Destroy That Digimon!
A gameshow hosted by the one and only Brock!
Brock straightened his one and only top hat. He pulled his one and only tie. He ripped the words 'one' and 'only' from HyperMew's dictionary. Then he started the show.
BROCK: Okay, guys, here's the point of this show. We're trying to destroy Digimon. And now, let's begin!!!!!
The curtain opens. Inside there's a long passageway lit with torches. There's also a chair with what looks like a high-tech overhead in front of it.
BROCK: Our first contestant is…Matt!!!!
Matt comes up the passageway.
MATT: Huh? What's going on?
BROCK: Sit in the chair and write your name.
Matt's sloppy signature: MaTt#$!!!!
BROCK: Now, Matt, what you have to do is answer a question. If you get it right, you get a prize. If you don't, I'm going to have to pull this string! (nods vigorously at a string dangling behind him)
MATT: Okay!
BROCK: Just a sec. (pushes button and the overhead thingie sinks into the floor) Okay. First Question: What three things involved with Pokemon that are totally useless, and all start with M?
MATT: Metapod, Magikarp, and Mr. Emerid!
BROCK: Correct! Shoot…
Brock pulls the string anyway. A ten foot Hershey bar falls on Matt's head and breaks in half.
MATT: Yum!
BROCK: Keep going till you miss! Next question: If you could strangle Ash with a doughnut, what would you do?
A. Lock James and Ash in the same room
B. Lock HyperMew and Ash in the same room
C. Eat a doughnut
D. Ponder the meaning of life
MATT: Uhhh…C!
BROCK: Wrong! (yay)
Brock pulls the string and a wheelbarrow falls on Matt's head, and breaks in half.
MATT: Yum!
BROCK: What?!?! You call that a
PUNISHMENT?
He pulls the string again and HyperMew falls on top of him. Then HyperMew turns him into a rubber chicken.
HYPERMEW: Yay! I've always wanted a rubber chicken!
BROCK: Next contestant is…Lopmon!
LOPMON: Hi!
BROCK: Write your name on the-(looks around) Hey, where'd the hi-tech overhead thingie go?
The hi-tech overhead thingie rises out of the ground.
BROCK: Write your name.
Lopmon's signature: Lopmon is great.
BROCK: What? You aren't great! Lemme see that…
Brock's Lopmon's signature: Lopmon is a long-eared freak!
LOPMON: What a party pooper.
BROCK: Shut up. Question Number One: What is HyperMew's last name?
A. Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious
B. Antidisestablishmentarianism (that's actually the right way to spell it!)
C. Sotashi
D. Satoshi
LOPMON: D!
BROCK: Final answer?
LOPMON: Lifeline!
BROCK: Ugh. Uhhh…A…or D?
LOPMON: A!
BROCK: Final answer?
LOPMON: I wanna ask the audience!
AUDIENCE: Beep Boop Beep (they tap out their answers on the button doohickey)
BROCK: It says: Answer D: 99.9 and 999,999/1,000,000
Answer A: 1/1,000,000
LOPMON: A!
BROCK: Final answer?
LOPMON: Call a friend.
BROCK: (sighing) Who do you want to call?
LOPMON: Bob the Builder!
BOB THE BUILDER ON THE TELEPHONE: Hi, Lopmon! I just got a tattoo! It says The author of this fanfic is a lunatic! on my shoulder now!
BROCK: You have 30 seconds.
LOPMON: Waazup?
BOB THE BUILDER ON THE TELEPHONE: Waazup? 21…20…19
LOPMON: What's 22?
BOB THE BUILDER ON THE TELEPHONE: 93! 12…11…10
LOPMON: Thanks! (hangs up)
LOPMON: Ninety-three!
BROCK: Wrong. The answer was twenty-one, but the correct answer was seven.
.dnaL sdrawkcaB ,dnaL sdrawkcaB (gnigins) :NOMPOL
Brock pulls a string and a bunch of fanfics (all written by yours truly) fall on Lopmon's head.
LOPMON: Ha ha! That didn't hurt!
A two-ton grizzly bear falls on Lopmon's head.
TWO-TON GRIZZLY BEAR: (eats Lopmon, then takes off his skin) I'm T.K., the next contestant!
BROCK: But the next contestant is Antylamon.
T.K.: (proudly) I ate him!
BROCK: Oh, all right. Write your name.
T.K.'s signature: your name
Brock whacks himself in the forehead.
BROCK: What should the country be doing right now?
A. Dancing
B. Dancing
C. Dancing
D. Flubbing
T.K.: Lifeline! 50-50!
BROCK: A or C?
T.K.: Uh, C!
BROCK: Correct! Next question: If Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled lemons, and Lindsey Lemons picked a peck of pickled peppers, and Austin Apples picked a peck of pickled potatoes, and Patsy Potatoes picked a peck of Swedish Hairballs, and they all took their stock to market, and Peter and Lindsey sold the same amount, and Austin sold two more than them and three times as much as Patsy, and Patsy sold one, and she sold that to the cat who was at the end of the line for Swedish Fish and didn't get one, how many teeth would the Great Emperor of China have after he was kicked in the gut?
T.K.: Ninety-three!
BROCK: Hee hee hee.
T.K.: Oh, shoot! I'm wrong, right?
Brock nods.
BROCK: Yep!
T.K.: (sighs) Oh well…
BROCK: (pulls string) Bye Bye!
T.K.: Hey, my chair is falling! (jumps up and somehow lands safely. His chair, however, is not so lucky) Hey-OUCH! Heeeeeellllllppppppp!!!!!!!!! (Ash has just jabbed him in the rear end with a cattle prod)
BROCK: (sighs) It was over so quickly. Oh well. Our next contestant is…Kari!
Kari walks up the passageway.
KARI: Oh no…
BROCK: Sit down.
Kari sits reluctantly.
BROCK: Write your name.
Kari's signature: Kari. The dame of the Digi-Destined.
BROCK: Hey! Lemme fix that.
Brock's Kari's signature: Kari. The loser of the Digi-Destined.
BROCK: I like doing that!
Kari shrugs.
BROCK: 'Kay, you moron. Question number one: What is 15 x 15?
KARI: 225…
BROCK: Uhhh…Oh! You're right! Ash, zap her!
Ash pokes her with the cattle prod.
KARI: Hey! That hurt!
ASH: (sticking out his tongue) Thhhppppttttt!!!!
KARI: Why, oh why?
BROCK: Because we all hate Digimon!
KARI: WHAT?
BROCK: We all hate Digimon!
KARI: WHAT?
BROCK: Someone whack her…
ASH: Okay! (conks Kari on the head with the cattle prod)
TEAM ROCKET: (appearing upon the scene) Hi, we were sent from the RBNWTFFSBS. Otherwise known as the Really Bad Nimrods Who Think FanFics Should Be Shortened. Anyway, the RBNWTFFSBS say that if ya don't close up this fic soon, their gonna:
A. Shoot HyperMew.
B. Shoot you.
C. Shoot us.
D. Close down this fanfic.
BROCK: What? That's crazy! They wouldn't-
A gameshow hosted by the one and only Brock!
Disclaimer: THIS SPACE FOR RENT
Summary: Brock hosts a gameshow, whose one and only purpose is to say one and
only a lot! (and also to destroy Digimon)
Brock straightened his one and only top hat. He pulled his one and only tie. He ripped the words 'one' and 'only' from HyperMew's dictionary. Then he started the show.
BROCK: Okay, guys, here's the point of this show. We're trying to destroy Digimon. And now, let's begin!!!!!
The curtain opens. Inside there's a long passageway lit with torches. There's also a chair with what looks like a high-tech overhead in front of it.
BROCK: Our first contestant is…Matt!!!!
Matt comes up the passageway.
MATT: Huh? What's going on?
BROCK: Sit in the chair and write your name.
Matt's sloppy signature: MaTt#$!!!!
BROCK: Now, Matt, what you have to do is answer a question. If you get it right, you get a prize. If you don't, I'm going to have to pull this string! (nods vigorously at a string dangling behind him)
MATT: Okay!
BROCK: Just a sec. (pushes button and the overhead thingie sinks into the floor) Okay. First Question: What three things involved with Pokemon that are totally useless, and all start with M?
MATT: Metapod, Magikarp, and Mr. Emerid!
BROCK: Correct! Shoot…
Brock pulls the string anyway. A ten foot Hershey bar falls on Matt's head and breaks in half.
MATT: Yum!
BROCK: Keep going till you miss! Next question: If you could strangle Ash with a doughnut, what would you do?
A. Lock James and Ash in the same room
B. Lock HyperMew and Ash in the same room
C. Eat a doughnut
D. Ponder the meaning of life
MATT: Uhhh…C!
BROCK: Wrong! (yay)
Brock pulls the string and a wheelbarrow falls on Matt's head, and breaks in half.
MATT: Yum!
BROCK: What?!?! You call that a
PUNISHMENT?
He pulls the string again and HyperMew falls on top of him. Then HyperMew turns him into a rubber chicken.
HYPERMEW: Yay! I've always wanted a rubber chicken!
BROCK: Next contestant is…Lopmon!
LOPMON: Hi!
BROCK: Write your name on the-(looks around) Hey, where'd the hi-tech overhead thingie go?
The hi-tech overhead thingie rises out of the ground.
BROCK: Write your name.
Lopmon's signature: Lopmon is great.
BROCK: What? You aren't great! Lemme see that…
Brock's Lopmon's signature: Lopmon is a long-eared freak!
LOPMON: What a party pooper.
BROCK: Shut up. Question Number One: What is HyperMew's last name?
A. Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious
B. Antidisestablishmentarianism (that's actually the right way to spell it!)
C. Sotashi
D. Satoshi
LOPMON: D!
BROCK: Final answer?
LOPMON: Lifeline!
BROCK: Ugh. Uhhh…A…or D?
LOPMON: A!
BROCK: Final answer?
LOPMON: I wanna ask the audience!
AUDIENCE: Beep Boop Beep (they tap out their answers on the button doohickey)
BROCK: It says: Answer D: 99.9 and 999,999/1,000,000
Answer A: 1/1,000,000
LOPMON: A!
BROCK: Final answer?
LOPMON: Call a friend.
BROCK: (sighing) Who do you want to call?
LOPMON: Bob the Builder!
BOB THE BUILDER ON THE TELEPHONE: Hi, Lopmon! I just got a tattoo! It says The author of this fanfic is a lunatic! on my shoulder now!
BROCK: You have 30 seconds.
LOPMON: Waazup?
BOB THE BUILDER ON THE TELEPHONE: Waazup? 21…20…19
LOPMON: What's 22?
BOB THE BUILDER ON THE TELEPHONE: 93! 12…11…10
LOPMON: Thanks! (hangs up)
LOPMON: Ninety-three!
BROCK: Wrong. The answer was twenty-one, but the correct answer was seven.
.dnaL sdrawkcaB ,dnaL sdrawkcaB (gnigins) :NOMPOL
Brock pulls a string and a bunch of fanfics (all written by yours truly) fall on Lopmon's head.
LOPMON: Ha ha! That didn't hurt!
A two-ton grizzly bear falls on Lopmon's head.
TWO-TON GRIZZLY BEAR: (eats Lopmon, then takes off his skin) I'm T.K., the next contestant!
BROCK: But the next contestant is Antylamon.
T.K.: (proudly) I ate him!
BROCK: Oh, all right. Write your name.
T.K.'s signature: your name
Brock whacks himself in the forehead.
BROCK: What should the country be doing right now?
A. Dancing
B. Dancing
C. Dancing
D. Flubbing
T.K.: Lifeline! 50-50!
BROCK: A or C?
T.K.: Uh, C!
BROCK: Correct! Next question: If Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled lemons, and Lindsey Lemons picked a peck of pickled peppers, and Austin Apples picked a peck of pickled potatoes, and Patsy Potatoes picked a peck of Swedish Hairballs, and they all took their stock to market, and Peter and Lindsey sold the same amount, and Austin sold two more than them and three times as much as Patsy, and Patsy sold one, and she sold that to the cat who was at the end of the line for Swedish Fish and didn't get one, how many teeth would the Great Emperor of China have after he was kicked in the gut?
T.K.: Ninety-three!
BROCK: Hee hee hee.
T.K.: Oh, shoot! I'm wrong, right?
Brock nods.
BROCK: Yep!
T.K.: (sighs) Oh well…
BROCK: (pulls string) Bye Bye!
T.K.: Hey, my chair is falling! (jumps up and somehow lands safely. His chair, however, is not so lucky) Hey-OUCH! Heeeeeellllllppppppp!!!!!!!!! (Ash has just jabbed him in the rear end with a cattle prod)
BROCK: (sighs) It was over so quickly. Oh well. Our next contestant is…Kari!
Kari walks up the passageway.
KARI: Oh no…
BROCK: Sit down.
Kari sits reluctantly.
BROCK: Write your name.
Kari's signature: Kari. The dame of the Digi-Destined.
BROCK: Hey! Lemme fix that.
Brock's Kari's signature: Kari. The loser of the Digi-Destined.
BROCK: I like doing that!
Kari shrugs.
BROCK: 'Kay, you moron. Question number one: What is 15 x 15?
KARI: 225…
BROCK: Uhhh…Oh! You're right! Ash, zap her!
Ash pokes her with the cattle prod.
KARI: Hey! That hurt!
ASH: (sticking out his tongue) Thhhppppttttt!!!!
KARI: Why, oh why?
BROCK: Because we all hate Digimon!
KARI: WHAT?
BROCK: We all hate Digimon!
KARI: WHAT?
BROCK: Someone whack her…
ASH: Okay! (conks Kari on the head with the cattle prod)
TEAM ROCKET: (appearing upon the scene) Hi, we were sent from the RBNWTFFSBS. Otherwise known as the Really Bad Nimrods Who Think FanFics Should Be Shortened. Anyway, the RBNWTFFSBS say that if ya don't close up this fic soon, their gonna:
A. Shoot HyperMew.
B. Shoot you.
C. Shoot us.
D. Close down this fanfic.
BROCK: What? That's crazy! They wouldn't-