Cid Battles: Event two
After a strong victory due to Cid Highwind's angry actions, the non hero accompanying Cids plan hard for whatever the next competition is.
Cid FF7: Ok, losers. We'll let you draw the next event out of the hat.
Cid FF6: ::reaches in hat and looks at paper:: Oh great, the 200 yard dash.
200 yard dash: In this competetion, each group must select one person to race against the other group.
Cid FF7: ::looks at the Cid FF9 and Cid FF4:: Heh, no way you old timers are doing this.
Cid FF9: What?! I have more speed than you could imagine, Highwind. Please! Let me do it!
Cid FF7: $#&$! You old fool! You'll pass out!
Cid FF9: We'll let you decide who should do it ::points to Cid FF4::
Cid FF4: Leave this one to the regent, Highwind.
Cid FF7: What the?! #$%#!
Cid FF9: ::psst:: (Heh, good work, Cid) ::hands Cid FF4 200 gil::
With the other Cids:
Cid FF8: Ok, I'm out of shape, and getting old. I don't know if I can handle 200 yards.
Cid FF6: I'm old too, but you know what it means if we can't do it....::looks at Cid FF5::
Cid FF5: I wonder if a snake can run 200 yards....I mean, where's its feet?
Cid FF8: I see your point. ::sigh:: But we have no choice. Besides, he's like someone on a caffine rush anyway, it's possible he can win.
Cid FF6: Well, we could use a victory here. ::to Cid FF5:: Hey! Get ready, you're gonna run this!
Cid FF5: Me? If you say so, but I don't have decent running shoes on.
Cid FF8: Can I hit him before we start?
Cid FF6: Wouldn't help.
Back to the others:
Cid FF7: C'mon, regent. Get to the starting point!
Cid FF9: Ok, geez!
Cid FF4: ::sees Cid FF5 going to the starting point:: That's who they picked?
Cid FF7: Alright over there! You guys ready to lose!
Cid FF8: ::from the distance:: You're going down, Highwind!
Cid FF6: ::sigh:: And you're the headmaster of an acadamy?
Cid FF8: Shut up, the race is starting!
Cid FF7: C'mon regent, don't just jog!
Cid FF4: Oh crap, he's falling behind!
Cid FF8: That's the way, Cid! Use that psycho energy of yours!
Cid FF7: #%$@! That's the fastest you can go?
Cid FF6: I can't believe it, we may actually win this!
Cid FF8: Maybe he's not a total screw off.
Cid FF7: USE SOME SPEED! RUN DAMN YOU, RUN!
In the race:
Cid FF9: Crap! I'm gonna lose this one! Highwind will never let me live this down.
Cid FF5: WHEEEE! I RUN LIKE THE WIND! I'M FASTER THAN A CHOCOBO! ::trips on a rock:: AND NOW I'M NOT IN THE LEAD.
Cid FF9: Luck's my friend today! ::continues on::
Back with the other Cids:
Cid FF7: YEAH! We've got this one! 7 more yards!
Cid FF4: See? I knew he could do it (Thank god for miracles).
Cid FF8: I....I....
Cid FF6: Easy there, headmaster. ::race ends, both Cids return::
Cid FF7: Well, I'll give ya credit, old man. You made the 200 yards.
Cid FF9: Yeah, but I'm gonna be feeling leg pain for weeks.
Cid FF8: THAT'S TWO YOU COST US! TWO! HOW'D YOU EVER BUILD AN AIRSHIP WHEN YOU DON'T EVEN LOOK WHERE YOU'RE RUNNING! #@#% IDIOT!
Cid FF6: I'm gonna need cider, and lots of it.
Cid FF5: Oooh? Like apple cider?
Cid FF6: Yeah....right. Apples....(and rum).
After a strong victory due to Cid Highwind's angry actions, the non hero accompanying Cids plan hard for whatever the next competition is.
Cid FF7: Ok, losers. We'll let you draw the next event out of the hat.
Cid FF6: ::reaches in hat and looks at paper:: Oh great, the 200 yard dash.
200 yard dash: In this competetion, each group must select one person to race against the other group.
Cid FF7: ::looks at the Cid FF9 and Cid FF4:: Heh, no way you old timers are doing this.
Cid FF9: What?! I have more speed than you could imagine, Highwind. Please! Let me do it!
Cid FF7: $#&$! You old fool! You'll pass out!
Cid FF9: We'll let you decide who should do it ::points to Cid FF4::
Cid FF4: Leave this one to the regent, Highwind.
Cid FF7: What the?! #$%#!
Cid FF9: ::psst:: (Heh, good work, Cid) ::hands Cid FF4 200 gil::
With the other Cids:
Cid FF8: Ok, I'm out of shape, and getting old. I don't know if I can handle 200 yards.
Cid FF6: I'm old too, but you know what it means if we can't do it....::looks at Cid FF5::
Cid FF5: I wonder if a snake can run 200 yards....I mean, where's its feet?
Cid FF8: I see your point. ::sigh:: But we have no choice. Besides, he's like someone on a caffine rush anyway, it's possible he can win.
Cid FF6: Well, we could use a victory here. ::to Cid FF5:: Hey! Get ready, you're gonna run this!
Cid FF5: Me? If you say so, but I don't have decent running shoes on.
Cid FF8: Can I hit him before we start?
Cid FF6: Wouldn't help.
Back to the others:
Cid FF7: C'mon, regent. Get to the starting point!
Cid FF9: Ok, geez!
Cid FF4: ::sees Cid FF5 going to the starting point:: That's who they picked?
Cid FF7: Alright over there! You guys ready to lose!
Cid FF8: ::from the distance:: You're going down, Highwind!
Cid FF6: ::sigh:: And you're the headmaster of an acadamy?
Cid FF8: Shut up, the race is starting!
Cid FF7: C'mon regent, don't just jog!
Cid FF4: Oh crap, he's falling behind!
Cid FF8: That's the way, Cid! Use that psycho energy of yours!
Cid FF7: #%$@! That's the fastest you can go?
Cid FF6: I can't believe it, we may actually win this!
Cid FF8: Maybe he's not a total screw off.
Cid FF7: USE SOME SPEED! RUN DAMN YOU, RUN!
In the race:
Cid FF9: Crap! I'm gonna lose this one! Highwind will never let me live this down.
Cid FF5: WHEEEE! I RUN LIKE THE WIND! I'M FASTER THAN A CHOCOBO! ::trips on a rock:: AND NOW I'M NOT IN THE LEAD.
Cid FF9: Luck's my friend today! ::continues on::
Back with the other Cids:
Cid FF7: YEAH! We've got this one! 7 more yards!
Cid FF4: See? I knew he could do it (Thank god for miracles).
Cid FF8: I....I....
Cid FF6: Easy there, headmaster. ::race ends, both Cids return::
Cid FF7: Well, I'll give ya credit, old man. You made the 200 yards.
Cid FF9: Yeah, but I'm gonna be feeling leg pain for weeks.
Cid FF8: THAT'S TWO YOU COST US! TWO! HOW'D YOU EVER BUILD AN AIRSHIP WHEN YOU DON'T EVEN LOOK WHERE YOU'RE RUNNING! #@#% IDIOT!
Cid FF6: I'm gonna need cider, and lots of it.
Cid FF5: Oooh? Like apple cider?
Cid FF6: Yeah....right. Apples....(and rum).