Done!
Ta-da! Here she be! My first-ever one-shot that's actually gonna have more than one reader! lol XD
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Average Bob.
That?s what they all called him. He narrowed his brown eyes angrily. Today he?d show them. He?d show them all. They?d all leave saying ?Bob the League Master?. ?Master Bob?. He smirked, clearing his face with his trademark expression.
Round twelve of a fifteen-round endurance match and still going strong. He and his partners weren?t going anywhere but up. He cracked his knuckles and stood on the rectangular white area indicated by a referee. He set his feet fourteen inches apart, as he always did. He stared across the arena at his opponent, a kid called Billy. He smirked. The kid was confident; his stance casual, his green eyes staring purposefully back into his. They smirked at each other as the referee announced the rules they had agreed upon beforehand.
"Welcome to the twelfth round of the Orre League! This shall be a Pok?mon battle between Billy of Littleroot town in Hoenn," he stopped as the crowd began roaring, waiting until the cheering died down before he continued, "and Bob of Johto!"
More cheers, and a lot of laughter as the accursed name was thrown around the crowd, falling from the lips of the people and turning into acid as it fell in his ears. His smirk turned to a snarl, then disappeared as he clamped down on all emotion. His brown ponytail swished behind him as he turned his head back and forth, gauging his terrain. It appeared to be a normal cement-and-dirt arena, but there were some strange orbs on either side, six along each wall.
"This shall be a six-on-six match. Each inter-round shall be decided by a knockout. If one trainer has defeated three of his opponent?s Pok?mon without losing one of his own, he shall be declared the winner. This is a Random stadium, so please be advised. Begin the countdown!"
The ten-second timer began counting as Billy started the traditional taunting.
"Hey, Bobbo, I?m gonna paste ya!"
Bob smirked, but didn?t reply. He?d found that silence was a better taunt than anything he could speak was. Besides, he was trying to figure out what a ?random stadium? was.
Eight seconds left on the clock.
Billy looked uncertain, then obviously decided to keep with tradition. "Aw, you?re scared! Scaredy-cat!"
Billy must have been flustered; in all of Billy?s battles that Bob had seen, the kid had been extremely witty and creative with his taunting. The taunt was very traditional; it helped to discover who was inexperienced and who was more seasoned. The goal was to try to fluster or anger your opponent so much that they couldn?t think clearly. Billy had scored two wins on the muddled thinking of his opponents alone.
Bob looked up at the clock, putting a bored look on. Four seconds to launch.
Billy smirked, a cocky expression. His black eyebrows went down until they seemed to touch his eyes, while the corner of his mouth pulled back almost to his ear.
"What?s the matter, BOB? Afraid that you?re gonna lose to someone with a COOL name?"
The short young man held his gaze on the timer for one second before he lowered it to Billy?s. He said nothing; verbally, at least. His eyes, however, said one thing: Prepare to be afraid.
Billy cracked a smile and, as the timer hit ?zero?, grabbed a pok?ball off of his vest and threw it in one smooth motion. Bob smirked as his hand released his white-and-red sphere into its arch.
"GO! BLAZIKEN!"
Billy?s ball exploded in red light, the capsule releasing its contents before returning to his waiting hand. The reddish beast that emerged was almost six feet tall, with a beaked mouth and two slender arms ending in triple-clawed hands.
Its second most prominent features, and its most powerful weapons, were its long legs. They ended in triple-clawed feet, much like the hands. They were covered in red, shaggy feather-fur.
Its most prominent feature had little to no use in a battle, but it gave it the appearance of a lousy attempt at wings: long hair on the back of its head that was split into a boomerang shape.
This strange creature caused Bob to groan inwardly. Most of his Pok?mon were technically weak to the dual-type. He?d have to use strategy for this one.
He hated strategy.
His pok?ball erupted in light a mere half-second after Billy?s did, but the creature that emerged was decidedly less awe-inspiring. Fluttering gently on multi-colored wings, it had big blue eyes and a long proboscis. Its arms and feet were nonexistent, but the tiny paws contributed to its cuteness. It looked sternly at the Blaziken, its entire manner suggesting contempt for such an obnoxious entrance. Shaking itself once, it stopped glaring long enough to twitter at its trainer.
"Beeeauuuutifly!"
Bob smiled. "That?s right, Dexter, he isn?t very refined. And, he believes he can beat you, too."
The butterfly snorted once, or snorted as much as he could. He twittered again as he nonchalantly dodged a sudden attack coming from the bird opposite him, dancing around the stream of fire elegantly.
"Remember, Dex, this isn?t a contest. Flatten it with a Stun Spore!"
The bug spun around once and went skyward, his wings flapping rapidly as they released a cloud of glittering powder over the big biped. Billy snorted loudly and crossed his arms.
"Blaziken, show him why that was a dumb move."
The creature smirked, roared, and then, spinning around, it flung its arms skyward. Fire formed around its wrists, and then a ball of fire flew from them, morphing into a five-pointed star made of fire speeding right at the butterfly, all within seconds. It hit him dead center, leaving a cloud of burning spores drifting to the ground. A small form fell from it and hit the ground in a heap. The crowd began roaring again.
Bob had, by now, stuck his battling face on. Which meant no emotion got in or out. He still groaned inwardly as he recalled his Beautifly, but they didn?t get the satisfaction of hearing him. He thought his options over.
Fire was weak to water, and Fighting was weak to-he grinned.
Slowly, deliberately, he replaced Dexter?s pok?ball on his belt and grabbed one from the opposite side.
"Claudia! Go get ?im!"
With a reverberating call, a large bird-of-prey erupted from the black-yellow-and-white capsule, its brown-and-white feathers rustling with every move it made. Its curved beak opened in another piercing scream. Its massive wings beat the air as it began climbing into the sky.
"Blaziken! Jump and grab that bird!"
"Claudia, amscray!"
The red bird-creature crouched, then shot skyward almost too fast for the eye to follow.
The human eye, that is.
By the time the Blaziken got to where the bird had been, she was already behind him. Her wings began glowing, then she rammed him in the center of his back. He roared and dropped, managing, just barely, to squirm around and land on his feet. He roared and spun, looking for his attacker.
She was behind him again, her wings glowing again.
Billy, noticing the bird, yelled, "JUMP!"
That command finished the round, for instead of running him into the ground, Claudia only managed to hit him in the back of the legs. He used the impact to assist his backward summersault, while his arms began glowing again. As he hit the ground, he shot a river of fire at the Pidgeot, who was banking for another sweep. It hit her dead center, knocking her against the wall. She hit it and slid down to lie in a heap at the wall'? base.
Bob?s face twitched. Normally, his eagle-creature could have taken another hit or two, but, this being an endurance match, she was already weakened by her earlier battles. His smirk wasn?t there as he recalled her, his mind already agonizing over defeat.
"Whassa matter, BOB? Can?t take the heat?"
Bob shot a glare at his long, lean opponent. Then his mind caught up with him.
He laughed. And laughed, and laughed. The crowd stopped its noise in shock. This was the first time ever that he had laughed in a match, his entire mood usually being locked behind his expressionless face. Whispers about ?cracking up? and ?stress-induced mania? began fluttering around the stadium.
He straightened painfully, a cramp having formed in his side. He didn?t give a hoot.
He smirked, plucking a pok?ball from his belt. "I think today is gonna be a good one? For me!"
He spun the sphere on the tip of his index finger, then threw it up and plucked it from the air as it fell, his right arm now resting across his chest. He backhanded the ball towards his opponent and his Pok?mon, which was breathing raggedly, albeit not very.
"Go, Claps!"
A massive brown wad of muscle and energy bounced out of the pok?ball, its entire manner that of a nuclear generator: explosive and powerful. It stood about five feet, six inches tall, with the rounded body of a sumo wrestler. Its tiny feet and huge hands were in odd contrast, but the thick head attached directly to the rest of the body was somehow fitting. It slammed one huge fist into the other, then roared a challenge.
"HARRRRRRIYYYYAMA!"
As it finished, it slammed its fists together again, then spread them to its sides, ready to attack.
Bob smirked at Billy?s determined expression. If he had calculated correctly, he was going to win.
He?d realized that the only way the Blaziken could be this strong was if Billy hadn?t used him in any other battles. He?d remembered the two or three battles that the other trainer had won, and they had all been one with one Pok?mon apiece. He couldn?t remember the exact creatures, but it wasn?t worth thinking about. With only six Pok?mon and eleven battles, they had to be pretty pooped.
He grinned. He?d done almost the same thing, but he had gone with the more traditional way of battling; namely, switching his Pok?mon around to suit the opponent?s weaknesses. So, he had maybe two creatures that had seen no action, and the rest were equally tired.
Claps was one of the unused ones. Which made this all the more potent, the Blaziken having been damaged by its two previous opponents, while the massive, muscle-bound creature opposing it was undamaged and raring to go.
The earthbound bird roared in reply to Claps? challenge and shot forward, his powerful legs churning the ground into mud.
"What?!"
Billy?s questioning shout was elicited by the sudden appearance of moisture. It suddenly clicked in Bob?s head what a random stadium was: nothing less than a bunch of terrain types rolled into one giant building. He grinned; no matter what it would throw at him later, it was giving him and Claps the advantage.
The fiery bird suddenly dropped to one knee in the mud, which was steadily rising. Over the roaring crowd, Bob heard the announcer clearly yell, "Looks like Blaziken has been taken down by the sudden muddy assault from the Swamp Terrain setting! Will he recover enough to battle, or is this the end for this two-in-a-row winner?"
Bob felt a swell of professional impatience. Couldn?t they ban announcers from all matches? They always seemed to pick on the current winner.
He shook his head, burying that detail beneath the rest of the options swarming his mind. This was his chance.
"Claps! Seismic Toss!"
The massive fighter plowed through the by-now-swampland. Grabbing a tuft of grass perched on what appeared to be solid ground, he leaped up, preparatory to flying over and dropping down right in front of the fire-bird, which was starting to get exhausted by all the mud it had to wade through and its weakness to dampness.
Unfortunately for Claps, it wasn?t solid ground. Or maybe unfortunate for Blaziken.
Claps and the grass clump disappeared beneath the mud and standing water, only to reappear behind Blaziken. The wad of muscle grabbed the long-legged beast by the waist and, after spinning him around several times above his head, he slammed him into the mud.
Or rather, tried to slam him into the mud.
The giant bird had grabbed his wrists while he spun it around. When he raised his arms to slam it into the quagmire, it heated its entire body. When the heat hit Claps? hands, they reflexively twitched a little, just enough for it to rotate its entire body so that it stood on its hands above the massive head of its opponent. When Claps swung his arms down, it dropped over backwards and kicked Claps in the face. He jerked back, but it kept a strong grip on his wrists and began ramming him with its feet.
Was Bob worried about the fact that he could lose?
Nope.
"Claps, Attract!"
When Claps heard the rather bored sound of his trainer?s voice, he smirked and turned his eyes on the Blaziken. He made some suggestive remarks in pok?speak, as he and his trainer had worked tirelessly on.
The Blaziken screwed its face up as it tried to disengage from the apparently perverted beast it was fighting, but Claps merely reversed his wrists and grabbed Blaziken?s.
"Blaziken, use Flamethrower on the mud! Bake it!"
It flung its head around and opened it mouth preparatory to cooking the mud around it.
Claps let go of its wrists, giving it a mouthful of mud to choke on. He then grabbed the bird-like creature again and propped it upright.
"Claps, finish this with Arm Thrust."
Claps nodded once, then stood the still-sputtering Blaziken on its feet. Keeping one hand wrapped around the big biped, he drew the other back and waited for the other to clear its eyes.
"BLAZIKEN! JUMP!"
It heard the command, it crouched-
-And lost contact with the ground, the massive arms of Claps keeping him suspended above the ground. It cleared its eyes and mentally ordered it legs to shoot downward.
Then it saw the hand.
By a wonderful piece of good fortune, at least in Bob?s eyes, the red missile struck the announcer?s booth, collapsing one wall and sending the vile person flying out the side door.
Bob smirked as Billy ran toward the smashed structure. Things were looking up.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
After the referees swiftly decided that it was unintentional of Claps to send the Blaziken through the announcer?s stall, they declared it a knockout.
Billy was worried. He?d had it all sewn up until the blasted stadium floor had gone sour. He mentally listed his options.
Not many of those.
"Go, Espeon!"
The small, purple-furred creature emerged quietly from the capsule, its twin tails slowly weaving back and forth behind it. The jewels on its head glowed in a subdued fashion, while its catlike ears twitched gently.
All the silence told Billy how tired his Espeon was, for the Psychic-type was normally his most energetic partner, appearing from her ball bouncing and scurrying back and forth.
He sighed and yelled the first command, since Bob seemed content to allow him to make the first move.
"Espeon, use Psychic! Get him out of there and into the air!"
She nodded and swung her gaze to Claps, who was lounging chest-deep in the mud. Her eyes began glowing purple, and then it cried out and collapsed.
Claps, in a surprisingly quick movement, ducked under the mud and water. A surging wave told Billy where it was going: the small grass clump that his Espeon was on. He reached to his vest for her ball, but knew he wouldn?t get it in time.
Then the bow wave reached Espeon.
It passed her clump, causing her to bounce up and down. A massive head boiled out of the mud next to her clump, rising slowly, and, if Billy wasn?t sure it intended to attack, carefully.
Then it grabbed her in one massive fist.
Billy closed his eyes, not wanting to see the following attack. If the crowd wasn?t so loudly booing Claps and Bob, he would have at least tried to get it to let her go and still have the knockout?
Something touched his foot.
He opened his eyes and started at the huge face within a foot of his. Claps gestured at the ground and Billy looked down to see Espeon lying on his foot. He glanced back up, startled, to see the Hariyama moving back into the swamp, seeming to be enjoying the mud. He saw Bob nod respectfully at him from across the dank, dismal setting.
He laughed. Recalling Espeon, he set himself in his Hero pose, the one his fans adored. His feet set firmly on the ground exactly eighteen inches apart, he posted his hands on his hips and threw his shoulders back and his chest out. A sneer spread across his face, and then he said but one word. One word, very loud.
"LOSER!"
Bob?s smirk froze on his face and Claps suddenly jerked around to stare at him. He laughed again and, plucking a ball from his vest, threw it with all his might out over the swamp.
"I choose you, Banette!"
Out popped a dark gray biped with short arms and legs that looked almost interchangeable. It had what looked to be a nightcap on, but its main feature was the zipper that replaced its mouth.
Billy smirked, then stretched languidly. "Banette, deal with this."
It nodded, then smiled. Raising its arms above its head, it began humming calmly to itself as it began conjuring a dark mass above its head.
Then a bunch of mud struck it in the stomach, flinging it back at Billy.
He sighed as he belatedly remembered that Banette, being tired itself from a few battles, wasn?t going to be able to do its ghostly thing; namely, avoid physical attacks by dematerializing. At least, not quickly enough to keep from getting damaged.
He grimaced as he mentally noted to himself to avoid endurance matches in the future.
Meanwhile, Claps continued his mud barrage. Banette was clearly weakening, but it seemed content. Suddenly, the floor groaned beneath them, and then the orbs along the sides began glowing. Spray nozzles appeared everywhere, washing the mud down through gaping holes that materialized from out of nowhere.
It took just seconds for the swamp to get washed away, and then the arena dropped down, forming a hole for the water to collect. It was raining from holes in the stadium roof and from the nozzles, making it difficult to see. Billy finally decided that the rain was one of the obstacles here and was opening his mouth to tell Banette to use another Shadow Ball while Claps was distracted, but, with a groan, the deluge lightened and then stopped.
Leaving a pool of water where a swamp used to be, the gentle ripples formed by Claps? gentle bobbing interrupted only by some randomly sized hovering platforms randomly placed in random areas on the water. Something was glowing around Claps, but it disappeared with the rain.
Billy could see a smirk threatening to break through the imperturbable mask on Bob?s face. Claps bellowed a challenge at the ghost, then began windmilling his hands through the water, forming a sort of Water Gun attack spraying down Banette. The ghost snickered once, then collapsed.
The crowd went wild. Bob had won with a three-in-a-row!
Billy bowed his head, heaving a relieved-yet-depressed sigh. He held a sphere out and recalled the now-comatose ghost. He turned and was about to leave when he heard Bob yell, "CLAPS!?"
Billy jerked his head around as if he?d been slapped. There was the massive creature bobbing in the water, scorch marks covering its body. Its massive body shuddered and it flopped on its back in the water, its eyes closing.
Billy belatedly remembered the glow around Claps when the sprinklers stopped. His Banette must have used Will-o-Wisp while the wad of muscle was distracted, knowing it had no other chance. It was typical of the psychotic ghost.
As Bob recalled his Hariyama, Billy smirked, feeling a rush of adrenaline as he realized he wasn?t out yet. He whooped and, in one smooth motion, fired off his favorite.
"Milotic, let?s rock and roll!"
Out burst a long, sinuous creature. It had a gentle face set on a head bearing two long, brown, ear-like appendages. Its long, white body ended in a multicolored, scaled tail that bore three scaly feathers arranged in a fan. It let out a long, resonating call before it disappeared beneath the water.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Bob grimaced. He hated draconic types. They always got him in trouble. He decided that it was time to institute his normal strategy.
"Alright, Lucy, c?mon out!"
He fired off another pokeball, this one releasing a pink-skinned sheep with yellowish wool. It had a long tail with pink and black stripes running in circles down to the small blue ball on the end.
"Flaafy. FLAAFY!"
The small sheep landed on one of the platforms over the water and bleated again.
"FLAAAAAAFYYYYY!"
With only the rippling of the water as warning, the dragon-snake shot out of the water directly in front of the sheep and shot straight toward her, its entire body emerging from the water. Bob grinned at the simplicity of the maneuver. If that snake thought it was doing something original, it was going to get a nasty shock. Literally.
The snake suddenly found itself flying back over the water, its body sparking and crackling from the Thunderbolt. It hit the back wall and slumped down, just in time to receive a Thundershock in the tail. It cried out and collapsed on the floor.
Bob smirked as Billy recalled his Milotic. The trainer from Hoenn was gonna lose this match.
Billy smiled as he flung another pokeball at the floor. Out of it burst a small, yellow, dog-like creature with spikes for hair. Its beady black eyes focused on its opponent, but, before it could launch an attack, Bob recalled Lucy and shot another pokeball out.
"C?mon, Speedo!"
Before anybody could see what he?d sent out, the orbs began glowing again and a sudden wave covered the platform where the new arrival was. The pool drained within seconds and was replaced with blue-and-white tiles. Large orbs erupted from holes that were formed in the floor by missing tiles, two on each end of the arena. Rings were suspended around the large posts holding the orbs up. As the dust that had mysteriously appeared settled, the rings and orbs began glowing with an internal light. Bob grimaced as a reverberating "clank" flew over the area. He hated electrical gyms, and an electrical stadium was bound to be nasty.
Fortunately, his fastest Pok?mon was on the case.
Facing the electric dog was a rat. A short rat, with armless hands and legless feet, but still a rat. There were a couple of squeals from some female members of the audience, but the rest was laughter. He had no chance now, they thought. He felt like rearing his head back and laughing. They hadn?t seen the squirt in action yet.
"Watch out, Billy!"
Bob looked over at the shouter. He furrowed his brow, then, in a rush of adrenaline, recognized the face of Ash Ketchum, Master Trainer and former League Champion, a title lost by him to Bob himself.
Billy looked oddly at the famous man. "Why, sir?
The black-haired man snorted. "Nothing is faster than Speedo. But, since you don?t know that, just pretend I never said a word. I wanna see this."
Billy looked uncertainly at the rat, which was now grooming its tail unconcernedly. He was obviously undecided at to what course of action he should take. Bob decided to help him along.
"Speedo?"
The rat glanced at his trainer?s bored tone. Bob examined his fingernails; they needed their weekly cleaning. "Would you mind dispatching that?"
He gestured at the Jolteon, which was recharging itself with the generators on its side of the stadium. The Raticate snorted and nodded once. It then disappeared.
Bob watched Billy jerk, and then begin yelling orders at his spiked dog.
"Jolteon, Thunder all around you-NO!"
The exclamation was elicited by the rat appearing behind the dog and ramming it in the only area of its body not protected by spikes- the rear. The dog flew across the arena and crashed into the wall behind Bob. It jumped to its feet and snarled, whirling toward where it had last seen the creature. But the rat was already gone, a small swirl of dust being the only marker of its former position.
"Shadow Ball, Speedo. Please."
The rat suddenly appeared above the dog and, with a flick of its nose, formed a dark ball and smashed it into the dog from above. The dog snorted angrily and fired a bolt of electricity at the rat.
Bob smirked. The dog would expend its energy on a pointless assault with electricity on the speeding form of Speedo, and then the squirt would chew its up.
Suddenly, a bolt of blue light flew from the generators and was absorbed by Jolteon?s skin. Bob mentally kicked himself; he?d forgotten about the blasted generators. Nuisances, but he?d dealt with those before.
"Jolteon, Thunder everywhere!"
"Speedo, Wattson maneuver!"
The rat suddenly appeared in front of the generator nearest Jolteon, making nasty faces at it and making some other, less wholesome motions with its hands. The dog bellowed and unleashed a full-power blast at the insulting creature, but the rat shot out of the way, causing the attack to hit the generator. The machine was only built to generate, not absorb. The explosion was satisfying.
Speedo appeared right in front of Jolteon, making even more demeaning gestures at it. With a bellow, the dog fired millions of tiny needles at the rat, which pulled its disappearing maneuver again. The needles, failing to find a softer target, rammed into the conveniently placed generator, hacking through the wiring and metalwork in it like a heated knife through butter. The generator tilted, then fell, smashing into the ground with a loud ?boom?. Speedo, of course, perched on top of it and continued its campaign of insultment.
"Jolteon, get next to one of the generators so you don?t hit it!"
The yellow dog nodded, then sped over to the leftmost one. It turned and looked condescendingly at its opponent.
Bob sighed inwardly, then nodded at Speedo. The rat chattered at him, and then launched a Shadow Ball at Jolteon, blasting it back and away from the generator and causing it to skid around. Before the dog could get its balance back, the rat shot over and kicked it from behind. The dog yelped and, spinning around, ignored its trainer?s "NO!" and fired a full-power Thunder at the rat.
Everybody knew what would happen one second before it fired.
The third generator toppled over, but the rat still didn?t appear. Jolteon looked around suspiciously, seeking its opponent. Suddenly, the fourth generator tilted, spun, and fell. Speedo?s leering face rose from the stump of the generator, its teeth glistening evilly.
"Speedo, wipe it off the face of the earth. Please."
The rat bowed, then disappeared. Billy?s groan could be heard all over the stadium.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Billy did not like this. He watched Jolteon sag and collapse on the ground from the barrage of Shadow Balls coming from nowhere. He recalled the spiked dog and drew his last pok?ball.
"Heracross, mosh time!"
A giant, dark blue stag beetle appeared. It shook its long, dual-pointed horn, wiggled its wing covers, then set itself in a strange position that reminded Billy of something from ?The Matrix?. He snorted as the beetle began bobbing its head.
The Raticate cocked its head to the side, obviously a little put out by the bug?s strange behavior.
Billy signaled for a ref. Master Ash trotted over.
"I thought you weren?t a participant in this challenge, Master." Billy raised an eyebrow. "Especially since you prefer battling over refereeing."
The Master Trainer shrugged. "It?s battling. What do you need?"
"I?m calling in my item. Could I have a radio with a CD player?"
Master Ash shrugged. "Sure. What for, if I may ask?"
Billy grinned. "It?s a surprise."
Ash gave him a mock-glare. "I hate surprises."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Bob watched curiously as Billy fiddled with the radio he?d gotten from Ash. Suddenly, the speakers around the stadium began crackling, the first noise they?d made since the announcer?s stand met its demise. And then, out of the blue-
"HE COULDN?T BELIEVE WHAT THEY?D DONE,
SO THEY DIED FROM THE LEAD OF HIS GUUUUUUNNN!!"
Bob jerked as he heard the popular heavy-metal song begin blaring over the speakers at full volume. The song, ?Lead of the gun?, was purely about vengeance and death. He couldn?t understand why Billy would play that song, unless it was for distraction. But that would work on his Heracross, too, so?
Suddenly, Bob noticed the beetle.
It was dancing. Or rather, moshing.
Bouncing up and down, it jerked its head up and down with the rhythm of the song. Then, it spun and, its wings speeding like mad, slammed into Speedo.
Bob grimaced as the squirt hit the wall. He needed more power. And he had it.
"Speedo, return!"
The rat disappeared in a flash of light. Bob placed the sphere on his belt and plucked the last one off. "Blaze, mop-up time!"
With an ear-splitting roar, a massive beast materialized from the red beam of light. Almost six feet tall, it had blue fur covering its back and the top of his head, and whitish-orange fur on its abdomen and the under part of his throat. With another roar, he jetted flames from the tiny nozzle-like extrusions in its back. He turned toward the stag beetle, who was now really jamming with the music. He roared and, with a snort, finished the match with a Fire Blast. The beetle, too busy dancing, was run down and cooked.
In the silence following the final blow, the referee could be heard clearly.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I give you our winner: Bob!"
The crowd went nuts.
