Title: Man Off!
Summary: Wesker and Warrior costume clad Chris have a bit of a man off. Who is the manlier man? Who knows!
Notes: It's been a while since I've written anything. I need to get back in the game. This is based on a joke we've made in my family about Wesker's leather outfit being very dominatrix-like and how Chris is trying to out dom him with his Warrior look. It's silly, pointless, and something I'd like to see in person! Enjoy!
"What is this?" Albert Wesker realized he sounded a lot like his old colleague Barry Burton with the question but it had to be asked. Here he had intended to have a seven minute face off with his old rival Chris Redfield. Instead he found himself facing something truly horrifying.
Chris was standing in front of him with badly greased black hair, sunglasses, elbow length leather glows, spiked shoulder pads, and straps across his chest. With no shirt.
Wesker was not sure if he should laugh or vomit. Maybe both.
"I think he is trying to be more of a man than you Albert."
Wesker glanced at Excella. She seemed confused herself but was better at hiding it than he. "More of a man? Well if you consider steroid use manly..."
"Ooooh!" The three women in the room, Excella, Sheva Alomar, and Jill Valentine huddled together, ready to watch this manly battle.
"Steroids?" Chris scoffed. "Jealous much?"
"Sickened."
Chris rolled his eyes and flexed, tossing a wink off to the ladies. The three giggled.
Wesker rolled his red eyes and said, "I can show you manly." He ripped his leather shirt off like a Chippendale's dancer, grinning as feminine squeals echoed through the ancient chamber. The three scurried over to Albert and tried to touch his naked torso. He swatted them away. "Shoo! No Wesker for you!"
"Hey!"
Jill turned to see Chris looking slightly put out. "But he's so handsome! And the accent! And the hair!"
Chris ran a hand through his greased hair. "What about it?" he demanded. "Mine looks like his!" he added.
Sheva shook her head. "There is a difference between sleekly gelled and greased."
Chris continued to sulk. This was seriously not cool. If he could not flex and pose better than Wesker, then what could he do? Finally, it came to him.
"I KEEL YOU!" he shouted, taking a diving leap at the older man. The two men fell into a heap of punching, kicking, and flailing limbs.
"Eww!" Wesker said in disgust, finding himself coated in hair grease. He did a few back flips to get himself away from the slimy creature that was Chris Redfield.
The three women hooted and held up score cards, all of three them showing a 10.
Chris grinned expectantly at the three of them. They put their heads together and conferred, then held up score cards for him. He added the numbers together and then yelped. "Thirteen?!" he demanded.
Jill held up a seven. Sheva held up a six. Excella held up a zero.
"You're just not doing it for me honey." she purred.
Chris growled and chased after Wesker again. The two wound up battling it out on the staircase. Then, out of nowhere, another man came barreling into them, knocking them both in a black leather heap on the ground floor.
The handsome light brown-skinned man grinned as Jill, Excella, and Sheva flocked to him. "All the foxy ladies dig my accent!"
Chris and Wesker exchanged a glance. Then they glanced at Carlos Oliveira. Together they let out a loud groan and flopped back onto the floor, defeated.
