06-09-2015, 06:27 PM
Mickey thought it obscene, but the space marine’s gesture essentially summed up the room’s feelings toward their hosts, the ever elusive Karl Jak.
It struck Mickey that this was the first time he had met the man. On the island, they had had to hear his disembodied voice every six hours, declaring the names of dead contestants one right after another, like clockwork. Looking at him for the first time felt strangely like a reward for placing so highly in this competition. He was a much slimier looking man than Mickey expected, which said a lot.
The marine pondered over his choice relatively quickly, swiping up the mysterious looking dagger and marching out of the room, shouting obscenities as he went. Mickey’s lips curled into a frown as he huddled behind Samus’ leg, trying his best to stay away from the rest of his former opponents.
“#14 Mickey Mouse,” Karl Jak hissed, and the mouse tentatively detached himself from his bounty hunter friend to approach the table.
He approached the table, swallowing his nerves. He didn’t really know why he was nervous now—the competition was over—but being in the same room as five people who had tried to kill him just a few hours ago had its potential drawbacks.
The table stood higher than his height.
Behind him, he heard giggling from some of the other competitors. His face wrinkled up, embarrassment washing over him. If he could blush, he would have. He contemplated trying to clamber up it, but was afraid he’d fall down. Amazingly, even after doing battle with most of these men and women, he still feared making a fool out of himself in front of them. Luckily, someone came to the rescue.
“SHUT UP OR I’LL CLOBBER YOU!” the voice of Monkey D. Luffy rang throughout the crowded boardroom. “It’s okay, panther-man,” his stretchy friend assured him, shooting a nasty glare at the couple of competitors that had decided to find amusement in the mouse’s stature. “Laugh at my Nakara and you have me to deal with,” he jeered at the people littering the room. The pirate-captain approached Mickey, and stretched out his arms, picking up the King and lifting him up until he sat firmly on the man’s rubbery shoulders.
“Take your pick, Mr. Mouse,” Karl Jak smirked, his voice oozing grossness. From this vantage point, Mickey could see all the grease in his hair. He was repulsed.
Not one of the items on the table looked the same as the next. A pair of boots, a glittering tiara, and a pair of yellow, spherical earrings made up just a few of the myriad of choices Karl Jak presented him with. He couldn’t possibly decide.
Behind him, the familiar scoff of Deadpool blanketed the room. “Your big-ass ears need some decoration, murderer,” he remarked snidely, and then muttered something resentful about being used as a plot device. Mickey’s gaze turned to the mercenary, his eyes shooting daggers into the masked man. Spite overflowing, he turned back to his selections.
“Yeah, the earrings,” he nodded, waving for Luffy to pick them up and give them to him. Mugiwara obliged, and then slowly helped Mickey slide off of his shoulders. The mouse exhaled, turning around and looking down the line at his former competitors.
That was it. It was over. He’d never have to do this again.
A smile growing on his face and a newfound spring in his step, he started to skip out of the room, throwing up a hand to wave good-bye as he left. “See ya Samus, Luffy! Good game everybody!”
And with a grin, Mickey Mouse left Dante’s Abyss for good.
It struck Mickey that this was the first time he had met the man. On the island, they had had to hear his disembodied voice every six hours, declaring the names of dead contestants one right after another, like clockwork. Looking at him for the first time felt strangely like a reward for placing so highly in this competition. He was a much slimier looking man than Mickey expected, which said a lot.
The marine pondered over his choice relatively quickly, swiping up the mysterious looking dagger and marching out of the room, shouting obscenities as he went. Mickey’s lips curled into a frown as he huddled behind Samus’ leg, trying his best to stay away from the rest of his former opponents.
“#14 Mickey Mouse,” Karl Jak hissed, and the mouse tentatively detached himself from his bounty hunter friend to approach the table.
He approached the table, swallowing his nerves. He didn’t really know why he was nervous now—the competition was over—but being in the same room as five people who had tried to kill him just a few hours ago had its potential drawbacks.
The table stood higher than his height.
Behind him, he heard giggling from some of the other competitors. His face wrinkled up, embarrassment washing over him. If he could blush, he would have. He contemplated trying to clamber up it, but was afraid he’d fall down. Amazingly, even after doing battle with most of these men and women, he still feared making a fool out of himself in front of them. Luckily, someone came to the rescue.
“SHUT UP OR I’LL CLOBBER YOU!” the voice of Monkey D. Luffy rang throughout the crowded boardroom. “It’s okay, panther-man,” his stretchy friend assured him, shooting a nasty glare at the couple of competitors that had decided to find amusement in the mouse’s stature. “Laugh at my Nakara and you have me to deal with,” he jeered at the people littering the room. The pirate-captain approached Mickey, and stretched out his arms, picking up the King and lifting him up until he sat firmly on the man’s rubbery shoulders.
“Take your pick, Mr. Mouse,” Karl Jak smirked, his voice oozing grossness. From this vantage point, Mickey could see all the grease in his hair. He was repulsed.
Not one of the items on the table looked the same as the next. A pair of boots, a glittering tiara, and a pair of yellow, spherical earrings made up just a few of the myriad of choices Karl Jak presented him with. He couldn’t possibly decide.
Behind him, the familiar scoff of Deadpool blanketed the room. “Your big-ass ears need some decoration, murderer,” he remarked snidely, and then muttered something resentful about being used as a plot device. Mickey’s gaze turned to the mercenary, his eyes shooting daggers into the masked man. Spite overflowing, he turned back to his selections.
“Yeah, the earrings,” he nodded, waving for Luffy to pick them up and give them to him. Mugiwara obliged, and then slowly helped Mickey slide off of his shoulders. The mouse exhaled, turning around and looking down the line at his former competitors.
That was it. It was over. He’d never have to do this again.
A smile growing on his face and a newfound spring in his step, he started to skip out of the room, throwing up a hand to wave good-bye as he left. “See ya Samus, Luffy! Good game everybody!”
And with a grin, Mickey Mouse left Dante’s Abyss for good.
![[Image: 2agonyw.png]](http://i68.tinypic.com/2agonyw.png)