Disclaimer: Chances are, my love for the Japanese Mobile Fight G Gundam and the British Whose Line Is It, Anyway will not produce a good hybrid. Buuuut, we're gonna try it anyway, so I would like to go on record as saying neither belong to me and it's a good thing for them that they don't.
Whose Battle Is It, Anyway?
"All right, everyone," the man behind the desk began. He was superbly dressed, wearing a red tuxedo and a black eyepatch. His black hair was slicked back and he grinned in a rather disarming way. "Today, we shall make a short reprieve from the Gundam Fight to play 'Whose Battle Is It, Anyway?' The improvisation game that puts Gundam Fighters in uncomfortable situations." He was speaking both to the studio audience behind him and the cameras recording everything to air the proceedings on the entertainment circuit at a later date. The audience clapped and cheered and the cameras just kept rolling.
"Our contestants today are: the best thing to come from Neo-Japan since the Devil Gundam, Domon Kasshu." The man in the first chair to the right reached into his torn, red cloak, but before he could finish that thought, Stalker, from behind his desk continued, "The always talkative and jovial Argo Gulskii." The second man didn't react. At all. "The lost sailor soldier, Allenby Biazury." The third contestant grinned and waved. "And the champion of sexist pigs, Chibodee Crockett." The man farthest to the left threw a couple faux punches into the air. "And they are assisted on the piano by George de Sand." The noble pianist and fencer stood and bowed slightly.
"The first game tonight is for all four contestants, starting with Domon and Argo. It's called Questions. They will act out a scene only speaking in questions. Should they fail, they will be replaced by the other contestant standing behind them." Obediently, Domon and Argo shuffled to the center of the stage with Chibodee standing behind Domon and Allenby behind Argo on the wings. "The scene," Stalker said, reading from the notes he had been provided with before hand, "is right before a bar fight. Ready? Go!!"
Domon began, reaching once again into his cloak. This time, his motion was completed and he was able to pull out a torn photograph. "Have you seen this man?" he asked.
"No," Argo replied gravely, earned a beep from Stalker's buzzer. Allenby bounded into center stage.
"You do know we're playing a game, right?" she asked.
"I have no time for such things," Domon replied. The buzzer rang again. "What the hell?" He whirled around instead of moving aside for Chibodee.
"You lost, Domon," Chibodee said, gesturing with his thumb over his shoulder. "Beat it."
Enraged, Domon snarled, "I'll overcome all the Fighters in Hong Kong to win the Gundam Fight. I do not lose."
"This isn't a fight, it's a game," Chibodee protested. "And you lost."
"You've never been able to say that to me in the ring!"
"We're not in the ring!"
At his desk, Stalker smacked the palm of his hand against his forehead. "And this game's over. A point to Allenby for being the only person to only speak in questions." As he spoke, Stalker noted Allenby's single point on his pad. Defeated, the three men wandered back to their seats while Allenby pranced to her seat. As the contestants sipped from the glasses of water provided for them, Stalker double checked his notes before announcing the next game.
"Now, we'll play Party Quirks. Argo is hosting a party and the other three are guests. They've each been given an odd way of behaving and Argo must determine what they are." Everyone's attention turned to Domon, Allenby and Chibodee who were reading their cards. All three wore thoughtful expressions, though there was little doubt that Domon's came from trouble reading the card. Unfortunately for him, it wasn't written in Japanese. Allenby and Chibodee, however, where playing the game out of choice and had an enthusiasm not shared by either the Japanese or Russian Gundam Fighters. There was little doubt they were trying to determine the best way to act their assignment.
Argo, meanwhile, had moved to the center of the stage again. He should have been pantomiming setting up a party, but instead he was standing still, with his arms folded over his chest. Allenby and Chibodee lined up at the wings, though they had to coax Domon to do the same.
Stalker made a doorbell noise and Argo dutifully crossed the stage to the line-up and pantomimed opening a door.
"It's ringing, it's ringing!" Allenby shrieked with her arms throw out to her sides. She moved forcibly through the imagined doorway, snatched up some imaginary food and finally leaned against an invisible wall with her arms folded over her chest and her legs crossed at the ankle.
"Enjoy my hospitality, Michelo Chariot," Argo said. Pleased with her own acting ability, Allenby retreated to her designated chair.
Stalker once again imitated a ringing doorbell and this time Argo let Chibodee onto the stage. He walked stiffly to where Allenby had created the table of fake food and pretended to inspect what he saw. "Raw vegetables grown with chemicals, no doubt. A plastic," he said that word as though it deeply offended him, "container of dip with environment damaging preservatives. Cold meats. You should have had an entirely vegetarian spread!" He crossed his arms and straightened his shoulders into a haughty position, waiting for Argo's interpretation.
"I apologize for not meeting your environmentally sound needs, Toho Fuhai," Argo said finally. Chibodee pumped his arms in triumph and returned to his seat.
Again, Stalker made the doorbell sound and Argo went to let his last party guest in.
"I'm not doing this," Domon said flatly.
"Aw, c'mon!" Allenby cried from her chair. "Domon, it's a lot of fun!"
To Allenby's credit, Domon seemed to really consider, but eventually he said "...No."
"How bad could it be?" Chibodee demanded. "Be a man, Domon!" Ignoring the encouragement of his friends, Domon handed his card to Argo without a word. The big man's large eyebrows raised.
"I believe," the Neo-Russian said, "that is precisely the problem, Chibodee." He turned to Domon. "You may return to your seat." Argo paused, but in a rare moment of sadism added, "Rain Mikamura." Blushing terribly--his entire face was as red as his cloak--Domon retreated to the relative safety of his chair. Argo followed soon after, as Stalker announced that he won two points for being disturbingly good at the game.
"Another game for everyone," Stalker said, once again checking his notes, "is Superheroes. First, we decided the first hero and the world crisis, and he decides the second hero and so on." Stalker swiveled in his chair to the audience. "Who's our hero?" Stalker was greeted with shouts and suggestions, finally settling on a blue-eyed brunette's suggestion of 'Captain Arrogant.' "And what's the crisis?" Stalker asked. An old man with a gray mustache and a white braid insisted the problem be the slow decay of the earth. Not wanting to incur the wrath of the famed martial arts master, Stalker complied. His game had undoubtedly push enough of that man's buttons that he saw no reason to press his luck.
Domon, AKA 'Captain Arrogant,' crossed his arms and stared vacantly head. "Oh, no," he said in clear display of bad acting, "The Earth is slowly decaying. I really don't care if my super friends show up, because I can handle this myself in my God Gundam."
Poised to snap his fingers, Argo cut Domon off by lumbering onto the stage.
"Well, if it isn't..." Domon paused and his eyes fixed on the bomb that kept the prisoner in line, in theory, "Bomb Man."
"I came as quickly as I could, Captain Arrogant," Argo said.
"You're assistance isn't needed," Domon informed him.
"His might not be," Chibodee announced as he flounced onto stage, "but I am!"
"I am relieved to have your help, Swelled Ego Boy," Argo said.
Again, Stalker slapped his palm against his forehead. "Now you're being difficult on purpose," he muttered.
"At least I can do some good without blowing up!" Chibodee retorted. Weither Allenby's entrance meant to make things worse of fix them was hard to say. Certainly, the game regressed even more when Chibodee announced that Lapdance Girl had arrived. The true end was the roundhouse kick that connected with Chibodee's gut.
"The next game was supposed to be Film and Theater Styles for Allenby and Chibodee, but in light of the last game, we should probably avoid a team up of those two. So, we'll move on to Foreign Film Dub. Chibodee and Domon will pretend to speak in a foreign language, with Allenby and Argo providing the translation." Stalker turned to the audience again as the players took their places. "What language are they speaking in?" He asked.
"Cantonese, Cantonese," some children in the audience chanted.
"We're in Hong Kong," Stalker said in a vain attempt at reasoning, "that is not a language or foreign. It's the local dialect."
"Cantonese, Cantonese," they chanted again.
"Fine," Stalker said, "Cantonese. Now what's the scene?"
"Domon loves Rain!" one of the same children shouted. A boy, Stalker noted. The brunette from the Superhero game was seated nearby and blushed almost as red as Domon had during the Party game as she sunk into her seat.
"Fine," Stalker said, not wanting to argue with the same stubborn child, especially if his sister joined in again. "The language is Cantonese and the scene is Domon loves Rain. Ready? Go!!"
Chibodee started, speaking in some sort of gibberish.
"I'm a womanizing jerk," Allenby translated.
"Blah, blah, blah," Domon said in a bored tone.
"Not I," Argo supplied. "Rain is the only girl for me."
Chibodee mimicked his original foreign comment.
"I'm so insecure," Allenby said with a smug grin. "I wish I could be like you."
"Blah," Domon replied.
"Oh," Argo began, "I'm not one to be envied. I desperately fear losing a loved one and therefore push everyone important to me away relentlessly. Your insecurities could never rival mine. In fact, I wish I was more like you because you don't have to deal with the confusing desires that I have."
Argo's absurdly long translation had caused the brunette in the audience to sink nearly out of sight. As for Domon, there might as well have been steam coming out of his ears.
Chibodee again spoke randomly, making no sense until Allenby brought clarity to his words.
"Boy, you're a weenie, Domon."
"Don't think you won't pay for that in the ring, Allenby," Domon said clearly.
"It was Chibodee," she protested. "Don't kill the messenger."
Stalker buzzed the game to an end.
"In our next game, Allenby is at a news conference. She must determine what she has done by using the questions the other three ask." Stalker gave the Neo-Swedish teen a cheap podium prop to stand behind and the other three moved to the end of the stage after reading the cards provided for this game.
"Is it true you stopped going crazy after the event?" Argo asked.
"Yep," Allenby replied after a moment. It was hard to answer questions when it was the asker who knew the correct explanation.
"Will you still be a capable Fighter?" Domon asked.
"Of course," Allenby answered, pride factoring into the game now.
"Happy you don't have to face me without it?" Chibodee inquired with a leer.
"Oh, puh-lease," was Allenby's response. "I could beat you without the Berserker System any day." In triumph, the four contestants returned to their seats.
"Mercifully, we're almost done. In fact, tallying up the points, it seems Argo was the winner and he gets to sit this last game out." Stalker chuckled. "A fine prize, I'm sure. So, if Domon, Chibodee and Allenby would step onto the stage for the Sai Sici Hoe-down, we can all get on with our lives and hopefully never do this again."
Time for a bit of a showcase of his skills, George began playing the hoe-down tune on the piano, but with a bit of a French flair.
Domon was the first to step forward and sing, surprising everyone with both his voice and willingness to participate.
"Sai Sici is a fighter, not yet in his prime,
Yet he is formidable, even without the time.
He's difficult to beat,
But it's not an impossible feat.
Others may not linger,
It took me a SHINING FINGAH!"
The audience cheered and clapped has Domon finished, the applause lasting through the musical interlude between verses. It died down when Chibodee stepped forward. Though his voice could never rival Domon's, Chibodee began to sing on cue without hesitation.
"The only Shuffle not in the game,
Sai Sici lost out on some fame.
That makes the Club Ace,
A total space case.
Even a kid should live his dream,
And, uh, we need coffee to go with cream?"
Chibodee didn't receive the same wild response that Domon did, but the audience cheered for him as well. Allenby stepped forward last and her cute voice rang out clear as the keys on George's piano.
"Don't overlook the kid,
Like so many fighters did.
You'll be sorry if you don't give Sai your all,
'Cause you'll take a really big fall.
The match, you might as well throw,
Gundam Fight, Ready, Go!!"
"Gundam Fight," All three echoed, "Ready? Go!!" The applause started again and somewhat difficulty, Stalker tried to talk over it.
"That's all for Whose Battle Is It, Anyway. Thank our guests Domon Kasshu, Argo Gulskii, Allenby Biazury and Chibodee Crockett. I'm Stalker, saying good night. Good night!"