Monday, 2 September 2013

FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT! #47


The animal kingdom, while inaccurately named (it's a despotism, ruled by owls), is home to some of the most potent displays of raw fightualistic booyah on the planet.

Only one man working in cinema today truly understands the animalistic nature of the fight, and that man is therefore freedom. 

That man is Nicholas Cage.

If anyone is going to sock it to Mother Nature, then he is going use all of his clothes, and run at nature screaming 'CAYAAAAAARKUCKLE' in his own inimitable way.

This is going to be more erotic than usual.


FIGHT #47

 

CASTOR TROY

vs
BEES



WHO THEY THEN? 



Castor Troy is described on the Villains Wiki with the sentence 'It's a dangerous terrorist'. He is a tad outré.




Bees are Terran insects. They make merry and honey and bees' wax.

THEY PACKING MUCH HEAT?


Castor Troy packs so much heat that he will kill your son if he can't kill you. He is so exothermic that when he says things like:

IT THEN HAPPENS.

Bees are capable of stinging to varied levels of detriment. Sometimes the sting is quite annoying and sore for a bit, but the bee's guts get pulled out with the curved stinger and it's not that bad. Sometimes the bee sting can cause an allergic reaction, or indeed an over-reaction, eg.


Though the worst possible outcome is this:



THEIR BACK: WHO HAS IT?


Castor has, as a terrorist, a gang of likely looking lads who are more than happy to aid and abet his attempts to destabilise mankind for no reason other than personal gain. The scamps.

Bee stings release pheromones that cause other bees to join the attack. Also people prefer bees to wasps because of their charity work, generally gregarious nature, and endearing personification as the mascot of Behar.

NUANCES AND WHATNOT


Castor Troy is played by Nicholas Cage and John Travolta, and therefore has no nuances whatsoever.

Bees, like tall awkward white men, communicate effectively through dance.




IT'S CLOBBERING TIME 


Castor Troy pushes the surgeon into the pit of Goodnight Sweetheart boxsets. His body will never be found. Still, at least he fixed Castor up nicely after that whole 'being harpooned in the chest' thing. Now Troy is free to wreak havoc on the world of sense once again, and only one thing can stop him...

BEES.

Before his death, the surgeon warned Castor that his life was only saved due to an experimental surgery that involved injecting his heart with bee venom in order to restart it and accept the Royal Jelly that would plug the gaps left by all the flesh that got harpooned out the way earlier. It was the first and only experiment of its kind, largely because literally no-one else thought it made sense.

The only drawback is that it would make Troy an incredibly confusing prospect for any bee that happened to cross his path. Thus, one further surgery had to take place in order to convince all bees that Castor was one of their kind, and posed them no threat.

It had taken some getting used to, but Castor Troy was starting to enjoy having the head of a bee.

There had been some earlier confusion about this process, resulting in Troy nearly having the head of a Beefeater, but thankfully common sense won out.

Pausing only to dismiss his sudden urge to consume Honey-Nut-Loops, Troy marched off to his favourite relaxing-garden-that-would-make-a-good-place-for-a-shoot-out. It is a serene place indeed, with the only sounds being a refreshing breeze, the rush of running water, and the buzz of the Bumble...bees.

Troy tenses. He'd planned for this eventuality, but plans could go wrong. Or right. That was it. A somewhat limited playing field, really.

The bee bumbled along, like a pissed cork on a string, and then stopped buzzing, hovering exactly in line with Troy's new face. Then it buzzed quite orf, fizzing with panic.

It wasn't the expected result, but neither was it disastrous. Castor Troy spent many happy minutes reclining on a park bench, thinking dastardly thoughts, when he heard a heavy droning noise fill the air.

A carpet of bees, like Bert from Sesame Street's eyebrow, floated ominously towards Castor Troy. Even for a terrorist with terrifying wrists, this made him nervous.

The bee-mass' approach swooped down low, and a ramp detached itself from the solid seeming mass.

The droning changed in pitch, up and down.

'Bzzzz bzzz, bzz BZZ.'

Previously Castor Troy had never been able to understand bees, but it had not worried him unduly. Now, he felt with sudden clarity the gist of what they were droning on about.

'Step forward, o Lord,' said the bees, and hesitantly Castor Troy did so, his weight supported by the thick blanket of bee-kind. His feet tingled as the insects moved beneath him, the ramp folding up back into the main mass of the bee-form.

'What now?' said Castor Troy. There was no response. 'Um, guys?'

Still nothing.

Something within his mind told him to pull shapes, and he did so with gusto.

'You are our new King,' replied all the bees in the world, 'We will take you to wherever you need to go, and do your bidding no matter what it is and how bizarre a scenario ensues.'


'Oh really?' said Castor Troy, 'In that case...I plan to misbeehave.'


AND THE WINNER IS...

CASTOR TROY, KING OF BEES


FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT! will return in:


"SCREW YOU, I LIKE THAT PUN

If you have any suggestions for who you'd like to see square go each other in future FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT! articles, please mention them below.

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