Summary: The popular band Pentakill visits a small town and the musicians decide to give a concert for their fans there. Food providers all across town send their employees to the stadium where the concert takes place in order to cash in on the gathering of some many potential customers in one place. Things don't go as planned.
*Step, step, step*
Pizza Delivery Sivir does her best to balance a dozen or so white pizza boxes in her arms as she makes her way towards the crowded football field that's located near the edge of town. The panting brunette keeps her eyes glued to the circular structure as she pants and huffs from exhaustion. Sweat starts beading across Sivir's forehead from the strain of carrying all those pizza boxes to the stadium on foot. Where was her beloved motorbike when she needed it? Of course the damn thing had to break down yesterday, why wouldn't it?
The sound of loud music reverberating against her eardrums shortly brings Sivir back to the realm of reality. The unnerving pulsating of the pavement beneath the delivery woman's feet having become a simple annoyance at this point of time, since Sivir had been steadily approaching the quaking stadium for about ten minutes now.
The popular metal band Pentakill had for some reason decided to include the little town of Bassfield in their list of stops during the band's long trip to the Guitar Arena up north for the upcoming Rock-ED competition. Being a cunning businessman, and well-versed in the ways of exploiting situations to his advantage, Sivir's boss had ordered her and some of her unfortunate coworkers to bring a few pizzas to the crowded stadium where the band had decided to entertain the town with their music.
The plan was quite simple: Sivir and co. just had to take advantage of the townsfolk's enthusiasm over Pentakill's unexpected concert to overcharge every slice of pizza they would manage to sell to the band's loyal fans.
'Everything was fair in love and sales,' or at least that's what Sivir's employer had proclaimed.
The sound of screeching vocals and deafening drums could be heard coming from the direction of the football field from miles away as Sivir slowly made her way to the circular structure. Only a few minutes now, and the delivery woman would be rid of the weight of her numerous pizza boxes! Sivir would then sell the unhealthy food to some applauding teenagers and overly-excited hardcore Pentakill fans, and then be free to enjoy the concert herself under the pretense of her running late due to her searching for hungry customers.
Sivir dully wondered how many of her underpaid coworkers would use that same excuse to relax and take a long-deserved break from running all over town delivering pizzas.
The panting brunette had nearly reached the moderate stadium's gates when the sight of a competitor makes Sivir abruptly stop dead in her tracks. The delivery girl's eyes snap wide open in alarm, staring at her new sells-rival over the dangerously tilting stack of plain pizza boxes.
"First bite approaches." Leona drawls.
A quiet confrontation of wills begins as the two opponents stare down at one another to the sound of Pentakill's superb music scores. Both food providers wait in silence. Neither one of them seemingly inclined to back down from the imminent confrontation and casually accept defeat. Neither one of them willing to risk upsetting their tyrannical employers by forfeiting their stadium sales.
The stack of pizza boxes is carefully set on the ground as the determined delivery girl cracks her neck from side to side and removes a single pepperoni pizza from the stack's top box.
Her opponent glares at her seethingly while slamming her long fork to the operating grill that she apparently uses as a makeshift shield.
The auburn-haired cook spits on the ground in front of Sivir. The Delivery girl tsks in distaste.
And then as one, both Sivir and Barbecue Leona, charge at each other with challenging battle cries spilling from their lips and their bodies surging forward with the promise of bloodshed.
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Leona's charge abruptly turns into a violent spin as the auburn-haired cook thrusts her long fork at the presumptuous pizza girl, the red, grilled sausage hooked on the fork's pointy end becoming a scarlet blur of rapid movement. Sivir ducks low and attempts to slap Leona with the pepperoni pizza she holds in her hand, only for Leona to sidestep the attack, dodging the blow effortlessly.
Both opponents pivot on the balls of their feet, swinging their chosen weapons at one another at the same time.
*Slam*
The iron fork and the round disk of the pizza collide, meat juice and pieces of food falling off the sausage pinned at the tip of the long fork and grease spilling forth from Sivir's pepperoni pizza. The two enemies seize each other up with their stares while circling each other. Anger boiling in their heads, greed dancing in their eyes.
The bitter sales rivals are about to launch their respective attacks when a shiny silver object -something between a serving platter and a food tray- hits Sivir on the back of the head instantly knocking her out. Like a broken puppet the unconscious woman falls on the floor, red streaks of pepperoni dramatically sliding off her pizza…
"Feel my tray." A sultry voice hisses venomously.
Leona doesn't have the time to celebrate the demise of the pizza girl since the next moment the same silver platter that had taken Sivir out of the fight shoots towards the auburn-haired cook's surprised face.
Leona blocks the hit with her grill-shield and attempts to counterattack with her fork only for a thrown apple pie to unexpectedly hit her in the face, momentarily blinding her and rendering her incapable of defending from her opponent's next attack. Morgana cackles evilly as her silver platter knocks out the defenseless auburn-haired cook in a single strike that echoes ominously despite the loud music.
"Serve in my torment!" The fallen angel laughs mockingly.
The baking queen is still in the process of checking her platter for new dents, and dusting off her long purple mittens when a hulking form suddenly emerges from the nearby bushes. And those were some really TALL bushes, mind you. Even Morgana was currently wondering why nobody had bothered trimming them before they reached that state. What was the town's mayor doing with the taxpayers' money!
The man –if one could even call the baking queen's next adversary that- was a stone-faced gargoyle that's wearing a flabby chicken suit, his weapon of choice appearing to be a set of fried chicken drumsticks.
"Crunch!" The construct exclaims.
Before Morgana can catch her breath, one of the drumsticks races towards her chest. Crunchy flesh spiraling down to spell her doom. Grease flashing in front of her like oily lightning.
The baking queen has barely enough time to raise her platter and deflect the attack before the drumstick's twin sibling comes crushing down on her unguarded shoulder.
Time seems to slow down as the golden crust of Galio's drumstick makes contact with the baking queen's clothes. Fragrant pieces of crunchy goodness bouncing off Morgana's shoulder in slow motion, lazily spinning and hovering quietly in the air much like stardust being suspended in deep space.
Morgana's eyes, wide in disbelief, follow the trajectory of the scattered morsels during that long moment, staring dumbfounded at the clear trail of cooking oil left behind on her dress at the point of contact witch Galio's deadly drumstick. The suspended second stretches thin then. The baking queen's eyes narrowing in silent fury as Morgana takes a few steps back and calms down her breathing.
The fallen angel takes a quick breath of fresh air and stands with her serving tray held loosely near the ground. All of Morgana's muscles preparing for Galio's next attack. The masquerade warrior regards the strange woman with confusion even as Morgana slowly gestures for the stone-faced mascot to attack her by coiling and straightening her fingers.
Once again the unsung guardian of Azir's junk food chain swings his drumsticks at the baking queen of Bassfield. Morgana parries the first blow with her serving tray, instantly stepping into Galio's guard to slam an elbow against his granite stomach. The scornful woman's attack seems to cause more damage to Morgana herself, however than the costumed gargoyle that continues swinging at the female baker with his trusty drumsticks of flavor.
Morgana dances away from Galio's wild swings, using her platter to parry some of the blows while delivering her own ineffective attacks whenever the opportunity presents itself. Galio however doesn't ease on his assault and before long Morgana is left groaning on the ground, smeared with grease and fat, utterly defeated.
A swooshing sound of movement is the only warning the costumed gargoyle gets before a sashimi knife descends towards his face. Galio parries the lightning-quick stab with one of his drumsticks, only for a series of speedy attacks to be unleashed upon the sturdy gargoyle as a result.
With unmatched precision and unimaginable speed Akali stabs, slashes and chops at the hulking fast food mascot, her glinting sashimi knife leaving slash marks across Galio's drumsticks, damaging the mascot's makeshift clubs and chipping off pieces of their golden flesh in the process.
"Hesitation is the seaweed of defeat." Akali states flatly whilst attacking.
As the defending gargoyle hastily retreats in order to avoid the worst of Akali's onslaught of speedy slashes, he accidentally stumbles on a discarded soda bottle on the floor, briefly losing his footing. The sushi expert twists her entire body narrowly avoiding his wild swing as she dexterously jolts the edge of her cooking knife towards the recovering fast food employee.
Once again in slow motion, the deadly tip of the cook's wickedly-sharp blade skips across the crunchy fried flesh of Galio's parrying drumstick in a sideway motion, carving a long line against the drumstick's roundish surface the blade continues its lethal course. The very tip of the sashimi knife lightly biting into Galio's, hard cheek creating a thin scratch against the gargoyle's grey face.
Wisely, Galio disengages with a mighty flap of his wings that compels the sushi chef to retreat to a safe distance to avoid being hit by Birdio's fake plumage.
"Bring it on!" The confident voice of an, as of yet, unidentified individual rings from the sky above Galio and Akali, causing the two opponents to jump back, narrowly avoiding the overhead strike of the new challenger.
Shish Kebab King Jax flourishes his gigantic skewer masterfully, spilling hot meat juice across the floor as he adopts his signature battle stance. Akali and Galio share a quick look before preparing their own weapons and steeling their resolves.
"Who wants a piece of the Kebab?!" Jax taunts his competitors.
The three combatants draw in a deep breath and leap forward to the sound of Pentakill's music.
Meat juice, spicy sauce and the occasional grain of rice raining down on the stained pavement.