."

Xavier grumbles

2008-06-27T15:00:00.009-05:00

"This can't be right," I said to Jon. "I'm the ship's doctor?"

"Well yeah, but not really," he answered. "I mean you won't have to treat anyone or anything. The fact is, I just had to assign each player to a certain part so, you know . . "

"Well I just think it would make more sense for me to be the Captain, don't you? I am after all the head administrator of a large school full of very powerful mutant children. I have my own private army and I'm the most powerful telepath on the planet. Even on Hacknor."

"Yeah, I know that. Look, it really doesn't mean anything. It was random."

"You assigned the roles?" I asked, leadingly.

"Yes."

"Then you can re-assign them," I suggested.

"Well no, see, we already ran the promo and everything. I tell you what though, the next time we do a Love Boat challenge, you can be the captain."

"But Noah Bennet? The man is a sociopath."

"Oh, is that what this is about?" I heard Jon think as a knowing grin crossed his face. "I'm sorry," he said. "Look, I've got to run. I've got this, uh, thing."

With a sigh I rolled my chair over to the entrance to greet my passengers. The first to walk through the door was a rather odd looking, thin man who was making very strange ooh sounds.

"Ooooh . . this sooo exciting," he said in a bizarre, high-pitched, silted voice. Perhaps this man is a mutant. If so, Magneto can have him.

"My name is E-mo," he told me. "Ee-mo Phillips."

"Wonderful," I answered.

"I am looking forward to finding true love."

Walking in behind him was a tall, rather harsh looking old man with white hair. I looked again and realized it was Bea Arthur.

"I have always dreamed of going on an enchanted cruise," Emo droned own. "It would be there that all my hopes of finding the perfect mate would be realized."

Bea Arthur came to a stop next to Emo. As she glanced down at him, a look of condescending revulsion crossed her face. Perfect.

I reached into both of their minds and rearranged various elements. As they turned to look at each other, their eyes suddenly filled with glowing adoration. All at once they flew into each others arms and began passionately kissing. My stomach started to kick in protest.

"Please!" I whispered sharply. "Here's your room key. Go!"

As they skipped off, hand in hand, a loud thumping started to fill the ship. The floor began to shake with each thump. There, over the ramp, came Granny Goodness in a bikini. Everyone on the deck started screaming and running to jump over the rail.

Granny waddled over towards me. We were now the only people on the deck.

"Uh yes," she said. "My name is Goodness and I am here for some sweet, sweet lovin'."

I forced myself to look into her face. For the first time in my life, my mind was blank.

"Now what I want is a smart man," she told me. "And he has to be handsome. Someone in good shape. Oh, and he has to have a job. Something in management with a good salary. And maybe he has a hint of mystery, you know. But he's got to be intelligent. He's got to look intelligent. Maybe he has glasses or something."

Then a lightbulb went off.

I gave Granny a room key and told her to give me 10 minutes, her dream man would be waiting for her. Next I went below deck. Finding two strong looking crewmen, I took mental control of them. Then we hurried to the stern supply closet where Mr. Bennet was hiding himself as played with his Rainbow Brite collection.

"Grab him men," I told the two crewmen.

"What's the meaning of this, Professor?" Bennet spluttered. I wanted to tell him but I couldn't stop laughing.

I had the crewmen drag Bennet down to Granny's room and tie him to the bed. Bennet was yelping the most horrible things, so I had his mouth taped.

Then he stopped squirming as we all heard the pounding footsteps of Granny Goodness as she lumbered down the hall. A wicked grin crossed my face.

Granny appeared in the doorway. I decided to leave the two love-birds alone. As I rolled down the hall, a horrible wailing followed me. I realized, of course, that I could have simply taken over Bennet's mind. Perhaps made him think that Granny was Megan Fox or someone like that. But this was so much more fun. In fact, at the risk of my sanity, I decided I would just have to take one peek.

America's Funniest Love Boat

2008-06-27T06:37:00.006-05:00

Bob Saget put his arm around me. I felt a little nervous, this being my first date with him on this luxorious cruise ship, but I knew he liked me. I couldn't believe it! I may end up being D.J., Stephanie, and Michelle's new mommy!

Bob pulled out a portable DVD player. "Would you like to watch some home videos?" he asked. I nodded, and he began playing his movies.

"Here I am, riding my bike, and, whoa, I just flipped over the handlebars and knocked out my two front teeth! Hahaha. And now, here's another one, oh, I'm drunk. I'm running into things. I just knocked over my brother's $25,000 vase from ancient China! Hahaha. Oh, now, this one's a good one. I'm jokingly sexually accosting my mother. And here it is. Ooooh, right in the groin! Hahaha!"

Bob couldn't stop laughing. He was distracted. This was my chance! My chance to murder a B-list celebrity! I'd win the challenge for sure! I raised my finger, ready to chop some skulls, when I heard a voice.

"Sylar!"

I turned and saw Mr. Glasses.

"The challenge is to entertain some B-list celebrities, not murder them."

"It is? Awww. Can I kill him anyways?"

"No!" Mr. Glasses put his foot down.

"Then I'm leaving you!" I threatened.

"I'm not your husband, silly britches."

"Sure you are, we have the same last name! You're Captain Bennet Stubing. I'm Vicki 'Sylar' Stubing!"

"Sylar," he said, breathing heavily, "I am your father."

"No. No. That's not true! That's impossible!" I shrieked. "I hate you, daddy, I hate you!" I ran off, sobbing.

Bob sat there with Mr. Glasses, looking confused. "He wanted to kill me?"

"Well, yeah. Does anybody not want to kill you?"

"But, I thought he really liked me." Bob's eyes started to water, and he ran off, sobbing.

I walked down the Leviathan, all angry 'n stuff. Stupid daddy Glasses! Won't even let me kill people! I don't know how to entertain! Unless my entertaining involves killing people.

As I got near the ship's bar, I heard a familiar voice: "...I tell ya, he's insane. He got our ship piloted into the sun! If I hadn't gotten on an escape pod, I'd be dead! Not only that, but he didn't remember me in Batman! I mean, how many black Harvey Dents are there? Just one! I'm the only brother who could pull it off!"

I squealed in joy as I turned the corner and saw the love of my life, Billy Dee! Now, there was one man I could entertain, if you know what I mean- by sleeping with him, if you know what I mean- though there wouldn't be much sleeping involved if you know what I mean- we'd have sex.

He saw me, and snapped his finger, "Oh no you didn't," he said to me with sass. He turned to run, but I held him in place telekinetically.

"Stop! I'm here to entertain you," I informed him.

"I don't want no entertaining, you'll get me killed!" he responded.

It was then that Bob Saget, in his jealous rage, came up behind me and kicked me in the balls. I fell to the ground, and Lando along with me. As I rolled around on the ground, Bob started to laugh. Then, Lando's rage melted away, and he joined in. And even Luke Skywalker, who Lando was talking to, laughed, too. Then, the laugh track joined in!

I got up, in pain, and put my hand on Lando's shoulder. "Um, like, listen, sexy. I'm sorry I had your ship piloted into a sun. I just wanted to like, murder some peeps and eat some brains."

I turned to Bob Saget. "And I'm sorry, Bob, that I didn't get to kill you."

"It's not too late!" Bob said.

"And I'm sorry I didn't have sleep with you," Lando said, addressing me after I finished murdering Bob Saget. "I'm just not gay. Hmmm. I think I have a solution. Have you met my friend, Mark Hamill here?"

"Hey, sexy," Mark winked at me, and kissed my hand. Oooh, how dreamy.

"What a matchmaker I am. Now, let's all dance! Hit it, Don Johnson!"

And with that, Miami Vice guy, music legend, and teen heartthrob Don Johnson stepped out onto the stage.

"I'm lookin' for a heartbeat!" Don soulfully sang.

"Hey, Don! I've, like, totally got a heartbeat!"

"Yes, yes you do," replied Don, licking his lips.

And with that, we danced the night away, with yours truly in between a sexy man sandwich of Don Johnson and Mark Hamill. Three guests successfully entertained, only one murdered, I think that ended up a pretty good night for me!

Superboy: challenge 6

2008-06-26T23:42:00.023-05:00

Sigh thanks a lot Jon. While my relationship is screwed up I have to make people fall in love? Gah, that and I have to do something with purses, and a Yeoman. Not sure where to find a middle ages landowner on a space ship. Okay, whatever, if it's something dirty, that would be more Sylar's job.

I pass Nepharia torturing the passengers, And West whispering sweet nothings into the walls, hey at least it keeps him from asking me what Krypton was like, every five minutes.

So I go outside to find a bunch of passengers, have taken an escape pod to a space station with a swimming pool. I have to save the station from a freaking Space Kraken.

I fly there, and the thing shoots red sun rays at me. I respond with my mega punch.

That really only stunned it as it tried to eat me. Then the picture of Granny Goodness from the rat challenge fell out of my pocket, and the Kraken ran making a yipping sound.

I told the passengers “Ya don't want to be around Space Krakens; especially if you're hot girl what happens ain't pretty unless you're Japanese, and a perv."

So after getting all the passengers on board again the Muppet that steers the ship yells at me to stop jumping off and saving people.

"Do you know how hard it is to get this ship to turn around while being fused with it? It's not easy being green! Stop flying off the ship! Got it any questions?"

“Yeah what's your appeal?"

He flails his arms comically and yells. Enough fooling around. I go into the galley where Robin is eating something gross because he didn't find love. He glares at me. “I am not talking to you Conner; you locked me in the Batmobile's trunk."

I look over to the other side where the Spoiler his ex dead ex girlfriend is sitting by herself. "I thought you two where reigniting the spark." I ask.

“She shot someone Kon, she's no better than a villain." He sneers.

" Oh alright it was just you were so mopey when everyone you knew died, in a short amount of time, that I thought when one of 'em came back that you wouldn't let her go is all. Guess I had you pegged wrong. I mean Batman forgave her, and well she could die again and..."

That seemed to be enough.

But then I thought to my self is Robin a B list celebrity? Okay besides that billboard smear campaign I put up a while back I'm not sure. Oh yeah here's the bilboard.

While pondering rather or not he counts as a celebrity or not I see Hilary Duff.

“Actually I'm not Hilary Duff I'm a robot that looks like her made by a mad scientist."

“Koma?" I ask.

“Who? No my creator stole my designs from some guy named Austin Peters, but he became tired of me, and threw me out. I'm looking for another lover, but he has to evil."

“Boy have I got someone for you he's even figured out the secret to great villain dialogue!"

We walk down the hall a bit too where I introduce her to Cyborg Superman.

“Something Something Hate You! Something Something something kill!"

Okay I take that back about his dialogue being great. He grabs me by the throat and punches me into the ship’s walls with West yelling "No you're hurting her!"

“Something something something who cares?"

" Squee!" The robot Hilary Duff yells. “You’re so evil you're perfect!" She jumps up and hugs him.

“Something something something nice hardware blah blah yakkity yak."

They walk off together, hand in hand. I rub my neck. And sigh I decide to back go hangout outside the ship and just look at space awhile." You're a hard man to find. “I hear from one of the portholes.

It was Cassie. “Here to make me look gay again? Not that there’s anything wrong with that." I say into a Titans communicator seems this ship has a bit of atmosphere around it.

“Seinfeld was years ago Conner you don't need to reference it come into to the ship I want to talk.”

We argued for a bit, she accuses me of being afraid of commitment.

“Well yeah every time we get close, a teammate goes nuts and tries to suck us all into the Afterlife, or I die or something."

I could bore you with the rest of the conversation or I could just show the end result.

Looks like I'm a one woman man now, I can look but not touch, I can live with that. I still haven’t figured out the thing with the Yeoman and the purses though.

Mission Six: Love is Blind

2008-06-26T22:36:00.004-05:00

"I am Gavin MacLeod of the clan MacLeod," I said withdrawing my katana. "There can be only one!" With one quick swipe, followed by a few hacks and a dice, I decapitated the acne-ridden busboy.

Sylar giggled as he chased after the rolling head.

Professor Xavier rolled over to me. "That's just great, Bennet!" He sounded annoyed. "You realize I have the underwhelming honor of being the doctor on this sentient ship, and you've just caused me hours of paper work!"

I wasn't sure what he was complaining about. Paper work is the best kind of work. "Relax. We'll get someone to clean up this mess," I said glancing down at the blood puddles and leaking body.

"That was the busboy, you oaf. He is now the mess he would be cleaning had you not killed him."

"Sorry, I was just doing the challenge," I replied. "I'm Gavin MacLeod of the clan MacLeod."

He rolled off shaking his head.

I wasn't sure what the fuss was about, but I noticed there was a bar on this vessel. I made my way over to it and ordered up a drink. Suddenly, the bar began whispering to me. "You didn't read the challenge, did you?"

"What? Who said that?"

"Down here."

I looked behind the bar to find West slouched over his laptop. "West," I said.

"Shhh!! He'll hear you."

I looked around and didn't see anybody. Not that I was surprised. This boy has always been a bit of a conspiracy nut. "Well, as a matter of fact," I whispered back to him, "I merely skimmed it. I'm Gavin MacLeod of clan MacLeod. That's all I need to know."

"You're thinking of Connor MacLeod. You're the captain of this ship, not the Highlander."

The news was like a Sith kid finding out the truth about Darth Claus. "You mean...I'm not supposed to chop people's heads off as I make my way toward The Gathering?" I was very disappointed. This had seemed to be the most fun challenge yet.

"No," he said. "You have to entertain the celebs, and since you're captain," he talked as he typed away on his laptop, "I guess you gotta watch out for space icebergs or something....Hillary Clinton!"

Being a Nixon-era Republican, that was my cue to leave. I re-read the challenge and made my way to the ship's bridge, after applying my "No Fat Chicks" bumper sticker to the outer hull.

As a born leader, I found the piloting of this ship to be one of the easiest tasks I've done on this competition. Plus, since it's alive, it pretty much drives itself. I still barked out orders to project an image of authority.

Just as I was getting into the groove of commanding the Leviathan, an old man ventured into the bridge and interrupted my superb captaining. "Oh, excuse me, ma'am," he said as he bumped into me. "I'm just on my way to the restroom." He felt around as he made his way over to a Diagnostic Repair Drone and began unzipping his pants.

My hand moved to my katana, but the Professor's words came back to me. I'm the doctor, blah, blah, blah. I didn't want to give him any more patients to justify his six-figure salary. So, I grabbed the old man by the shoulder and said, "Careful there, King Tut. That's a DRD. There's an astromech droid right around the corner." I gave him a push in the right direction, "I think you'll find he's better suited for such warranty-voiding activities."

A few moments later, the old man returned. "Thank you, young man." He extended a hand, which I declined to shake. He apparently didn't notice that, so I grabbed a nearby coffee mug and let him shake that instead. "The name's Magoo, Quincy Magoo. I came on this ship in search of love, but all I've found is really bad diarrhea. Who prepares the food on this ship, a rodent?"

I felt bad for the old man. "Sorry, gramps. I got a ship to run. Beat it." I let him find his own way out. It took a couple hours, but a few falls and a couple of bruises later, he was out of my hair.

"It's just easy sailing now," I commented as I laid back in my captain's chair. I hit the intercom button. "Bring me a cosmopolitan!" I heard snickers, followed by yes sir.

As my cosmo arrived, the ship began to shake. My drink was dropped, but as I reached for my katana to fire the waiter with, I was knocked down by the turbulence.

Sirens sounded and people were screaming. I pulled myself up and spoke into the intercom, "Don't worry paying customers, we have an onboard physician available to take care of your injuries. As for the staff, refer to your HMO."

The Professor replied via the intercom, "Bennet, you do realize I'm a teacher. My doctorate is in philosophy. I'm hardly qualified to-" He cut out. There was a large zapping noise and the ship surged with electricity.

"Hmm..." I thought aloud. "That's no space iceberg."

I ran to the nearest porthole and glanced out. It was worse than I feared.

"Hey! I said no fat chicks!" I yelled out at the bolt-casting abomination.

"I'm big boned," the creature replied and continued blasting away at my lovely love boat.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked in desperation, hoping to buy some time for some retaliatory plotting.

"Because a little mermaid stole the man I wanted to have love me!" She accentuated her answer with a broadside tentacle slap.

"Wait...all you want is love? This happens to be a love boat!"

"I know! That's why I'm destroying it. No man could ever love an overweight half-octopus woman. And if I can't have love, nobody will! Bwa ha ha ha ha ha ha ha HA!"

"Ha!" a voice on the intercom laughed. "Great job as captain." It was the Professor. "You steered us right into the fury of a woman scorned."

"Shut up, you old fool!" I snapped back. Old fool... Of course! I called out to the cellulite monster, "I can find you love!"

She stopped pounding the ship with her tentacles for a moment and replied, "You can?"

"Of course, it's the LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE Boat."

"Exciting and new?"

"Always. Just come on inside," I said.

She nodded and began to shrink down to a socially-respectable, though still overweight, size. She pushed her tentacles through the entrance.

"Wait right here," I said. "I'll be right back with the love of your life."

I found Mr. Magoo talking to an ice sculpture. "Excuse me, Quincy. Can I have a word with you?"

"Certainly, boy. This conversation was beginning to cool anyway."

I grabbed the myopic man by his arm and led him back to the bridge. "You know how you were talking about wanting to find love, well I found you someone. She's a real looker too, take my word for it."

I opened the bridge door and said, "Ursula the Sea Witch, meet Mr. Quincy Magoo."

"He's kind of old," she said disappointed.

"What? Who said that?" Magoo responded with his fists up in the air.

"She said she loves your fabulous hairdo," I said quickly.

Magoo asked, "What hairdo?"

I ignored him and added, "Mr. Quincy Magoo here is very wealthy and finds you irresistible. Isn't that right, Quincy?"

He squinted in her general direction, and finally said, "Hubba hubba," which is old-speak for "Nice bod."

She scooped him toward her with a tentacle. I thought he was going to have a heart attack, but he just smiled and said, "I like your pet octopus. Does it have a name?"

"Just call it Octopussy," she replied and the couple left the bridge and headed for Magoo's bedroom.

Nepharia called me on the intercom, "Hey, I'm glad you got the racket to calm down and all, but you do realize we're still running a cruise here and this ship seems to be out of commission. Don't think I'm going to let your lack of performance cast me in a bad light!"

"Relax, get the Professor to fix the ship."

"I'm not a mechanic!" He shot back over the intercom.

"Well, good. Because this ship isn't mechanical."

Challenge #6: The Love Boat?

2008-06-26T17:10:00.013-05:00

Cruise director.

I decided Jon had officially lost his mind this time. And since I couldn't make him pay, I decided to make the guests pay instead.

I had an entire ship of victims...er...guests handed over to me for whom to plan activities. Oh, and they must also fall in love. This should be a great deal of fun.

But first, to get out off this horrible uniform I was forced to put on for the opening segment and into something a little more comfortable:

"Julie," called a voice as I walked from my cabin. "Julie!....JULIE!" A hand grabbed me to get my attention.

"Julie, didn't you hear me calling you?" It was Ciera. Apparently since she didn't have to write this week's challenge she came on board thinking she was going to have a good time. Was she in for a surprise.

"What's with the Julie business?" I asked.

"Well," she began, "Since you are in the credits listed as Julie, we're required to call you 'Julie' ."

"That's just great," I said, shaking my head. "Just what I wanted."

"I like the name Julie," she said, trying to make me feel better.

"Right," I said. "What is it that you needed, anyway?" I asked.

"Oh, yes," she answered. "The hot water in our room does not appear to be working. Would it be possible to have someone come look at it?"

"Did you bring your dearest love, Kirk, on board with you?" I asked.

"Of course," she answered, swooning at the very mention of his name.

"Then, no, it would not be possible," I responded, to Ciera's surprise. "You're lucky I don't eject you into space." At this Ciera began backing away from me.

"I...I'm sorry to have bothered you," she stammered, then quickly retreated back to her room.

I heaved a sigh. One romantic couple down, several hundred more to go.

But where to begin now? Perhaps the kitchen.

"Ok, guys," I explain as I marched into the head chef's office with my official-looking clip board. "We must conserve some of our food stores because we weren't given enough to last the entire cruise."

"What?" he said.

"You heard me," I shot back. "So tonight, we can't use any salt, butter, or meat of any kind."

"But I was planning on king crab legs," the chef whined.

"Well, I'm sorry," I answered. "We just can't afford it -- not tonight."

"Wow," he said. Then looking at me assuredly, he continued. "We'll come up with something, Julie."

I nearly hurled when he called me that, but kept my composure and smiled as pleasantly as I could. "Good man," I answered as I fought back the bile in my throat.

Next, I went to the different pool areas and put in so much chlorine that anyone who got near them suffered respiratory problem. We had several people rendered unconscious by the fumes and had to go to sickbay. This program director job was actually turning out to be a better assignment than I thought it would.

I finally went to the ship's stores and removed all the alcohol, putting it in a hidden area. The small amount that was still in the service areas was quickly depleted and the wait staff and bartenders began scrambling to find some more.

"Julie, Julie!" it was Issac, the bartender. "We're running out of alcohol and the guests on the promenade deck are about to riot."

I smiled coyly. "That's ok, Issac. I'll take care of it," and I patted him on the arm reassuringly. He smiled, apparently encouraged by this.

I went to the promenade deck and saw a throng of people yelling at some of the staff that was there.

"Ladies and gentlemen," I yelled, amplifying my voice using the Force. They quieted down some and looked in my direction.

"Hey!" yelled one man, "We came here to have fun. We can't have fun without tons of alcoholic beverages."

"You are not here to drink alcoholic beverages," I answered, waving my hand before them and bending their will to mine. "You are here to fall in love."

Their eyes all glazed over and then looked around at one another. Each grabbed the nearest person of their sexual preference and retreated to the different parts of the ship. Except for this one woman sitting off to the side as she sipped on some water.

"Why are you still here?" I asked.

"As you can see," she gestured to the rest of the deck, "I am alone."

I looked around; she was right. And since she was the only B-List celebrity I'd run into so far, I knew as part of the challenge, I had to help her fall in love.

"Hmmm, what cabin are you in?" I asked.

"I'm on deck 15, cabin 349," she answered; I made a note of that.

"Well," I said, "you can't stay on board if you can't find a partner." She seemed somewhat startled by this information and she stood up.

"I guess I better get started looking for someone then," she answered.

"Yes, you had," I responded. "And you had better do it by dinner time, or it's out into space for you."

"Uh, yes ma'am," and she ran off.

I yelled after her, "If you don't show up for the meal, I'll be sending someone to search for you."

Later that evening, as I was monitoring who came into the port side restaurant to make sure they were nothing but couples, a familiar face approached with a man in tow.

"Thank you for the encouragement," she said with a smile. "Without it, we would have never have found one another." She turned to her new love and took his hand. "Fox is never going to believe this."

After getting the pair seated, I decided to go to the starboard side restaurant to see how things were going. I was greeted by a very unhappy set of guests.

I shouted several times before getting their attention.

"Everyone," I shouted to all the disgruntled eaters, putting up my hands for their silence. "On the port side restaurant, where everyone there has all found their love on board this ship, they will be receiving prime rib for dinner." More shouts of protest arose from the crowd. "If you would like your meals to return to something more to your liking, I suggest you start looking for your loves as well -- otherwise tomorrow we will also be replacing your water with vinegar."

I love this job. Thanks Jon.

Ch. 6: West vs. Romance

2008-06-25T18:03:00.007-05:00

I don’t know about anyone else, but I’ve already fallen in love. This ship, oh, this ship is everything that I have ever wanted—a beautiful alien being that I could stay inside of for hours. I caressed the walls as I walked up and down the hallways, singing softly to my new girlfriend. Yes, I can call the Leviathan my girlfriend because she’s a ship and ships are ‘she’s.

“Come and knock on our door/We’ve been waiting for you…”

“That’s the Three’s Company theme, you idiot,” came a disdainful voice behind me.

I spun around and saw him, my nemesis, the bane of my existence, the boy I thought I killed: Wesley Crusher, all grown up and standing in front of me. I pulled out my gun. “This time you’re going down for reals, Wesley!” I threatened.

He gave me a funny look and I realized that I wasn’t even armed, I was just pointing at him with my thumb up. I shrugged and kept pointing.

“Wesley Crusher is a fictional character, fanboy. I’m Wil Wheaton.”

“Oh, sure.” I rolled my eyes. “Real creative there, Wesley. Next time you pick an alias try to think of a name that doesn’t start with W.”

“I’m only going to say this one more time, fanboy: Wesley. Is. A Character. A Character. A Character. Get it?”

“Aaaurgh!” I screamed. “You’ve been assimilated by the Borg and your cybernetic voice modulator is malfunctioning! Die, robot man!” I threw a deck chair at him and hid in the bar.

I pulled out my laptop to take advantage of the free wi-fi and searched the internet until I found his weakness, the one thing that could destroy Wesley/Wil once and for all: Wesley Crusher is hysterically afraid of powerful women.

“Hillary Clinton!” I exclaimed as I jumped up and my laptop clattered to the floor.

“Yes?” A middle-aged blonde woman turned around on her bar stool, a shot of Crown Royal lifted halfway to her lips. I took a seat next to her; she was drawing up plans for an invasion of Venezuela.

“I need you to help me destroy Wesley Crusher once and for all.”

She raised her eyebrow. “Kid, you’ve been listening to too much Rush Limbaugh.”

“The guy who does podcasts about Transformers?”

She turned away and resumed nursing her bottle of whiskey, shaking her head. I remembered that I had a challenge to complete, and figured that I should reframe my pitch to the Senator.

“Well, Ms. Clinton, since you’re on the Love Boat Leviathan all by yourself, perhaps you would be interested in a relationship with Mr. Crusher. What better way could there be to take him captive and make his life miserable? We wouldn’t have to worry about him again! It would be that robot’s downfall! Mwahahahahahaha!”

“Kid, sit down!” Hillary shouted, and then continued. “Okay, I’m in, but only because I need the press exposure. Conquering him should be even more satisfying than taking Caracas!”

I pulled out my map of the ship and devised a plan.

Later that night, at the dance held in the Mike’s Hard Onionade ® Discotheque, I cornered Wesley again. “You can’t escape me Wesley!” I cried over the din of the music. He saw that I was about to crush his skull with a speaker and ran to the far end of the room.

“There’s no way you can get away with this, fanboy. The blogosphere will disembowel you for this crime.”

“I’d like to see them try,” I sneered, “nothing can stop me. Now, Hillary!”

In the next room, Hillary flipped a switch, and the wall Wesley had leaned against spun around. Now Wesley was trapped in the wedding chapel with his arch-nemesis.

I strode into the chapel, where a panicked Wesley stared slack-jawed at his bride-to-be. “With the power invested in me by Last Gladiator Standing III, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Laters!”

As the wedding bells rung, my heart swelled with joy as I remembered what all great love is based on: callous disregard for one another and struggles for control. C’est amour, no?

Challenge #6

2008-06-22T20:33:00.001-05:00

Love, exciting and new
Come Aboard. We're expecting you.

Love, life's sweetest reward.
Let it flow, it floats back to you.

Love Boat soon will be making another run
The Love Boat promises something for everyone

Set a course for adventure,
Your mind on a new romance.

Love won't hurt anymore
It's an open smile on a friendly shore.
Yes LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE! It's LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE! (hey-ah!)

Love Boat soon will be making another run
The Love Boat promises something for everyone
Set a course for adventure,
Your mind on a new romance.

Love won't hurt anymore

It's an open smile on a friendly shore.

It's LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE! It's LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE! It's
LOOOOOOOOOOOVE!
It's the Love Boat-ah! It's the Love Boat-ah!

As you can see, Gladiators, the producers of this show have obtained a Leviathan and have converted it into a luxury liner. Leviathans, as I’m sure you know, are living ships -- immense space faring creatures that bond with a Pilot and can travel great distances via starbursting. Though typically a creature of peaceful solitude, Leviathans often take on passengers or are used in transporting materiel over vast distances in space.

You have all been given functions on this ship; your job is to entertain the B-List of celebrities and has-beens who are going on the cruise. Your must also to make sure these special guest stars find their true love. Don’t worry, it’ll be easy because this is the Love Boat Leviathan, people fall in love on these cruises all the time. Plus there’s a laugh track, so you’ve got that going for you. Which is nice.

Last Gladiator Standing III was brought to you in part by Mike’s Hard Onionade.

Fresh, crisp, refreshing.

When you want a hard onionade, think Mike’s.

And for a limited time, when you buy three 12 packs of Mike’s Hard Onionade, get your own copy of V for Vidalia. For a limited time only.

Challenge 5, the vote

2008-06-22T19:50:00.002-05:00

Congratulations, Gladiators, working with your photographers have given you some good exposure. Unfortunately, as this has developed, it looks like one of you will be underexposed.

And this is the part that causes me to shutter.

Whose photo shoot turned out to be all flash?

Who just wasn’t photogenic enough this time around?

Ciera, you are not the Last Gladiator Standing, goodbye.

Stay tuned for the next challenge.

Last Gladiator Standing III was brought to you in part by Doc Sampson’s Office of Psychiatry for Heroes.

Do you feel green and angry all the time?
Does it seem like everyone is out to get you?
Do you suffer from Multiple Personality Disorder?
Were you irradiated by a Gamma bomb and now turn into a giant Hulk when under extreme duress?
Do you not want to get angry because people don't like you when you're angry?

Then Doc Sampson is the psychiatrist for you.

The Big, Green, Watery, Unblinking Eyes of Judgment

2008-06-21T16:34:00.003-05:00

GAH! ...Sorry, I startled myself with that glare. My apologies. It's just that sometimes I'm so dang manly and intimidating, even I can't handle it. In fact, I may have made myself pee a little.

*dons schoolmarmish reading glasses, shuffles through pile of notes*

Time for individual evaluations!

Erifia: You had a real "Annie Hall" thing goin' on with the Stormtrooper outfit, so, y'know, "props for that" as the kids used to say. The lighting in your photos was mostly excellent. Pretty atmospheric. And you have quite a way with ribbons and other accessories. I salute your body tattoos: I've found that a well-placed tattoo can give you a handy "element of surprise" when you're sleeping with a new partner. Get 'em "off their game" and then it's "anything goes", mainly because they're too baffled to resist. So kudos.

Nepharia: I don't suppose I could nab a copy of those original photos? The hairy, beard-y ones? 'Cause they made you look HOT! Butcher than me, even! WOOF, Nepharia! WOOF! Also, I'd love to get your replacement photographer's jacket. Although I'd have to let it out. Or maybe I could just tie it around one of my furry biceps. Your David Beckham cameo swayed me not a whit, because he waxes, and also he has the sickly stank of Tom Cruise all over him. In the plus column, you were very sexy in a demure, "good girl" kind of way, and you apparently have violet eyes to die for.

Kon: Mud wrasslin'! Yay! Although I'm pretty sure you're under 18, so I feel a little creepy even mentioning it. Forget I said anything. All-in-all, you had some solid "action" shots, and I'm giving you a bonus point for uncovering the Secret of Smoke Island. (Haw!)

Ciera: What glamorous gowns! Also, the style of your post reminded me of the spoken-word portion of an R&B song. Or maybe the back of a romance novel.

Sylar: You're one saucy bitch! I like that. Your pictures weren't that hot, but it's no wonder with that lame-ass photographer of yours. Still, I applaud your moxie.

Mr. Bennet: You know what? You're pretty darned handsome with those glasses of yours! Without the glasses? Not so much. I mean, you're a good-looking guy, but it's a sort of common-place, generic "good-looking" until you add the glasses. Accessories are very important. Never forget that. In my case, without my beard? I look like that one Baldwin brother -- the really, really pudgy one, you know the one I mean. That's why I need the face fur. What I'm saying is, keep the glasses. Forget what that brat daughter of yours tells you.

Professor Xavier: Wait a minute...! You're faking paralysis? That's just plain wrong. But on the other hand, it takes balls of freaking steel. So I sort of respect you for having the crust to actually do it. Sadly, the range of your facial expressions seems to be rather limited, so I didn't enjoy your photos very much.

West: "My gusto would endear the audience to me." Heh. Who said that? Was it me? Because it seems like something I'd say. But nope, it was you, West, and I gotta say... your can-do attitude is winning my heart! (As a friend! As a friend!) But then I see that you own a Real Doll, and that takes some of the shine off for me. Dude. You showed a kick-ass macho confidence in the face of a bunch of sassy model wannabes. That's gonna net you some genuine babes in short order! Just be a little patient. Not to mention, you showed a real natural, unabashed, tousled goofiness in your photo shoot. Which was totally excellent. Girls love that (I'm given to understand). (Personally, I'm gayer than an "Ultimate Fighting" match, so I'm not an expert on the whole hetero scene.)

*removes reading glasses, strokes beard sagely*

After much consideration, I'm going to award this round's win to...

...Nepharia! And I swear I wasn't even mind-controlled into doing it. For realsies, you guys.

Congratulations, Nepharia!

Everybody else gets a copy of "Blockade Boy: The Home Game", which is basically a Pop Tart-sized hunk of steel with one of those bearded early-70's G.I. Joe heads sticking out of one end. (Allow six-to-never weeks for delivery.)

Ch. 5: West vs. Top Model

2008-06-20T22:24:00.016-05:00

I approached Jay and Miss J apprehensively, worrying that they were mad that I invited the Top Model contestants to the Sylar’s Bachelor party and not them. They seemed like harsh critics, and I couldn’t tell whether they were aliens or robots, but they were okay.

“Being a Gladiator takes the same qualities as being a Top Model—discipline and commitment,” Jay said.
“And girl, you better wax those eyebrows and improve your posture while you’re at it,” Miss J added.

“Don’t worry. I, the alien hero West, am up for any challenge!” My gusto would endear the audience to me. Oh yes, it would!

“Okay, let’s get this party started,” said Jay as he and Miss J led me to the baseball field on Fire Island D. We entered the scoring booth, and Miss J pressed a button to turn on the lights to the scoreboard. Suddenly, the air shimmered around us and we ended up somewhere new.

Miss J gestured at the landscape around us and explained what had happened. “The planet Hacknor contains a dimensional gate between Fire Island D and Fire Island, Long Island, New York.” Miss J sighed. “Of course, the Gladiators that threw the best parties here are long dead now. The galaxy is cruel like that.”

“History lessons won’t get this challenge won!” Jay warned and pointed toward the horizon. “We’ll be doing the photo shoot in my lighthouse studio.”

They primped and polished me, and showed me the wardrobe they selected for the shoot. To go easy on me, they told me to not worry about selling the clothes, but on selling myself.

“My godlike, alien self,” I added.

“Don’t be a diva, kid.” Miss J scolded.

“Give me smoldering; give me seductive!” Jay instructed.

(We couldn’t get Claire for the photo shoot, so we used the Real Doll that I had made up to look like her. Yes, I have one.)

I tried my best to follow directions.

“Now let me see avant-garde!”

“You’re an anorexic heroin addict about to die of complications of hepatitis!”

“Isn’t that a bit specific?” Miss J whispered.

“Rugged and manly, West. Rugged and manly!”

“What part of ‘rugged and manly’ don’t you understand?”

I was done with the shoot when I heard the camera click one more time.

“You stop when I say you stop, West. Laziness won’t get you hired in this industry!”

“Don’t we have to head back to Hacknor by now?” I asked.

“Not yet,” Miss J said. “We have a mission for you.”

“It’s Tyra,” Jay said. “She needs to be stopped. The Tyra Mail, the unnecessary photos of her on the show, her…smarmy façade! Gah!”

“She’s a robot,” Miss J told me. That’s all the information I needed.

“What must I do?”

Jay wrote a name and address on the back of an old Polaroid. “See this person; he will help you out. Miss J and I have to go back to Hacknor for the time being to finish processing everyone’s photos, but don’t worry. Just return here and we’ll take you back to the show.”

“Good luck,” Miss J called out as they vanished.

I flew to Los Angeles, where I met the man who would help me take down Tyra Banks: James St. James. He was on Top Model one time, and he used to be famous or something. Seriously, like Seth Green played him in a movie once.

This man looks nothing like Seth Green.

“So, uh, Jay and Miss J sent me. They said you can help me on their mission.”

“Poor kid, your style has no flair to it. You’re so bland. You’re perfect. You’ve got just what it takes to bring her down.”

“What’s going to happen? Is she going to turn into a giant robot like Mecha Streisand on South Park? Are we going to have to face-off on the catwalk like on Zoolander? What?”

“Jesus Christ kid! Do you do anything besides watch TV? No. I’m drawing my inspiration from something more classical. Do you know anything about Greek mythology? I’m going to assume that you don’t and just say this: Narcissus died of thirst staring at his reflection in the pond. I’ve created a room where the walls, floor, and ceiling are mirrors. We’re going to trap her in there long enough to take over her show.”

“Why do you need me? Why don’t you guys do this yourself?”

“Kid, we’ve got style. We’re worth looking at. The plan would backfire if we did all that. But you, like I said, are perfectly uninteresting.”

I approached the Top Model house where Tyra was lecturing the contestants on bulimia, mugging for the camera.

“Hey West,” the models squealed, “too bad you didn’t win Sylar’s Bachelor!”

“It’s okay girls, you can catch plenty of me on Last Gladiator Standing!” I turned to Tyra. “Ms. Banks, I have a special delivery of couture from your sponsors outside.”

I showed her the truck where James St. James’s mirror room was held, and as I opened it and she caught her reflection her pupils dilated and her body went slack, just like when my mom is hopped up on Valium. Different drugs, I guess.

She stayed in that truck, which I drove from the house of cheering models back to Fire Island, and as I approached the lighthouse I got caught in a beam of its light, which returned me to Fire Island D on Hacknor.

“Dance party!” Jay exclaimed, and we celebrated.

Xavier strikes a pose

2008-06-20T21:00:00.014-05:00

I drummed my fingers inpatiently on the arm of my wheelchair. Pose for pictures, Jon says. I haven't sat for a picture since the dust jacket of my last book. I detest having my picture taken. If you had lost all your hair at an early age, you would understand how I feel.

There was a tentative knock on my door and then it slowly creaked open. A woman in a dark pant suit entered.

"You?" I blurted, startled by the person standing there.

"Yes, well . . my plans for the rest of this year have changed. The next four years, actually. I have some time on my hands now so I'm trying different things."

I was so surprised by the identity of my camera man, er, person . . that I forgot to complain about having to have my picture taken.

"So, um, what did you have in mind for the shoot?" I asked.

An evil glint seemed to appear in the corner of Hillary's eye. Must have been my imagination, I suppose.

"Oh, I brought a wardrobe for you. Why don't you go behind the screen there and put the first one on."

"You mean . . we aren't going to a location? The Fire Pits of Valhalla or the Lave Lake of Laciviousness or the Mountain of Unnamable Suffering or something like that?"

"No, no. I'll shoot you right here." There was that glint again.

I looked at the first outfit. It seemed like a rather tasteful tuxedo. "I, uh, might need a bit of help putting this on. You see my legs don't work."

"Oh really? Then how do you explain Captain Koma getting your body to walk around when your brain was recently removed?"

". . you know about that?"

She nodded, with that same damn glint in her eye.

With a sigh I stood up out of my chair and carried the tuxedo behind the screen. When I came out, she had a digital camera in her hand.

"Very good," she said. "Now stand over there. Give me a smoldering, sexy look. Like James Bond. That's it."

"Not bad," she said aprrovingly. Now let's try the Dickens costume."

Dickens? Oh well.

"Creepy. Put on the sea captain's costume."

"You look very uncomfortable," Hillary said. "I don't think that's you at all. Let's see . . you're a teacher, right? Try that one."

I could tell Hillary was surpressing a chuckle. "Do you have enough yet?" I asked.

"Not at all. Put that one on next."

"Ohh, extra spooky. How about we try some more emotion this time. Show me . . happy."

"Okay, forget happy. Let's try . . meditative."

"No . . show me . . freaky."

"These emotions aren't working at all. You have no acting talent whatsoever. Let's go back to the costumes. Put that one on."

"That one?" I asked doubtfully. "Are you sure this is necessary?"

"Do it!' she screeched. I grabbed the outfit.

"Yes, that's perfect!" Hillary said as she tossed the camera aside. "You really aren't anything more than another one of those pathetic, spandex clad Earth heroes. You all really think you can defend your pitifully little plaent with your pathetic powers. It's a laugh! You Earthlings are weak and puny and will fall before our might. Starting with you, Xavier!"

"What in heavens name are you talking about??" I asked, totally confused.

"This has all been a carefully laid trap, you fool!" Hillary bellowed as she changed shape before my eyes.

"The Skrull empire is invading your planet as we speak! It is my assignment to eliminate you. I took care of the real photographer assigned to this task. Richard Simmons didn't put up much resistance at all. I didn't even have to resort to violence. I just tossed a box of Twinkies in the shuttle craft's air lock and the fat fool ran in. Now he's eating space dust! Bwahahaahaa!"

I tried to use my psionic powers to shut down the Skrull's mind but it wasn't working for some reason.

"The flash on this fake camera was designed by Skrull scientists using superio Skrull technology to temporarily paralyze your psionic powers."

"Temporarily?" I asked. "For how long exactly?"

"Long enough for me to kill you!"

With that the Skrull pulled out some kind of energy weapon. I immediately dropped to the floor, grabbed the end of the rug and pulled it out from under him. Or her. I can never tell with Skrulls.

The alien crashed to the floor. With my lightening fast reflexes I was on him and grabbed his energy weapon. I was about to pull the trigger when I had a thought.

"Alright, Skrull," I said. "Before I shoot you, take some real pictures of me. I have a contest to win!"

Mission Five: Working the Sexy

2008-06-20T10:22:00.001-05:00

A photo shoot. Point and click. It's as easy as shooting a would-be nay-sayer. So, I didn't expect much trouble. I could get this thing done in a few minutes and be back in time to make some conference calls with some of my major clients. Paper, as incredible as it is, doesn't sell itself. (Note to self: Check into self-selling paper.)

I met the photographer.

"Alright, Chubby McGee, let's get this over with." I made my typical stand-and-look-at-the-camera pose and awaited the flash.

Suddenly, water squirted out of his camera. It got all over my face. Drops ran from my glasses. The photographer laughed as he jumped onto a unicycle. He peddled away shouting, "Xavier sends his regards!"

My photo shoot was ruined! My conference call would have to wait. I had some hairless crippled ass to kick.

Before I could get to plotting my revenge, I needed to finish the challenge. So, I called up Claire. She arrived and we discussed strategy.

"The glasses are my thing, Claire. They're a trademark."

"You have to lose 'em," she argued. "Trust me, Dad. You'll look way totally sexy. That Sylar guy won't have nothing on you!"

She was the expert, so with reluctance I removed my glasses.

We found ourselves a new photographer. He was some nobody named Greg Beeman. (Hmm...Beeman? I wonder if he's any relation to Henchy.) He aimed his camera and began clicking away. "Let's see more umph," he'd say every few seconds.

I umphed my hardest and by the end of the day, we had our shots.

Elegant.

Charming.

Confident.

Cool.

"Dad!" Claire screamed. "No glasses!"

"Sorry...I just had to put 'em on. The Slusho was being suspicious. Look at the stain it left on this excellent piece of paper."

We had enough shots. It was time to plan our disruption of Professor Ixnay on the Airhay's photo shoot.

After much deliberation, we decided to infiltrate his photo crew and readjust the exposure settings on their cameras. "With his shiny bald head, the glare will completely drown out the photos! He'll look like a complete idiot...or Jesus. Either way, he won't be winning this challenge."

Back in my room I laughed out loud at the ruined pictures of the handicapable fool.

Sylar's Lucasfilm Photoshoot

2008-06-20T06:23:00.000-05:00

A photoshoot! OMG, what an opportunity for me to show off my sexiness! I put on my best dress and went out to meet Jay.

"Nice boobies," I complimented him.

He looked me up and down. "You too."

"Thanks. I generated the cleavage myself (through special powers, hehe). So, where are we going?"

"We? No, no, no. I am much too busy to photograph you myself. Yes, much too busy. But do not worry, my sexy vixen, for I have assigned my best photographer to you for the day."

I clapped my hands, excited that I had such an honor. Jay called for my photographer, and out stepped...this big-eared guy!

"Hello!" he said, shaking my hands, "I am George Lucas, the visionary," he said modestly.

After meeting him and his assistant (more on him later), we set off to the scene of our photoshoot. I asked him where we would be going. Would it be Fire Archipeligo R? Or Artic River X?

"No," he responded, "there is an exotic location not far from here. Some debris that the Republic had blasted out into space that landed on this planet. Very interesting scenery indeed."

"The Republic?"

"Oh, did I say Republic? I meant Republicans."

It was then that we arrived at the site of the Republican space-trash: a big green wall with an old man in front of it.

"Um, is this a porn? Am I supposed to like, have my way with grandpa?" I asked. "If so, I don't do wrinkly peeps."

"What? No. What's he doing here? He must have lost his bearings. Shoo, old man, shoo!" The old man slowly shuffled away, mumbling something about mothballs.

I looked up and down at the wall. It didn't look so exciting. I wanted to wear a lava-fur coat at Artic Center Q, or a frost-covered bikini at Fire Peninsula H! "What gives?" I asked the floppy-eared man, with my hand on my hip. "Where's my exotic location?!"

"This is it! Don't you see? With this green screen, I can computer generate you into any location! All with the click of a mouse! Why go to real locations when you can create fake ones that look super cool!" he said, laughing maniacally.

I pouted, but had to complete my challenge! So, I got on my sexiest outfits out and went to work. Dumbo started snapping pictures.

"Yes! You're in front of a futuristic city! You're the queen of the planet! You didn't get this position by earning it. You got it from being sexy!" I posed in a sexy, queenish manner.

"Great!" the man said, after he had finished. Now, let's upload these to my computer, a click here and there, and voila! Instant exotic location."

"Um, why am I like, floating in the middle of a city?"

"Because you can be! You see, without CGI, such scenery wouldn't be possible, but now, with the magic of computers, it is!"

I was scared. Floppy Ears had gone mad. I couldn't murder him though, because, judging from his insane ideas, his brain was like, totally rotten, and would give me heartburn. Besides, I guess I had a challenge to complete. So, I continued on.

"Now, you're rugged, you're a jungle man from the '50s! You're swinging from vines with monkeys! You're trying to chase a convoy of Communists who are fighting with a man you just found out to be your father! Isn't that ridiculous? But it can all be accomplished here, using a green screen!"

Dumbo set to work at his computer again, and soon, showed me my next photo.

"Why is this like, all blurry? It looks like it came from a screenshot from a streaming low quality movie on the internet!" I exclaimed.

"No, no, silly, you're in motion! That's motion blur!"

"But I was just standing there with a rope in my hand."

"Yes, but with the magic of CGI, I could add blur to make it look like you were moving!"

I couldn't take much more of this, but the crazy photographer worked on.

"Ok, ok, now, I'll need my assistant. Jar Jar! Get out onto the set with this sexy (wo)man!"

"What? Misa me? Yous want misa Jar Jar in the picture with the girly girl?" the freakish thing asked. It walked forward and tripped over Dumbo's camera, film spilling all over the place. "Misa so sorry," it said, with a grin on its stupid face.

It stood next to me in front of the wall, and we got into costume. Dumbo handed us some things he called light sabers, but they really looked more like those thingies that people on airplane runways use to direct planes.

"Now, this is the climatic battle scene! It is full of excitement, action, and drama! Fight!"

And fight we did! The lil creature cowered as I swung my plastic toy at him! He blocked, and our toys clashed! Dumbo snapped the picture that he would later show me.

"Yay! Misa blocked fat ugly tranny!" the creature said to itself, dropping its plastic toy and dancing around. Now, this was the last straw. Now calling me a tranny, sure, that's pretty much completely darn correct. And fat, well, ok, I don't like that, but I do eat a lot of brains, that'll make your belt size go up once in a while. But ugly? That is something that this sexy serial killer never is.

Using my telekinetic super mind trick, I threw Jar Jar into the air over my head. With my power of nuclear energy flowing through me, I channeled it to my plastic toy, making it totally like, a nuclear toy. I slashed Jar Jar as he flew over me, and he fell into the lava. I turned to walk away, figuring the lava would finish him off.

"NOOooOOooOOcoOO!" it shrieked. "Misa will come back as Darth Binks to get my revenge!"

"Hey, you're right! We can't have that!" I force threw my nuclear toy through its skull. That was like, totally awesome!

I turned to look at Dumbo. He was sobbing. "My creation!" he wailed.

"Your creation?"

"Yes! Don't you see? Only through the magic of CGI could I create such a charming, humorous, cute creature!"

"Um, I think you may be the one who has lost his bearings," I loled.

"Yes, I have!" And with that, George Lucas starting flapping his arms like a chicken while cackling maniacally. He galloped like a pony off into the distance.

Wait a minute, I thought, did I just write a post where I was the straight man?

I shrugged to myself. Challenge completed. I guess.

Challenge 5 - Ciera in studio and on Fire Island

2008-06-20T03:00:00.002-05:00

Let’s take it kind of slow shall we...I’m kind of camera shy...and this is a room full of strangers...
Give me a chance to warm up to you...a chance to relax...to unwind...

And then I shall beckon to you...invite you to come closer...with but a look...

And I shall show you the depth of the woman within...whose spirit soars to heights unknown...

The Elegant Princess...refined and sophisticated...every inch regal...

The Elusive Angel...pure and innocent...a lingering memory...

The Fiery Warrior...brave and fearless...defender of the weak...

The Fierce Avenger...arbiter of justice...a righter of wrongs...

The Ethereal Goddess...holy and radiant...glorious to behold...

The Untame Lioness...intense and passionate...wild at heart...

On second thought, I’ll save that last for Kirk…

Challenge 5 Kon

2008-06-17T21:00:00.003-05:00

"I still think HS was drugged by Hudson because he found all those fake pictures of Hudson with all of those super heroines." I state.

"Someone's been hanging around the Question too long." Kara laughs over the phone.

"Ahem!" I hear from behind me. “I’m your photographer for the challenge, Drusilla"

I turn around hellloooo!

"I can tell by the look on your face MR.EL, that you think I'm going to be another one of your conquests let me assure you that is not going to happen. Let's keep this professional."

I like hard to get, but I'd better keep it professional since I want to complete this challenge. First stop one of the many fire islands around here. And some moron put an "Arabian Nights" type castle right by a volcano, talk about bad zoning. So I had to save that place. Got some nice action shots outta the deal.

The locals were really happy.

Dru rolled her eyes as she took this shot. The next shot on Fire Island B was a swimming shot. In the burning pound.

I noticed Dru was looking down, and then hiding her eyes. That's when I realize the very hot water burned off my trunks!
Dammit, I didn’t want this to be a playgirl type thing.

Next was Smoke Island 1.

I'm in there somewhere. Also that smoke made me feel funny. I solved that mystery after exploring the island a bit.

It's infested with hippies. After breathing that smoke I wanna eat nachos, and watch Alice in Wonderland. So after spending an hour laughing at a bug. We go to the next stop Mud Island Sigma.

This place is gross. I try to make the best of it, until I hear someone yell. “Hey you! I heard about you seducing my girlfriend in your damn hot tub! You're in for a world of hurt!"

Jason Todd? Everyone’s least favorite Robin. He hits me with a crow bar. I let him thinking it's just a normal crowbar, but it's made of some kind of super tough metal. It bruises my chin and, I fall into the mud.

I heat vision it out of his hand and he comes up with green K knuckles. He jumps into the mud and we fight it out there. While Dru snaps away at pictures.

I beat him but after he smacks me around a bit. Stupid Kryptonite. A few days later I get a letter from Drusilla. There’s a video in it oh I hope it's X rated.

"Hello Conner I can't believe you couldn't see through my disguise." She takes off her glasses, and puts down her hair, and it's Cassie!
My girlfriend. Blast! Glasses and putting her hair a different way the perfect way to hide your identity. “I told you not to go after bimbos on this LGS. Those pictures I took? They went into a certain magazine I put into the package."

Sweet! Let's see. What the? NOOOOOOOO!

“As you can see I set up the whole Jason Todd attack. Let's see the bimbos come after you now." She blows a kiss at me. “Maybe now you'll learn some restraint. Buh-bye."

Damn Cassie damn.

#5 -- Nepharia's Photo Session

2008-06-17T20:50:00.004-05:00

My first sitting with one of Jay’s photographers was a disaster.

I didn’t want to be there and quite frankly, I don’t think he did either. He kept flinching every time I made a sudden movement. Needless to say, the proofs turned out horribly:

Finally, my photographer’s immediate mentor walked in and perused over these proofs.

”Oh, mein Gott! Das ist Scheiße!” he shouted, tearing up the proofs and looking up at the entire photography crew. He put one hand on his hip, held up the torn proofs, and demanded, “Who shot zeze?”

My photographer raised his hand.

”Get out und tek your nesty pictuurs mit du!” he screamed throwing the pieces at him. He calmed down a bit, straightened his jacket, and walked over to me.

He eyed me over very carefully, taking my chin and turning my head this way and that, with an occasional “uh ha, uh ha”. He fingered my hair as if to find something alive in it then walked around me before stopping again in front of me. He finally brightened considerably, snapped his heels, and held out his hand in welcome

“Gutten tag,” he said. I took his hand and shook it. “I em Hans Volkshutters,” he said with a thick German accent. “I understand you are a Siz Lord, ja?”

I just nodded.

”Mmmm,” he said. “I sink vee can do a little better zan zat,” he motioned in the direction of the photographer that just left. He looked off to the crew and snapped his fingers: three people appeared at his side.

”Take her avay and mek her beeeutifool,” he said, making a “shoo shoo” gesture with one of his hands.

”Listen, I’m exhausted, can’t we do this tomorrow?” I asked.

He looked at me thinking a moment, tapping his chin then asked. “Perhaps you need a little inspiration?”

I scowled. “What type of inspiration?”

”Bring in ze BeckHAM!” he yelled. “Will zis do?”

(gratuitous beefcake shot for us ladies)

”Absolutely!” I said.

David and I were bustled out of the room and to a salon where I was dyed and combed and trussed and made up and perfumed and so on. At the end of it I felt like one of those fine tea cakes at a party that you are afraid to eat.

After a few more sets in front of the camera, I thought we were about done. But once again, I saw Hans looking at the initial proofs and shaking his head.

“Nein, nein,” he said over and over again as he looked through them all. I thought they were great, but he looked at me.

”What’s wrong with them?” I asked, picking up one and looking at it.

I was tired and ready for it to be over. He came over to me and took me by the shoulders.

”You are Siz Lord, ja?” he asked. Again I nodded.

”You are power….und strength….not zis….zis….sex kitten….wis all zees skin” he stammered. “Everyvon already knowz you are a tigress in ze bedroom….”

”What do you mean everyone already knows?” I asked, taking to my feet and putting my hands on my hips.

”Vell….vord gets arount, you know?” he smiled sheepishly. He sidled up to me and nudged me with his elbow, raising his eyebrows a bit. “Zese gladiators talk, you know?”

”Zo,” he said quickly changing the subject, “What ve vant to do eez to show a softer side of ze Siz, but one that is also powerful. Ja?”

”What did you have in mind?” I asked, giving him a sideways glance.

He became visibly excited at this and clapped his hands together. “Oh, I am zo glet you esked….” And he dragged me off into the salon where we spent more time and effort working on my appearance. Except he had the mirrors removed from the room and would not let me see myself before hand.

I was not especially happy about the clothes picked out for me, but he and the rest of the crew seemed quite pleased.

One more photo session later and I was totally exhausted. I collapsed on the floor in my dressing room and was immediately handed some type of alcoholic drink. I quickly downed it and sat the glass down and took a heavy sigh.

Shortly after that, Hans walked into my room and sees me there. Quickly ducking back out to retrieve his camera, she snapped a quick shot of me on the floor. Putting the camera around his neck, he held his hand out to help me off the floor.

”Come,” he said, “I sink you vill like zees much better.”

He took me to the light table and showed me the first proofs of our sessions, leaving me a lone. He was right….he did a phenomenal job:

But then he walked over and handed me the quick snap he took of me just a few minutes before.

”I sink zees vill do,” he said as he passed it to me.

Power(s) Photo Shoot (Erifia)

2008-06-16T22:31:00.000-05:00

“Yeah baby, yeah!” Said the photographer. He walked up to me, “Blue Chicks Rock, Grooovy baby… Groovy yeah!”

His incessant babbling would probably make me want to go sith… But that’s just what that no good Nepharia would want.

“Listen to me baby… We’ve got outfits, screens, weapons and the works… So work it for me… Make love to me through the lens… Kiss my eyes with your body… Yeah!”

“Let’s start with your normal darling… Show it to me.”

(This is my normal outfit. It is the outfit I wear when I pretend to be a dancer. It is part of being a Jedi Spy, I can’t resemble a Jedi in any-way.)

“Let’s see something else baby, change over there… Grrrrrrrooowwwwllll…”

(This is typically how I dress around the jedi temple. A little more conservative, it ticks off some certain old green guys when I distract the pubescent jedis from their studies.)

“Get Mad Baby… Habby-dabu-Dorriieee…”

(This is Darth Inferna, she is as much a part of me, as I am of her. She is my dark half, my moonlit eclipse.)

“You know I don’t like getting my picture taken…”
“Feel it baby… Let the lens read you like a book…Yeah!”

He had some nasty teeth, that’s for sure.

“Come on, let’s see you in some white, why all the depressing colors, show me white!”

(I once wore a clone’s outfit to trick Mace Windu into believing I was just one in a crowd. It looks good on me… I think.)

“Show me relaxed, you look so uptight baby! Have a glass of wine, and chill…”

(This is me at rest. When I lay around the ship, this is the outfit I typically wear, soft taun-taun cotton to keep me warm, but still breathable.)

“Show me what you go to dinner with bald men in!”

I shook my head, I’m sure I still had that laying around.

(It was a nice dinner professor. Thank you for the experience.)

“Show me nothing! Show me your bare flesh…” He looked at me expectantly. He wouldn’t get too far…”

(I like the tribal tattoos. They always made men look twice.)

“Show me your worst enemy baby… Show me you at your worst.”

(No comment.)

“Show me army chick, I like army chicks…”

(This is when I’m feeling Gunsmokeish.)

“Show me your best outfit… I want to see it!”

(Nanny got me this… She’s so sweet. I save it for only the most special occasions, and I love it dearly…)

“Look!” He said, “Our other model is here to help you, yeah. Two blues…”
“Blue… Two… I’m indigo! And she’s… A stupid-dumb-face!” I yelled.
“At least I’m not a tri’lek!” said Aayla.
“Groovy!” he cried, “Show me feisty, get changed, one last picture!”

(I still look better… She looks stupid Aayla is stupid…)

“You’re stupid,” Aayla said, “This is stupid…”
I shook my head, my three lekkus bounced in the air as I kicked Aayla to the ground, “Stupid? This is Hacknor!” She fell into a nearby trashcan. I walked up to the photographer and said, “I want copies… If I don’t get them, I will hunt you down.”

“Groovy baby. Right away.”

Camera Hugs, and Lens Kisses,
Erifia Apoc