| Aug. 10th, 2007 05:05 pm Friday Night Fights Round 8: Uppercut Tonight’s Main Event:
Holly “Catwoman II” Robinson
versus
Blitzkrieg
Is that Blitzkrieg II or even III? There was Baron Blitzkrieg, maybe that’s who I’m thinking of. Was there a Marvel villain named Blitzkrieg? Almost certainly --enough of this foolishness! Fight!
We join our match already in progress. Round one apparently did not go in Holly’s favor. She waves off the ten count and gets up like a champ.
From the Friday Night Fights Officiates Rulebook, “On Chairs: if the Ref didn’t see it, it didn’t happen.”
Ted Grant: Teaching Girls How To Beat You Within an Inch of Your Life Since 1942
And Stay Down!
Catwoman v2#66 written by Will Pfeiffer, illustrated by David and Alvaro Lopez
Clear all bets through Bahlactus.
Heavyweight Bout
The Incredible Hulk
versus
Doomsday
Most people know the Hulk to some extent or another. Mild mannered super-genius, Bruce Banner, attempts to save Rick Jones’ life from being blowed-up by a gamma bomb. Instead he soaks up all the rads and becomes Jekyll and Hyde on methamphetamines. The angrier he gets, the stronger –and sometimes stupider- he becomes. Hulk smash, and all that. Depending on who is writing him and what recent events have taken place, Hulk and Banner are either completely different entities (with Hulk being Bruce’s ill-expressed Id) or Hulk just being super-Banner with a heart of gold.
The more I read about Doomsday, the more redonkulous he becomes. Basically he’s the pwn to end all pwns. Some prehistoric scientist dropped a baby on Krypton hundreds of millions of years ago. Every time the untamed wildlife killed the baby, he collected the remaining DNA; clone the baby; and do it again. Who was funding this guy? We can’t get unfettered stem cell grants, but this space-dick can just bounce babies off of Kryptonian dinosaurs for kicks? Through the wonders of soft-science, this cyclical torture eventually creates the ultimate killing machine in a manner that doesn’t even remotely resemble Darwin’s Law. This ultimate killing machine wipes Krypton clean, kills the misunderstood science-douche, and proceeds to murder its way across the universe, “knowing only hatred”. Grrr. Argh. Until it finally lands in Superman’s back yard. Whatever.
I love comics, but sometimes there are things that make even my suspension of disbelief say, “Fuckin’ really?” When part of his character article –without humor—reads “like Lobo”, you know it’s bad.
The Hulk is a force of nature, so much so that when Ultimate Hulk went batshit in downtown Manhattan, the event was treated akin to 911 or Nagasaki. The Hulk is exactly as powerful as he needs to be to shrug off nuclear weapons or to manhandle SHIELD helicarriers. Half the time, he doesn’t even need to be angry to do this shit. But it helps.
Doomsday is super big-big-big and hardcore to the bonespurs. Not only is he stronger than Superman, but he can adapt things like firebreathing and immunities to time travel, just ‘cause (Seriously). He’s a super-adaptoid that presumably can never be defeated the same way twice. Despite all this, Superman essentially bludgeoned him to death. He’d never been bludgeoned before? I find that hard to believe.
Even without my phenomenal disrespect for everything that is Doomsday, I’d still hand this fight to the Hulk. He’s everything Doomsday wants to be, only slightly less ridiculous, more storied, and possesses a longer pedigree. The more Doomsday can take and dish out, the angrier the Hulk becomes. Considering the already ridiculous level of power the Hulk is presumed to wield on any given Sunday, surely by the time he’s miffed, he can gain the edge on the super-spiny asshat from beyond the moon. If Superman can slug it out with this beast, the Hulk can… in half the time, and won’t fall down like a sissy afterwards.
Because Hulk is hardcore.
Winner: Hulk by KO after 130 rounds.
Middleweight Bout
Captain Jack Sparrow
versus
Captain Malcolm “Tightpants” Reynolds
Born in the mid 1700’s, Jack Sparrow, became enamored with the life of the pirate at a young age. Belonging to the sea and having no other love, Jack made a deal with Davy Jones to Captain the Black Pearl. Under his command the crew safely prospered. Too safely for some, and his spirit was crushed when he was mutinied by his First Mate, Barbossa. Eventually he regains his command and remains fiercely independent, caring little for anything outside his ship and his little piece of the sea.
Born September 20, 2468, Malcolm Reynolds was born on the planet Shadow to a ranching family. Growing up with a good work ethic and an appreciation for quiet living, Mal took exception to Alliance meddling and took up arms in the Unification War. A good natured, faithful, and cheerful man, Captain Reynolds’ spirit was broken at the battle for Serenity Valley on Hera. Worse than being routed in the skirmish, was being abandoned for over a week with the dead, dying and wounded by both sides. With his faith shattered, he and his Second, Zoe, vowed to stick together and start running. Never to look back. Years later, he remains fiercely independent and loyal to his own, but cares little for anything outside his piece of the sky. Like George Jefferson, with a gun.
Both men are of ever-changing loyalty and quick, tricksome wits. Both are tarnished men who hold only to their personal codes of honor and mutable moralities above all else and would sooner avoid violence when possible. Even still, either man is capable of pulling his respective weight in a tussle. Playing dirty but fighting dirtier, and holding survival over so-called ethics.
Sparrow is an expert swordsman, a reasonable shot, and --while not a preferred pugilist-- should be considered adept in the ways of fisticuffs. Mal is more of a two-fisted, two-gun caballero who’s experience with swords has left him wanting.
Neither man is beholden to a fair fight, nor above trying to fast talk their way to an advantage. While both are renaissance men of accomplished home-spun schoolin’, Mal is occasionally witless in the face of more formalized educations and likelier to lose the battle of silver tongues. Similarly, Captain Reynolds is on the losing curve when it comes to cutlass or blade, yet both draw a dead heat on dirty tricks. Sparrow on the other hand finds himself outmatched in shooting and pure hand to hand survival.
This is a phenomenally tough match-up. I have to imagine it’s an ugly affair filled with disarms, hair-pulling, dirt throwing, and genital kicks. Somehow this will result in both men making their breaks for their respective vessels and hightailing it to fight another day when they believe the other one isn’t looking.
Winner: We, the viewers.
Lightweight Bout
Master Yoda
versus
Master Splinter
To one-up my geek cred from last week (supplying the world with the phrase, Kowalkian Monkey Lizard) I would love to reveal to you all that Yoda is a Samsarran Zen-Frog or some such thing. Alas, only Lucas and Yaddle know what’s up with Yoda or his race. There’s plenty of conjecture and misinformation surrounding the penultimate Jedi. There was an old Topps trading card that showed several Zen-Frogs around and atop a Buddha-esque Zen-Frog statue. Take from that what you will. What we do know is Yoda is over nine centuries old, one part magi, one part jester, and 100% Force-befriended maelstrom of Justice.
Depending on the version of the Ninja Turtles you are familiar with, Splinter is most often the pet of Hamato Yoshi, though sometimes Hamato himself. Whether starting as a rat mutated to walk like a man, or a man mutated to walk like a rat, Master Splinter comes out the same, a genteel and wise spirit who acts as father and sensei to four inscrutable, sewer-dwelling, adolescent abominations.
Is there any situation that a sage-like frog magician loses to a sagelike rat ninja? Very few indeed. We have to presume Yoda is possessed of very real magical powers, whereas the most Splinter can conjure are simple misdirections. That’s not even counting the lightsaber.
I’m sure this fight starts even enough, but to finish it’s a landslide.
Winner: Yoda, all flips and Force pushes.
Bantam Bout
Justin, Rat of N*I*M*H
versus
Stuart Little
Justin is one of several rats experimented on by the National Institute for Mental Health, granting him exceptional intelligence replete with the ability and desire to utilize tools. Justin is a humble paragon to the other Rats of N*I*M*H and champion of moving from the rosebush where they can live long and honest lives away from humans. Justin finds himself the de facto leader of the Rats after the death of his friend, Nicodemus and his colleague, Jenner.
Stuart Little is a freaksome mouse who walks on hind legs, talks, and is possessed of a desire to wear sneakers for no discernable reason. It is possible that he, himself has escaped from N*I*M*H as he displays much of the same skill set as the rats of the rosebush. However, he dedicates much of his intelligence to convincing humans to love him, which runs contrary to the aforementioned Rats understandable mistrust of people. Stuart Little is very difficult to dislike and has been known to be able to charm many who would wish him ill, coming around to a feel good ending that asserts everyone has a place or something.
Justin has a soft spot for mice, considering he owes his life to one Jonathan Frisby (Brisby), and is largely a peacenik. That said, he’s one of the more able-bodied Rats of N*I*M*H and quite capable of fighting hand to hand or with fashioned weapons. Despite his disadvantage in size, Justin even volunteered to attempt to poison the scourge, Dragon. Brave, strong, and having firmly been in the shit, Justin is quite capable of handling all that nature and man have thrown at him. Letalone some pussy mouse voiced by Michael J. Fox.
Stuart Little is adaptable and quite agile, capable of outsmarting various cats, birds, and other natural predators. He also may or may not possess some amount of unquantified mind control that helps him convince the likes of Thelma Dickinson and Dr. House that he’s just as good as a human son.
As clever and fleet-footed as Stuart may be, he is simply no match for Justin in a physical joust. He may not appreciate it at the time, but Stuart is quite lucky, as his opponent is no killer and will almost certainly spare him. Despite the mockery he makes of Justin’s life of hardship.
Winner: Justin, after a quick and comical chase around the house.
Thank you all for joining me once again for Friday Night Fights and then some.
Current Mood: scrappy
Opine    |
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