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+---- Thread: Write-Off! (NEW VARIATION? Taking signups!) (/showthread.php?tid=90)
Re: Write-Off! (Will Smith Edition!) - Dragon Fogel - 09-21-2011
I'm done too. Mine's also pretty long.
Show Content
SpoilerWill Smith, formerly known as the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, sighed and got ready for work. This consisted of picking up his briefcase and a small card with his picture and name on it, as he didn't have any clothes to put on.
He kissed his wife, Will Smith, after they showed each other their cards authorizing romantic interest. Then he headed off to the Will Smithland Ministry of Needless Bureaucracy.
It was an unpleasant job, and it didn't pay very well, though it was a whole three credits a year more than his last job at the Will Smithland Ministry of Sewage Treatment.
Every day, Will Smith wished he could go back to how it was back in Hollywood, before he had been kidnapped and forced to live in this nudist colony full of Will Smiths. Now he was poor and had a boring job, and he'd even been working overtime lately at the request of his boss, Will Smith, who had once been defensive end for the New Orleans Saints.
The overtime didn't mean any more credits, of course, but refusing would have meant trouble with the authorities. So he'd gone along with it.
His walk was suddenly interrupted by an announcement. Like every official announcement in Will Smithland, it was broadcast across the city-state through loudspeakers on every building and street corner.
"Attention, citizens! Will Jones has been found guilty of using an unauthorized name! You will all witness his execution!"
Will Smith almost sighed before remembering that he wasn't in a designated sighing zone. He knew Will Smith would probably find some way to punish him for not being on time for work even though attending the execution was mandatory.
The execution consisted of reading aloud a list of embarassing acts that Will Jones had allegedly been involved in, waterboarding him, and then just stabbing him in the heart when he couldn't take the waterboarding any more. Will Smith had seen it dozens of times since arriving in the colony, and it had never gotten any more pleasant.
After Will Jones' body was carried off, the speakers ordered everyone to return to their daily routines. Will Smith decided to take a shortcut through a back alley; it wasn't actually unauthorized yet, and he might still make it to work in time.
When the stuffed penguin struck him in the head, he had just enough time to regret the decision before falling unconscious.
***
British comedian Will Smith smiled as he regarded his latest victim's identification card. The Ministry of Bureaucracy was the perfect place to begin planning his escape! After his close escape from the false "rebellion" the government had set up in order to catch people like him, Smith had fallen into hiding, waiting for opportunities to snatch identification cards.
He wasn't sure if this Will Smith fellow - who looked awfully familiar, had he been on television perhaps? - had high enough clearance to actually adjust bureaucratic records, but it would be good as a scouting mission to find someone who could.
He dragged Smith's unconscious naked body behind the dumpster, took his card and briefcase, and headed off to the ministry.
***
"You're late, Smith. You'd better get some serious work done on your project, or I'll report you to the Central Authority."
Will Smith glared at his employee. There seemed to be something off about him, though Smith couldn't quite put his finger on it.
"Absolutely, sir!" Will Smith ran off, smiling when he knew no one would see him. His skills as a master of disguise hadn't left him.
He checked his identification card, which conveniently had Will Smith's cubicle number on it. That was fortunate; it would probably have raised suspicions if he had to ask where exactly he worked. And the nameplates on the cubicles wouldn't have been any help, considering they all said "Will Smith".
He sat down at the cubicle and booted up Will Smith's computer. He easily guessed the password; it was always the same for everyone, "ilovethecentralauthority", ever since Will Smith had been executed when it was discovered that his password was "centralauthoritycangofuckitself".
Will soon found Smith's documentation on his main project; there was so much of it. It seemed to be a proposal for the Central Authority, designed to make the paperwork process even more labrynthine and full of unusual and meaningless regulations; the sample ID card had a dozen new fields on it, and each of them had a new set of regulations bound to it. For instance, "species" had such regulations as "having a species of Chicken is a crime", "anyone with the species Velociraptor must be obeyed under all circumstances", and "anyone with the species Human must submit themselves to piggyback rides for Central Authority when requested". "Mother's maiden name" had only one related regulation, "this must be Smith". And there were dozens of notes, all from Will Smith - a note in the margin identified him as "the football player".
It was truly incomprehensible. Central Authority would love it.
Will Smith knew that he had to escape before these regulations were implemented and Will Smithland became even more unpleasant to live in. He considered adjusting the regulations, but then decided against it; Will Smith would likely catch on, as he had been so closely involved in this project. And that would most likely just get Will Smith in trouble.
Just then, another execution was announced and everyone was ordered out of the building. That was fortunate timing. Will Smith carefully slipped into the janitor's closet, hoping to search the building for a better opportunity to sabotage the Ministry.
What he didn't realize was that the janitor's closet was secretly an elevator. As he shut the door in case there were any stragglers who might spot him, he accidentally hit the secret switch in the nearby wall, and the room suddenly moved downwards.
When the closet came to a halt, Will Smith cautiously stepped out and saw something shocking: a room filled with velociraptors in cloning tanks. And then he saw Will Smith, football player, off in the distance, kissing an unfamiliar woman. He didn't realize she was Will Smith, Fresh Prince Will Smith's wife.
What he did realize was the link between the velociraptors and Will Smith's proposal. He'd already assumed that the "Velociraptor regulation" was going to be used to allow the Central Authority's leadership to move smoothly through the bureaucracy, by listing their species as that; but in actuality, Smith was going to arrange for full clearance for these velociraptors, who would no doubt be under his control. He could easily take over the entire colony!
The woman suddenly pushed Will Smith away. "I have to go. There's an execution."
Then he punched her.
"Shut up and keep kissing me!"
Will Smith couldn't restrain himself. This Will Smith was a monster, and had to be confronted. But just to be safe, he removed his Will Smith disguise first; he didn't want anybody to blame Will Smith for his actions, after all.
"Let the lady go," Will Smith said to Will Smith. Surprised, the woman fled before Will Smith could hit her again. Will Smith glared at Will Smith angrily.
"Who do you think you are?"
Then a look of horror crossed his face, and he suddenly dropped to his knees.
"Look, pal, I've got plenty of credits. I'll give you six hundred if you keep this quiet and don't tell Central Authority, okay? And then we can both forget this ever happened."
Will Smith looked as though he was about to shout something in response, but then he realized how useful six hundred credits would be in escaping.
"You've got yourself a deal, Will Smith."
"Good, good. This little project is between you and me, yeah?" He walked over to a desk, pulled six small cards out of the drawer, and handed them to Will Smith.
"Don't try pushing your luck, though. If you think you can come back and ask for more, I won't let you walk out of here alive."
Will Smith ran off, realizing how close a call that was and once more donning his Will Smith disguise on the way out. He suspected that Will Smith hadn't realized he knew about Will Smith's project. He then decided to leave before Will Smith changed his mind.
***
Later that evening, Will Smith woke up behind a dumpster in an alley and found his briefcase and identification card.
"Crud. How late am I?" he asked, worried.
The chimes of the Will Smithland national anthem suddenly played over the loudspeakers. The workday was over. And he'd missed it. He was going to be in big trouble, and he knew it.
But that could wait until tomorrow. Today, he was heading back home.
He didn't realize that Will Smith was following him, worried about how his escapades for the day had affected Will Smith.
***
It only took three days for Will Smith's life to fall apart.
First, Will Smith had threated to fire him if he didn't finish the project in two days. Then his wife had refused to renew their romantic interest cards.
Then he had finally finished the project, working nonstop to keep his mind off how terrible it all was. And then Will Smith had fired him anyway.
"I've got no more use for you, Smith," he had said. "Frankly, I'm disappointed in your overall performance. If I were in your shoes, I'd try to leave town, if there were anything to leave to of course, which there definitely isn't. But let's just say it won't be pleasant for you to stick around." He'd then laughed. "Now, I'm going to head over to the Central Authority and present this to them. I'm sure they'll be very pleased with my ideas."
And so, Will Smith had gone to his bedroom, alone and dejected. With nothing to make his life in Will Smithland even remotely tolerable, he had nothing to lose.
In the morning, he was going to leave the city, or die trying.
But just as he entered the room, he saw someone sitting on his bed. He vaguely recognized the stranger as Will Smith, a British comedian he'd seen a couple of times before his abduction.
"What are you doing in my room?" Will Smith shouted incredulously, then sighed. "No, doesn't matter. I'm leaving tomorrow anyways. Or trying."
"But you can't!" Will Smith shouted at him, leaping from the bed and grabbing Will Smith's shoulders. "We have to stop Will Smith - the football player, that is, the one you used to work for - from taking over this colony, and then the world!"
"What? Why me?"
"Er, well, your current mess is sort of my fault, I stole your identification and pretended to be you the other day, and then I looked over your project, and then I discovered that Will Smith was cloning an army of loyal velociraptors who would be outside of the new bureaucracy your project would create."
Will Smith gasped.
"He's presenting the proposal to Central Authority right now! Granted, that's going to take hours to finish because it's incredibly complicated, but still! We have to act fast!"
"Right. I've got six hundred credits in hush money from your boss. And, well, we've also got whatever you have saved up. Any ideas?"
Will Smith thought carefully.
"Yeah, I think I do. But it's not going to be easy."
***
"...and finally, anyone with an identification card listing their species as Velociraptor is exempt from all these regulations, has full security clearance, and is to be obeyed by all other species."
Will Smith smiled. The fools thought he was providing them with a loophole. Little did they realize that he had already prepared ID cards for his velociraptor army, and once the regulations were approved, those cards would immediately become valid.
What he didn't realize was that in the rafters, Will Smith was furiously tapping away at the Hackmaster 1000, tapping into the computer that held all the details of the coming law.
He had to work fast. He had to do it before the vote was complete, or they'd notice the incomplete paragraph. If he was done before then, though, none of them would catch it, and it would be part of the regulations...
The votes were being tallied on a large screen. Forty-two in favor, zero against... sixty-three... seventy-nine... ninety-three...
Dammit, he wasn't done, stupid legalese...
Ninety-nine...
Luckily, the last vote was in the hands of Chairman Will Smith, the head of the entire colony. And he had fallen asleep during the presentation, as usual, and nobody dared to wake him up.
Suddenly, his vote recorder fell out of his prone hands, and landed on the floor.
A single vote for "Against" appeared on the screen.
Frantically, everyone else pushed their "CLEAR VOTE" buttons, then the "Against" numbers started climbing up.
In the rafters, Will Smith cursed silently. If they didn't pass the bill, they'd probably go through the presentation again; then they might catch his alterations. Still, he had to finish; he couldn't waste this opportunity.
Will Smith wasn't any happier about it. He was in a rush to have the bill passed; he couldn't risk the discovery of his velociraptor breeding operation. He needed some way to wake the Chairman.
He technically still had the floor, so he opted to shout into the microphone. Of course, he still had to tread carefully in case something went wrong, so he simply shouted the praises of Will Smithland.
"WILL SMITHLAND IS THE GREATEST AND ONLY COUNTRY ON THE FACE OF THE EARTH AND I AM PROUD TO HAVE SERVED THIS MARVELOUS COUNTRY AND ITS WONDERFUL CHAIRMAN FOR SO MANY YEARS!"
Chairman Will Smith stirred a little in his sleep.
"IT IS MY GREATEST HOPE THAT THESE NEW REGULATIONS WILL BRING EVEN MORE PROSPERITY TO WILL SMITHLAND AND ALLOW ITS WISE LEADERSHIP, ESPECIALLY THE CHAIRMAN, TO GUIDE US INTO AN EVEN BRIGHTER FUTURE THAN THE AMAZINGLY BRIGHT ONE THEY WERE ALREADY GUIDING US INTO!"
The Chairman muttered something incomprehensible, but still didn't wake up. The vote had paused at 95-0 Against as the last few dared to see if the Chairman would wake up and change his vote.
Up in the rafters, Will Smith had made his edits. But they might turn out to be for naught.
Meanwhile, at the podium, Will Smith had decided on a new approach.
"IN FACT, I THINK IT WOULD BE ABSOLUTELY WONDERFUL IF CHAIRMAN WILL SMITH WOULD GIVE US HIS THOUGHTS ON THESE NEW REGULATIONS SO WE COULD HEAR HIS GLORIOUS VOICE. ASSUMING HE WANTS TO DO THAT OF COURSE!"
The Chairman still didn't wake up.
In the rafters, Will Smith was sweating. He looked at the Hackmaster 1000 in his hands, and realized he technically didn't need it any more...
A moment later, as Will Smith was still rambling at the top of his lungs, Chairman Will Smith was struck in the forehead by a small battery.
"Ow!" he shouted, snapping awake.
"AND MAY I JUST SAY HOW MARVELOUS THE CHAIRMAN looks today oh hello Chairman! What did you think of my humble proposal?"
There was a flurry of activity as everyone cancelled their votes again. They didn't want the Chairman to see them voting against him. The total was 1-0 Against.
"What're we voting on?" the Chairman grumbled, rubbing his head.
"M-my new regulations, sir..."
The Chairman mumbled something incomprehensible, then suddenly yelled.
"WHERE'S MY VOTING DOOHICKEY?"
"On... on the floor, sir..."
The Chairman looked down and picked it up.
"mumble grumble... It's stuck on Against! Why are these blasted things so complicated to change your vote on..."
After a minute of fiddling around, the display on the main screen said 1-0 For. Less than 30 seconds later, it was 100-0 For.
The vote was finally complete. The new regulations were in place.
The Chairman stepped up to the podium and grumpily announced that the measure had been approved.
That was when the velociraptors burst in, holding up their ID cards. Will Smith shoved the former Chairman aside, and laughed.
"All in favor of declaring me, Will Smith, as the new Chairman, and also as a velociraptor, please vote now."
The velociraptors charged at the assemblymen and grabbed their vote recorders. They all voted Yes.
Will Smith laughed, but his laughter was cut short as Will Smith dramatically flung open the doors on the other side of the chamber.
He was wearing sunglasses, a baseball cap, and various golden jewelry. The total cost of his ensemble was roughly six hundred credits.
"Yo, man!" he said. "I challenge you to a rap-off for the Chairmanship, in accordance with Article 234, Subsection 19, Paragraph 3B!"
"What? There's no such..."
The monitor suddenly displayed the article in question.
"Yeah there is. And any such challenge supersedes velociraptor orders. Now, are you gonna rap, or are you gonna forfeit right now and hand over the chairmanship?"
Will Smith nervously looked around the room. His velociraptors were looking at him with hungry eyes. It was clear that he couldn't appear weak in front of them.
"I accept your challenge!"
"Good. Then it's on!"
***
The contest was held in the town square. The entire colony had been woken up to watch it.
Will Smith made the first move.
"Now this is a story all about how
My life got flipped-turned upside down
And I'd like to take a minute
Just sit right there
I'll tell you how I'm gonna be your next Chairman
In west Philadalphia born and raised
Then I had some fun in my acting days
Had a TV show, played a cool teen
Then I made my way to the big screen
Life's cool, I got myself money and fame
Then all of a sudden everything turns lame
I get knocked out thanks to drugs in my food,
Next thing I know, I'm wakin' up nude
No cash, no nothing, just a lousy job
Workin' for some worthless slob
Everyone's got the same name as me
No clothes, no rights, but they tell us we're free
Will Smith over there, he's been usin' me
All this time he's been foolin' with my lady
Didn't like her much, but she was all that I had
'Cause everythin' in this town's been so goddamn bad
Now he's taken over and says he's a raptor
But when I'm done, he'll see that my rap tore
His plan to shreds and left him in the dust
I'll be in charge, my rule will be just
Sayin' it now, I'll be tough but fair
For the five minutes or so that I serve as Chair
Long enough so all the bad guys are banned
Then I'm gonna dissolve Will Smithland
Everyone here is gonna be free
I'll put an end to this tyranny
You can go back home, that's what I say
Once this place is back in the USA!"
There was a rousing cheer from the audience. Even the raptors applauded. Then it was Will Smith's turn. He faced the audience nervously.
"Uh.
My name is Will Smith and I beat my wife
But I'm gonna be Chairman for life
Goddammit I can't think of anything
I don't even know how to sing!"
There was no response. Not even a whimper.
"Looks like I win, Smith," Will Smith said, grinning. "Now, you'd better come along quietly. We're all gonna be gettin' dressed now, only you're gonna be wearing prison clothes."
And then Will Smith and Will Smith laughed as Will Smith was dragged off to a holding cell by two velociraptors.
***
Will Smith resumed his acting career.
Will Smith returned to comedy. Will Smith invited him to co-star in a film as a reward for his help, but he declined.
Will Smith was sent to jail for life, as were the Will Smiths who made up the Central Authority and had been responsible for its various attrocities.
Will Smith, Will Smith's wife, never saw her colony-husband again and went back to working at a McDonalds in Idaho.
Most of the other Will Smiths returned to the lives they had before, with some awkwardness.
The velociraptors, who were obviously all named Will Smith, took over NASA and ran it with a ruthless efficiency. They had started a colony on the moon within five years and called it New Will Smithland.
Will Jones was reanimated during the zombie apocalypse and became the charismatic leader of the zombies.
He kissed his wife, Will Smith, after they showed each other their cards authorizing romantic interest. Then he headed off to the Will Smithland Ministry of Needless Bureaucracy.
It was an unpleasant job, and it didn't pay very well, though it was a whole three credits a year more than his last job at the Will Smithland Ministry of Sewage Treatment.
Every day, Will Smith wished he could go back to how it was back in Hollywood, before he had been kidnapped and forced to live in this nudist colony full of Will Smiths. Now he was poor and had a boring job, and he'd even been working overtime lately at the request of his boss, Will Smith, who had once been defensive end for the New Orleans Saints.
The overtime didn't mean any more credits, of course, but refusing would have meant trouble with the authorities. So he'd gone along with it.
His walk was suddenly interrupted by an announcement. Like every official announcement in Will Smithland, it was broadcast across the city-state through loudspeakers on every building and street corner.
"Attention, citizens! Will Jones has been found guilty of using an unauthorized name! You will all witness his execution!"
Will Smith almost sighed before remembering that he wasn't in a designated sighing zone. He knew Will Smith would probably find some way to punish him for not being on time for work even though attending the execution was mandatory.
The execution consisted of reading aloud a list of embarassing acts that Will Jones had allegedly been involved in, waterboarding him, and then just stabbing him in the heart when he couldn't take the waterboarding any more. Will Smith had seen it dozens of times since arriving in the colony, and it had never gotten any more pleasant.
After Will Jones' body was carried off, the speakers ordered everyone to return to their daily routines. Will Smith decided to take a shortcut through a back alley; it wasn't actually unauthorized yet, and he might still make it to work in time.
When the stuffed penguin struck him in the head, he had just enough time to regret the decision before falling unconscious.
***
British comedian Will Smith smiled as he regarded his latest victim's identification card. The Ministry of Bureaucracy was the perfect place to begin planning his escape! After his close escape from the false "rebellion" the government had set up in order to catch people like him, Smith had fallen into hiding, waiting for opportunities to snatch identification cards.
He wasn't sure if this Will Smith fellow - who looked awfully familiar, had he been on television perhaps? - had high enough clearance to actually adjust bureaucratic records, but it would be good as a scouting mission to find someone who could.
He dragged Smith's unconscious naked body behind the dumpster, took his card and briefcase, and headed off to the ministry.
***
"You're late, Smith. You'd better get some serious work done on your project, or I'll report you to the Central Authority."
Will Smith glared at his employee. There seemed to be something off about him, though Smith couldn't quite put his finger on it.
"Absolutely, sir!" Will Smith ran off, smiling when he knew no one would see him. His skills as a master of disguise hadn't left him.
He checked his identification card, which conveniently had Will Smith's cubicle number on it. That was fortunate; it would probably have raised suspicions if he had to ask where exactly he worked. And the nameplates on the cubicles wouldn't have been any help, considering they all said "Will Smith".
He sat down at the cubicle and booted up Will Smith's computer. He easily guessed the password; it was always the same for everyone, "ilovethecentralauthority", ever since Will Smith had been executed when it was discovered that his password was "centralauthoritycangofuckitself".
Will soon found Smith's documentation on his main project; there was so much of it. It seemed to be a proposal for the Central Authority, designed to make the paperwork process even more labrynthine and full of unusual and meaningless regulations; the sample ID card had a dozen new fields on it, and each of them had a new set of regulations bound to it. For instance, "species" had such regulations as "having a species of Chicken is a crime", "anyone with the species Velociraptor must be obeyed under all circumstances", and "anyone with the species Human must submit themselves to piggyback rides for Central Authority when requested". "Mother's maiden name" had only one related regulation, "this must be Smith". And there were dozens of notes, all from Will Smith - a note in the margin identified him as "the football player".
It was truly incomprehensible. Central Authority would love it.
Will Smith knew that he had to escape before these regulations were implemented and Will Smithland became even more unpleasant to live in. He considered adjusting the regulations, but then decided against it; Will Smith would likely catch on, as he had been so closely involved in this project. And that would most likely just get Will Smith in trouble.
Just then, another execution was announced and everyone was ordered out of the building. That was fortunate timing. Will Smith carefully slipped into the janitor's closet, hoping to search the building for a better opportunity to sabotage the Ministry.
What he didn't realize was that the janitor's closet was secretly an elevator. As he shut the door in case there were any stragglers who might spot him, he accidentally hit the secret switch in the nearby wall, and the room suddenly moved downwards.
When the closet came to a halt, Will Smith cautiously stepped out and saw something shocking: a room filled with velociraptors in cloning tanks. And then he saw Will Smith, football player, off in the distance, kissing an unfamiliar woman. He didn't realize she was Will Smith, Fresh Prince Will Smith's wife.
What he did realize was the link between the velociraptors and Will Smith's proposal. He'd already assumed that the "Velociraptor regulation" was going to be used to allow the Central Authority's leadership to move smoothly through the bureaucracy, by listing their species as that; but in actuality, Smith was going to arrange for full clearance for these velociraptors, who would no doubt be under his control. He could easily take over the entire colony!
The woman suddenly pushed Will Smith away. "I have to go. There's an execution."
Then he punched her.
"Shut up and keep kissing me!"
Will Smith couldn't restrain himself. This Will Smith was a monster, and had to be confronted. But just to be safe, he removed his Will Smith disguise first; he didn't want anybody to blame Will Smith for his actions, after all.
"Let the lady go," Will Smith said to Will Smith. Surprised, the woman fled before Will Smith could hit her again. Will Smith glared at Will Smith angrily.
"Who do you think you are?"
Then a look of horror crossed his face, and he suddenly dropped to his knees.
"Look, pal, I've got plenty of credits. I'll give you six hundred if you keep this quiet and don't tell Central Authority, okay? And then we can both forget this ever happened."
Will Smith looked as though he was about to shout something in response, but then he realized how useful six hundred credits would be in escaping.
"You've got yourself a deal, Will Smith."
"Good, good. This little project is between you and me, yeah?" He walked over to a desk, pulled six small cards out of the drawer, and handed them to Will Smith.
"Don't try pushing your luck, though. If you think you can come back and ask for more, I won't let you walk out of here alive."
Will Smith ran off, realizing how close a call that was and once more donning his Will Smith disguise on the way out. He suspected that Will Smith hadn't realized he knew about Will Smith's project. He then decided to leave before Will Smith changed his mind.
***
Later that evening, Will Smith woke up behind a dumpster in an alley and found his briefcase and identification card.
"Crud. How late am I?" he asked, worried.
The chimes of the Will Smithland national anthem suddenly played over the loudspeakers. The workday was over. And he'd missed it. He was going to be in big trouble, and he knew it.
But that could wait until tomorrow. Today, he was heading back home.
He didn't realize that Will Smith was following him, worried about how his escapades for the day had affected Will Smith.
***
It only took three days for Will Smith's life to fall apart.
First, Will Smith had threated to fire him if he didn't finish the project in two days. Then his wife had refused to renew their romantic interest cards.
Then he had finally finished the project, working nonstop to keep his mind off how terrible it all was. And then Will Smith had fired him anyway.
"I've got no more use for you, Smith," he had said. "Frankly, I'm disappointed in your overall performance. If I were in your shoes, I'd try to leave town, if there were anything to leave to of course, which there definitely isn't. But let's just say it won't be pleasant for you to stick around." He'd then laughed. "Now, I'm going to head over to the Central Authority and present this to them. I'm sure they'll be very pleased with my ideas."
And so, Will Smith had gone to his bedroom, alone and dejected. With nothing to make his life in Will Smithland even remotely tolerable, he had nothing to lose.
In the morning, he was going to leave the city, or die trying.
But just as he entered the room, he saw someone sitting on his bed. He vaguely recognized the stranger as Will Smith, a British comedian he'd seen a couple of times before his abduction.
"What are you doing in my room?" Will Smith shouted incredulously, then sighed. "No, doesn't matter. I'm leaving tomorrow anyways. Or trying."
"But you can't!" Will Smith shouted at him, leaping from the bed and grabbing Will Smith's shoulders. "We have to stop Will Smith - the football player, that is, the one you used to work for - from taking over this colony, and then the world!"
"What? Why me?"
"Er, well, your current mess is sort of my fault, I stole your identification and pretended to be you the other day, and then I looked over your project, and then I discovered that Will Smith was cloning an army of loyal velociraptors who would be outside of the new bureaucracy your project would create."
Will Smith gasped.
"He's presenting the proposal to Central Authority right now! Granted, that's going to take hours to finish because it's incredibly complicated, but still! We have to act fast!"
"Right. I've got six hundred credits in hush money from your boss. And, well, we've also got whatever you have saved up. Any ideas?"
Will Smith thought carefully.
"Yeah, I think I do. But it's not going to be easy."
***
"...and finally, anyone with an identification card listing their species as Velociraptor is exempt from all these regulations, has full security clearance, and is to be obeyed by all other species."
Will Smith smiled. The fools thought he was providing them with a loophole. Little did they realize that he had already prepared ID cards for his velociraptor army, and once the regulations were approved, those cards would immediately become valid.
What he didn't realize was that in the rafters, Will Smith was furiously tapping away at the Hackmaster 1000, tapping into the computer that held all the details of the coming law.
He had to work fast. He had to do it before the vote was complete, or they'd notice the incomplete paragraph. If he was done before then, though, none of them would catch it, and it would be part of the regulations...
The votes were being tallied on a large screen. Forty-two in favor, zero against... sixty-three... seventy-nine... ninety-three...
Dammit, he wasn't done, stupid legalese...
Ninety-nine...
Luckily, the last vote was in the hands of Chairman Will Smith, the head of the entire colony. And he had fallen asleep during the presentation, as usual, and nobody dared to wake him up.
Suddenly, his vote recorder fell out of his prone hands, and landed on the floor.
A single vote for "Against" appeared on the screen.
Frantically, everyone else pushed their "CLEAR VOTE" buttons, then the "Against" numbers started climbing up.
In the rafters, Will Smith cursed silently. If they didn't pass the bill, they'd probably go through the presentation again; then they might catch his alterations. Still, he had to finish; he couldn't waste this opportunity.
Will Smith wasn't any happier about it. He was in a rush to have the bill passed; he couldn't risk the discovery of his velociraptor breeding operation. He needed some way to wake the Chairman.
He technically still had the floor, so he opted to shout into the microphone. Of course, he still had to tread carefully in case something went wrong, so he simply shouted the praises of Will Smithland.
"WILL SMITHLAND IS THE GREATEST AND ONLY COUNTRY ON THE FACE OF THE EARTH AND I AM PROUD TO HAVE SERVED THIS MARVELOUS COUNTRY AND ITS WONDERFUL CHAIRMAN FOR SO MANY YEARS!"
Chairman Will Smith stirred a little in his sleep.
"IT IS MY GREATEST HOPE THAT THESE NEW REGULATIONS WILL BRING EVEN MORE PROSPERITY TO WILL SMITHLAND AND ALLOW ITS WISE LEADERSHIP, ESPECIALLY THE CHAIRMAN, TO GUIDE US INTO AN EVEN BRIGHTER FUTURE THAN THE AMAZINGLY BRIGHT ONE THEY WERE ALREADY GUIDING US INTO!"
The Chairman muttered something incomprehensible, but still didn't wake up. The vote had paused at 95-0 Against as the last few dared to see if the Chairman would wake up and change his vote.
Up in the rafters, Will Smith had made his edits. But they might turn out to be for naught.
Meanwhile, at the podium, Will Smith had decided on a new approach.
"IN FACT, I THINK IT WOULD BE ABSOLUTELY WONDERFUL IF CHAIRMAN WILL SMITH WOULD GIVE US HIS THOUGHTS ON THESE NEW REGULATIONS SO WE COULD HEAR HIS GLORIOUS VOICE. ASSUMING HE WANTS TO DO THAT OF COURSE!"
The Chairman still didn't wake up.
In the rafters, Will Smith was sweating. He looked at the Hackmaster 1000 in his hands, and realized he technically didn't need it any more...
A moment later, as Will Smith was still rambling at the top of his lungs, Chairman Will Smith was struck in the forehead by a small battery.
"Ow!" he shouted, snapping awake.
"AND MAY I JUST SAY HOW MARVELOUS THE CHAIRMAN looks today oh hello Chairman! What did you think of my humble proposal?"
There was a flurry of activity as everyone cancelled their votes again. They didn't want the Chairman to see them voting against him. The total was 1-0 Against.
"What're we voting on?" the Chairman grumbled, rubbing his head.
"M-my new regulations, sir..."
The Chairman mumbled something incomprehensible, then suddenly yelled.
"WHERE'S MY VOTING DOOHICKEY?"
"On... on the floor, sir..."
The Chairman looked down and picked it up.
"mumble grumble... It's stuck on Against! Why are these blasted things so complicated to change your vote on..."
After a minute of fiddling around, the display on the main screen said 1-0 For. Less than 30 seconds later, it was 100-0 For.
The vote was finally complete. The new regulations were in place.
The Chairman stepped up to the podium and grumpily announced that the measure had been approved.
That was when the velociraptors burst in, holding up their ID cards. Will Smith shoved the former Chairman aside, and laughed.
"All in favor of declaring me, Will Smith, as the new Chairman, and also as a velociraptor, please vote now."
The velociraptors charged at the assemblymen and grabbed their vote recorders. They all voted Yes.
Will Smith laughed, but his laughter was cut short as Will Smith dramatically flung open the doors on the other side of the chamber.
He was wearing sunglasses, a baseball cap, and various golden jewelry. The total cost of his ensemble was roughly six hundred credits.
"Yo, man!" he said. "I challenge you to a rap-off for the Chairmanship, in accordance with Article 234, Subsection 19, Paragraph 3B!"
"What? There's no such..."
The monitor suddenly displayed the article in question.
"Yeah there is. And any such challenge supersedes velociraptor orders. Now, are you gonna rap, or are you gonna forfeit right now and hand over the chairmanship?"
Will Smith nervously looked around the room. His velociraptors were looking at him with hungry eyes. It was clear that he couldn't appear weak in front of them.
"I accept your challenge!"
"Good. Then it's on!"
***
The contest was held in the town square. The entire colony had been woken up to watch it.
Will Smith made the first move.
"Now this is a story all about how
My life got flipped-turned upside down
And I'd like to take a minute
Just sit right there
I'll tell you how I'm gonna be your next Chairman
In west Philadalphia born and raised
Then I had some fun in my acting days
Had a TV show, played a cool teen
Then I made my way to the big screen
Life's cool, I got myself money and fame
Then all of a sudden everything turns lame
I get knocked out thanks to drugs in my food,
Next thing I know, I'm wakin' up nude
No cash, no nothing, just a lousy job
Workin' for some worthless slob
Everyone's got the same name as me
No clothes, no rights, but they tell us we're free
Will Smith over there, he's been usin' me
All this time he's been foolin' with my lady
Didn't like her much, but she was all that I had
'Cause everythin' in this town's been so goddamn bad
Now he's taken over and says he's a raptor
But when I'm done, he'll see that my rap tore
His plan to shreds and left him in the dust
I'll be in charge, my rule will be just
Sayin' it now, I'll be tough but fair
For the five minutes or so that I serve as Chair
Long enough so all the bad guys are banned
Then I'm gonna dissolve Will Smithland
Everyone here is gonna be free
I'll put an end to this tyranny
You can go back home, that's what I say
Once this place is back in the USA!"
There was a rousing cheer from the audience. Even the raptors applauded. Then it was Will Smith's turn. He faced the audience nervously.
"Uh.
My name is Will Smith and I beat my wife
But I'm gonna be Chairman for life
Goddammit I can't think of anything
I don't even know how to sing!"
There was no response. Not even a whimper.
"Looks like I win, Smith," Will Smith said, grinning. "Now, you'd better come along quietly. We're all gonna be gettin' dressed now, only you're gonna be wearing prison clothes."
And then Will Smith and Will Smith laughed as Will Smith was dragged off to a holding cell by two velociraptors.
***
Will Smith resumed his acting career.
Will Smith returned to comedy. Will Smith invited him to co-star in a film as a reward for his help, but he declined.
Will Smith was sent to jail for life, as were the Will Smiths who made up the Central Authority and had been responsible for its various attrocities.
Will Smith, Will Smith's wife, never saw her colony-husband again and went back to working at a McDonalds in Idaho.
Most of the other Will Smiths returned to the lives they had before, with some awkwardness.
The velociraptors, who were obviously all named Will Smith, took over NASA and ran it with a ruthless efficiency. They had started a colony on the moon within five years and called it New Will Smithland.
Will Jones was reanimated during the zombie apocalypse and became the charismatic leader of the zombies.
Re: Write-Off! (Will Smith Edition!) - ☆ C.H.W.O.K.A ☆ - 09-22-2011
I liked Ixcaliber's more. It felt less rushed, probably due to the longer paragraphs and less rapidly-advancing plot.
Re: Write-Off! (Will Smith Edition!) - Solaris - 09-22-2011
Yea, I am in agreement with Chwoka on this, but I do feel that Fogel had a better ending and that rap off was majestic ;A;
Re: Write-Off! (Will Smith Edition!) - Ixcaliber - 09-22-2011
Apparently I won this somehow.
Anyway yes round three. As fogel said it can be me versus someone or two new people. Whatever people want.
I believe Woffs expressed an interest in participating in this round?
Re: Write-Off! (Will Smith Edition!) - Solaris - 09-22-2011
I'd like to storywrite if that's possible!
Re: Write-Off! (Will Smith Edition!) - Dragon Fogel - 09-22-2011
I'll provide characters!
Re: Write-Off! (Round 3 awaiting volunteers!) - Robust Laser - 09-22-2011
Setting!
Re: Write-Off! (Round 3 awaiting volunteers!) - Woffles - 09-23-2011
I was up for the challenge, but I guess if Sols wants to I'd be glad to wait a round and provide a plot instead, actually.
Re: Write-Off! (Round 3 awaiting volunteers!) - Solaris - 09-23-2011
We could just go head to head rather than foyt ix if that's fine with you and him?
Re: Write-Off! (Round 3 awaiting volunteers!) - Godbot - 09-23-2011
I s'pose I could figure out a plot if no one else minds.
Re: Write-Off! (Round 3 awaiting volunteers!) - Ixcaliber - 09-23-2011
I'll step aside and let you guys have at it if you want.
Re: Write-Off! (Round 3 awaiting volunteers!) - Woffles - 09-23-2011
Well sure, anything is fine by me. I'm just in it for the funtimes. Sols, you're on then!
Re: Write-Off! (Round 3 awaiting volunteers!) - Solaris - 09-23-2011
woooooooo rite foyt nite!
Re: Write-Off! (Round 3 awaiting volunteers!) - Ixcaliber - 09-23-2011
SOL Vs. WOJJ WRITAN FOYT! place yer bets here!
Anyway Fogel has sent characters. We're waiting on Goddles and Cyb to send me their parts and then I'll post them and this thing can happen.
Re: Write-Off! (Round 3 awaiting volunteers!) - Godbot - 09-24-2011
Sent in my plot.
Re: Write-Off! (Round 3 awaiting volunteers!) - Ixcaliber - 09-24-2011
Characters from Fogel:
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Spoiler1. Carl Woodcutter, dentist and blacksmith extraordinaire.
2. Mitch Fernson, paranoid retired soldier who carries his rifle everywhere he goes.
3. Suzette Phillipe, the Queen of Sandwichland.
2. Mitch Fernson, paranoid retired soldier who carries his rifle everywhere he goes.
3. Suzette Phillipe, the Queen of Sandwichland.
Setting from Cyb:
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SpoilerSETTING: Planet Japan
In the year 2105, the preparations had been complete. Japan had spent billions of dollars silently constructing underneath the island nation, and it would be mere days before it left the face of the Earth. Without much warning, a huge dome closed over the entire country, and it blasted off into space.
Orbiting Mars, most of the nation is still trying to adjust to what happened a few years prior. Seeing somebody suddenly realize that they're a few million miles from their old home and breaking into a panic isn't entirely uncommon.
The reasons for leaving the planet are still not entirely certain. Some theorize it was an environmental thing, and on their own they could more easily regulate that kind of thing. Others figure the entire Japan government went crazy. Others figure it's much more sinister reasoning, using the laser turrets attached to the dome and base as a basis.
Also adding to the suspicion is their limit on tourism. Naturally, visiting an entire space-based country would be amazing, but they only let a few hundred people take the trip every year, and they almost never let Japanese natives out. Never mind the amount of tourists that decide to just stay there. As a result, most of the tourists also end up as spies, trying to figure out what the hell is up with this shit.
In the year 2105, the preparations had been complete. Japan had spent billions of dollars silently constructing underneath the island nation, and it would be mere days before it left the face of the Earth. Without much warning, a huge dome closed over the entire country, and it blasted off into space.
Orbiting Mars, most of the nation is still trying to adjust to what happened a few years prior. Seeing somebody suddenly realize that they're a few million miles from their old home and breaking into a panic isn't entirely uncommon.
The reasons for leaving the planet are still not entirely certain. Some theorize it was an environmental thing, and on their own they could more easily regulate that kind of thing. Others figure the entire Japan government went crazy. Others figure it's much more sinister reasoning, using the laser turrets attached to the dome and base as a basis.
Also adding to the suspicion is their limit on tourism. Naturally, visiting an entire space-based country would be amazing, but they only let a few hundred people take the trip every year, and they almost never let Japanese natives out. Never mind the amount of tourists that decide to just stay there. As a result, most of the tourists also end up as spies, trying to figure out what the hell is up with this shit.
Plot from Goddles:
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SpoilerCharacter A is dead.
S/he's dead because Character C murdered him/her to get at an extremely important possession of A's (hereafter referred to as Z).
Unfortunately, A never knew that C existed.
Instead, A's left Possession Z to his/her old acquaintance, Character B.
C pretends to fall in love with B, hoping to get at Z, possibly through marriage.
B is fully aware of this, and is in fact taking advantage of C's sneakiness and allowing C to think that s/he's tricking him/her, because B actually loves C but is way too [trait goes here] to admit it.
There's no way in hell B would give up Z just for C, though. C'd run right off with it, and besides, it's definitely not worth it. Not even for C.
(Oh, by the way, A is a ghost haunting B.)
S/he's dead because Character C murdered him/her to get at an extremely important possession of A's (hereafter referred to as Z).
Unfortunately, A never knew that C existed.
Instead, A's left Possession Z to his/her old acquaintance, Character B.
C pretends to fall in love with B, hoping to get at Z, possibly through marriage.
B is fully aware of this, and is in fact taking advantage of C's sneakiness and allowing C to think that s/he's tricking him/her, because B actually loves C but is way too [trait goes here] to admit it.
There's no way in hell B would give up Z just for C, though. C'd run right off with it, and besides, it's definitely not worth it. Not even for C.
(Oh, by the way, A is a ghost haunting B.)
Looking forward to this.
Re: Write-Off! (Round 3 awaiting volunteers!) - Robust Laser - 11-11-2011
wow guys what amazing renditions we have here but maybe we could get a couple other stories out of this too
Re: Write-Off! (Round 3 awaiting volunteers!) - btp - 11-14-2011
So lets maybe get eight interested parties and do a little tournament.
We could have eight writers, for each round two would write, three would judge and three would write plot, setting, characters.
That is unless we have enough people for dedicated judges.
So the first round would go like:
Game: PCS: Judges
(1 v 2 ) (3, 4, 5) (6, 7, 8)
(3 v 4 ) (5, 6, 7) (8, 1, 2)
(5 v 6 ) (7, 8, 1) (2, 3, 4)
(7 v 8 ) (1, 2, 3) (4, 5, 6)
Of course we'd randomize the entries and we're all friends here so I think it would work. But if anyone wants to volunteer to be a dedicated judge then you can sign up for that as well (thus no significant conflicts of interest).
Anyway I'll go ahead and sign up.
1. btp
2. GreyGabe
3. DragonFogel
4. cyber95
5.
6.
7.
8.
Re: Write-Off! (Round 3 awaiting volunteers!) - GreyGabe - 11-14-2011
I'll throw my hat into the ring! This kind of thing is pretty much always fun.
Re: Write-Off! (Round 3 awaiting volunteers!) - Dragon Fogel - 11-14-2011
I'm always up for more writing. Sign me up!
Re: Write-Off! (NEW VARIATION? Taking signups!) - btp - 11-14-2011
mmmkay just 5 more to go!
Re: Write-Off! (NEW VARIATION? Taking signups!) - Robust Laser - 11-14-2011
I am in like Bob.
Re: Write-Off! (NEW VARIATION? Taking signups!) - btp - 11-14-2011
woot! we now have enough for a mini-tournament! which would be terrible and boring in comparison but I'm pretty sure we can find 4 more people
Though someone should really mention this in IRC when people are on (and I am at work) and we can get things moving pretty quickly.
Re: Write-Off! (NEW VARIATION? Taking signups!) - btp - 11-16-2011
I was thinking about it, and there should probably be a word count cap for each round. Comparing a 2000 word story vs a 8000 word story would sort of be like sending in different class fighters. More words doesn't mean better writing, but if people started to get overly competitive about it (which is something I tend to do), having a word count limit could prevent ridiculously long entries.
I'm thinking about 3500 to start off with (based off Ix and DF's last entries) and maybe 4000 for round 2 and 5000 for the final round.
RE: Write-Off! (NEW VARIATION? Taking signups!) - Dragon Fogel - 12-24-2012
So I'm bringing up this thread because MrGuy and I just did one of these. Here's what we were working with!
Characters, by Pharmacy:
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Spoiler![[Image: partytime.png]](https://i778.photobucket.com/albums/yy62/hermitcat/MORE%20PICTURES/partytime.png)
Setting, by Agent:
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Spoiler Setting: FORWARD BASE
An abandoned military base, which has been resettled and expanded into a proper city by pioneers following a global pandemic. Civilization, once decimated, has come a long way reforming, and many aspects of life as we know it have returned - but the streets are still much emptier than they used to be, as is the world.
The city does have an ostensible quasi-military governance owing to its nature and history, not to mention the extensive armories, but without the manpower law enforcement is minimal and usually left to the citizens. It's a cowboy town, all right.
An abandoned military base, which has been resettled and expanded into a proper city by pioneers following a global pandemic. Civilization, once decimated, has come a long way reforming, and many aspects of life as we know it have returned - but the streets are still much emptier than they used to be, as is the world.
The city does have an ostensible quasi-military governance owing to its nature and history, not to mention the extensive armories, but without the manpower law enforcement is minimal and usually left to the citizens. It's a cowboy town, all right.
Plot, by Pick Yer Poison:
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Spoiler
<PickYerPoison> A and B are in a sports competition, and have always tied for first place. C enters and threatens to upset this balance, so A and B band together to sabotage C so that they can stay fighting each other.
<PickYerPoison> at the end, when all the sabotage attempts have failed, C explains that they're actually a fusion of A and B from another universe, which is why they're the perfect counter
<PickYerPoison> and then A, B, and C have a highly illegal three way sports match, winner take all
<PickYerPoison> A and B both gang up on C, then surrender to each other, laughing as they walk out, sharing the trophy
<PickYerPoison> A and B are in a sports competition, and have always tied for first place. C enters and threatens to upset this balance, so A and B band together to sabotage C so that they can stay fighting each other.
<PickYerPoison> at the end, when all the sabotage attempts have failed, C explains that they're actually a fusion of A and B from another universe, which is why they're the perfect counter
<PickYerPoison> and then A, B, and C have a highly illegal three way sports match, winner take all
<PickYerPoison> A and B both gang up on C, then surrender to each other, laughing as they walk out, sharing the trophy
MrGuy's story:
Show Content
Spoiler
The crowd cheered as the man in the general's uniform stepped up to the microphone. "We're almost at the end here, folks! Facing off for the third year in a row, LET'S HEAR IT FOR OUR FINAL CONTESTANTS! In the blue corner, weighing in at one hundred forty eight pounds, STEEEEVE!"
The lawmage rolled his eyes and sauntered forward, lazily adjusting his conical hat. Inwardly, he was brimming with rage and determination, as well as more than a bit of anxiety, and he clutched his tome tightly; but, well-versed in keeping up appearances, he effortlessly presented a cool facade as he stepped into the hexagonal arena.
"And in the orange corner, at one hundred seventy three pounds, Nessie!" The cheers promptly got much louder as the young lady whipped her red hair back, laughing. She quickly ran up to the center line and, after tossing down a gauntlet, extended her now bare hand in greeting. Steve sighed, but responded with a firm handshake, as his old Master had always taught him to.
The General stepped out of the hexagon, still holding the microphone. "As always, the rules are streamlined for the finals! One round, no time limit! Hit the floor for ten seconds, you lose; first to three points wins!" At this, Nessie double-checked the straps on her armor before nodding cheerfully. "On your marks... get set... GO!"
Quickly, the girl unsheathed her cutlasses, while the lawmage shot up into the air and threw contracts at her. Effortlessly, Nessie shredded all but one, in which she agreed to keep within the inner boundaries if Steve would stop that stupid flying around garbage; this she grabbed out of the air, and it quickly burned up as Steve dropped back to the ground.
The two began circling each other, Steve's eyes burning with determination while Nessie simply grinned back. Occasionally, he'd launch a subpoena or she'd suddenly lunge, but they both knew what they were really doing: biding their time until the ball entered play.
After the standard 90 seconds passed, The General tossed the ball towards the center of the hexagon; but what was unexpected was that, as the two jumped for the ball, Nessie would be knocked to the ground by a sharpened paintbrush, allowing Steve to easily take possession.
Almost instantly, everyone's gaze turned to where the projectile had come from - just on the edge of the playing field, there stood a fellow clad in home-made ninja garb and armor made of sketchpads. The General was outraged. "YOU! I don't know who you are, but-"
The interloper quickly cut him off. "There shall be no interference, on the part of spectators, with the match. But, my friend, I think you'll find that has not occurred." He gave a slight bow, and Steve - irritated by the ninja's disruption of play - growled and cast a Punishment of Flagrant Violation upon him. But where normally, golden chains should have brought him down to the ground, they instead fell apart at the ninja's wrists; he gave a slight chuckle, and revealed the abnormal width of the links.
Both combatants were taken aback, even as Nessie dusted herself off. A loophole? But that rule was- They were unable to finish this thought, however, before Steve found himself charging towards the opposite edge of the playfield and leaping towards the net. The ninja shouted, "should the contestant with the ball fail to act for ten seconds, they shall forfeit a point! And I won't let that happen!"
Steve growled, and quickly tossed the ball down to Nessie. "Can't call that 'failure to act', friend." The pirate-paladin looked back and forth, unsure what to do; eventually, the ninja decided for her by tossing a smoke bomb at her feet; she leapt out of the way and towards the net on Steve's end, just managing to stop herself from stepping outside the smaller chalk hexagon.
If he's over there, I could make the shot... She hesitated a bit too long, though, and her opportunity was lost. Irrelevant, she decided; if she was to best her rival, it had to be fair or it wouldn't be any fun. She turned to the ninja, tossing the ball back to the lawmage. "Alright, you! Get ready for some smiting!" She whipped out her magic revolver and began firing at the interloper, who dodged without even one of his expertly-groomed hairs falling out of place, at which point he retaliated with a series of fireballs.
The General and the crowd were both getting flustered and yelling about Rule Four, but Steve silenced them by shouting back "Firearms against the other contestant, morons! Doesn't say anything about the ball or cheating assholes!" The ninja quickly countered that he had been proven not to be cheating per se, at which point the lawmage flipped him off with one hand and used the other to weave a cage of the finest print around him. Unfortunately, he had failed to account for Roger's art skills, and he quickly escaped by caricaturing the pair and claiming fair use.
"I've had enough of this!" the ninja shouted; and in the blink of an eye, just as Steve tossed the ball back to Nessie, he whipped out a harpoon gun and fired at the ball. Then, dashing towards the arena, he reeled the ball in so it met him just at the edge of the hexagon, at which point he leapt towards the lady's net and dunked.
There was quite a bit of murmuring before The General finally said, with considerable trepidation, "Uh... I have d-decided that shall count, by virtue of not wanting to be stabbed with a poison needle." A loud "ding!" emanated from the scoreboard, which now read "Nessie: 0 - Steve: 1"
Steve stared in outrage, muttering a string of curses and legalese; Nessie was furious enough to be on the verge of tears; and Roger just laughed and tossed the ball back to the man nominally running the show. "A wise call, fellow. And I must say-" He quickly dodged several sword slashes and a briefcase, before hopping outside the arena's outlines and laughing. "Come on, now. My employers and I don't have all day."
Nessie screamed at him. "You're trying to fix this match, aren't you, you piece of shit? Well you're going to cut it out this instant[/b!]" With a tremendous battle cry, she scraped one sword across another, shooting tremendous waves of holy energy at the ninja; but these his makeshift armor absorbed, much to everyone's shock. "H-how?.."
Roger chuckled again, tearing out a slightly damaged sketch of town hall and calmly replacing it with a drawing of some flowers. "I suppose I'll tell you pathetic fools. I come from a timeline in which the Gemini Project was a success. I'm the combination of both of you, and far better than either of you individually, so you'll just have to-"
At this, Steve burst out laughing for several seconds, before doubling over to catch his breath. Finally, he stood tall. "So you could interfere with the match because you were technically entered in it, right. But..." He grinned so widely he looked almost psychotic, and pushed up his hat so Roger could see his gleaming eyes. "You exited the boundaries of the arena multiple times, and, I should note, [b]attempted to throw the match!"
Roger was taken aback. "N-no, but... oh Lord... h-how is that possible?" He raised a slightly trembling hand to his cheek. "So obvious, and yet I overlooked it... and yet he, of all people-"
"And as such," Roger shouted, his voice positively dripping with smugness, "under section VII-B-8 of the official Vagueball rulebook, I challenge you and my current opponent to a game of three-man all-or-nothing no-teams knockout Vagueball! Winner gets the title and the trophy!"
The crowd went silent as The General screamed desperately. "No, no, no! You know all too well that three-man matches are strictly prohibited by law, Steve!"
Nessie wiped away her tears and looked him in the eye. "You have fun enforcing that, but the fact is, it's still in the rulebook. And if he plays by the rules, his powers still work. Right?" She winked at Steve, who smiled back and nodded as he hastily conjured a third net. "Now then, ninja-boy. Hit me with your best shot."
Roger growled, practically frothing at the mouth. "My employers would have ensured a lifetime of relaxation, and you idiots took them away! I despise you!" He charged the paladin-pirate, only to find himself brought to the ground by Steve's chains.
"Nuh-uh, pal. Time-out's not officially over yet." He pointed at The General and whistled. "The ball, if you please?" He sighed and complied; it's not as if this match was suddenly going to get any less ridiculous. As soon as he'd done so, the chains around Roger began to dissolve; but just as quickly, Nessie body-slammed him, pinning him to the ground. The ninja desperately attempted to wriggle free, but the lawmage took the opportunity to throw a barrage of extremely biased contracts at him; and, though the exertion left Steve barely able to stand, it also meant that Roger was effectively unable to move more than five feet in any direction, nor could he jump. For all intents and purposes, he was out of the match; and, stunned by how utterly he had screwed up, he went all but catatonic.
Steve quickly scored a point, unchallenged by Nessie; then, he happily tossed her the ball, and she did the same. They repeated this, then simply stared and laughed at Roger, who blinked back at them. "Huh? What's so hilarious?"
After a long pause, The General cleared his throat. "...The ninja has failed to act for ten seconds, and as such, both his opponents are at three points. He has lost, and whichever of them scores the tie-breaking point shall be the champion."
The original two contestants laughed even harder, while the ninja first screamed, then broke down sobbing; eventually, he had to be dragged away. Finally, Steve and Nessie looked each other in the eye, the latter breaking the silence. "He deserved to win, all things considered. Don't you agree?"
The lawmage nodded slowly. "Yes, I'd say so. Count of three?" After the pirate-paladin smiled and winked, the two shook hands once more. Finally, Steve stood tall. "One... two... three!" And in unison, the two shouted "I FORFEIT!"
The crowd was entirely silent; The General was reduced to incoherent sputtering, as the pair locked arms and traipsed up to his podium, Steve yanking the trophy away. "Seeing as the rules state not that the person forfeiting loses, but rather that their opponent wins... I suppose we'll be sharing this, won't we?" Nessie laughed and gave him a quick peck on the cheek, and the two left the arena to a tremendous chorus comprised half of hearty cheers, and half of furious booing. They didn't much care, really; they had what really mattered: friendship.
And also a shiny object and the knowledge that an asshole didn't have the same.
The crowd cheered as the man in the general's uniform stepped up to the microphone. "We're almost at the end here, folks! Facing off for the third year in a row, LET'S HEAR IT FOR OUR FINAL CONTESTANTS! In the blue corner, weighing in at one hundred forty eight pounds, STEEEEVE!"
The lawmage rolled his eyes and sauntered forward, lazily adjusting his conical hat. Inwardly, he was brimming with rage and determination, as well as more than a bit of anxiety, and he clutched his tome tightly; but, well-versed in keeping up appearances, he effortlessly presented a cool facade as he stepped into the hexagonal arena.
"And in the orange corner, at one hundred seventy three pounds, Nessie!" The cheers promptly got much louder as the young lady whipped her red hair back, laughing. She quickly ran up to the center line and, after tossing down a gauntlet, extended her now bare hand in greeting. Steve sighed, but responded with a firm handshake, as his old Master had always taught him to.
The General stepped out of the hexagon, still holding the microphone. "As always, the rules are streamlined for the finals! One round, no time limit! Hit the floor for ten seconds, you lose; first to three points wins!" At this, Nessie double-checked the straps on her armor before nodding cheerfully. "On your marks... get set... GO!"
Quickly, the girl unsheathed her cutlasses, while the lawmage shot up into the air and threw contracts at her. Effortlessly, Nessie shredded all but one, in which she agreed to keep within the inner boundaries if Steve would stop that stupid flying around garbage; this she grabbed out of the air, and it quickly burned up as Steve dropped back to the ground.
The two began circling each other, Steve's eyes burning with determination while Nessie simply grinned back. Occasionally, he'd launch a subpoena or she'd suddenly lunge, but they both knew what they were really doing: biding their time until the ball entered play.
After the standard 90 seconds passed, The General tossed the ball towards the center of the hexagon; but what was unexpected was that, as the two jumped for the ball, Nessie would be knocked to the ground by a sharpened paintbrush, allowing Steve to easily take possession.
Almost instantly, everyone's gaze turned to where the projectile had come from - just on the edge of the playing field, there stood a fellow clad in home-made ninja garb and armor made of sketchpads. The General was outraged. "YOU! I don't know who you are, but-"
The interloper quickly cut him off. "There shall be no interference, on the part of spectators, with the match. But, my friend, I think you'll find that has not occurred." He gave a slight bow, and Steve - irritated by the ninja's disruption of play - growled and cast a Punishment of Flagrant Violation upon him. But where normally, golden chains should have brought him down to the ground, they instead fell apart at the ninja's wrists; he gave a slight chuckle, and revealed the abnormal width of the links.
Both combatants were taken aback, even as Nessie dusted herself off. A loophole? But that rule was- They were unable to finish this thought, however, before Steve found himself charging towards the opposite edge of the playfield and leaping towards the net. The ninja shouted, "should the contestant with the ball fail to act for ten seconds, they shall forfeit a point! And I won't let that happen!"
Steve growled, and quickly tossed the ball down to Nessie. "Can't call that 'failure to act', friend." The pirate-paladin looked back and forth, unsure what to do; eventually, the ninja decided for her by tossing a smoke bomb at her feet; she leapt out of the way and towards the net on Steve's end, just managing to stop herself from stepping outside the smaller chalk hexagon.
If he's over there, I could make the shot... She hesitated a bit too long, though, and her opportunity was lost. Irrelevant, she decided; if she was to best her rival, it had to be fair or it wouldn't be any fun. She turned to the ninja, tossing the ball back to the lawmage. "Alright, you! Get ready for some smiting!" She whipped out her magic revolver and began firing at the interloper, who dodged without even one of his expertly-groomed hairs falling out of place, at which point he retaliated with a series of fireballs.
The General and the crowd were both getting flustered and yelling about Rule Four, but Steve silenced them by shouting back "Firearms against the other contestant, morons! Doesn't say anything about the ball or cheating assholes!" The ninja quickly countered that he had been proven not to be cheating per se, at which point the lawmage flipped him off with one hand and used the other to weave a cage of the finest print around him. Unfortunately, he had failed to account for Roger's art skills, and he quickly escaped by caricaturing the pair and claiming fair use.
"I've had enough of this!" the ninja shouted; and in the blink of an eye, just as Steve tossed the ball back to Nessie, he whipped out a harpoon gun and fired at the ball. Then, dashing towards the arena, he reeled the ball in so it met him just at the edge of the hexagon, at which point he leapt towards the lady's net and dunked.
There was quite a bit of murmuring before The General finally said, with considerable trepidation, "Uh... I have d-decided that shall count, by virtue of not wanting to be stabbed with a poison needle." A loud "ding!" emanated from the scoreboard, which now read "Nessie: 0 - Steve: 1"
Steve stared in outrage, muttering a string of curses and legalese; Nessie was furious enough to be on the verge of tears; and Roger just laughed and tossed the ball back to the man nominally running the show. "A wise call, fellow. And I must say-" He quickly dodged several sword slashes and a briefcase, before hopping outside the arena's outlines and laughing. "Come on, now. My employers and I don't have all day."
Nessie screamed at him. "You're trying to fix this match, aren't you, you piece of shit? Well you're going to cut it out this instant[/b!]" With a tremendous battle cry, she scraped one sword across another, shooting tremendous waves of holy energy at the ninja; but these his makeshift armor absorbed, much to everyone's shock. "H-how?.."
Roger chuckled again, tearing out a slightly damaged sketch of town hall and calmly replacing it with a drawing of some flowers. "I suppose I'll tell you pathetic fools. I come from a timeline in which the Gemini Project was a success. I'm the combination of both of you, and far better than either of you individually, so you'll just have to-"
At this, Steve burst out laughing for several seconds, before doubling over to catch his breath. Finally, he stood tall. "So you could interfere with the match because you were technically entered in it, right. But..." He grinned so widely he looked almost psychotic, and pushed up his hat so Roger could see his gleaming eyes. "You exited the boundaries of the arena multiple times, and, I should note, [b]attempted to throw the match!"
Roger was taken aback. "N-no, but... oh Lord... h-how is that possible?" He raised a slightly trembling hand to his cheek. "So obvious, and yet I overlooked it... and yet he, of all people-"
"And as such," Roger shouted, his voice positively dripping with smugness, "under section VII-B-8 of the official Vagueball rulebook, I challenge you and my current opponent to a game of three-man all-or-nothing no-teams knockout Vagueball! Winner gets the title and the trophy!"
The crowd went silent as The General screamed desperately. "No, no, no! You know all too well that three-man matches are strictly prohibited by law, Steve!"
Nessie wiped away her tears and looked him in the eye. "You have fun enforcing that, but the fact is, it's still in the rulebook. And if he plays by the rules, his powers still work. Right?" She winked at Steve, who smiled back and nodded as he hastily conjured a third net. "Now then, ninja-boy. Hit me with your best shot."
Roger growled, practically frothing at the mouth. "My employers would have ensured a lifetime of relaxation, and you idiots took them away! I despise you!" He charged the paladin-pirate, only to find himself brought to the ground by Steve's chains.
"Nuh-uh, pal. Time-out's not officially over yet." He pointed at The General and whistled. "The ball, if you please?" He sighed and complied; it's not as if this match was suddenly going to get any less ridiculous. As soon as he'd done so, the chains around Roger began to dissolve; but just as quickly, Nessie body-slammed him, pinning him to the ground. The ninja desperately attempted to wriggle free, but the lawmage took the opportunity to throw a barrage of extremely biased contracts at him; and, though the exertion left Steve barely able to stand, it also meant that Roger was effectively unable to move more than five feet in any direction, nor could he jump. For all intents and purposes, he was out of the match; and, stunned by how utterly he had screwed up, he went all but catatonic.
Steve quickly scored a point, unchallenged by Nessie; then, he happily tossed her the ball, and she did the same. They repeated this, then simply stared and laughed at Roger, who blinked back at them. "Huh? What's so hilarious?"
After a long pause, The General cleared his throat. "...The ninja has failed to act for ten seconds, and as such, both his opponents are at three points. He has lost, and whichever of them scores the tie-breaking point shall be the champion."
The original two contestants laughed even harder, while the ninja first screamed, then broke down sobbing; eventually, he had to be dragged away. Finally, Steve and Nessie looked each other in the eye, the latter breaking the silence. "He deserved to win, all things considered. Don't you agree?"
The lawmage nodded slowly. "Yes, I'd say so. Count of three?" After the pirate-paladin smiled and winked, the two shook hands once more. Finally, Steve stood tall. "One... two... three!" And in unison, the two shouted "I FORFEIT!"
The crowd was entirely silent; The General was reduced to incoherent sputtering, as the pair locked arms and traipsed up to his podium, Steve yanking the trophy away. "Seeing as the rules state not that the person forfeiting loses, but rather that their opponent wins... I suppose we'll be sharing this, won't we?" Nessie laughed and gave him a quick peck on the cheek, and the two left the arena to a tremendous chorus comprised half of hearty cheers, and half of furious booing. They didn't much care, really; they had what really mattered: friendship.
And also a shiny object and the knowledge that an asshole didn't have the same.
My story:
Show Content
Spoiler
The world had been ravaged by disease and war. In the wake of this devastation, an old military facility had been converted into the town of Forward Base.
It was a small town, but all towns were in this bleak new world. But Forward Base was probably the best-known, for one simple reason.
Tankball.
The base still had quite a bit of military hardware, and a bored populace had converted it into sporting equipment. And the Tankball Championship was the most popular major sporting event in the world, mostly because it was now the only one.
Every month, the Tankball Championship had ended in a tie between two great players: Steve the Lawmage and Nessie the Paladin-Pirate.
Steve's specialty was making use of the rules. Tankball was a complex game, after all, and most of the players didn't understand it fully. But Steve's magic granted him mastery over the law, and rules were a subset of that. He generally managed to win with only a few points by catching the other player on technicalities.
When he had first entered, critics complained he wasn't that good at the game, he was just good at abusing the rules. That talk had stopped after the championship match with Nessie.
It had become clear early in the match that his usual tactics wouldn't work; Nessie's instincts as a Paladin told her when she might be breaking the rules, and her Pirate training taught her how to make the most of opportunities. By halftime, the score was 14-8 in her favor.
But Steve was undeterred. The first half had taught him much about her playstyle.
In the second half, he revealed just how good he really was. He matched Nessie move for move, and surprised her more than a few times. The game ended in a 20-20 tie.
Ever since then, the championships had gone the same way: Steve and Nessie battled their way to the finals, and fought to a draw. It had gotten to the point where all the oddsmakers only bothered offering bets on who would win the consolation match for third place.
And so no one thought it odd when Roger the Ninja-Artist marched into town, swearing he'd be the one to dethrone the champions. He wasn't the first stranger to make that challenge, he wouldn't be the last.
Nobody even thought much of it when Roger demolished Lancifer Blang, last month's third-place champion, in his first match; the bookies grumbled, and the audience booed, but everyone figured it was a fluke, and even if it wasn't, Roger wouldn't get higher than third.
Everyone, that is, except Steve and Nessie. They were worried, and were discussing the matter over lunch.
"He scored on the triple-bounce rule," Steve muttered. "That's the rule I scored my first point on. And he scored it in exactly the same way! He's been studying me, I swear it!"
"Not just you, matey," Nessie noted. "He used me reverse double-cross gambit, too! That's one of me best moves."
"And he's good," Steve continued. "We've seen copycats before, but they've never fully understood our techniques. Why, many of our tricks remain puzzling even to each other, even after all these championship matches."
"Aye, ye be a tough nut to crack, it be true," Nessie acknowledged. "But this upstart landlubber's got a knack for our tricks. To say nothin' of his own!"
Steve nodded.
"I can't speak for his artistic taste, but he certainly knows how to use it in a match. That graffiti on Lancifer's tank was, without a doubt, the work of a true master."
"And it be totally legal, at that."
"Indeed. He's skilled, so skilled that only players at our level can see it. I fear he may even disrupt our rivalry - and that would be bad for our merchandising operations."
"So ye want him out of the way before then, aye?"
Steve smirked.
"This is why you're the only opponent worth my time, Nessie."
"Of course, ye realize, sabotage be against the rules. Ye wouldn't ask a paladin-pirate to break the rules, would ye?"
"Never. Merely to bend them."
They laughed, unaware that Roger was watching their whole conversation from the shadows.
Nessie and Steve had different approaches to sabotage. Nessie's method was to look for loopholes.
It was against the rules, for instance, to replace someone's tank fuel with sugar water, and Nessie had no plans to do any such thing. On the other hand, there was no rule against having a stern conversation with Seamus "Shameless" McCheaterson about the rules and being very specific about which rules he shouldn't break.
"McCheaterson, ye scurvy barnacle!" she shouted at him. "I'm amazed they still let ye play this game."
"I don't know what you're talking about, Miss Nessie," he said slyly. "I've never been caught cheating."
"Aye, because ye be a slippery eel. But I got me eye on ye! Ye'd best hope I don't catch ye switchin' anybody's fuel!"
"Why, Miss Nessie," McCheaterson said innocently. "I'd never do such a thing like that."
"Aye, ye would. Ye wouldn't even spare that newcomer, the Ninja Artist."
"Perish the thought, Miss Nessie! Even if I resorted to such distasteful tactics, I wouldn't want to ruin things for the boy. No, you have nothing to worry about."
"I'd best not!"
McCheaterson grinned as she walked off. She'd given him the most wonderful idea.
Steve, for his part, disliked loopholes. Where the rules were weak, his magic was as well. He prefered to play to his strengths.
That was why he sought to deal with Roger through disqualification. He scoured the rulebooks, looking for the perfect obscure illegal play.
"It has to be something even I wouldn't notice normally," he said to himself. "Otherwise, he's sure to catch on... aha!"
He smiled. Rule 1783, Section 4, Paragraph B. The Queen's Birthday clause.
Normally, it wouldn't apply today; Queen Lisa's birthday was last week. But that was nothing a quick revolution couldn't change. After all, he knew a little girl whose birthday was today, and what better gift than a Revolutionary Starter Kit?
By mid-afternoon, everything was ready. Steve sat down next to Nessie in the stands to watch Roger's match against Seamus "Shameless" McCheaterson.
"There be less of a crowd than an hour ago," Nessie noted.
"Oh, they're probably involved in the revolution. I look forward to the coming reign of Queen Julie."
"A revolution?" Nessie said, shocked. "Shiver me timbers, I missed it! Arr, if not for the championship, I'd be fightin' in and suppressin' that right now!"
"Now, now, I'm sure you can start a revolution to restore the throne afterwards," Steve said calmly. "Or claim it for yourself, I suppose. The important thing is that it will be the Queen's birthday."
Nessie stared at him, puzzled.
"The what?"
"Rule 1783, Section 4, Paragraph B: A player who scores more than eight points on the Queen's Birthday will be disqualified. There's no way he'll be prepared for that rule."
Nessie giggled.
"So we be covered if he gets more 'n eight points. Assumin' he gets that high with sugar water in his tank."
Steve smirked.
"So as long as McCheaterson doesn't go over - unlikely, given he's never gotten more than five points no matter how much he cheats - we've got nothing to worry about."
The game began. Roger's tank soon started making odd noises, but it still lurched forward onto the field. McCheaterson poked his head out of his tank and sneered.
"You sure you want to try me in that old clunker?"
Roger said nothing. He simply fired a ball at McCheaterson, striking him in the face.
"One point to Roger!" the ref shouted. The match had started.
It soon became clear just how incompetent McCheaterson was - the score was soon seven to zero, in Roger's favor.
Then Roger simply stopped his tank and got out. He began drawing on his own tank.
"What's he doing?" Steve asked, puzzled.
"Yar, I'll take a closer look," Nessie said, pulling out a telescope. She gasped.
"What, what is it?"
Wordlessly, Nessie handed the telescope to Steve. He glanced at Steve's drawing.
It was a picture of a familiar little girl. Underneath it, Roger had crudely written "LONG LIVE QUEEN JULIE".
"He knew about the revolution!" Steve said incredulously. "And the gas didn't even slow him down."
"That scoundrel!" Nessie declared. "Arr, we'll be needing to step up our game."
"Indeed you will," Roger said, suddenly appearing behind them. "I'm almost disappointed you couldn't come up with anything better, but the substantial prize money will make up for that."
"What are ye doin' here, ye filthy bilge-rat?" Nessie said, holding a rapier to his throat. Roger simply smirked.
"I thought it would only be polite to have some words with you before I humiliate you both. You see, you have no hope of defeating me."
"That's what Lancifer Blang said a month ago," Steve said, though he was more nervous than he'd care to admit. "Who are you to think you can do any better?"
Roger laughed.
"Who am I? Only the most perfect Tankball player that ever lived."
"That be a load of barnacle droppings, matey! No player's a match for me, except for Steve."
"And no player can navigate through the rules as well as I, save for Nessie!"
Roger laughed harder.
"You don't know how right you are," he said. "For you see, I am both of you. In my home universe, we created the technology to fuse two people into one, and used it to combine you two into the ultimate Tankball player. And now, I'm crossing into every other universe that has a Tankball championship, so I can claim the prize money from them all!"
Steve and Nessie gasped.
"Impossible!" Steve declared. "How do a law mage and a paladin-pirate combine into a money-grubbing ninja artist?"
"Don't ask me, technology's not my strong suit. Of course, if you really wanted me out of your way, I do have my price..."
"Never, ye filthy half-landlubber! I'll take ye on right here, right now!"
"Not before I do!" Steve declared.
Roger laughed.
"How about we make this a little more interesting? You both want to win the championship trophy, right? Outright win it, not just share it again. I know you do, I'm both of you."
They both silently glared at him.
"So here's my offer. Three-way match for the championship. Winner take all."
"But that... that's against the rules!" Steve gasped.
"Aye! They'd keelhaul us!"
"Not if Queen Julie authorized a rule change, I should think," Roger laughed. "I believe she owes you a favor."
Steve grumbled.
"She... might."
"Excellent. We'll arrange it for tomorrow - the audience will want to see some high scores, after all. That should be plenty of time for us to kick the other losers out of this competition." He paused. "Speaking of which, I've got a match to finish. If I stay here, McCheaterson might actually get a whole point."
"Ladies and gentlemen of Forward Base!" Queen Julie announced. "This month's championship, we'll be trying something a little different. A three-way match!"
A nervous rumbling went through the crowd.
"Our champions, Steve and Nessie, will be two of the competitors, of course. And the third will be Roger, who trounced all of his opponents!"
The trio wheeled their tanks out, Roger's still sputtering.
"He's actually still running on the sugar water?" Steve asked.
"Arr! He just be trying to show off now," Nessie muttered.
"Actually, it's a lot cheaper than regular tank fuel," Roger replied. "And it serves my purposes just as well. Ready to lose?"
"No," Steve said, smirking. "But I'm ready to win."
"Arr! I be even readier, matey!"
"Let the game begin!" Queen Julie declared.
The match began in earnest, as Roger fired two volleys of volleyballs at both his opponents. Steve drove his tank artfully around them, trying to use his magic to lure them out of bounds so Roger would claim a penalty. But they stayed within; Roger had foreseen that, after all.
Nessie, for her part, was simply firing back with footballs, knocking Roger's aside. This only increased the chaotic nature of the battlefield, but that was where Nessie was most comfortable.
It was another matter for Steve. Nessie's shots had made it far more difficult for him to dodge, and his tank was struck a dozen times before he regained his bearings. Worse, two-thirds of those strikes had been from Roger; the score was 8-4-0.
And then Steve realized what to do.
"Nessie!" he shouted. "Ignore him! This match is between you and me!"
"Arr! I be happy to crush ye any time, but this upstart needs a good whippin'!"
"No, don't you see?" Steve laughed, firing a barrage of water balloons at Nessie's tank. "What matters is the final score! And a point is a point, whether it's on you or on Roger!"
Nessie roared with laughter.
"Why, ye be right! And there be no rule against us hittin' each other, arr!"
They turned their tanks towards each other, firing rapidly and only pausing to knock Roger's shots aside. When the match finally ended, the score was 120-120-17, with Roger distantly trailing.
"Once again, the champions are Steve and Nessie!" Queen Julie declared, presenting them with the trophy. "Congratulations to both of you!"
Roger simply grumbled.
"I can't believe it!" he shouted. "I was a perfect match for both of your skills!"
"Yes, you might have beaten us if we were working together," Steve admitted. "But you were no match for the ferocity of our rivalry!"
"Arr, that be right!" Nessie declared. "When we set our sights against each other, there be nothin' we can't do!"
Roger simply stormed off.
"I guess I'll just have to win another universe's Tankball championship," he grumbled. "But I'll be back! That prize money will be mine next month!"
"Just you wait until next month, Nessie!" Steve declared, waving his fist. "I'll come out the winner!"
"Nay, Steve! I'll squash ye beneath me boots, yar!"
"Truly, their fierce commitment to utterly crushing each other in the Tankball arena is an inspiration to us all!" Queen Julie declared. "Oh, which reminds me, I have a counterrevolution to quash."
"Good luck!" Steve said. "If you see Ex-Queen Lisa, tell her it was nothing personal. I just wanted to give you a nice birthday present."
"Yarr! Wait fer me, Yer Highness! If there be one thing I enjoys more than a good rebellion, it be quashing a good rebellion!"
"You know, I've never actually taken part in one of these before. I've only instigated them. I should try it for once!"
"Yar! Ye'll be no match for a paladin-pirate on either side of a revolution, Steve!"
"We'll see about that!"
And so they ran off to the revolution, laughing heartily the whole way.
The world had been ravaged by disease and war. In the wake of this devastation, an old military facility had been converted into the town of Forward Base.
It was a small town, but all towns were in this bleak new world. But Forward Base was probably the best-known, for one simple reason.
Tankball.
The base still had quite a bit of military hardware, and a bored populace had converted it into sporting equipment. And the Tankball Championship was the most popular major sporting event in the world, mostly because it was now the only one.
Every month, the Tankball Championship had ended in a tie between two great players: Steve the Lawmage and Nessie the Paladin-Pirate.
Steve's specialty was making use of the rules. Tankball was a complex game, after all, and most of the players didn't understand it fully. But Steve's magic granted him mastery over the law, and rules were a subset of that. He generally managed to win with only a few points by catching the other player on technicalities.
When he had first entered, critics complained he wasn't that good at the game, he was just good at abusing the rules. That talk had stopped after the championship match with Nessie.
It had become clear early in the match that his usual tactics wouldn't work; Nessie's instincts as a Paladin told her when she might be breaking the rules, and her Pirate training taught her how to make the most of opportunities. By halftime, the score was 14-8 in her favor.
But Steve was undeterred. The first half had taught him much about her playstyle.
In the second half, he revealed just how good he really was. He matched Nessie move for move, and surprised her more than a few times. The game ended in a 20-20 tie.
Ever since then, the championships had gone the same way: Steve and Nessie battled their way to the finals, and fought to a draw. It had gotten to the point where all the oddsmakers only bothered offering bets on who would win the consolation match for third place.
And so no one thought it odd when Roger the Ninja-Artist marched into town, swearing he'd be the one to dethrone the champions. He wasn't the first stranger to make that challenge, he wouldn't be the last.
Nobody even thought much of it when Roger demolished Lancifer Blang, last month's third-place champion, in his first match; the bookies grumbled, and the audience booed, but everyone figured it was a fluke, and even if it wasn't, Roger wouldn't get higher than third.
Everyone, that is, except Steve and Nessie. They were worried, and were discussing the matter over lunch.
"He scored on the triple-bounce rule," Steve muttered. "That's the rule I scored my first point on. And he scored it in exactly the same way! He's been studying me, I swear it!"
"Not just you, matey," Nessie noted. "He used me reverse double-cross gambit, too! That's one of me best moves."
"And he's good," Steve continued. "We've seen copycats before, but they've never fully understood our techniques. Why, many of our tricks remain puzzling even to each other, even after all these championship matches."
"Aye, ye be a tough nut to crack, it be true," Nessie acknowledged. "But this upstart landlubber's got a knack for our tricks. To say nothin' of his own!"
Steve nodded.
"I can't speak for his artistic taste, but he certainly knows how to use it in a match. That graffiti on Lancifer's tank was, without a doubt, the work of a true master."
"And it be totally legal, at that."
"Indeed. He's skilled, so skilled that only players at our level can see it. I fear he may even disrupt our rivalry - and that would be bad for our merchandising operations."
"So ye want him out of the way before then, aye?"
Steve smirked.
"This is why you're the only opponent worth my time, Nessie."
"Of course, ye realize, sabotage be against the rules. Ye wouldn't ask a paladin-pirate to break the rules, would ye?"
"Never. Merely to bend them."
They laughed, unaware that Roger was watching their whole conversation from the shadows.
Nessie and Steve had different approaches to sabotage. Nessie's method was to look for loopholes.
It was against the rules, for instance, to replace someone's tank fuel with sugar water, and Nessie had no plans to do any such thing. On the other hand, there was no rule against having a stern conversation with Seamus "Shameless" McCheaterson about the rules and being very specific about which rules he shouldn't break.
"McCheaterson, ye scurvy barnacle!" she shouted at him. "I'm amazed they still let ye play this game."
"I don't know what you're talking about, Miss Nessie," he said slyly. "I've never been caught cheating."
"Aye, because ye be a slippery eel. But I got me eye on ye! Ye'd best hope I don't catch ye switchin' anybody's fuel!"
"Why, Miss Nessie," McCheaterson said innocently. "I'd never do such a thing like that."
"Aye, ye would. Ye wouldn't even spare that newcomer, the Ninja Artist."
"Perish the thought, Miss Nessie! Even if I resorted to such distasteful tactics, I wouldn't want to ruin things for the boy. No, you have nothing to worry about."
"I'd best not!"
McCheaterson grinned as she walked off. She'd given him the most wonderful idea.
Steve, for his part, disliked loopholes. Where the rules were weak, his magic was as well. He prefered to play to his strengths.
That was why he sought to deal with Roger through disqualification. He scoured the rulebooks, looking for the perfect obscure illegal play.
"It has to be something even I wouldn't notice normally," he said to himself. "Otherwise, he's sure to catch on... aha!"
He smiled. Rule 1783, Section 4, Paragraph B. The Queen's Birthday clause.
Normally, it wouldn't apply today; Queen Lisa's birthday was last week. But that was nothing a quick revolution couldn't change. After all, he knew a little girl whose birthday was today, and what better gift than a Revolutionary Starter Kit?
By mid-afternoon, everything was ready. Steve sat down next to Nessie in the stands to watch Roger's match against Seamus "Shameless" McCheaterson.
"There be less of a crowd than an hour ago," Nessie noted.
"Oh, they're probably involved in the revolution. I look forward to the coming reign of Queen Julie."
"A revolution?" Nessie said, shocked. "Shiver me timbers, I missed it! Arr, if not for the championship, I'd be fightin' in and suppressin' that right now!"
"Now, now, I'm sure you can start a revolution to restore the throne afterwards," Steve said calmly. "Or claim it for yourself, I suppose. The important thing is that it will be the Queen's birthday."
Nessie stared at him, puzzled.
"The what?"
"Rule 1783, Section 4, Paragraph B: A player who scores more than eight points on the Queen's Birthday will be disqualified. There's no way he'll be prepared for that rule."
Nessie giggled.
"So we be covered if he gets more 'n eight points. Assumin' he gets that high with sugar water in his tank."
Steve smirked.
"So as long as McCheaterson doesn't go over - unlikely, given he's never gotten more than five points no matter how much he cheats - we've got nothing to worry about."
The game began. Roger's tank soon started making odd noises, but it still lurched forward onto the field. McCheaterson poked his head out of his tank and sneered.
"You sure you want to try me in that old clunker?"
Roger said nothing. He simply fired a ball at McCheaterson, striking him in the face.
"One point to Roger!" the ref shouted. The match had started.
It soon became clear just how incompetent McCheaterson was - the score was soon seven to zero, in Roger's favor.
Then Roger simply stopped his tank and got out. He began drawing on his own tank.
"What's he doing?" Steve asked, puzzled.
"Yar, I'll take a closer look," Nessie said, pulling out a telescope. She gasped.
"What, what is it?"
Wordlessly, Nessie handed the telescope to Steve. He glanced at Steve's drawing.
It was a picture of a familiar little girl. Underneath it, Roger had crudely written "LONG LIVE QUEEN JULIE".
"He knew about the revolution!" Steve said incredulously. "And the gas didn't even slow him down."
"That scoundrel!" Nessie declared. "Arr, we'll be needing to step up our game."
"Indeed you will," Roger said, suddenly appearing behind them. "I'm almost disappointed you couldn't come up with anything better, but the substantial prize money will make up for that."
"What are ye doin' here, ye filthy bilge-rat?" Nessie said, holding a rapier to his throat. Roger simply smirked.
"I thought it would only be polite to have some words with you before I humiliate you both. You see, you have no hope of defeating me."
"That's what Lancifer Blang said a month ago," Steve said, though he was more nervous than he'd care to admit. "Who are you to think you can do any better?"
Roger laughed.
"Who am I? Only the most perfect Tankball player that ever lived."
"That be a load of barnacle droppings, matey! No player's a match for me, except for Steve."
"And no player can navigate through the rules as well as I, save for Nessie!"
Roger laughed harder.
"You don't know how right you are," he said. "For you see, I am both of you. In my home universe, we created the technology to fuse two people into one, and used it to combine you two into the ultimate Tankball player. And now, I'm crossing into every other universe that has a Tankball championship, so I can claim the prize money from them all!"
Steve and Nessie gasped.
"Impossible!" Steve declared. "How do a law mage and a paladin-pirate combine into a money-grubbing ninja artist?"
"Don't ask me, technology's not my strong suit. Of course, if you really wanted me out of your way, I do have my price..."
"Never, ye filthy half-landlubber! I'll take ye on right here, right now!"
"Not before I do!" Steve declared.
Roger laughed.
"How about we make this a little more interesting? You both want to win the championship trophy, right? Outright win it, not just share it again. I know you do, I'm both of you."
They both silently glared at him.
"So here's my offer. Three-way match for the championship. Winner take all."
"But that... that's against the rules!" Steve gasped.
"Aye! They'd keelhaul us!"
"Not if Queen Julie authorized a rule change, I should think," Roger laughed. "I believe she owes you a favor."
Steve grumbled.
"She... might."
"Excellent. We'll arrange it for tomorrow - the audience will want to see some high scores, after all. That should be plenty of time for us to kick the other losers out of this competition." He paused. "Speaking of which, I've got a match to finish. If I stay here, McCheaterson might actually get a whole point."
"Ladies and gentlemen of Forward Base!" Queen Julie announced. "This month's championship, we'll be trying something a little different. A three-way match!"
A nervous rumbling went through the crowd.
"Our champions, Steve and Nessie, will be two of the competitors, of course. And the third will be Roger, who trounced all of his opponents!"
The trio wheeled their tanks out, Roger's still sputtering.
"He's actually still running on the sugar water?" Steve asked.
"Arr! He just be trying to show off now," Nessie muttered.
"Actually, it's a lot cheaper than regular tank fuel," Roger replied. "And it serves my purposes just as well. Ready to lose?"
"No," Steve said, smirking. "But I'm ready to win."
"Arr! I be even readier, matey!"
"Let the game begin!" Queen Julie declared.
The match began in earnest, as Roger fired two volleys of volleyballs at both his opponents. Steve drove his tank artfully around them, trying to use his magic to lure them out of bounds so Roger would claim a penalty. But they stayed within; Roger had foreseen that, after all.
Nessie, for her part, was simply firing back with footballs, knocking Roger's aside. This only increased the chaotic nature of the battlefield, but that was where Nessie was most comfortable.
It was another matter for Steve. Nessie's shots had made it far more difficult for him to dodge, and his tank was struck a dozen times before he regained his bearings. Worse, two-thirds of those strikes had been from Roger; the score was 8-4-0.
And then Steve realized what to do.
"Nessie!" he shouted. "Ignore him! This match is between you and me!"
"Arr! I be happy to crush ye any time, but this upstart needs a good whippin'!"
"No, don't you see?" Steve laughed, firing a barrage of water balloons at Nessie's tank. "What matters is the final score! And a point is a point, whether it's on you or on Roger!"
Nessie roared with laughter.
"Why, ye be right! And there be no rule against us hittin' each other, arr!"
They turned their tanks towards each other, firing rapidly and only pausing to knock Roger's shots aside. When the match finally ended, the score was 120-120-17, with Roger distantly trailing.
"Once again, the champions are Steve and Nessie!" Queen Julie declared, presenting them with the trophy. "Congratulations to both of you!"
Roger simply grumbled.
"I can't believe it!" he shouted. "I was a perfect match for both of your skills!"
"Yes, you might have beaten us if we were working together," Steve admitted. "But you were no match for the ferocity of our rivalry!"
"Arr, that be right!" Nessie declared. "When we set our sights against each other, there be nothin' we can't do!"
Roger simply stormed off.
"I guess I'll just have to win another universe's Tankball championship," he grumbled. "But I'll be back! That prize money will be mine next month!"
"Just you wait until next month, Nessie!" Steve declared, waving his fist. "I'll come out the winner!"
"Nay, Steve! I'll squash ye beneath me boots, yar!"
"Truly, their fierce commitment to utterly crushing each other in the Tankball arena is an inspiration to us all!" Queen Julie declared. "Oh, which reminds me, I have a counterrevolution to quash."
"Good luck!" Steve said. "If you see Ex-Queen Lisa, tell her it was nothing personal. I just wanted to give you a nice birthday present."
"Yarr! Wait fer me, Yer Highness! If there be one thing I enjoys more than a good rebellion, it be quashing a good rebellion!"
"You know, I've never actually taken part in one of these before. I've only instigated them. I should try it for once!"
"Yar! Ye'll be no match for a paladin-pirate on either side of a revolution, Steve!"
"We'll see about that!"
And so they ran off to the revolution, laughing heartily the whole way.