Sorry about the delay-- normally I always get around to updating on Tuesdays, but hey, I've been really busy these past few days. Now, I'll bet that all you unpatient readers are already looking down at the title for the episode and saying, "Mighty? Who's he?" Well, you see, he's actually one of the official Chaotix (the other being Knuckles) who Sonic Team dumped; Mohawk will address this later and his words are much my own. I know that you're all begging for me to do your favorite characters next, but the deal is that I want to get through all the Chaotix first. That's this episode and next (since you'll still have Espio to look forwards to after this). Don't you fret, though, I'll get around to all those family favorites. I mean, heck, I'm just getting started here!
I don't own Mighty. As much as it is likely that I could buy or steal him from Sega (I mean, after all, they've forgotten that he ever existed by now) and I would like to own the right to his name, I probably can't afford him. (Oh yeah, doesn't Archie have rights on his name or something? I know he's in their comics...) Professor Ken is mine, Mohawk's on loan from 'One-Page-A-Month' Tom, my unprolific sibling, and enough about me, let's get on to the main course!
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Broadcast Ten: Mighty
Darth Mohawk stepped out onto the stage's side, grinning widely. Suddenly he stopped, the smile falling from his face. Cautiously he looked up into the rafters, craned his head around a little, frowned, and then continued to saunter out into the middle of the stage.
Just as he was about to take his seat in the middle of the room, the rich entrepreneur suddenly leapt to the side. Another sandbag came crashing down from the rafters, missing him by inches. It had not yet hit the ground when Mohawk whirled around and held up his fists in a fighting stance.
Narrating from the side of the stage, Ken announced, "Ready… GO!"
Mohawk fell upon the sandbag like VP Tom on campaign funding. He began whaling on the heavy bag with his fists with a whamwhamwham, giving it several hard jabs and a few uppercuts, making it jiggle and bounce. He headbutted it a few times, kicked it once or twice, and sledged into it with his shoulders and elbows.
"Five!" exclaimed Ken, leaning forwards to watch. "Four!"
With a cry like a wild animal, Mohawk pulled out his heavy wallet and began smacking the sandbag in a flurry with it.
"Three! Two!"
"RAAAAARRGHH!" Mohawk reeled backwards, hands sparking with electricity, as he prepared for his finale.
"One!"
"BUY MY STUFF!!!" Mohawk plunged both hands into the sandbag, torrenting a massive amount of Sith Lightning into it. With a loud SCREE-EE the sandbag went flying out of the studio at a forty-five degree angle, mashing a huge hole through the corner of the building as it screamed out off into the distance.
Ken leaned forwards and squinted as he began counting its footage. "One, two, three, four, five, fifty-five hundred… fifty-eight hundred feet!"
Mohawk jumped high into the air. "Woohoo! A new record!" He grinned and gave the crowd a thumbs-up. "Welcome back to the show! Wasn't that great?"
The crowd responded with moderate enthusiasm.
Ken frowned. "Well, I—"
"Shaddap," hissed Mohawk. "That missile launcher was cheating! You know that the bigger half of that sandbag landed at fifty-seven!"
"Yeah, from fifty-seven to six thousand," said Ken, frowning.
"Anyways, back to the show!" declared Mohawk, beaming again. "Today's guest is an incredibly obscure character who appeared only in one very obscure game that not even I have played. Believe it or not, they chose to dump this guy for Sonic Heroes instead of several vastly more retarded characters I would be happy to never see or play as again…" His voice dropped off a little. "Whatever they were smoking, I want some…" His voice then returned to its normal tone. "The CDA's very own Unknown Agent, Mighty the Armadillo!"
The armadillo calmly walked in from stage left and sat down in the chair Mohawk provided. Mighty looked bored and rather disinterested, with his hands clasped together under his head.
"So, Mighty…" Darth Mohawk began, pulling out his notecards from within his robes. "Word gets out that you're pretty, well…"
"Mighty?" offered the armadillo, smiling faintly.
"Yeah. And, how…" Mohawk paused and pressed a hand to his head, sighing. "No, that's too corny even for me… so how strong are you, exactly?"
Mighty hopped down out of his seat, reached out underneath Mohawk's chair, and lifted the entire thing, Mohawk included, over his head without so much as flinching—with one hand.
"Okay! Okay! Really, really strong!" Darth Mohawk squeaked. "Put me down!"
Might shrugged and placed Mohawk's chair back on the ground. He then retook his seat.
"Now, with all that strength of yours, you must've really provided all the muscle in your group, right?" asked Mohawk, cracking his knuckles.
Mighty shook his head. "Yes, but no. I'm not into the whole 'breaking kneecaps' thing. I use my strength for peaceful purposes, not for brash, instinctive brawling. There is plenty enough of that in the CDA."
"So you're a pacifist?" inquired Mohawk auspiciously.
The armadillo nodded. "Yes."
"Oh. Well, that's cool." Mohawk frowned. "Not fun, but cool…"
"It is gratifying in its own way," Mighty assuaged.
Mohawk smiled and flipped to his next card. "Which brings us to the question—are you still with the CDA?"
"Of course I am," said Mighty, raising an eye ridge. "Who wouldn't I be?"
"Because Sonic Team seems to be denying your very existence," said Darth Mohawk flatly. "You have not been in ANY of their games, not just as a playable character, but not at ALL, not even in any of the CDA scenes."
"I am in all of those scenes," Mighty insisted. "It's just that either I'm just off-screen, or I'm guarding the entrances. If you heard any odd whumping sounds, those were probably me doing my job."
"Sorry, there weren't any whumping sounds," said Mohawk, frowning. "I guess they didn't resonate through the walls… really, though, did you offend some snooty high-up game designer with your pacifistic ways? I mean, seriously, they chose Big over you. Big, the retarded fat cat. I'm sorry to say that even Tails is cooler than that lardball, and you two can't even be spoken of in the same sentence."
Mighty's expression darkened. "Some things… I would rather not talk about. It is not often I feel compelled to do society a favor through violence."
An apprehensive looked dawned on Mohawk. "Oooooooh… I see. Well, I won't press any further there. It's just sad how the people responsible for such a great game series can be so retarded as to deny your existence. They're all idiots, the lot of them."
The entrepreneur paused. "So, do you have anything else to say?"
"Not really."
"Okayyyy…" Darth Mohawk frowned. "Well, we still have a little airtime left… oh, I know!" He snapped his fingers. "Mighty, your last major appearance was on the… on one of those old-timey Sega systems, the Genesis or something, right?"
Mighty nodded. "Yes."
"How do you think these modern games compare up to the old ones?"
The armadillo looked pensive for a moment. "Well… better graphics in the new ones, actual plotlines… the older games were usually harder, with more concentration on playing the game rather than seeing cutscenes… I gotta say, you can't beat the originals though."
"Greatest game of all time?" Mohawk asked.
"Knuckles and the Chaotix!" Mighty chuckled. "No, no. Simply because I was in it doesn't mean that it was the greatest. The greatest game of the series… I'd have to say Sonic 3 and Knuckles, personally. I mean, I played it, and it was pretty good."
Darth Mohawk twitched slightly. "Did you hear that? Sounded like the fourth wall breaking… which can only mean one thing…"
"What?" Mighty asked.
"Copyright lawyers!" Mohawk screamed, jumping up to his feet. "Run for yourLIIII—"
A huge mass of people in black business suits began pouring in from the sides of the stage. "Violation! Violation! You're violating the terms of your script!" the lawyers screamed, lunging at Mohawk with heavy black briefcases swinging.
"Back!" Darth Mohawk pulled out his tripled-bladed lightsaber and activated all three blades, swinging them around in a wild blur of blue plasma. "Back, you fiends, back! I stand to make no money from this—"
The lawyers fell upon him. There were heavy whumps and the constant drone of localized plasma as briefcases met blades. More lawyers poured in from behind the backdrop, waving around papers and briefcases, as a giant brawl began to develop.
"This has been the ninth—shades of the Great Ones, copyright lawyers!" Professor Ken drew his pistols and began firing into the melee, speaking as he gunned down lawyers. "This has been—the tenth episode—please rejoin us—once we finish this battle!"
A lawyer then noticed the camera. "Hey, you're not allowed to be reading this! It's contraband mate—"
The camera went out with a loud BANG as the lawyer was shot down.
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Yeah, like none of you saw that one coming, huh? Well, it had to happen eventually, you know. Give reviews, praise, constructive criticism, requests, whatever as you see fit. Until next time, I've gotta go. Those copyright lawyers aren't going to beat themselves up, you know!