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[King Ghidorah]

Channel 199,79,797 - The Stupidity Channel - Probably Doomed (episode 98): The Tarrasque, and other beasts.  

 

We fade in on a pair of men, filmed from the rear, walking down a very gloomy road in a very gloomy place. They're both dark-haired and young, dressed in preppy wind-breakers and dungaree shorts with high-top sneakers. One of them is wearing a sport-visor, and has slightly larger ears. The other has a flattop haircut. They both have on sunglasses in spite of the gloomy weather. The sky overhead is grey, the grass all around is greenish-grey, and the dirt on the road is brownish-grey. The camera, evidently held by a third man, wobbles and shakes as it follows them. 

The one in the visor is talking to the other guy in hushed tones, muttering things like "you're sure it's gonna be here man?" and getting replies like "yeah bro I'm positive." It's a windy day and the mic pickup is a little bit oversensitive, so we're getting that vague breathy rustling sound which arises from hand-held camcorders when used outdoors.  After about ten seconds he turns to face the camera, now walking backwards. He has a grin on his face that says he either just got married or he's about to get laid. "Hey! MY people! Welcome to Probably Doomed. I'm Mitch, and this is my boy Archibald - Archy if you're dirty."

He jerks his thumb at the other young man, who looks over his shoulder at the camera and says, "You don't know anybody dirty enough to call me Archy and get away with it Mitch," but he's smiling almost as wide as his partner. 

Mitch laughs. "You're probably right dude. Anyway, we've got a hell of a show today. For those of you that aren't familiar with our fine program, I'm immortal, and I do stupid shit. Like, fatally stupid shit - and I do it for your entertainment! You sick fucking animals." 

He takes off his sunglasses and stares at the camera for a moment, and the look on his face is haunting. It contains all of the pain and trauma of dozens, if not hundreds of horrifying and frequently undignified deaths. It's the face of a man gazing in judgement at God from the slopes of hell. 

Then he smiles again and its like flipping a light switch - all the stress-lines and shadows disappear. One way or the other, he must be an incredibly talented actor. He puts his sunglasses back on. "Naaaah, I'm just messing with ya. What's gonna kill me today, Archibald?"

Archibald glances over his shoulder again and points ahead of them, to where the road disappears over the crest of a hill. "It's just over that ridge, bro." He reaches into the pocket of his windbreaker and pulls out an olivewood cheese-knife (suitable for cutting fine cheeses, and nothing else), which he hands to Mitch. "Here, you're gonna need this." 

Mitch, still walking backwards, holds up the cheese knife for the camera and puts on a Serious Business face. "Olivewood cheese-knife. Weapon of Kings." he says. "Yeah, I know what it is. I eat fine cheeses - Fuckin' epicurean up in here. So, now that I'm strapped, let's see what we got."  

Cresting the top of the hill, both men, as well as the viewing audience, are treated to a view of horror. About a quarter-mile away, a path of utter destruction has been carved through a deciduous forest by an enormous earth-toned creature, a lumbering mass of teeth, spikes and armor plating easily the size of a house. Each individual claw on of its wicked talons is the size of a man, and the forest of bony protrusions lining its armored shell are just as large, and viciously curved. It's mouth is large enough to swallow a cart-horse whole, and lined with a triple-row of serrated teeth. It howls, like a steam engine exploding in a bell-factory, and the sound cuts out. The picture moves frantically for a couple of seconds, and then skips. The monster is further away now, and Mitch and Archy are crouching instead of standing, but the camera is steady again and the sound is back.

"Sorry about that," says Mitch, talking too loudly in the manner of a person with severe tinnitus. "Asshole monster fried our mics." He turns to his partner. "What is this thing?"  

"It's the Tarrasque, bro." says Archibald. "It's a straight-up Beast of Legend. You're gonna fight it." 

"With the Cheese-knife?" asks Mitch.

Archibald nods. "With the motherfuckin' cheese-knife."

"What are my chances?"

"Probably Doomed."

"Bitchin'." says Mitch. He stands up and turns to the camera. "Make sure you get this!"

Mitch takes off his sunglasses and his jacket leaving him in an undershirt and dungarees, raises the cheese knife over his head, and takes a deep, deep breath. Then, he runs screaming down the hill towards the forest. It takes him a couple of minutes, and he has to pause for breath a few times, but eventually we see a tiny, shirtless figure emerge into the clearing that surrounds the beasts mindless rampage, run up to the monster, and begin doinking it in the ankle with something too small to see at this distance - presumably the cheese-knife. 

The Tarrasque turns around with unnatural agility for a beast its size, knocking over trees with its tail, and swallows him whole. The clack of its teeth slamming together is audible, even from this distance, and both Archibald and the cameraman wince and give sympathetic "OOOOoooohhh"s.  

Archibald faces the camera. "Well, that was predictable - but it's probably not the only thing that you're gonna see eat my main man today. We'll back after the break! Show some love - stick around!"