“Ladies and gentiles! The summer season is here and you know
what that means: beautiful sunshine, beautiful women, and beautiful
ass-beatings! If you’re ready to watch Zoku and Jeeta beat the living hell out
of each other, let me hear you scream!” The bombastic announcer got just what
he wanted from the crowd at Takanori
Beach: loud, energetic,
beastly cheers from a pumped up audience.
While Zoku stood in one corner of the ring egging on the
crowd with waves of his arms and a shit-eating grin, Jeeta stood in the
opposite corner with his arms folded and a gorgon death stare locked on his
opponent. I will end you once and for
all, Karrottop. Jeeta refused to call Zoku by his government name. It was a
matter of pride in the Sojo race, which both Zoku and Jeeta belonged to. That
was all they had in common that day, spiky hair and monkey tails be damned.
Jeeta’s jaw tightened in annoyance not only with Zoku’s
pandering to the crowd, but also the fact that the announcer in an obnoxious
yellow suit refused to shut the hell up as he named off various sponsors for
this fight. One of the products was for a pesticide spray that targeted
cockroaches, which seemed appropriate considering Jeeta’s thoughts on the
announcer. Another product was for Marlboro Cigarettes, though Jeeta considered
the announcer’s voice to be more toxic than anything a tobacco company could
produce. And the other one was…
“Shut the fuck up and get on with it!” shouted Jeeta, firing
a laser beam from his fingertip at the microphone and shattering it into
pieces. The audience gasped in horror while the announcer nearly wet himself as
he wiggled his hand in pain.
Only then did Zoku get serious about this fight. He
unleashed a mile long stare straight into Jeeta’s soul, though the latter
responded with a sadistic smile rather than quaking in his boots. As soon as
the announcer high-tailed it out of there, the two warriors met in the center
of the stone ring and continued staring daggers into each other’s eyes. Zoku
cracked his neck on both sides while Jeeta popped his knuckles and wrists even
louder.
The audience remained stunned in silence after the
microphone was destroyed, but instantly picked back up into high gear once the
battle music played over the surround-sound speakers: a heavy metal tune called
“X” by HELLYEAH.
That was the warriors’ cue to get in their fighting stances
and surround themselves in glowing gold aura. Zoku’s spiked purple hair and
green martial arts gi flapped and fluttered in the energy-induced wind while
Jeeta’s green spiky hair did the same. Jeeta’s purple Sojo armor clung tightly
to him as it was his last line of defense against this suddenly serious-looking
fighter standing across from him. Now the audience would see who the real
badass was.
When HELLYEAH’s lead singer Chad Gray burst into a fit of
heavy metal screams, that served as a cue for Zoku and Jeeta to stop powering
up and commence the ass-beatings. Before the first punch was thrown, an
inflatable beach ball bounced off of Zoku’s face and he was back to his goofy
smiling self.
Jeeta on the other hand expressed his rage with an ursine
growl and a hard stomp of the beach ball, popping it like he wished he could
have popped Zoku’s dome right at that instance. As the audience erupted into
boos, Jeeta pointed at them and shouted, “If I see one more fucking beach ball
in that crowd, someone’s getting my boot jammed in their fart box!” Instead of
being intimidated, the crowd and Zoku laughed their asses off. The audience
even chanted “Fart Box!” over and over again.
“Come on, Jeeta, these guys are having a good time. They
paid good money for this. They can do whatever they want!” said Zoku, trying to
suppress his laughter to make a point.
“If they want to play with their balls so badly, they can do
it behind closed doors like every other pervert out there!” belted Jeeta,
earning another round of laughter from the immature crowd. “What the hell are
you sacks of protoplasm laughing at now?!”
“Dude, we literally go hunting for Dragon Nuts to make a
wish. You don’t get to make testicle jokes.” Zoku couldn’t contain his laughter
anymore. He even doubled over and slapped his knees for extra effect. As if
Jeeta didn’t have enough reasons to tighten his jaw again, more beach balls
were being bounced around within the crowd. “Guys, over here!” Sure enough, one
of the audience members bounced a beach ball Zoku’s way and he lightly spiked
it back at them.
Jeeta held his head in his hands and attempted to squeeze
the headache out like a glob of toothpaste. This sacred fighting tournament had
been reduced to childish antics and easy distractions. This was supposed to be
the culmination of a heated rivalry between two badass warriors. Instead, they
were just “having a good time”. One of the beach balls struck Jeeta in the back
of the head and his muscles tightened once more.
“That’s it! I’ve had it with you pieces of shit!” The
audience and Zoku watched in awe as Jeeta got into his fighting stance again
and weaved golden energy around himself, this time his hair changing colors
from green to gold and his spikes standing up straighter. He had gone full
Super Sojo and could end this fight with a massive energy blast to his naïve
opponent. All of this nonsense could be over in a heartbeat. But then another
beach ball bounced off of Jeeta’s head.
Rather than choosing to end this fight, Jeeta flew around
the arena and punched the shit out of every beach ball in sight, popping them
louder than hand grenades. Children cried. The elderly were on the verge of
suffering heart attacks. Mothers and fathers hugged each other and their
children for fear Jeeta would commit genocide upon the entire human race. Beach
balls exploded left and right until the entire arena was void of distractions.
Jeeta had the fearful attention of everyone in sight, including Zoku, who
quivered in his green karate trousers.
Slowly Jeeta stalked his opponent, his golden energy glowing
brighter and brighter with every angry step taken. Jeeta also formed a
monstrous grin as he pantomimed a choke hold with his gloved hands. This would
have been sweet comeuppance for a decade-long rivalry. The only way this could
have been a more satisfying conclusion was if Zoku shit his pants, which unlike
some members of the crowd, he didn’t do…yet. And then…
“I’m sorry, Jeeta,” said the announcer through a new
microphone. “The rules clearly state that once you’ve exited the ring, the
match is over. This isn’t wrestling and you don’t get a ten count. Therefore,
the winner of this match as a result of ring-out: Zoku!”
The crowd erupted into cheers while Zoku pranced and leapt
in the air like his disqualification victory was the greatest one he racked up.
Jeeta’s jaw went from tensing up to being on the floor. His eyes widened at his
own stupidity. All it took for him to lose this match was being distracted by a
few beach balls.
As Zoku was being presented with a bronze trophy by some
bikini clad ladies, Jeeta once again held everyone’s fearful attention by
shouting, “This is bullshit!” He breathed in a raspy voice while tense silence
hung over the sandy arena. “This whole thing was a sham from the beginning!”
Pointing an accusatory finger at Zoku, Jeeta said, “You put those beach balls
there on purpose just so you can get an easy victory! How much did you pay
those jackasses, anyways? A hundred? A thousand? A hundred thousand?”
Zoku chuckled nervously and scratched the back of his head.
“More like five hundred thousand.” Jeeta’s jaw was on the floor once again.
“Yeah, I kind of had to teach you a lesson there, buddy.”
“A lesson?! There’s not a scratch on me! You didn’t do
anything! You just sat there and played with your ball…I mean…you just fooled
around throughout the whole match!”
“Exactly! And you took the bait, Jeeta,” said Zoku more
confidently with his arms folded. “Whenever we go hunting for Dragon Nuts
together, you’re always getting distracted by our opponents taunting you. You
don’t know how to control your temper, so it costs us every time. We could have
wished for anything we wanted if we had those Dragon Nuts. But somebody else took
them away because you were too busy choking on your pride. What would you have
wished for anyways? Immortality? A higher power level? A cure for your wife’s
cancer?”
The crowd gasped while Jeeta’s golden energy dissipated and
his head hung low. Even his spiky hair stopped flapping and returned to its
normal green color.
“That’s right, Jeeta, you should be ashamed! You let
everyone down at your own expense! It’s sad I had to go through all of this
just to teach you that. I would rather you learn this on your own, but you’re
too thick-headed!”
The crowd chanted Zoku’s name while the lonely Jeeta let out
a sigh, his pride and his ego deflated by words that have never been truer. He
had to learn his lesson. He had to turn a new leaf. He couldn’t let it go any
longer. But no…He powered up yet again and sent the crowd into a terrified
hissyfit. “I’m going to kill you anyways, Karrottop!”
That didn’t happen. A beach ball bounced off of Jeeta’s head
and he turned around to pop it. But the minute he bent over, Zoku rushed up and
kicked him in the ass, sending him flying through the air. Zoku teleported and
double axe handled Jeeta in the back, kneed him in the stomach, and punched the
shit out of him until Jeeta’s body launched into the sand like a lawn dart, his
legs sticking out and kicking frantically.
“Get me out of here!” shouted Jeeta with a mouthful of sand.
“Sorry, Jeeta…I can’t help you anymore. You couldn’t even
help yourself. You fell for the same trick over and over again and didn’t learn
anything. Now I’m fucking the porn stars and you’re getting the crabs!”
The audience laughed as crabs came up to Jeeta and pinched
his legs, causing the prideful Sojo to scream and yelp more painfully than when
Zoku was pounding him. The only reason the crabs left Jeeta alone was because
the tide came pouring in, adding some gurgles and bubbles to his already
muffled dialogue. Jeeta did manage to get one piece of coherent dialogue out
before he was declared the ultimate loser: “I FUCKING HATE BEACH BALLS!”
