Marx and Magolor were sweating intensely as their momentous arm-wrestling competition really started to heat up.
Dedede and Esacrgoon were terrified. This championship was their life as they had invested ten zillion smackeroos on the deceitful little grape.
"You cannot win," Magolor said as he used his other hand to point to the calendar. It was Sunday. "It's my stinkin' day, pleb."
Marx growled and fueled his meaty bicep with the power of his malevolent soul. "I shan't be bested by the likes of you, eggy boy!"
Burning Leo rang the bell. "It's the end of this round," he said.
Marx and Magolor returned to the opposite ends of the ring. Marx looked at himself in the mirror and screamed.
"What's up, kid?" asked Rick with so much Australian charisma like boomerangs and wallaby stew.
"I can't believe it!" Marx said with so much drama. "I don't even have arms!"
Dedede collapsed into his snail guy's arms and wept bitterly. "How do we clobbah dat kirbeh now?"
Escargoon began to shed tears as well, but the salty content of his duct leakage caused him to burn up and die.
Dedede mourned Escargoon. Kirby watched from the shadows and dropped it like it was hot.
Marx saw Kirby's hotness. "Ah, that fatboy is the key to my victory!" The sneaky jester boy waddled over to Kirby. "Kirby, I'm gonna need some of that…"
Kirby raised an eyebrow and grinned that saucy grin. He handed Marx some o' dat Mo Bamba.
The Mo Bamba flew into the air and broke into tiny fragments. The fragments intermingled with Marx's ethereal aura and made him more powerful. He was even more powerful than Kit Cosmos's toes.
Kirby glanced over at Magolor. "You are a deadman…" he said to the young egg.
"My steez meter is unlimited, tho," said Magolor and he took out his own Mo Bamba. He cranked it up and passed the auxiliary cord. Magolor then grew biceps the size of Neptune.
Fatty Whale emerged from the deep seas and smiled at Magolor's exceptional usage of Mo Bamba. It reminded him of the good old days in West Virginia on the country road. He was taken home.
Marx sneered and cranked up his own Mo Bamba. This made his glutes even more muscular than they already were (he could lift two tons with those things).
Magolor put Mo Bamba into his burrito and shoved it into his kitty ear thingies. Now his brain was overpowered due sharing a room with Mo Bamba.
Marx retaliated with a sick dance move that summoned Mo Bamba onto his Timberlands. He grew a stunning pair of wings that looked like they belonged to the god of egg salad.
Magolor was not amused, he swallowed his calendar whole and gained the ultimate power of Magolor Day. Mo Bamba rained down from the heavens in honour of Magolor's mighty sacrifice.
Marx and Magolor approached one another. Fists darted out of their righteous six-pack abs and collided with matter-decimating force. At this point, Green Hill was looking more like Sand Hill.
Zero watched from above and wept blood because he was in awe of how hot Marx and Magolor's arm-wrestling contest was getting. He put a bandage on his eyeball and continued reading his ancient scroll about fondue.
"Is this what you wanted, my beloved brother?" Dedede whispered into Escargoon's dead ear.
Marx then picked up some Mo Bamba and slammed it into Magolor's face. Magolor came right back at him like a television adaption and smashed the Mo Bamba with his Megaton Hammer.
It was truly the greatest battle in the history of ever.
And you missed it.
THE GRAND END