Celebrity Fight Club: The End is Nye

By, Revvie



-Vrooo-

An engine roared, and caught Jason (a “friend” of mine) while he roamed never never land. No, truly the er tends to get lost in himself. And honestly, for a sixteen year old, his is still a bit excessive. Jadoa stepped out of his house, adorned in look of a Saint; a Boondock Saint.

Cabbage sat in the vehicle, a sweet ass black coated 1967 Chevy Impala. This of course wasn’t actually his car. Realistically, Cabbage was a moronic stoner, with a tendency towards being stoned ten/tenths of the time. I am not even ing kidding, and the fact Jadoa hung with him was a mystery to everyone; myself included. I mean honestly, this is a second hand story. I heard it from them, and am conveying it to you as a simple Halloween tale. Ok, enough about me, back to Jason and Cabbage. Wait, no, one more thing about me; my name is Tommy.

Jadoa walked with whimsical waves of movement; slick and subtle. The concrete clicked beneath him, and a holstered paintball gun dangled under his jacket. He was a Saint, but when he found himself at the vehicle…well, Cabbage wasn’t the other Saint as promised. Instead the lanky fellow, with cheeks of a doll, wore an all pink outfit. A pink hood hid his face, but revealed his eyes and mouth.

Cabbage smiled when I opened the door, “I’M READY!”

“What the man, I though we had a deal. We were gonna be the Boondock Saints. You were supposed to dress up as Patrick Flannery’s character, and I was Norman Reedus one; remember?”

“I rememba somethin’ bout Patrick.”

The Solo Saint was angry, not surprised (because, well, Cabbage is kind of a ing moron), but angry that he was not seated next to “Patrick” from Spongebob. “Great, just ing great. Well, at least you have a handle on your current choice of costume.”

“Whatchu mean, maan?”

Jadoa dropped himself down into the passenger seat, and eased the door shut. No one is really sure where Cabbage borrowed the car from that night, or where it is now. “Let’s just get going, I don’t want to talk about it anymore; not worth it.”

“Riite riite; heardchu were uninvited to Luke’s party.”

“Uninvited?”

The car roared to life, as Cabbage dropped it into drive; Jadoa could barely make his words out of the whirl of the engine. That, and Cabbage didn’t bother to yell. Why would he? That would involve paying attention. “Yea man, dey did a big announcy thingy the day you was gone. Man, dey openly uninvitedcha.”

Jason just rolled his eyes, what more could he really do right then? Did it mean it wasn’t going to the party? Oddly, the answers were simple to him; of course he didn’t give a crap what Luke said, and he damn well was going to see Sarah at the party. Prove to her something…something.

“So ya like my costume?”

“You know, you’re lucky tonight is only super important to me. Because I might be embarrassed with you otherwise.”

“Riite on, Riite on man,” Cabbage didn’t grasp sarcasm well, or anything else; at all.

“I am just not going to worry about it,” Jason sometimes had a habit of just talking; talking about himself, thoughts, ideas, etc. He would just start ranting, and it would turn into these huge sermons on various topics. Smart, but a little cocky, and overshot his mark more than most people really knew. Then again, most people really don’t know Jadoa; not even those closest to him. “I mean, I think if she sees me, then she will understand. I guess I sound a bit crazy, but aren’t we supposed to know love. Great now I am talking in clichés here.”

Cabbage didn’t say anything, because he wasn’t paying Jason any damn attention. And just like that, the Bikini Bottom Saints were on their way…to a nightmare.


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Jason and Cabbage had to park down the road from the party. The number of cars was deafening on the eyes, “Dis party looks rightchus man.”

“And you look like a dumb starfish.”

“Thanks man, always feelin’ da love for my character portrayal.” Of course Jadoa had meant it as an insult, but I guess that everything truly IS in the eye of the beholder; that is honestly, my best explanation for Cabbage right now.

The two of them walked on towards their fate, with the lively and loquacious party in full riot. I will admit that didn’t still didn’t know what was coming, but Jason later laid claim to a rotten ruckus in his gut before. Which he had attributed to the Sarah/Luke situation, but I guess he was wrong. Really, Really, Really…REALLY (did I say really) wrong.

Cabbage piped back up, while Jason road on the end of a thought he would never get to finish. “Whatcha think man? Play cool, or are we startin’ crap?”

“No crap to be started. We are going to a party, that is all there is about this. The rest of what happens we will just figure out and deal with.”

“Like, we tossed to da streets?”

“Just shut the up Cabbage, aren’t you supposed to be a stupid starfish? How about you try acting dumb quietly.” Oh god, even having to write that part out…can’t help but end up in tears. Cabbage “acting” dumb, oh lord, that is just good stuff.

“Uhhhh, is mayonnaise an instrument?”

Jason struck gold, because as those words protruded from Cabbage pink hood, they also arrived at the house; 1408 King Street. He didn’t wait around on brilliant friend, and instead barreled forth down the walkway. He could see costumes covering numerous classmates, and possibly many who weren’t. The masks made it hard to tell, but Playboy bunnies shook their little tails when he grinned at them. The four dressed as the drunken avengers were playing beer pong on the front lawn, but it looked like the Hulk was about to smash the table with is face; SMASHED HULK SMASH!

But I digress, they were passerby thoughts to our Saint, and Jadoa focused on the cool. Which seemed a poorly thought out of plan of just “looking” like he had his crap together. He did this by weighing his legs and feet down into a slow stride; cocky. His outfit gave him the baddassery needed to net a few winks, but none of them were Sarah; could ever be Sarah.

Jason landed first in the living room, but had to take a pit stop as a zombie wearing a Sheriff’s uniform, and side holster. The shambles amble by him with no hurry. Apparently the guy was VERY into the character, and our hero was actually tempted to pelt him in the head with a paintball if he didn’t move it the along.

When he finally cleared him, Jadoa actually ended up dodging back behind the doddering dead. Luke could clearly be seen up ahead, dressed in lab coat and bow tie. His lady, Elizabeth (From Bioshock Infinite for you who don’t know), gave away a beautiful blue and white dress. Of course, they were Luke and Sarah…well, for the moment.

The two were standing up at edge of the kitchen, and Jadoa’s mind hemmoraged when Luke slid his arms around her. It was taunting, unintentional taunting, but did it matter? Jason felt his blood writhe beneath the skin, and once again appealed to a higher power to keep him from giving Bill Nye a free paint job. He decided against this action, and hurried from the living room to the back hall stairs (and probably should have run again). Cabbage sat on the stairwell peddling a jay between a few others. People flocked to him without much effort, but that was because he was always holding; always.

“Jase, maan, so didja findem?” Cabbage eyes were a glossy red from the fresh high, but his words carried easy.

“I found them, but it wasn’t the right time.”

“Riite riite, hey bitches betta be passin’ that crap to my buddy here; his crap is messed up.” Oddly enough, the command was heeded by another a bow tie, but this one came with an odd jacket and gangly gait.

The second bow tie smiled wide, and appeared to have no eyebrows, “You know, I am quite fluent in Starfish…well, that and baby.”

“Of course you are,” Jadoa nodded, and took a quick toke before throwing it back out to Cabbage.

He tried to squeeze by his old buddy, to get up the steps, and probably as far away as he could possibly get from his pink partner. This didn’t work, Cabbage followed him on up the stairwell, and into the first bedroom they could find. Jadoa just wanted to unwind, and no one is sure what the Cabbage is ever really doing.

The room was empty of people but filled with leftover cups, condoms, and a distressed mattress. It probably like walking into the afterhours of a brothel, plenty of booze but no babes left for the plunder. Then again, I am always broke, and don’t really care for the idea of spending a lot on getting some. Okay, need to get back on point, this story isn’t about me; sorry again.

So yea, they walked into the empty room that appeared raided by bandits. Jason paced back and forth with his thinking face on, while Cabbage stood dumbfounded (with an emphasis on dumb), “Watcha thinkin’ bout?”

“How to get to Elizabeth without alerting our pal Nye.”

“Who?”

Jason let his eyes glide, “Luke and Sarah.”

“Oh, riite, because they be all dressed up and crap.”

“Right, anyways, I just know if I can get her alone, I am certain we can work this crap out between us.”

I should probably state that love makes you stupid, and a broken heart is like a break from a crack addiction. You get itchy for the good stuff, and that is where Jadoa found himself, itchy, and deluded by an idea that she would be willing to give him a scratch. Cabbage, he was still just dumb, “Us?”

“Me and Sarah, are you even paying attention?”

“Sarah and I.”

Jason stopped his pacing at the remark, but not because of the remark. Two lovely ladies waltzed in; twins. They were dressed as The Twins from the Matrix, and it was quite the costume if I do say so myself (I saw a picture, they were hot, sorry I cannot deny my eyes).

“What are you boys doing in here?” One of the twins spoke, and was eerily finished by the other, “Wait, or is it one boy and one man?”

The second speaker gave our Saint a wink, and he forgot about Sarah. For someone in love, it would seem hard to believe. Then again, he wasn’t thinking his heart, but instead focused with his hard-on. However, the boner was doomed to fail in its endeavor.

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It was dark now in the house, at the party, and in the room of lust. Nothing was visible when the change came, and nothing could stop it. The black caused Jadoa’s stomach to churn, and his head followed him into a daze. Something was very, very, very (did I say very?) wrong. The groans of all four of them could be heard as they mutated…into their attire.

The lights flickered, and then returned to full luminesce. In its wake, it revealed the situation in a light that none of them were ready for. The hot twins were now two men, Cabbage was literally Patrick, a giant pink starfish, and Jason peered into a mirror on the wall to see a young Norman Reedus staring back.

“Uhh, Spongebob? Where’s Spongebob?”

The Saint threw out words with an Irish glaze, “Shuttup, we have work to do.”

They were all out of their minds at this point, or that is my assumption. I cannot be sure what is considered “out of your mind” if everyone at a party temporarily becomes their costume of choice. The Twin’s choice for a Matrix set of counterpart, did not prove fortuitous for Bikini Bottom Saints.

Matrix Twin’s glared through their shades, but said nothing. Then, without warning, they posed as if ready to fight. The Saint grabbed for his silenced gun, and fired off a round; only to reveal a blue paint spot on one of the twin’s heads. “So much for the boomstick approach,” with that sentence out, our Saint latched hold of Patrick and pulled him into the hall.

There were numerous bedrooms, and doors to hide in, but they didn’t do much thinking and just kept running.

Play while reading, it will enhance the experience…or maybe it won’t.
Chase Music

So they kept running into the next door, with the Twins right at their tail end. The whole group ended went into the next room, but as they all had entered, Patrick and the Saint came out the door and into one a few doors further down the hall. The Twins came out, looked around, and paused.

A starfish peaked from a door near the two, looked at them, and then ran back into the room. This led the twins into the room, but again they were evaded by another slip of the door. They weren’t in the matrix, or maybe that would have helped, I don’t know but this whole thing was ridiculous. They poured out of one room, and were actually followed by our two heroes.

This moment was short lived, as they realized the mistake and turned around. The Saint pulled Patrick along through door after door before finally making a break for the stairs. He didn’t want to be seen, and needed to get the hell out of there; they both did. Actually, a young Boondock Saint would have been fine, but his buddy the star fish didn’t have the kind of mobility the fight would entail.

They reached the bottom step, but the insanity below wasn’t better in odds. The entire part was rife with insanity. Zombies trying to chew open skulls of bronies, and every other thing they could get their hands on. Not to mention the person who thought it would be funny to be a giant penis for Halloween. This all made for a mess, but no one was paying them any attention as he tried to stealthily pull his big pink buddy along.

“I’m scared, and I get hungry when I am scared.” Patrick tugged towards the kitchen, but the Saint was stronger.

“We have business to attend to my brother, and to let those know that…”

“I want my rock,” and the big starfish started to sob incessantly.

“It’s gonna be alright, once we find the evil Nye, I’ll getcha home, but I need your help.” The Irish accent was thick, but Patrick nodded in compliance. I guess he didn’t have much choice, and the choices seemed bonkers anyways.

Patrick and the Saint took a detour passed the kitchen and into the den. They didn’t find any freaks back there luckily. Just the two playboy bunnies earlier, who were now actual bunnies. They posed no threat at they hopped towards the two of them, but a Pink extremity struck one and sent it flying, “I DON’T LIKE BUNNIES!” The Saint just pulled the starfish on, and they were soon out of the den.

Another stairwell lingered at the end of small hall, but this one led to the depths of the horror show; not the suites they and wandered into earlier. Science could be heard in an echo belched from the belly of the basement. If you are wondering what exactly that sounds like. Well it is a lot of machines wizzing, and chirping. Stuff brewing, and laser’s zapping. Actually, I don’t know if that is anything like what a lab sounds like. But damnit, there was science stuff going on down there, and the Irishman could sense in it is liquored veins.

So yea, lots of sciency noised radiated up at the two, “I don’t wanna go down there, I don’t like the way the sounds are looking at me.” Patrick’s words were off, but his statement held validity. Not any validity that the Saint cared about, but still validity.

“We have to save them from their deeds; the corrupt must pay.”

The Saint didn’t speak, but walked on down the old (and very much creaky) steps. It cried beneath his feet, and wailed into oblivion beneath Patrick. Each of them etched forward, and the sounds grew in decibel. They could smell chemicals, and taste stale air. They could…actually I don’t know what the hell they sensed; they never told me.

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They were now standing in the lab; the Bikini Bottom Saints looked at the crazy below with open minds, and clenched sphincters. Cylinders laced tables, filled with various liquids of various color and contents. A table in the middle of the room had a dead body stashed atop it, with numerous wires running to numerous pieces of equipment. A lot of the stuff, blinked, made noise, and was probably dangerous.

Not that Patrick noticed, “TOUCH!”

The Saint just kept moving, ignoring the ignoramus. He was only reminded of his existence by his yelling of the word “touch” every minute. Okay, so maybe it was harder to ignore him than just tuning him out, but the room was still filled with many things one could get lost in mentally (or killed by physically; whichever you prefer; Patrick preferred a twofer).

“TOUCH!”

Not much had happened, when a madness of laughter boasted from a bow tie at the back of the room. Elizabeth (or Sarah for you morons who don’t follow along) was hoisted up in cage above, which was only visible because of the spotlights that now flooded the ceiling. The evil Bill Nye below continued a with a bit maniacal, and probably hilarious, laughter.

“I hope you’re ready to learn, because I have amazing show planned. Today we will see what happens when you reanimate a corpse, and have it destroy some crazy religious people!”

Then he pulled a lever that was nearby (of course, there is always a lever nearby a mad scientist), and light rained into the basement. It blotted out everything, and yet Patrick could still be heard, “TOUCH!”

It didn’t matter, because like the black out, things had changed when it dulled out. The Saints eyes adjusted, and I have to be honest…they were still mutated freaks in their attire, but now the dead man on the table lived!

The giant green monster broke his bonds like they were paper, and both Patrick and the Saint stared at the creature. Nye laughed more and more, until he started to choke and cough. Elizabeth said nothing in her cage, but watched the events unfold. The neck bolted thing shook the ground with each boot, before it stopped right at the Saint.

It bent over, and looked him in the eye, with a growl on its face, “Sometimes, dead is better.” Then the creature smiled, and promptly killed over to everyone’s surprise.

Patrick took initiative, “TOUCH!”

Nye looked at the two of them, and then back up at the cage with Elizabeth in it. He skimmed for an escape, but there was none. The Saint now stepped into view.

“There are varying degrees of evil. We urge you lesser forms of filth not to push the bounds and cross over into true corruption, into our domain.”

The Saint drew his gun again, but it was still only a paintball gun. However; in the shadow of the lights, Nye could not possibly tell the difference. He squirmed in place, but never once pleaded for his life, or to any god.

“No! You can’t!” Elizabeth screamed.

Elizabeth didn’t skip a beat, and tore hole in the space time fabric. The tear ripped through the standoff and sent both The Saint and Bill Nye into a universe, and another time period.

Now the two men stood toe to toe in a wrestling ring.

-FIN-