Description: That would be Poison, who runs into Mister Big! They've both got eyes on Geese's Spanish Mansion, but who will get to keep it?! Be warned -- there be phallic objects here!
VALENCIA, SPAIN
Geese Howard owns a gorgeous villa on a hill. Or, well, owned. Now its legal status is kind of 'in dispute' because of Geese's horrible collapse. Where lawyers see a minefield of real estate wrangling, Poison Kiss sees opportunity. Opportunity, that is, for a vacation.
"NA-NA-NA-NA-NANANA-- KISS," she sings along to the Prince CD in the overblown stereo, dancing through the house with a gigantic blunt in one hand and a bottle of French wine in the other. "Hhhppfff HAVE TO BE BEE-YOU-TIFUL," she cries out to the beautiful hillside, "TO hglglggg ME AW-HAWWNN..."
Surely, she is free to sing and dance and be obnoxious in peace. (Strangely, her 'vacation' clothes are the same clothes she always wears.) No one would think to intrude here.
Right?
On the contrary. "Did I leave a radio on?" the Biggest Man of Them All wonders to himself as he lathers, rinses, and repeats. He shakes his head, thinking that Howard must have had some kind of automatic entertainment unit turn on, just like in that movie Iron Man. Since the fall of the Syndicate, he's had a lot of time for watching movies, as he nursed his injuries and sent out his metaphorical tentacles out into the underworld once more. Rebuilding, that's the phase that Mister Big is in right now.
And right now, the clothing that Mister Big is in happens to be a towel.
And there he is, standing in a doorway, watching Poison dance with the blunt and the bottle.
Behind his sunglasses, still slick with water from the shower but the rest of his body dry, the former Sultan of Southtown squints. This... "girl"... what the fuck is she doing here?
"What the fuck are you doing here?" he verbalizes his thoughts, one hand on his hip, the other holding the towel up. There's another towel on top of his head for some reason, as if he had any hair to dry.
Poison suddenly turns around, leaving Prince to finish the song solo. She drops the bottle of wine -- it breaks when it hits the floor. Her own expression is one of indignant shock as she eyes Big from towel to towel. "What the fuck are /you/ doing here?!" she retorts.
Then Poison glances from side to side, to ensure that none of Big's attack prostitutes are skulking toward her with knives, as is their wont. When she's satisfied with this, she resumes being a bitch: "Seriously, what the fuck?!"
If the girls were there, they'd likely be doing just that, and the world would lurch into some kind of 2D side-scrolling beat 'em up. As it stands, instead Mister Big scowls. "This is fuckin' Howard's property, and last I checked, you decided to take off to the fuckin' winds instead of signin' back up to help, you 'flaming' cunt," he replies in that rumble of a voice.
Stepping down the small rise and onto the same area as the pink-haired psycho, he's still scowling. "You here to fuckin' help out then, or what?" he demands, a hand reaching for his northern towel to remove it, yet still keep it in hand.
Poison adopts a repulsed expression. "Yeah, I bet you'd like me to 'help.' God, you look like a baby on steroids," she groans, gagging slightly. "No wonder you have to break women's wrists to get them to sign up with you, let alone /date/ you."
Poison reaches down and scoops up a big piece of the wine bottle -- its neck, with attendant shattery pieces stuck to it. A handy weapon, if not a very reliable one. "Come on, Big. You want this place? Then you gotta fight me for it. I hope you're not Jewish, either," she notes: "Because it'd be a shame if what I'm gonna do to you with this was redundant."
COMBATSYS: Poison has started a fight here.
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Poison 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Mr.Big has joined the fight here.
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Mr.Big 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Poison
"You're just jealous," Mister Big replies, not needing a better comeback when he has the weight of truth on his side. His scowl morphs into a sneer, and he winds the towel up, his other hand grabbing a rather phallic-shaped fertility statue in the other hand. Or at least, that's what the tag on it says. He hopes Poison hasn't gotten to it first.
"You want to fight? Fine, but if I win, guess you who're workin' for? Maybe your ass can lure in some Thai boys, they're into that, right?"
Cut or un-cut, he makes no comment. Instead, towel threatening to fall at any moment, he dashes forward, aiming to smash Poison right in the forehead with the fertility statue.
COMBATSYS: Poison blocks Mr.Big's Medium Strike.
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Mr.Big 0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0 Poison
Poison dips a shoulder low, attempting to thrust forward and gut-check the Biggest Man in the World, but ends up just getting smashed in the shoulder with a giant penis statue. "OW!" she cries, gripping her shoulder with her free hand, and flicking the blunt out of a conveniently open window.
"How /Fruedian/ of you, Big," she sneers at his choice of weapon, throwing the broken wine-bottle neck from one hand to the other and jabbing it forward, hoping to catch the Biggest Abdominals in the World with jagged glass. "I guess it's true that people's /fighting/ reveals more about them than they /think/!"
COMBATSYS: Mr.Big blocks Poison's Random Weapon.
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Mr.Big 0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0 Poison
From behind the still-dripping glasses, Mister Big watches the blunt sail out the window. Better a forest fire than a fire inside of the house, right? "What can I say?" he replies, fending off the jab with the statue, receiving a nice line of lacerations to the forearm for his efforts.
That voice cannot rumble any deeper. Towel flapping in one hand, he feints a whip at her with the terrycloth, only to follow it up with an almost mirror image of her own move. That statue stabs forward, seeking to dip deep into Poison's belly. "You're a bit of a dick!"
COMBATSYS: Mr.Big successfully hits Poison with Power Strike.
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Mr.Big 0/-------/------=|=======\-------\0 Poison
"UNGH!" Poison groans as her stomach is rammed mercilessly by Big's giant shaft. Crumpling forward and dropping the bottle fragment -- where it breaks further -- Poison clutches her belly, shivering for a moment. "You-- fuckin'-- ugghh," she groans, trying not to throw up from the immense blow to her non-ovaries.
Poison backs away, rising to her feet at the same time. The last thing she wants is to get up too close and accidentally knock Big's towel askew. "That's how we're doin' this? Fine. FINE!" Poison reaches for the nearest whip-like object -- in this case, a lamp, complete with electrical cord. Using the lamp's weighted end like a... well, weight, she tries to snare Big's ankle in the cord, and bring the whole of him down to the ground.
COMBATSYS: Poison successfully hits Mr.Big with Trip 'n Whip.
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Mr.Big 0/-------/-----==|=======\-------\1 Poison
Watching that weight come for his slim ankles, because surely Mister Big does not have cankles, he leaps in an attempt to evade -- only to have his ankle snared anyway! In one solid yank from Poison, the Chrome Dome Don finds himself flat on his back, which is where he typically likes to be but not right now!
"Fuck," he grunts after impact, his towel parted open at a rather unpleasant angle for Poison. It will hopefully be enough to keep her back as he rolls backwards, giving her another pleasant view as he seeks to regain his vertical footing. And naturally, that statue as well.
"Yeah, think I'm gonna enjoy peddlin' your ass out on the streets for some quick cash, even if you'll only bring in a certain kind of cliental!" Mister Big states, as he throws himself into a forward dive, spinning as he does so, the towel flaring out like a mini-skirt as he seeks to drive a fist and the statue into Poison's torso one more time!
COMBATSYS: Mr.Big successfully hits Poison with Cross Diving.
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Mr.Big 0/-------/---====|=======\=====--\1 Poison
Poison begins dry-heaving as she sees up the towel -- she sees what many women have thrilled to, chilled to, and spilled to. "Hu -- hurp -- hgh -- hurp -- hup -- hurrrpp --"
Her attempt to vomit is interrupted by Mr. Big crashing into her. She smashes through a wall, landing in what was once Rock Howard's bedroom, judging by all of the Whitesnake and Winger posters on the wall. The room would now appear to be used as storace, based on how it's full of boxes marked 'OFFSHORE CAYMAN ISLANDS HOLDING CO.' -- Poison crashes into some, spilling papers everywhere. "UNGH!"
Kicking back to her feet, Poison growls. "You piece of shit!" she hisses. "I'm gonna rip your eyes out, then rip your balls off, then switch 'em and see if your thick skull even notices the difference!" To this end, Poison lunges, and reaches up -- under the towel -- to make a desperate gambit -- and try and lay on the big squeeze.
COMBATSYS: Mr.Big interrupts I Learned This in Prison from Poison with Spinning Lancer.
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Mr.Big 0/-------/---====|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2 Poison
Landing in a crouch after knocking Poison through the wall, Mister Big smirks, tallying up the damage total so far. He's also thankful he's impervious to most glass, since he happens to be stepping on the remains of the broken bottle. Oh wait, no he's not impervious. "Fuck," he mutters, looking down at his feet.
It's at about this stage that the 'woman' is hissing and spitting venom, and makes a daring leap to grab at the Biggest Balls of Them All. That hand slips beneath the towel. His eyes bulge. Not about to take that lying down, or standing up for that reason, it's right as Poison's hand tightens that the spinning begins.
Arms out in both directions, he brushes off that embracing hand as he twists, and begins pummeling his knuckles repeatedly into Poison as he spins, and spins, and spins!
THOCK THOCK THOCK goes Poison's skull as she's beaten mercilessly by Big's hammering backfists. "AUUUNNGHH!" she cries, being pummeled like one of those weighted blow-up dolls, bouncing back and forth and back and forth until finally she's knocked away like a discarded toy.
Landing against young Rock's nightstand and knocking his collection of Terry Bogard muscle magazines out of the drawer, Poison gets back to her feet, growling. "It's gonna take a lot more than that to keep me down," Poison says, pink hair marred with streaks of red from the head wound she just suffered. "A LOT MORE!"
Poison leaps at Mr. Big, grabbing Rock's old science fair trophy and trying to drive it through Big's sunglasses into his brain.
COMBATSYS: Mr.Big dodges Poison's Fierce Strike.
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Mr.Big 0/-------/---====|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2 Poison
"Somehow, I don't think so," Mister Big rumbles, as he ducks rather neatly under the attempt to skewer his brain with the science fair trophy for making a popsicle-stick Geese Tower. Nepotism is grand, isn't it?
Coming back up, the Biggest Man of Them All rather crudely mule kicks backwards, aiming to knock the last vestiges of fight out of Poison, so they can get down to business. Well, maybe, anyway. "Enough of this," he adds, to help pad this pose a little further.
COMBATSYS: Mr.Big successfully hits Poison with Strong Kick.
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Mr.Big 0/-------/--=====|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2 Poison
Poison gets kicked right in the boob. It hurts. A lot. Enough to make her black out, maybe.
But before she does, she goes into a mythic trance state. Ethnobiologists have seen it happen only rarely in the wild -- they call this mysterious phenomenon 'tranny rage,' occurring when t-girls just go straight the fuck up berserk.
Which Poison does, lunging at Big, throwing elbows, kicks, knees, punches, headbutts -- a whirlwind, nay, a maelstrom of man-like strength.
COMBATSYS: Poison has reached second wind!
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Mr.Big 0/-------/--=====|=======\-------\1 Poison
COMBATSYS: Mr.Big interrupts Absolute Beatdown from Poison with Chopsticks.
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Mr.Big 0/-------/-======|=======\====---\1 Poison
Maybe, maybe not! As Mister Big rises from stretching his not-so-creamy hamstring back like that, he's faced with the powerful rage of someone who's been on an operating table for a very long period of time. A surprised grunt greets the descent of fists, feet and fanny, as the Biggest Man of Them All finds himself abused like so many other women.
But not about to take it all, he attempts to intervene, by descending onto each of Poison's ears with a happy clap.
"Sit the fuck down, you stupid bitch," Mister Big growls as his meaty hands swing for 'her' ears, hoping to put the trans-sitdown in trans-sitdown-gendered.
BOOM. Poison gets her ears clapped, and she lets out an unholy shriek. Momentarily deafened, she clutches at the sides of of her head, staggering backward -- luckily, Big also basically whacked her in the brain from two angles, and she'll be lucky if her skull is the same shape.
Poison falls to her knees, then falls forward, in the piles of muscle magazines, forged tax forms, and macaroni pictures saying 'I MISS U MOM.'
COMBATSYS: Poison takes no action.
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Mr.Big 0/-------/-======|=======\====---\1 Poison
And thinking that he'll have to wait around a while for Poison to get back up, Mister Big sighs, looking down at his injuries. "Fuck this, I need another shower. Maybe this bitch'll be back up and at 'em when I'm done," he says, turning away and stepping back from whence he came.
The Biggest Man of Them All, and a transgendered individual. The Syndicate, maybe it still has a chance? Provided Poison doesn't just escape while he's showering, leaving him with the task of reforming the Syndicate all by himself.
COMBATSYS: Mr.Big takes no action.
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Mr.Big 0/-------/-======|=======\====---\1 Poison
COMBATSYS: Poison has left the fight here.
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Mr.Big 0/-------/-======|
Log created on 21:58:11 08/31/2009 by Mr.Big, and last modified on 03:46:49 09/01/2009.