Mr Badger leaves his hole covered in a mizture of beer, snow and alumina dust. "I've forgotten to write what? Oh shi....." says he as he runs back inside the BadgerCave (tm). In mere hours he returns in a pair of woolly y-fronts and enough oil to raze a medium sized town. To the Story!
The foolish contestants:
Handelolis
fiendius maximus
Amhorach
Spookulus
Spitzandalexus
sBARDicus forall Occassionicus
It was another glorious day in the land of the Gee-Hoods. The birds were singing and the Rum merchants were still partying the night away. From out of her sprawl of a mansion ParrHera did gather her oversized dressing gown (made from the flayed skin of not a few Newbies) and looked out at Her people from Her frenchwindows. Today will be a great day, today is the day of the Pose-off. With a sign of Her love of Her people ParrHera did make an important announacement "I hereby remove the ban on leering for this event!" The crowds went wild, rioting did start and the sales of telescopes went through the roof. Smiling to Herself ParrHera did dress and descent to the Pose-stadium where Her Gee-Hood box was in perfect leering distance from the event platform.
Handelolis and HercuBadger stumbled out of the drinkstent at the crack of
lunchtime.
"What time is it?" Asked HercuBadger while he tried to convince his legs
the proper directions of up and down.
"Half past bugger all in the morning," replied Handelolis while he
tried to suck the last remains of a Rum filled evening from his tunic.
"Ah my fine companion, lets us make way for todays event," concluded
HercuBadger as he left for his Hero's tent and the awaiting 200 litre drum
of industrial baby oil.
The crowds had gathered and the members of the Wizards guild (those surviving and not being found with the name Tremere anywhere on their person) had made a major strategic sucess with the sponsering of flying viewing platforms. A tragic note was bought to bear none less when ever one of these platforms impinged upon ParrHera'a view and she had no recourse but to exterminate it with a ParrHeran fireball (tm).
A silent hush was desended upon the crowd as the starting time arrived. From out of the wings of the stadium came HercuBadger and Reality struggled to maintain integrity as the full leering power of 500,000 excited women was bought to bear. The flash of the cameras was bright enough to bring a neigbouring star close to nova and the heat from the flashes was enough to make there be only six seas from now on. HercuBadger was dressed in the finest of wooly underwear and covered in enough babyoil to cause the stadium to lose it's fire insurance policy. With his flowing golden locks glinting in the breeze and his smile so bright it knocked a number of satilites out of orbit. As HercuBadger ascended the steps to the posing platform a number of ugly people dropped dead for miles around. The Parr-a-medics were strenched beyond capacity (luckly Hagbuttus and the timely use of a Stretchyman potion came to their aid) trying to sponge up all the drool from the near incoherent women. As HercuBadger raised his hand for silence he was near bowled over by a wave of roses and push-up bra's flung by the leering crowd. With a silent thankyou to Bendon, GeeHoodess of Upperbody support, for the weightlesess of these articles HercuBadger began.
"People, I have sad news to bring you, I can not compete today!" Cried
HercuBadger.
The crowd went wild and a number of suicides occured within seconds of
the announcment.
"Wait good people. I can not compete as compared to one such as I the
disgusting wretches that are the other contestants would stand not a chance.
So I will judge the event and leave them to their inadequacy!" Continued the
oiled Warrior. Just to give the crowd what they wanted HercuBadger pretended
to drop his pencil and bended over to pick it up. As his muscles flexed in
place no muscle had been before the crowd roared its approval and the women
stuck dead moments ago were bought back to life by the sight.
And so let the games begin!
The first contestant is Bardicus. He enters the stadium and the women begin leering anew.
The fashionable Toreador/Malkav of today has taken the look of insanity and changed it into a fashion statement as with what you are seeing with sBardicus here wearing the gold lycra "Freakazoid" T-shirt covered with the frill and lace expected by the Toreador clan. The suit pants which balloon out and the knee show the carefree nature of this style of clothing and comfort. The suit coat unbuttoned shows the bussiness class where as the suede blue and red jester boots* are the old worldly Medieval crazyness you like to see. The hair is a mixture of wild and crazy with the long and sexual style that comes with looking sooo georgeous. The tiny ribbons at the end of each plat in his beard is a bit tres gouch but the leather bound cod-piece with the chain underwear support really make this costume what it is today.
The crowd love it and so does HercuBadger as someone actually wrote in with something (I'm guilty of forgetting entries but whose's writting this and whose's reading it anyway, I have nothing to be asamed off, well except for that one night with......)
Before another contestant can wake from their selfpity at being so hidisious deformed compared to HercuBadger a masked stranger leaps from the stands and runs to the platform. With the mask removed it is revealed to be no other then Petecrates.
Petecrates knuckle-walks into the competition area, and nods to the judge. Adopting a contemplative stance, he ponitficates, "Ook ook, ooook ook OOk?" He's misunderstood the contest! He's posing questions to the other contestants! Oh the humanity! The lack of response from the others brings joy to Petecrates' monkey heart. He adopts another intelligent (and pretentious) stance, and asks more forcefully, "OOK OOK, OOOOK OOK ooK??". He waits for a response, then walks away, confident in having posed the most difficult question. Before leaving he hands a banana to Hercubadger and Handelolis, and gives a meaningful wink to fiendus maximus...
Once this imposter has been removed the call goes for the next contestant. From out of the Ugly-as-sin bin comes fiendius maximus.
fiendius maximus took to the stage..... and took the stage right out from under the contestants. he then ran a few hundred feet and set up shop on it. (first case of shoplifiting?) there he took out a hacksaw blade and did his pose of the venus de milo.
fiendius maximus bowed to the crowd and then publicly disembowed a reporter for spelling his name with a 'F' instead of a 'f'. With the crowd purposly not leering in that direction the compedition continued.
From out of the Shadows comes Spookulus. His show-toga impishly slung over just the one shoulder. He climbed the stage and from out of his bag-of-bits (tm) did assemble what he thought to be the perfect male body. After much gunstapling and duct taping he was finished. With a bow he left the stage and the crowd left their lunch on the floor. Never had they seen such a foul display of male insensitivity. Spookulus was hounded by angry fans as he fled the stadium. Behind him could be seen Spitzandalexus running after it's master. Spitzandalexus was wearing the latest in HercuBadger inspired leather straps with a little silver bell under each of it's heads. The crowd went "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh," at the cuteness and stopped chasing Spookulus.
It was time for Amhorach to climb the stage. From out of a Highlander style hide-anything jacket he pulled out the famous Vulcan multibarrelled cannon. As he set it up and explained the vital working parts he suddenly remembered that the crowd is wholely women who wouldn't be impressed with such a leathal weapon like Real Blokes (tm) would have been. With this sudden revalation Amhorach grabbed his piece (settle down lads) and fled the stage.
This left but one compeditor to go, HercuBadger's famous sidekick Handelolis. A tear crept from HercuBadger's eye as he thought of his loyal but stunted companion trying to compete in this event. So brave yet diabolically ugly. How could this foul representation of humanity with it's tiny legs and a chest only a toddler would be proud of try to compete against Real Blokes (tm)? HercuBadger felt nothing but pride as this person with the face of a camel's armpit faced up to the crowd. This disfigured wretch with all the charm of an airstrike entered the stadium and stood before a shocked and violently ill crowd.
Looking around at the much taller opponents, Handelolis felt somewhat outclassed. Why, if it wasn't for Spitzandalexus, he'd be the shortest one here - and Spitzandalexus had more teeth than him! Who'd entered himself in this silly competition anyway?
He looked at Hercubadger morosely. "Bastard," he muttered as he watched Hercubadger warming up for another pose. 'Hmm.. wonder if I can give myself the bronze in the sulking event"... he thought before breaking out of the annoying and time wasting habit.
Thinking some more (and wiping off the Rum sweats this brought on), Handelolis figured that the title of the event was open to being read differently by the discerning mind. Rather than posing off with the others, he decided to turn the other's ability to pose off. This obviously would involve reducing their machismo quotient to something usually seen in an overripe apricot.
Handelolis snickered and quietly wandered off to get some equipment...
[later, after or during some poses]
A loud thrumming was heard as if of gigantic wings. From overhead a huge mass blotted out the stars and a gale force wind sprung up.
"It's a Roc," said Hercubadger. "I've fought them on many occasions, and always won." He posed before pulling out his mighty spade 'Thesaurus', in order to gain a huge posing advantage on the others by standing atop the huge carcase while posing.
"Beer scramble," shouted a voice from above. Things began to fall from the Roc.
Being in hypercharged Testosterone mode, all the competitors made to catch cans of 'the man's drink'. They lifted up their faces and arms to find themselves covered in a messy pink paint. Drifting down to mix with the paint/glue amalgam was a shops-worth of lace fragments. Quickly, all of the posers were pink and lacy.
From atop his steed, Handelolis made an obscene gesture at all of them and laughed, his form nicely sihouetted against the moon.
HercuBadger was shocked not just at the lack of a beastie to fight but how could his companion sink so low as to belittle the others in this way? Isn't it enough that he is as attractive as a landfill but he has to cheat? How can Mother Nature be so cruel to make such a kind person have all the looks of a ingrown toenail? HercuBadger cursed a few of the GeeHoods (ones not there of cause) and vowed to get to the bottom of who put Handelolis up to such a deed.
"Fair people! I award the event as such, First equal is myself with me as well. Being this handsome can only occur if there are two of me. The bronze goes to sBARDicus forall Occassionicus for his fine attempt. I declear this event ended and first round on Handelolis!"
Mr Badger changes back into his favourite trenchcoat and stares at his detractors, happy now?