Disclaimer: The definiton of a disclaimer, as according to is"a repudiation or denial of responsibility or connection;a renunciation of one's right or claim." Therefore, you and I both know the purpose of me taking the time to type "disclaimer" in bold letters at the beginning of this thrid installment of this crossover story making fun of characters from different stories which are not my own, is to tell you that I am obviously making fun of characters from different stories which are not my own. Hence, I do not own anything in this story. I do not even own the chez lounge with jet propellors. That belongs to the prop department in the stock room of the Fanfiction Headquarters.
Author's Note: Um... wow. I had meant to update this much sooner. It had been sitting in my notbook for about two weeks, screaming "update me! update me!" It is not a good sound, the exhortive screams of a thrid fanfiction chapter locked in a notebook. Not a nice sound at all. Anyway, here is the first official battle scene smackdown. I'm curious to see if you guys liked the ending. It was a tough call, believe me, but I heard a few reviewers' opinions and decided to stick with them. So, please tell me if you liked the ending. Besides, it will give you an excuse to review me! Ah, I'm so desperate.
Christine was first to make a hit. She advanced and made a swoop with her right fist at her opponent. Evey ducked, and punched her in the stomach. Christine doubled over in pain. Now Evey had spent a considerable amount of time with V, who was of sorts a terrorist mastermind with a taste for dramatics. V had a way of waiting till the exact opportune moment to strike: the Domino Effect. He had taught her well. But Christine had angelic looks and innocent charm on her side. Christine clutched her stomach and fell to the ground, groaning and shaking. Evey's team let out a cheer. Evey crossed her arms and grinned smugly.
"I told you I could whoop your hind in under a minute." Christine waited till Evey was close enough to hive her a strong kick in the nose with her ballet slippered-heel. Evey yelped, stumbling back. Christine jumped up, flipped her long golden mane, sending off a charismatic wave which knocked Evey off her feet. She landed on her back with an "oof".
"What now, cracker? What now!" Christine shrieked victoriously.
Evey slowly got up, and tilted her neck from side to side, causing it to make the most unsettling popping and cracking noise. It was the sort of thing that all the villainesses did when fighting the blonde in Charlie's Angels. Pretty gross, actually.
"You ain't seen nothing yet," Evey chuckled, cracking her knuckles. The two women circled each other slowly. The crowd was going wild with excitement.
"I haven't seen this kind of fight since the battle of Legolas vs. Will Turner in the summer of 2003!" one reader cried.
"England against France," another rubbed her hands together, "this is gonna be good."
Christine gave Evey a drop-kick, but Evey blocked it with her arm and twisted it, sending Christine spinning off like a horizontal top.
"Hit her with the chair!" Madame Giry yelled.
"I don't have a chair!" Christine replied despairingly.
Author pulled out a guidebook and started flipping through it. "Let's see… maintenance… emergency calls… medical stations… Singaporean polka tunes…. Ah! Accessories," she flipped a couple of pages, "here we are. Chairs," she sent two lounge chairs down into the ring.
Christine ran and tried to pick up the massive plush chez lounge. "Do you have anything smaller?"
"Sorry." Author shrugged.
Evey pounced on the La-Z-Boy™ recliner complete with a drink holder and massage controls, and tried to pick it up. She tried several positions and angels, once trying to lift it by the arms, another time hugging it around the back. Weary, she decided to sit down and rest on its plush leather seat, panting. Christine was making an attempt to roll her chez lunge at Evey, in hopes of it somehow crushing the British young woman. However, chez lounges are not round, therefore cannot be rolled, so all the couch-like chair really did was flop over on its side menacingly.
Evey clicked the "massage" button. "Ooh! Simulated rolling effects! Nice…" she looked at a few more buttons, before noticing a big, shiny, red one. "Missile launch?" Evey pressed it. Two missiles came out of the arms and zoomed straight towards Christine, who shrieked and ducked behind the side of the chez lounge. The missiles wound up hitting the thing on its bottom bulk, almost destroying it, but still leaving it intact. Christine remained unharmed.
"Cool!" Evey clapped her hands frivolously.
Christine, enraged, searched frantically for any cool red buttons on her chair. Alas, she only found one, entitled "jet propulsion". When she pushed it, jets came out of the back legs, and, with Christine still hanging on, flew rapidly at Evey The chez lounge sort of scooped up Evey as well, acting as its own self-destructing missile. Evey and Christine clung to each other and screamed as the chez torpedo rounded about and swooped down at the recliner, exploding with a great "FWOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!"
The audience was silent, sitting on the edge of their seats. Erik and V were at the ropes, craning their necks to see if either one was alive. A terrible silence sat heavy on the Arena de Nike for what seemed like hours. Raoul began to weep girlishly, until Meg bashed him on the back of the head with a Carlotta.
"Ooh!" a reader clapped, "I love a good Raoul bashing!"
"Have you reviewed yet?"
Suddenly, a dirty hand emerged from the rubble. The audience, Author, and all the characters leaned forward, and held their breaths. Christine slowly hoisted herself up out of the debris, her hair looking somewhat like the bride of Frankenstein's. All of the Opera characters let out a joyous cheer. Christine held a fist in the air. But once she was out, a few rocks shifted behind her feet, and a charred hand clawed out behind her. The Vendetta characters erupted in cheers and applause.
Author flipped again through her guidebook. "Well, the chairs are detonated, so let's try… sharp things!" she sent two weapons down into the arena, which landed on opposite sides of the ring. The two disheveled young women ran to go get each one. Evey ran to one corner, and produced a chainsaw. She revved it up with a crazy gleam in her eye, cackling evilly over the buzzing of her tool of torture. Christine stepped back, terrified, and reached down for her weapon; she produced a cute little electric shaver, which buzzed cheerily.
"Why do I get all the lame weapons?" Christine whined, but didn't have time to get an answer, for Evey lunged at her with her chainsaw, shrieking like a psycho banshee leprechaun. Christine ducked, circumvented her opponent, and with one last screech jumped on her back and made her attack.
The audience gasped in terror as Evey dropped the chainsaw and tried to push the ballerina off her back, but the damage had already been done. Christine had shaved Evey's curly brown locks off her head, making her unattractively bald.
"Nnnnnnnnoooooooooooo…" Evey moaned, crumpling in a heap to the ground. Christine dismantled her opponent, breathing heavily.
"I told you," she panted, "I was the better character."
Evey ran her hands over her smooth head, and glowered up at her slowly. "My turn."
"That's my line," V sulked.
Christine backed away slowly. Author decided- in the spirit of the Wachowski Brothers- to press the "slo-mo" button on the arm of her throne. In a cool Matrix-esque motion, Evey grabbed her chainsaw, cool-wind-swishy wave things trailing behind her, and swiftly ran its whirring blade through Christine's neck. Erik roared in fear, and tired to run to save his Angel of Music, but V held him back. Christine's magnificent blonde head fell slowly to the ground, bouncing a little bit. Evey let out a Xena-Warrior-Princess cry, and revved the chainsaw zealously. Raoul burst into tears, Carlotta applauded, until Meg picked her up and began bashing Raoul with her. Author had forgotten she left the slo-mo button still on, and pressed it again to deactivate it.
"Wow! That was some game! I guess- due to the circumstances- Evey is the champion!"
The bell dinged, and the ring was lowered. Evey's team- both antagonists and misunderstood protagonists- ran to her, and lifted her on their shoulders, cheering. Erik was tearfully trying to stick Christine's head back on her motionless, decapitated body. Raoul stood nearby, nursing his wounds, sniveling.
"Don't worry, Erik," Author called, "I'll call the medics. They'll sew her up, and- despite a few scars- she'll be as good as new."
Author pressed a button, and a few people all resembling characters from the Wizard of Oz came out with surgeon masks and a stretcher. The Scarecrow, Tinman, and Lion loaded the body onto the stretcher, and Dorothy yanked the head out of Erik's hands, stashing it in her picnic basket and skipping off merrily back into the shadows from whence she came.
"I think." Author added.
