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Mega Man: The Wily Castle Remix Gauntlet 2011


DarkeSword
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Now that we've got team names, I'd say it's time for team bios. I'll start with ours:

The True* Story of The Concrete Men

It all began when the angels AkumajoBelmont and Flexstyle attended a party in heaven. Akuma poured down gallons of Gabriel's Bourbon while Flex indulged in massive quantities of Guinness Extra Divine. There was after all, much to be celebrated having just routed the forces of Hell. The battle had been going badly at first, but Akuma used his divine voice to heal and resurrect fallen comrades, rendering Hell's forces impotent to cause permanent casualties. While Flex had fought valiantly, he felt that he had not done enough to turn the tide of battle. His forlorn demeanor became apparent to Akuma.

"Brother, why art thou dost forlorneth?"

"Eh, just getting really sick of all this exaggerated Olde English stuff," replied Flex.

"Oh, sorry. You should have another drink!" chortled Akuma.

"It's not just that. You saved everyone in the battle, and what did I do? I only slayed a few demons here and there. Wait, is it slayed or slain? Slew?"

Before Akuma could respond, the angel Lulzaroni ran onto the divine dance floor gasping, "Where is champion Akuma? Satan himself is at the gates!"

Akuma, Flex and all the other angels rushed to the gates, and sure enough, there was Satan in all of his dark might. Standing over 50 feet tall, and bristling with thick, sharp scales that would make a red dragon green with envy, he casually burped several balls of flame.

"All of this bloodshed -- what has it gotten us? Really guys, war, what is it good for? So I challenge your greatest champion to a duel of his choosing and we can end this conflict once and for all," spoke Satan in his booming voice.

"You're only saying that because your army has been decimated!" shouted the angel Roflroni.

"Yea, you just want our beer!" piped the angel Lmaoroni.

"And bourbon. Don't forget the divine bourbon." Bellowed Akuma with his mighty divine voice of divineness which was divine. Even Satan seemed taken aback by his powerful timbres.

"Yes, it is true I just want the divine alcohol you possess. You have no idea how boring Hell is. Everything I get just burns. A mortal died the other day and showed up in Hell with an xbox 360 in his hands. I only got to play it for two minutes before it completely melted," Satan intoned, his voice pleading and full of sorrow, "and if I could just get some of that cold divine brew I could entertain myself with mindless intoxication."

"You desire to combine your vain, materialistic stain of a soul with mindless intoxication? You mean like the Jersey Shore?" inquired the angel Roflroni.

"Satan you know that you cannot hope to defeat Akuma and his gilded larynx. Why do you waste our time?" demanded the angel Gabriel.

"I do not intend to challenge Akuma's voice. I may be evil, but I'm not stupid. My dark sorcerors have placed a curse on him and it should kick in any minute now.....Well Akuma, how do you feel?" said Satan.

"I feel fine."

"Ok, how 'bout now?"

"Nope, still good."

"Now?"

"Sorry Satan, but your dark magic....." Suddenly Akuma's voice went hoarse and he could barely speak.

"Muahahaha! Your great champion's power is vastly diminished thanks to esophageal cancer! Now, are any amongst you brave enough to challenge me or should I just start taking inventory of my new divine collection of delectable brews?" Satan said triumphantly.

The angels cowered in fear and averted the eyes of the dark lord. Flex alone stood forward and shouted, "I will challenge you to a duel Satan! Let us have a mix-off on Earth! And if I win, you can never return to this realm or Earth!"

"And if I win, I get your brew."

"Deal!"

The angels were very concerned that Satan would slaughter Flex at the mix-off. Satan did win the universe-wide dj mix-off competition every year.

"Seriously Flex, couldn't you have challenged him to something he's NOT insanely good at, like say, a competition to see who can go the longest without burping flame?"

"Relax. I got this. I have been training diligently for such an occasion," said Flex, "besides knowing Satan he'd never agree to something he thought he could lose."

The angel Lolroni asked, "Why can't we get God to help?"

"He's busy playing Super Meat Boy and asked not to be disturbed remember?" responded Flex, "I wish he'd just beat that game and be done with it."

"Perhaps we should get a strategy guide from the mortals." suggested Lmaoroni.

"Wait, hold on, God just sent me a text. He said for Flex to go to Earth and find the Prophecy." Gabriel said as he stared at his phone.

"And what does the Prophecy say?" asked Flex.

"Prophecy is a person, not a religious prediction central to a plot in this case," responded Grabriel.

"Prophecy, a name? Well that's dumb...and how horribly uncreative. Well, I hope I find this Prophecy on Earth."

Flex and Akuma departed for Earth and found themselves on a dirt path next to a forest. Akuma, still unable to speak, kept writing the word "bourbon" in the dirt, using a stick. Flex patiently reminded him that he had just drunk all of Heaven's bourbon supply and it would be some time before Gabriel could make more. Akuma's eyes expressed his intense sadness when his mouth could not. He seemed ready to write "bourbon" again when a man came walking along.

"You, good mortal sir, can you help us? We are looking for one called Prophecy." pleaded Flex.

"Uh, Prophecy? I don't use that name anymore, I'm now called Jason Cov-"

"Splendid! We have found you at last Prophecy!" exclaimed Flex.

"Um, yea, ok. Any particular reason you have wings? Halloween isn't for another week or so."

"Well you see, we're from Heaven and we're trying to protect our beer from Satan but he used a curse on Akuma to give him esophageal cancer..."

"Oh, I've got some bourbon. Here you go."

After drinking the mortal bourbon, Akuma's condition began to improve and he was able to speak again, though his powers were still greatly diminished. He would need Gabriel's Bourbon before his powers could be fully restored. Flex and Akuma explained to Prophecy, err, Jason the situation they were in and the need to defeat Satan in a mix-off.

"No worries Flex, I can teach you how to mix." Jason said.

"Actually, I already know how to mix. Here, listen to this."

Flex broke out a cd of his music and played the first track.

"Hey, this is pretty good. Actually, it's really good. Whoever this Stan guy is sure has his work cut out for him."

"Thanks, but his name is Satan and he's kind of the ultimate evil. Anyways, here's one of Satan's mixes."

Flex put on one of Satan's worst mixes and the contrast was immediately apparent. The percussion felt like being hit with a freight train with every thud, while the synths were both massive and tightly mixed in ways that seemed impossible. The production was so slick and detailed that it seemed he had mixed it down to fractions of individual hertz. The riffs were so catchy that the neighbors abruptly stopped everything they were doing to listen.

"Jeez this guy is amazing! Holy crap you're completely screwed. Err, I mean you've got your work cut out for you. Uh, is it too late for you to run away?"

"Running away is not an option. If I fail, Satan will gain control of Heaven's beer supply."

"And bourbon!" Akuma chimed in, glad to be able to speak again.

Jason shuddered at such a terrible thought, "Alright, I think I can help you. I'm not good enough to beat this Santa guy, but with my help, you should be able to. I will teach you the ways of concrete."

"Concrete?"

"Yes. I was walking home next to a nuclear power plants with crumbling concrete cooling towers, when I was bitten by a piece of radioactive concrete."

"Uh, bitten?"

"Excuse me, did I say bitten? I meant "struck on the head by some jerk hiding behind a bush." Anyways, after that encounter I developed the power to control bass any way I saw fit. And you can too. Just remember that the bass is not in the sequencer, it is within you. Oh, and here's some radioactive concrete."

Jason handed Flex and Akuma each a piece of concrete with a green glow, which they accepted hesitantly. Flex trained daily, and soon it was time for the big showdown.

The rules are quite simple: Each contestant gets on opposite ends of a long, rectangular dance floor. Unknowing mortals wander in through the middle where both mixes clash. Because clashing mixes are hard to dance to, they must pick a side and go to that side to dance. The contestant with the most dancers on his side by the end of 10 minutes wins the mix-off.

Satan's massive frame lumbered in through the large double doors. Little did Flex know just how hard he'd been training, and how much better the dark lord had gotten. Indeed, Satan had reached a whole new level of ability. Flex had improved too, but would it be enough? Satan leered lustily at his opponent across the floor, licking his lips savoring the booze to come. The mix stations were set. Turntables ready and sequencers on. Flex, Akuma and Jason finished their preparations and began watching the time tick down. The most important battle in the history of the universe was about to start.

Part 2, coming soon!

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