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Chef Torte vs Gloomtail vs Eerie

Announcer Referee <-Prev--Next->

***

Count Bleck: ...and thusly, summarized Count Bleck, it is very difficult to continually close and open holes into separate dimensions at a whim to recover lost souls. Are the fools done with their dimension hopping?

Bandit: I liked it when my tongue tasted like purple...

Larry: No more cereal, King Dad, I'll get a toothache...

Roy: ... So uh, they gonna stay like that?

Count Bleck: Insanity is preferable to knowing the lines between the infinite dimensions. In Count Bleck's experience, a crack to the head solves it rather swiftly. To demonstrate...

THWACK!

Larry: Ow! JEEZ man, that hurt!

Bandit: T-there were so many things I couldn't steal inside there! It was... terrible...

Count Bleck: Hmph, such narrow-minded fools. The hole in space-time should disappear shortly, for now, Count Bleck has placed a highly stable cover over it.

Roy: Whelp, now that the crisis of multi-dimensional proportions has been finished, time for Roy's Sports Hall!

Bandit: Whazzit? Oh, right, another chance to steal the spotlight, yeah! In the Green Corner, we have the master of exceptionally dumb-looking mustaches and cake decorating, Chef Torte!

Chef Torte: Zere are no flaws to a plan made by moi. Zis battle is but a mere recipie to victory.

Bandit: In the Yellow Corner, we have the third-laziest recoloring job in the second Paper Mario game, Gloomtail!

Gloomtail: Kneel before Gloomtail, and I might choose to spare your lives.

Eerie: Um... Will you be scared by my lack of kneeling if I say I don't have legs?

Gloomtail: I demand you grow legs for the express purpose of kneeling before me. Until then, such insolence shall not be tolerated.

Eerie: Oh...

Bandit: And in the Blue Corner is some dumb ghost.

Eerie: Is my stupidity scary, at leeeeaaast?

Bandit: No. It's just stupid.

Eerie: Oh...

Bandit: And, my partner in... er... failing mental capacity, Larry with his prediction!

Larry: I'm not sure if two weeks going crazy did anything to me, but Gloomtail is the cute one people like to hug, right?

Bandit: ... Sure.

Larry: Then him. His appeal must be massive.

Gloomtail: On many accounts, this mortal is both incorrect and yet so right. Truly his is a pitiable existence.

Roy: Eh, I think of it as more of a convenient, subservient existence. At least for me, y'know? Pokey!

Pokey: Fight.

DING! DING! DING!

Chef Torte: I vill begin vith ZIS, dragon of giant nostrils! Taste moi PEPPER SPRAY RAY!

Shiiing!

Gloomtail: ... Oh no, I have severe nasal congestion. Whatever will I do?

Chef Torte: Vhat? Vith nostrils of zat size, you should be BURNING vith ze pain of a million enflamed allergies! It ist IMPOSSIBLE to resist such brilliant tactics!

Gloomtail: Well I just chose not to get hurt by the attack is all. Nothing personal, I just am not in the mood to be beaten by anything silly.

Eerie: Boo!

Gloomtail: ACHOOOOO!

FWOOSH!

Chef Torte: Mon dieu!

Eerie: Aaaaahhhhhhh!

Bandit: And a startling sneak attack from Eerie gets Gloomtail to sneeze up all that power Chef Torte sprayed! Seems that the chef's plan was... something to sneeze at.

YEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

Roy: ... Where did that overly-dramatic "yeah" come from? And where did you get those sunglasses from?

Bandit: When you're THAT good, it just comes naturally.

Roy: Sunglasses-spawning powers... Right.

Bandit: Also I took yours.

Roy: ... You're lucky I'm so cool that I wear a pair of sunglasses underneath my sunglasses.

Eerie: Okay, that worked really well! Now time t-

Pokey: No.

Eerie: What?

Pokey: Ring-out. Eerie, out.

Eerie: Oh...

Bandit: And, in the most pathetic way possible, Eerie's own attack caused him to get blown right out of the ring! I guess weighing a whopping total of zero pounds does that to a ghost!

Gloomtail: Are we quite finished? I'm beginning to tire of these charade-

SHOOM!

Gloomtail: Ah. There you are.

Chef Torte: D-do not just RESPOND to ze laziar beams of ze PAN OF PERIL!

Gloomtail: Perhaps if you weren't so outrageously weak, I would.

STOMP!

Chef Torte: A-agh!

STOMP! STOMPSTOMP!

Chef Torte: D-desist! Take ze PAN O-

STOMP!

Chef Torte: ZE PA-

STOMP!

Chef Torte: Z-

STOMP!

Chef Torte: LET MOI ANNOUNCE ZE ATTACKS!

Gloomtail: Nah, you talk too much.

STOMP!

Bandit: Without the ability to be as large of a ham as possible, Chef Torte is powerless!

Roy: Got to give him credit, not being willing to attack without announcing that he is attacking is A-grade evil there. A-grade.

Larry: Or, y'know, just silly.

Chef Torte: ... Ah, forget it. FLIPPING A PAN UPRIGHT!

Poink!

Gloomtail: ... Argh.

Chef Torte: Oh, is ze large dragon hurt now? Is he going to cry?

Bandit: The chef's got the upper hand now, as one of the spikes from his superpowered frying pan got stuck in Gloomtail's foot! The chef's now holding on by the handle!

Gloomtail: There's nothing stopping me from merely stomping you again.

Chef Torte: HYPEIR PLASMA CANNON!

Gloomtail: ... Of course you wouldn't gloat no- ARGH!

FWOOM!

Bandit: Woah, that was a MASSIVE laser! I can't wait to get my hands on that frying pan, reverse engineer it, and turn it into something more fitting for a Bandit, like a coin that shoots lasers!

Larry: Your mind... works in strange ways.

Bandit: That have gotten me quite rich, thank you. Chef Torte seems to have detached from Gloomtail's foot now.

Gloomtail: This world would not be worth dominating had it no surprises. Very well... I shall show you what it means to face a god.

CRACK-OW!

Chef Torte: BAGIDYBLAGIDYBLAGIDYBLAGIDY- A-argh!

Gloomtail: Lightning special effects. Come with being impossibly powerful, it's a waste of breath to explain.

Chef Torte: S-special effects? Zat vas REAL lightning zere!

Gloomtail: In my presence, all becomes possible for me. Fortunately your amusing electrocution has given me time to unleash Megabreath.

Chef Torte: M-mon dieu! Vait... VAT'S ZAT BEHIND YOU?!

Gloomtail: You have got to be jo-

Eerie: BOO!

MEGABREATH!

Eerie: Hey guys, I made him waste his powerful attack and shoot it into the air! Can I be back in the season again?

Pokey: No.

Gloomtail: NO.

Chef Torte: Zough it provided moi ze vindow of opportunity necessary, no.

Bandit: Nope.

Roy: Ain't happenin'

Larry: Definitely not.

Eerie: Oh...

Roy: Now GET OUT OF MY SPORTS HALL! Dang fighters thinkin' they can hang around after they get ring-outs...

Eerie: Oh... okay.

Poof!

Gloomtail: A mere setback, considering the situation! Soon, my toxic breath shall rain down upon this arena, and its strength shall be so great that the toxic vapors shall overcome your pathetic Koopa body, ravaging it from the inside! The ghost's distraction merely delayed the inevitable!

Chef Torte: Zat... vill not happen.

KA-PAN!

Gloomtail: And even when you have gotten me this riled up, you still are absolutely pathetic when it comes to actual attacks.

Chef Torte: Zis... ist an OUTRAGE! I vill use ze BUTCHER'S KNIFE OF CUTTING THINGS REALLY VELL!

Bandit: Oh, well now he's just making names up as he goes.

KA-CUT!

Gloomtail: Ha, it is as if an insect brushed against me. Care to try again? Or are you finding it hard enough to breathe as is?

Chef Torte: Y... you...

Bandit: The chef's looking a little blue. I'm sure glad we have ventilation up here in the booth, right guys?

Roy: You said it. I'd hate to be the audience!

Larry: What? I mean, all I see are a bunch of Boos, they shouldn't be affected by the g... Oh.

Chef Torte: *gasp, pant* Hypeir... plasma...

Gloomtail: Ha, you aren't even aiming for me at this point!

Chef Torte: ... CANNOOOON!

SHOOM!

Gloomtail: Futile. Absolu-

TEAR! RUMBLERUMBLERUBMLE! FWOOOOOSH!

Count Bleck: Count Bleck spent a very long time putting a cover on that rip in space-time. Count Bleck does not appreciate fools taking apart the fabric of reality.

Roy: Kinda looked like cardboard ta me.

Count Bleck: Count Bleck does not have much time to find reliable covers for his tears in space-time.

Gloomtail: THIS... ISN'T... OVEEERRRRRRRRR!

SHOOM! Poof!

Count Bleck: ... And now Count Bleck's holes in space-time are disappearing randomly after massive dragons are sucked in. This does not bode well for Count Bleck, not at all’, it will have to be looked at... by Count Bleck!

Bandit: I... I don't know how he figured that out, but somehow, Chef Torte has done the impossible and sucked Gloomtail into an alternate dimension!

Pokey: Gloomtail, ring-out. Chef Torte, winner!

Chef Torte: I... am ze... greate-

Plop!

Pokey: Poison doesn't hurt me.

Larry: Well that was, um... something. So, considering the electric chair is outside this booth and the entire Hall is covered in deadly gas, I think we can just end transmission safely this week!

Roy: ...

CRASH!

Bandit: YOU FOOL! YOU CAN'T JUST SHATTER THE GLASS TO THE BOX! NOW WE'LL GET IT, TOO!

Roy: Well it's a good thing I have this personal gas mask here. I wouldn't want to be you, though.

Count Bleck: Count Bleck is so out of here.

Larry: *gasp* End... *wheeze* transmission...