BATTLE OF THE MODS: THE EARTHSHAKING FINALE by CavusRex on 06/12/2025
Guess it's time to start holding points hostage again...

Posted 6/11/2025 by Mizal

(Last time, on Thunderdome Arcade...) Cystia had never seen a battle like this. Sentinel and Hatter went to war with savage strikes and parries, searching for any weakness in their foe, any opportunity. The crowd was stunned when they both with zero hesitation resorted to using even children, not just as human shields but as actual blunt weapons. For the mods fought not just for recognition and personal victory, but for ancient ideals from a less civilized era. The inexhaustible power of the mods seemed for awhile like it might lead to another draw, for once again neither could seem to get a hand up over the other for long. It seemed entirely likely their audience would grow weary long before they could decisively settle this thing. But Fate had its own plans. Sentinel feinted with his spork at Hatter's precious hat, and when she raised a hand to protect it, he struck anew, stabbing her right in the strawberry pudding and sending the dessert glass spinning from her grasp. Hatter gasped. The crowd gasped. The glass tinkled into a thousand pieces on the ground. Sentinel grinned in triumph. But the pudding did not splatter. It merely plopped there, and quivered. And then it split in half. And split again. And again. Never seeming to grow any smaller, quite the opposite. Long ago, as Sentinel and Hatter SHOULD have remembered, ancient prophets had foretold in verse: When Sacred Spork in rapturous spell, Stirs fruity Pudding of Deepest Hell. Hark! For flanny doom doth knell. One might really think it was very irresponsible of Sent and Hatter to be holding such items of destructive power in such close proximity, stabbing and waving them at each other and stuff, but that's the mods of Cystia for you! And as the puddings hopped squelchily around the Penguinite's feet, rapidly multiplying, slowly growing, and trying to suction themselves onto his shins and dissolve his feathers, he fled the arena, screeching in abject horror, the whole swarm bouncing after him.

This was all a little strange even by Cystian standards. The crowd didn't know what to think, and there was some worry that this would lead to a pink goo scenario that would see the kingdom's crops, cars, and children devoured. And two of those things would be pretty bad! But behind Hatter, someone began to golf clap. "Just as I planned," Sherbet said, with a cool chuckle. Hatter whirled. "What? You did this? But why? The pudding was so innocent and sweet in its little glass, and now it may destroy the kingdom!"

Sherbet's laugh erupted from the shadowed recesses deep within his paper bag. "Good! I hate the innocent, and LOVE destroying things, because I'm PURE EVIL!" He punctuated this by casually biting into a raw onion, because he was also deranged. "And yes, it was I who chose your prompt, I orchestrated that whole battle. And now that Sent's out of the way, I need only--" Just then, there was a deafening rumble, and Mizal, the actual heroine of this tale who had successfully avoided most of the writing, burst through one of the arena walls, riding on a mighty triceratops. Dozens of other dinosaurs followed, many different species, screeching and roaring, a veritable herd of anachronistic improbability.

"NO! It can't be!" Sherbet shrieked. "You were already dealt with, the mole people--" "Hah! You thought the mole people could take me to the center of the Earth, and I wouldn't just befriend the dinosaurs there and escape! Rookie mistake, Sherb! And now MHD will save the kingdom, after I commend myself for announcing it! I had to write this fucking intro twice you know, I deserve to treat myself!" Mizal slipped out of the saddle and ran up to the announcer's podium. "People of Cystia! Welcome to Thunderdome: Thunderlizards Edition!" She gestured at the rampaging dinosaurs below. "The contestants will now have a fight involving dinosaurs!" "Ugh..." "But that's the stupidest prompt on the list..." Sherb and MHD both echoed each other in dismay, before reluctantly drawing their weapons. It was time to walk the dinosaur.

Posted 6/9/2025 by MiltonManThing