Super Smash Bros SBC Style

[ClassicNickelodeon Fan 1]

Ooh, Sweet!

[shin]

[Webizoid]

I'm thinking that I'll just write this chapter just to get it back in motion.

[shin]

I'm thinking that I'll just write this chapter just to get it back in motion.

PLEASE.

You have no idea how eager I am to see this lit brought back to life.

[Webizoid]

Here's the long awaited chapter! Enjoy!

THIS STORY IS NOT TO OFFEND ANY USER ON THIS SITE. SOME OF THESE CHARACTERS HAVE DIFFERENT PERSONALITIES THAN THE PEOPLE THEY ARE BASED OFF OF. VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.

Season 1:

1. The Gathering

2. JCM vs. Noseferatu

3. Jjsthekid vs. 4EverGreen

4. Elastic Dog vs. guymonty

5. BeachBob vs. 70s

Webby stood outside of the Smash Stadium ceremoniously as he recapped the last episode. “Last time on Super Smash Bros: SpongeBob Community Style, the battle between Blubber and Elastic Dog began! And we all know who won. I’m not even going to recap the actual fight because the victor was so obvious to everyone. Blubber’s a conceited douchebag and deserved what he got. And no, I won’t get fired for saying that. In other news, the relationship between Sabrespongebob and Deli is heating up, whereas the Jelly-Sebastian relationship isn’t doing too hot. Who knows what could happen there? And will BeachBob ever forgive CNF for whatever he did? Because we don’t know. But we are sure to soon find out! IT’S TIME FOR THE LONG AWAITED EPISODE OF SUPER SMASH BROS SBC STYYYYYYYYYYYYYYLE!!!!!!!”

*theme song*

ROOM 6

BeachBob woke up and stretched a bit. He looked to the bunk next to him and saw Pac-CNF sleeping as well. Feeling empty inside, BeachBob got out of bed to get ready for the big fight.

SOF fidgeted a bit. “There seems to be a lot of tension between Bob and CNF. I’ll keep out of it, just to be safe.”

ROOM 3

70s hummed a few random notes as he was brushing his teeth, being careful not to get toothpaste on his trademarked t-shirt with a design of three records upon it. He washed his mouth out and began to belt, “No, no, no, no, no, no, noooo!” in a fashionable arpeggio. He checked himself out in the mirror and headed out the bathroom door.

Only the slumbering hilaryfan80 and CDCB were in the room when 70s entered (JCM had already gone down for breakfast). 70s was pissed off at their audacity to sleep in on such a big day for him, but just then he got an idea.

70s cleared his throat, swallowed a huge breath, and sang a C5 with tremendous strength and gusto. It didn’t just blow their hair back, it blasted their poor bunks through the wall.

70s laughed to himself. “They got what they deserved.”

JCM just shook his head. “When I came back up to my room after breakfast, there was a huge fuckin’ hole in the wall!”

ROOM 4

Dragiiin and Ex were having yet ANOTHER argument.

“X-Men was the worst game for the NES!” shouted Ex, glaring daggers at Dragiiin.

“No way!” countered Dragiiin. “I meant REAL GAMES! Tag Team Pro Wrestling makes X-Men look like Skyrim!”

“How could Tag Team Pro Wrestling be worse than X-Men?” asked Ex. “X-Men was an abomination to its own series!”

“Tag Team Pro Wrestling was not even fun!” complained Dragiiin. “You will regret playing it!”

“Mutants are hated for a reason!” Ex moaned emphatically. “They were in the X-Men game!”

Elastic chimed in. “How about the Blues Brother video game? That was horrible!”

“No, these games were definitely worse.” said Dragiiin. “The graphics were so bad in TTPW.”

“I didn’t know those things were X-Men until the end of the game!” lamented Ex.

“Both of you shut up!” said Shin, making lighting shoot from each of his fingertips. After a silence, he said, “And Deadly Towers was the worst video game on the NES.”

Then everyone began to talk simultaneously, arguing and bickering until a giant bunk bed went through both of their walls. There was an even longer silence. The only person who spoke was Elastic. “The fuck did I just see?”

Ooooooofy and Hasfarr were checking that everything was secure in the stadium. Each of the hosts had a clipboard with a checklist on them.

“Stage?” asked Ooooooofy.

Hasfarr pressed a button and the stage turned into the standard on before the cameras could catch footage of the stage for the next battle. “Check.”

“Items?” asked Ooooooofy.

Hasfarr pressed another button and items rained down on the two hosts. “Check.”

“Final Smash?” asked Ooooooofy.

Yet another button was pressed and the ball fluttered down. “Check.”

Ooooooofy tossed his clipboard away. “Aright, pack up all of those items and we are in business!”

A small shadow emerged under their feet. It grew at an increasing rate.

Hasfarr looked up at his co-worker, obviously startled. “What’s going on?”

Ooooooofy craned his neck up to the sky to determine the source of the shadow. When the shape was recognizable (or as recognizable as it could be), it was far too late.

Webby and Dylan heard the commotion and dashed over to discover the bunk bed containing the dozing hilaryfan80 and CDCB on the stage, holding Ooooofy and Hasfarr captive underneath.

“That’s not good.” said Dylan.

Webby shrugged. “We could fix it later.” The host heaved a small cough, jolting hilaryfan80 and CDCB awake.

“Oh my god!” shouted hilaryfan80. “How did we get here?”

CDCB looked around. “I dreamed of this place.”

hilaryfan80 stared down at him. “What?”

CDCB climbed up the bunk bed ladder and said, holding onto the ladder with one hand, “I dreamed that we would somehow wind up here. I am God.” A ray of sunshine graced his presence with a heroic gleam.

“Oh, for God’s sake.” said hilaryfan80 under his breath.

CDCB looked flattered. “Oh, don’t worry about little ol’ me!”

hilaryfan80 was scowling and crossing his arms. “This God thing is really starting to piss me off. I don’t believe a word of it.”

CDCB grinned. “I think he’s convinced now.”

70s was getting ready as Webby thrust his microphone in his face. 70s hesitated. “W-What?”

Webby repeated what he said. “If you lost this fight, what would your last words be?”

70s thought for a minute. “Well, I guess it would be...” He then began to sing his next words on an A4. “I LOVE YOU ALL!!!”

All of the glass in the area shattered and Webby had gone through the wall.

Dylan was interviewing the sullen BeachBob. “If this was your last battle, what would your last words be?”

BeachBob had flickers of CNF in his head and thought of the great memories they had together as friends. But he wouldn’t forgive him for what he was doing. “I have nothing to say.”

Dylan blinked. “Is that all?”

BeachBob was getting a little miffed with all of the interrogation. “I have nothing to say, I am saying it, and that’s friggin’ poetry.” He stormed off the camera.

Dylan stood speechless before throwing his microphone down in frustration, attempting to rip out his hair. “Goddamnit, I’m just doing my job!” He then proceeded to meekly pick up his microphone and try to flatten his hair to its original shape. “You’re editing that part out, right?”

CF was sitting in the stadium’s audience with her friends, waiting for the fight to start when Dragiiin came along and sat beside her in the free seat. “Hey.”

CF looked happy to see him. “Hey.”

“How’s it going?” He asked, beginning an airy conversation.

“Oh, I’m great.” replied CF, leaning back in her chair. “I wonder who will win this battle.”

“Oh, you never know.” said Dragiiin. “Well, I bet Jjs does, but...”

CF laughed at this, nodding her head and saying, “That’s true.”

Dragiiin’s head swelled up a bit. “But even if you were put on the spot to compete in one of these brute displays called ‘entertainment’, I think you would really kick ass.”

CF shook her head shyly. “No I wouldn’t.”

“I think you would.” said Dragiiin. “I believe you would win, hands down.”

“You’re just saying that!” said CF, blushing and looking away.

“No, I mean it.” said Dragiiin slyly as he placed a hand casually on her leg. “I really think you would kick ass.”

CF felt a weird feeling stirring inside of her. It was anxiety mixed with affection and lust, all in one feeling. She grinned a giant grin. “Thank you, Dragiiin.”

He shrugged. “No problem.” He got up. “I’ll be right back. Do you want me to get you something from the concessions?”

CF shook her head. “No thanks, I’m all set.”

Dragiiin nodded. “Okay, see you in a few.”

He walked to the aisle and heard an obnoxious “PSST!” from behind him. It was SOF.

Dragiiin rolled his eyes. “I’m right butt-fucking here, what do you want?”

“I want you to teach me how to flirt.” said SOF.

Dragiiin’s eyes darted from side to side. “Come with me.”

SOF nodded eagerly. “Of course I am!”

Meanwhile, Webby walks into the announcer’s box to find a grumbling, disheveled Dylan.

Webby chuckled. “Dude! What happened to you?”

Dylan tried yet again to flatten his unkempt hair. “Uh, it’s nothing. What happened with you? I heard a giant explosion of sound over there and I saw something fly through the wall and onto the stage.”

Webby nodded. “70s gave me his final words in the most obnoxious way possible. That was me that flew through that wall.”

“And not a scratch?” asked Dylan, gaping.

“The crew cleaned me right up so I can look good for the cameras.” replied Webby. “Maybe you should’ve done that too.” He began to laugh. “You look like crap, dude.”

Dylan was getting more and more miffed at every cocky, arrogant word that his co-worker vocalized. “I tried to get help, but everyone was too fucking busy laughing at me.”

But Webby wasn’t listening. Instead, he was kicking off the new installment of SSB SBC Style. “WELCOME TO ANOTHER EDITION OF SUPER SMASH BROS: SBC STYYYLE!!!” The crowd roared with excitement and anticipation.

Dylan covered his ears. “Dude, why do you have to be so loud?”

Webby turned to him. “I dunno.”

“Your voice carries, man.” cringed Dylan. “You don’t need need to shout!”

“But I do this all the-,” Webby realized the audience was listening to the conversation. He continued glumly. “Let’s bring out the contestants.” There was scattered applause.

“Alright, fine!” said Dylan. “Do what you usually do!”

Webby looked at Dylan for a second and shrugged. “Okay. TIME TO BRING OUT THE CONTESTANTS!!!!!!!!!!” The audience’s cheering was deafening. “In one corner, we have the ballsy singer with gusto and range unimaginable, please welcome THAT70SGUY!!!!” The crowd cheered as 70s leapt out onto the stage, riffing madly.

“Take it away, Dylan.” said Webby to his co-host.

Dylan turned away and said, sarcastically, “No, you go ahead. I’ll just sit here.”

Webby shrugged again. “And in the other corner, the ball of fun himself, please welcome BEACHBOB!!!!” The crowd cheered again as BeachBob, now in his true ball form, bounced onto the stage, soaking in the attention the he knew would be short-lived.

“Now for our stage! It will be... THE BEEEEEEACH!!! TIME FOR A ROAD TRIP, KIDDIES!” The audience cheered as they were transported to a sweltering beach with cool ocean spray keeping the stadium at a reasonable temperature.

Wumbo grinned. “A huge step up from the last stage.”

“Yeah!” said Box enthusiastically. “That stage sure did-,”

Elastic saw the bad pun coming from a mile away and began cheering louder to mask it. “YEAH! RA RA REE! KICK ‘EM IN THE KNEE! RA RA RASS! KICK ‘EM SQUARE IN THE BALLS!”

Box frowned. “That asswipe isn’t making it very easy to act nice.”

“Before we begin, we are now bringing in a new part of our show: FLASHBACKS! Because how else will the readers see them? So if you see the players randomly pause what they are doing, one is having a random flashback, which will show up on the screen for the world to see.”

CNF gaped in horror at the news. “Oh god! NO!!!”

“What’s your problem?” asked Clappy.

“N-nothing.” muttered CNF nervously.

“3...” Webby began, waiting for his counterpart to chime in with the next consecutive integer. However, Dylan didn’t. “You know what? Whatever. FIGHT!!!!”

“You are going down!” said BeachBob as he jumped high into the air and plummeted back down, bouncing off of the sand with his belly.

“And BeachBob is already eager to throw the first punch!” announced Webby. He turned his mic off and glared at Dylan. “What the fuck do you think you are doing? You can’t just drop out of announcing!”

Dylan raised a defiant eyebrow. “Oh, but I did. And you seemed to handle it just fine.”

Webby wrinkled his forehead and massaged his temples. “I’ll dock your pay if you don’t start announcing.

“WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT?!” shouted Dylan into his microphone. “70S HAS JUST TAKEN THE RECORDS OFF OF HIS SHIRT AND IS NOW THROWING THEM AT BEACHBOB!”

Webby smiled to himself. “Works every time.”

70s was doing just what Dylan narrated. The records that missed BeachBob returned to 70s’ hand. The ones that made contact left BeachBob with long gashes and other lacerations. Since BeachBob was in his ball form, the wounds didn’t affect him much. However, he was fed up with 70s’ records. He deflated and dodged the next two records coming for him. 70s threw a last record at BeachBob, who caught the record in his hand. Blood dripped down the record and trickled onto the floor of the stage. Without remorse, BeachBob held the bloodied record out in front of him with two hands and broke the record in half. 70s gawked at BeachBob’s bold gesture as the crowd went wild.

“WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT!!!” shouted Dylan. “BEACHBOB JUST BROKE 70S’ RECORD IN HALF! IN FRONT OF HIS FACE!!”

“Want to play hard-ball?” asked BeachBob. “Let’s play fuckin’ hard-ball.”

CNF gaped at BeachBob as well, until he began to cheer as well. “GO BEACHBOB!!!”

“He had moxie!” Exclaimed Cha.

Smiles beamed. “He had gusto!”

“He had some major balls!” shouted Steel.

“He had all of the things that I can respect in a fighter.” said OMJ.

70s charged at BeachBob with increasing fury, but BeachBob dodged with tremendous ease. 70s was near the edge of the stage and thought to himself what a fall that would be. He turned around to charge at BeachBob again only to find his opponent already there with the two halves of the records in his hands.

“Goodbye.” said BeachBob as he slashed both records across 70s’ chest and kicked him off of the stage, dropping the broken record after him.

As 70s fell, he shouted “NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!” in the most cliched way possible.

An explosion sounded. The crowd cheered loudly as 70s came back to the stage, only two lives remaining. Before BeachBob could notice, 70s kicked BeachBob in the back and sent him soaring off the sunny stage, claiming one of his lives in turn.

“WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT!” shouted Dylan. “BOTH HAVE FALLEN ONCE AND HAVE TWO LIVES REMAINING! WE WILL LET ONE OF THE FIGHTERS HAVE A FLASHBACK AFTER THESE COMMERCIAL BREAKS!!”

The all-knowing Dragiiin and the “grasshopper” SOF were finishing their talk in the bathroom. SOF had been dressed up in a neat tuxedo, his hair slicked back with copious amounts of hair gel. He had been sprayed with George Clooney cologne and had applied deodorant to each armpit until the canister was completely empty. Next to SOF sat a battery-powered boombox tuned in on a freeform jazz radio channel.

SOF went over everything he learned. “So that’s all I need? Gel, confidence, sexiness, and ape shit? I have everything except for the last thing. And the two things before that.”

“No, no, no. They will GO apeshit.” corrected Dragiiin.

SOF nodded. “Oooooooh. Alright.”

“And don’t forget to not get your hopes up!” instructed Dragiiin. “And occasionally throw in a compliment.”

“Right.” said SOF, walking off. “Well, I’m off!”

“Onward, noble steed!” yelled Dragiiin after him. When SOF was gone, Dragiiin tentatively checked his watch. “Where the fuck is she?”

“Let’s delve into the memory banks of 70s, why don’t we?” announced Dylan to the audience.

70s gawked. “No! NO! NOOO!!!”

But it was too late. The jumbo screen had begun showing one of his memories to the entire nation. The flashbacks would be shown as a first person experience, as the actual people experienced it. This particular memory that was chosen was of 70s as a young boy (presumably, because he was much shorter and his voice was higher) singing while his father instructed him.

Young 70s began to sing. “Treated me kind/Sweet destiny/Carried me through desperation/To the one that was waiting for me/You took so long/Still I believed/Somehow the one that I needed/Would find me eventually/I had a vision of-”

“No no NO!” shouted his father, who looked more like a football coach than a vocal coach. “Sound more like Mariah Carey!”

“Dad, I’m trying!” protested Young 70s.

His father slapped him across the face. “DON’T GIVE ME ANY OF THAT ‘TRYING’ BULLSHIT! THERE IS ONLY DOING! Now take it from the top and sound like Mariah Carey this time!!!”

“Dad, I w-want to be my own person.” Young 70s whimpered timidly, very afraid of his father. “I don’t want to copy someone else!”

“DO AS I SAY!” shouted his father. “FROM THE TOP!”

Young 70s took a big, heaving breath as his father started the soundtrack again. Young 70s began to sing, “Treated m-me kiiiind....”

His father stopped the tape and began pacing the room, rubbing his temples. He finally went over to his son, crouched down to his level, and said with a sneer, “I’m just trying to help you. Tell me when you’re done crying, you wuss.” He walked out of the room slowly, but not without slamming the door on his way out. The memory ended.

In present time, BeachBob went over to 70s and put a hand on his back. “Dude, that was uncalled for. I don’t think any different of you-,”

But 70s had been filling to the brim with blind rage and fury. Without thinking or listening to BeachBob, he tackled his still-inflated opponent, bouncing around the stage.

The audience was still gaping at the flashback they just saw, paying no attention to BeachBob and 70s bouncing around their beach. Then JCM stood up and said, “Dylan! 70s didn’t deserve embarrassment like that!”

Everyone began to boo and jeer the host that had showed 70s’ scarring flashback.

“I WAS INSTRUCTED TO DO THAT, YOU DUMB ASSHOLES!!!” Dylan shouted, running out of the announcer’s box and slamming the door. There was silence.

70s and BeachBob had (somehow) stopped bouncing around and were panting, struggling to stay up on their feet. 70s staggered forward in the silence. “I have a compromise. We are both worn out and need all the energy we can muster. However, you can get all the energy you want if you are fine with losing a life in the process. I am willing to make the sacrifice. If you are as well, then we can both jump and still be even. Then we will have two lives each, meaning the fight will be over faster! What do you say?”

BeachBob considered the proposal. “Do you promise that you’ll jump if I jump too?”

“I promise.” vowed 70s, crossing his fingers behind his back. The portion of the audience behind him noticed, causing a mixed response.

“But we have to jump at the same time.” said BeachBob sternly.”Alright?”

“Alright.” said 70s. He and BeachBob went to their respective edges. “Are you ready?”

Yeah.” BeachBob replied. “Are you?”

70s nodded. “Yeah. 1...”

CNF, who was on the side of the stadium that saw 70s cross his fingers ran forward, down the aisle. “NOOO!!! DON’T TRUST HIM!!!”

70s continued. “2...”

BeachBob looked up at CNF. “What?”

“HE’S A LIAR!” shouted CNF.

BeachBob scowled at his ex-friend. “So are you.” CNF was taken aback at the remark, even staggering back in shock.

70s finished. “3!”

BeachBob leapt off the stage and to his “doom”, being consumed in an explosion. 70s, however, only jumped in place in case BeachBob were watching him as he fell. When the explosion sounded, 70s grinned mischievously.

“That was incredibly out of character.” said JCM, who wasn’t on the side of the stage that saw 70s cross his fingers. “I just defended that guy! What’s going on?”

“Yeah! That was low!” said Clappy.

BeachBob came back onto the stage to an unsuspecting 70s. “You bastard.”

70s whipped around. “That’s how the game is played.”

The audience was unsure of what to feel about 70s.

“I don’t know how to feel for that guy.” said OMJ. “I’m guessing he got his competitive attitude from his father, but I didn’t think it would be this bad. It makes sense, but at the same time, it doesn’t make much sense at all.”

Smiles frowned. “I think he’s a bastard for what he did to BeachBob.”

“Actually, I think BeachBob should have seen that trick coming.” said Steel. “But I also don’t blame the guy because this all happened after he saw one of 70s’ memories, so maybe that caused BeachBob to inadvertently trust 70s or something similar. You know what? This episode has gone on too long for this shit.”

Webby was making his way back to the announcer’s box when he saw Dylan coming down the stairs, seething. Webby ran over to his pissed-off co-host. “What’s going on, dude?”

Dylan sighed. “It’s all about you around here. No one gives three shits about me.”

“What makes you say that?” asked Webby.

“ARE YOU BLIND?!” shouted Dylan at the top of his lungs. “They clean you up after you go through a wall. When I go ape shit crazy and look like a madman, everyone just laughs at me! I narrate, no one gives a crap. You narrate, it’s as if they’re listening to Morgan fucking Freeman! Ladies want you! Men want to be you! They barely remember me!”

“That’s because you don’t put forth enough effort to be recognized!” retorted Webby. “I’ve made myself a character of sorts and it stuck! People love it! You are just acting like yourself, and unless you naturally have charm and charisma, it doesn’t stick.”

“So you’re suggesting that I change my overall image?” asked Dylan.

Webby began to think. “That’s a start. You figure all of that out, because I have to go announce!” He rushed off and left Dylan alone to scheme.

SOF sat next to SG and began to watch the game while his boombox played freeform jazz. SG sighed and turned to him. “What do you want? Why are you all dressed up?”

SOF shrugged. “All dressed up and no place to go.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” asked a confused SG.

“So many questions!” said SOF slyly. “I just wanted to catch up on what happened during the game, because I was gone.”

SG sat in silence. “Y-you mean you aren’t trying to get me to like you?”

SOF shook his head. “Well, as nice as that would be, no.”

SG gaped. “What do you mean no? You’re dressed up! You have freeform jazz playing on that boombox! You reek of George Clooney cologne!”

“I’ve been like this the entire day.” said SOF, not taking his eyes off of the game. He knew very well that he didn’t have all of this on during the game, but it was all part of the plan. SG eyed him strangely and began to watch the game as well.

“It was very intriguing.” recounted SG. “He’s always been vying for my full attention ever since I got here, and now it’s almost like he’s ignoring me completely! Doesn’t he know what hard-to-get means?” She then began to think. “You know what? I’ll be easy on him, just so he gets the message.” She winked at the camera.

CF had tears streaming down her face. “Oh my god! I can’t believe I just...” She dissolved into tears and ran out of the confessional.

Wumbo, who was on his way in looked at the camera, confused. “What was that?”

Webby made it back up to the announcer’s box and resumed his duties. “Now it’s time to go into BeachBob’s memories!”

JCM then had a realization. “So this wasn’t Dylan’s idea?”

“Weren’t you listening?” asked Cha. “Webby announced it at the beginning!”

JCM gaped. “I don’t remember that! This episode is too long!”

“Lucky for you, I have a wonderful memory.” said Cha. “This is what he said, word-for-word-,”

“Thank you, Cha!” JCM said, frantically running off. Cha just giggled a bit.

Meanwhile, one of BeachBob’s memories had been chosen and was playing on the jumbo screen. It was a recent memory from when BeachBob discovered CNF’s bag.

BeachBob’s voice came from the jumbo screen, “CNF? Is this what I think it is?!”

What CNF had hidden in his hand couldn’t be seen. “Wait, BeachBob! I-I can explain!”

“Save it.” said BeachBob.

In present time, CNF was gaping. “No! NO!”

What BeachBob did next shocked the world. He waved goodbye to the audience and shouted something to CNF, which wasn’t audible. He then jumped off of the stage, taking his last life and his interrupted memory with him. An explosion sounded and the dumbstruck 70s had won.

"70s... wins?" announced Webby, as confused as everyone else.

"Hooray?" cheered Box, also confused.

CNf couldn't control himself. Tears began to gush down his face with tremendous force and he began to vocalize his grief through gut-wrenching, heart-breaking sobs. He couldn't believe that BeachBob sacrificed his fight to save him. People came over to comfort him, knowing that they were good friends.

Meanwhile, PokeSponge was interviewing the most confused person in the stadium, 70s.

"What do you think happened out there to make BeachBob forfeit his own fight?" asked PokeSponge.

"I honestly don't know." said 70s.

"What do you think people think about you after that flashback was shown?" asked PokeSponge.

"I honestly don't know." 70s repeated.

"Would you rather have had him win the fight?" PokeSponge asked, vying for real answers.

"I honestly don't know." 70s emphasized.

"What DO you know?" PokeSponge asked.

"Apparently, not a damn thing." said 70s walking off.

PokeSponge looked at the camera, frowning. "I hate my job."

Everyone left the stadium, leaving only CNF to ponder in the dark, alone.

BeachBob had arrived at his humble abode when he received a phone call. He answered it. "Hello?"

"BeachBob. It's me." said CNF. "Why did you sacrifice yourself for me? I thought you hated me."

Because I wanted it to be you that would man up and tell everyone what you have in that bag." BeachBob replied. "That and I knew I wouldn't stand a chance even if I did continue fighting. The odds were against me."

"I understand." said CNF. "I'm sorry for-,"

"Don't apologize." interjected BeachBob. "Do the right thing."

"Right." acknowledged CNF. He then thought of something. "Before you jumped, you said something to me, but I couldn't hear you. What did you say?"

"I said, 'It's all up to you now.' Goodbye." BeachBob proceeded to hang up before CNF on the other line stopped him.

"I'm in the next fight. It's me versus Metal Snake. I'll grow a pair and own up then."

CNF hung up before BeachBob could. BeachBob looked at his TV. "I'll be watching, CNF. Break a leg."

(Yes, CNF, that was a reference to one of your spin-offs)

ROOM 8

Metal Snake was sitting at the edge of his bed when CM, SpongeSebastian, and Teenj walked in and sat next to him.

"You'll kick ass." reassured CM. "I promise.

"I'm not so sure." said Metal Snake. "Or maybe you didn't see the muscles on CNF lately."

"Yeah, maybe he is strong, but you're a giant fucking metal snake!" shouted SpongeSeb. "It doesn't matter how strong he is! You can bite him and viola!"

"There's no need to worry." said Teenj. "You'll win for sure."

Metal Snake smiled meekly. "Thanks guys. It's pretty late, so I'll call it a night."

"G'Night." said his roommates as they, too, succumbed to their beds to sleep.

ROOM 1

CF was crying uncontrollably when Smiles came into the room. She ran over to the weeping roommate. "What's the matter?"

"I-it's Dragiiin." said CF. "I..."

"You what?" asked Smiles.

"It's too horrible..." blubbered CF.

"You can tell me anything." reassured Smiles. "I won't think differently of you. What did Dragiiin do?"

CF wiped her eyes. "I had sex with him."

TO BE CONTINUED

[Macseed]

Yay I've been waiting for this! This is a really awesome ep.

[shin]

oh my god that last bit. LOL

can't wait for my fight! *o*

[crushingmayhem]

Pretty nice. Hope to see more.

[ClassicNickelodeon Fan 1]

...

Wow, just wow. That was an amazing episode Webby. The best episode of this entire series I'd say. It had action, emotion. Everything just worked perfectly!

Oh and I loved the whole sex thing at the end and the reference to Break A Leg!

[Webizoid]

The next installment should be ready by either the end of this month or the beginning of the next!

[Webizoid]

Since it takes me forever to write episodes, I've decided to write a few at once, then post them one by one to bide me time to write another one. I don't like how this spin-off isn't updated very much.

That said, I will get to writing those episodes soon. Stay tuned!

[ClassicNickelodeon Fan 1]

My reaction: :D :D