Author's Note: Aaaand here are your favorite grumpy old man preds! You know you missed them and their shenanigans.

Disclaimer: We own Glaw and Torkel, but not the original Pred designs. Happy?

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The Big, The Bad, and the Lame

Torkel stared intently at the screen, focused on the images flashing before him. Glaw huffed, grumpily fidgeting in his seat. Finally losing his already limited patience, Glaw slammed down his fist. "Damn it all, Torkel, will you tell me where we're going! We've been sitting here for hours!"

Torkel didn't even bother to look up. "Oh, calm down. You shouldn't get too excited, or you'll rupture something. I think I've got a few leads on where to look for good prey."

This statement automatically pleased Glaw. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go! Give me a course to set!"

Torkel took it upon himself to set in some coordinates, allowing the ship to find its way to the signals being broadcast. There, they would find some good potential. Leaning back in his seat, Torkel thought to himself that something was just the slightest bit off with what he'd seen, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

Shrugging it off, he settled in to watch the screen some more. The Oomans put very strange things on their frequencies.

"Say, Glaw, look at this! There is some older Ooman female with many males! She must be very strong indeed to have so many fawning over her. But, wait! Look! Some younger female has come in on her! The young one… seems to be challenging the old one? What cheek!"

The screen he'd been watching so intently froze, then faded to black with some strange, swirly writing on it, before moving on to other moving images. Torkel threw his hands in the air, growling in frustration. "How could they? I wanted to watch the old one beat down the young upstart! There's never a good fight when you want one!"

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Glaw gazed on at the fight taking place, less than impressed with what he was watching. He shot an angry look at Torkel, then back to the area where the two bulky looking Oomans were duking it out.

"WHAT is this farce you've brought me to, Torkel? Those males aren't even hitting each other!"

Torkel peered closer, then crossed his arms. "Well, it certainly looked more impressive from a distance."

They both watched as one burly male in less than adequate gear charged the other and beat him with a folded piece of metal.

Snorting derisively, Glaw tried to contain his laughter. "They call THAT a hit? I could have taken that guy's head off with that contraption!"

Torkel actually let out a chortle as the male who'd taken the hit with the metal thing bounced off the rubbery containment straps into the other one.

"I admit, this didn't work out quite as well as I had hoped. These are HARDLY able prey. I mean, look at that move! What would that even accomplish in a real fight? All bulk and no skill. Tsk."

A few oomans had looked their way when Torkel had laughed, so both of them slid away, back to their ship on the roof of the building.

As Glaw took his seat, Torkel adjusted the controls for new coordinates.

Torkel was quick to reassure his longtime partner. "Don't worry, these next ones will be great, I'm certain!"

Glaw gripped the controls tightly, trying not to punch Torkel. The two lifted off and left the silliness of ooman entertainment behind them.

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Torkel shifted uneasily. This DEFINITELY wasn't what he'd been expecting. The fighters circled each other slowly, watching carefully. Then, they lunged at each other, grunting and groaning, trying to force the other back.

Shooting an uneasy glance at Glaw, Torkel winced at his friend's posture. Glaw only stood like that, arms crossed, head down, when he was VERY angry. Torkel surreptitiously stepped away, giving himself a little more room in case he needed to dodge.

"Torkel."

"Yes, Glaw?"

Glaw rounded on him with a roar that startled a few nearby Oomans. "WHAT IS THIS?"

Torkel gestured towards the ring where one monstrously sized male had finally been pushed out of the small, circular ring. "Well, they ARE of a very impressive size…"

Glow stomped towards Torkel, hands waving. "AND THAT'S ALL! They aren't even DYING after losing the match! And that is FAR too much of a Oomans anatomy to see! I'll never sleep again!"

Torkel was already heading back to the ship, leaving the heaving, battling masses of alien flesh to their sport. "Well, I'm sure you'll be fine eventually."

They clambered into the ship and Glaw practically threw his helmet at Torkel. The lankier one barely managed to avoid being clocked in the head. Glaw picked up another object to hurl. "HOW DID YOU EVEN FIND THESE FARCES?"

Torkel pointed to the still blaring screen. "Well, you see, I thought that whatever Oomans were on these frequencies were important. Oomans all around this planet observe these few battling each other with great interest. So, I thought that they must be important! See?"

Glaw stopped for a moment, thought on this logic, and grudgingly set down the box he'd been about to throw. "It makes sense, I guess. Maybe we can use that idea still, just not like that."

Enthusiastic at Glaw's unusually calm reception of his schemes, Torkel plopped back down in his chair, flipping through the frequencies quickly. "Perhaps we can find some other sort of battle! One with REAL fighters."

Glaw took the ship back up past the atmosphere of the planet, waiting patiently for Torkel to finish his sweep.

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Glaw slouched in his seat, fussing with his burner. He would look up at Torkel occasionally, then back down. After a few hours of mindlessly puttering around the ship, Glaw poked Torkel in the arm. "Hey, are you done yet?"

Torkel brushed off the poke easily. "Not quite, there is still some data I require."

Groaning, Glaw flopped back down in his seat. "Just hurry it up, will you? I'm getting stiff just sitting up here."

"Yes, yes, you and your joints."

Glaw was aimlessly poking through one of the bins on the ship when he heard Torkel shouting. Charging to the front, he finally heard clearly what Torkel was saying.

"WHAT? That CAN'T be the end! That young thing stole that male from the older one! Cheat! Thief! Scoundrel! Where is the beat down? Alejandro, why?"

Glaw took in his partners shouts, then slowly marched forward, leaning over the seat Torkel was in. Torkel froze.

"Torkel."

"Yes, Glaw?"

"What are you doing?"

"…Research?"

Letting out a howl of rage, Torkel dodged a fist aimed for his head. Glaw chased Torkel about the ship, cursing his friend. "You nitwit! You've lost us hours of time with your senseless viewing! What do you have to SAY for youself?"

"This is bad on my knee and it wants you to stop chasing me with a spear!"

"Weakling!"

A short time later, they were both panting, a bit winded from their wild chase. Glaw tossed the spear away and dragged Torkel to the front of the ship. Torkel gulped in air and sighed. "Maybe… Maybe we should wait a little bit before we go looking for more prey. You know, to verify coordinates."

Glaw nodded, closing his eyes. "Yes. Good idea."

Soon enough, both of them were snoozing soundly in their seats, the sounds of the ooman broadcasts yattering in the background.

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End Author's Note: Can YOU guess what Torkel was watching? Just a genre, not a specific show. Guess! Guess!