Ultimate Foe
By K9: The First
Disclaim: Slade Wilson belongs to DC Comics and Cartoon Network, the Wii Console to Nintendo
This little thing is for Black/Hyena Boy on the RBSU's Secret Santa thing. …Ho ho ho.
Punch.
Swing.
Block.
Jab.
Dodge, repeat.
This was the pattern of the combat, with numerous alterations saturated within. Sometimes a Jab took the place of a Dodge. Sometimes of a swing. And sometimes it, or a suitable substitute, was left out entirely as the opponents danced around each other in their violent dance.
Slade had relieved himself of his mask hours ago, not only to better gain the much needed oxygen his lungs were beginning to lack, but to widen his vision of this battlefield, to better calculate his opponent's moves. The sound of grunts and 'oofs' filled the air as the balance of the conflict stabilized.
Finally, Slade made one tinsy, itsy-bitsy mistake, a minute hesitation, which his ruthless adversary mercilessly grabbed the advantage, way-laying him with a barrage of indecipherable beatings, until Slade's avatar fell to the arena floor. Unconscious.
As the screen faded to black and the phrase GAME OVER glared at the one-eyed man, Slade just stared. Hands on his knees, unable to say a word around his ragged gasps for air.
He lost…
He… Lost.
He-Slade Wilson- had just lost. A. Fight.
And to a non-existent woman no less!
He looked down at the controls in his hands, his Wii-mote and Nunchuk, stunned.
When suddenly, a little twinkle came to his eye, as a sudden, but somehow not unexpected realization came to mind.
"Finally." He stated simply. "A worthy foe! At last!"
The woman returned to the screen, the subtitle bar at the bottom of the screen gave a single statement: Play Again?
His knees became weak. A tear collected in his single eye.
"Oh Wii!" He screamed in jubilation, hugging the console in front of the TV. "Where have you been in my life?! I would LOVE to!"
And with that, he pressed start, and he and his new love rejoined in their activities.
THE END