Mock Fight: Sans and Judy Hopps vs Red Hood

[Sans]

Welcome to Coruscant

Up until the robbery, Sans thought Coruscant wasn't actually half-bad a place to live.

Or, more accurately, the job he had wasn't half-bad. Life in Coruscant wasn't the greatest just because of the lack of civil rights citizens had there. The concept of 'freedom of speech' apparently didn't exist, a fact the skeleton learned when he first arrived. He had been basking in the warmth of a bright sunshine while laying in a field of grass, smelling the luscious aroma of flowers and early morning dew. Roughly two minutes had passed when a pair of cops (whom he'd later figure out were called 'stormtroopers') showed up.

The 'stormtroopers' had walked over to him and demanded to know why he was loitering around in the park. The comic hadn't exactly taken what they were saying seriously and made several light-hearted jabs at their expense. That was all they needed for them to run him in and force him to do community service.

He did at least get the option to choose which job he would get so he naturally took the one where he could basically do nothing all day: banking. The officers had then escorted him down to Tier 2, where they showed him his apartment and then his workplace: The Empire's National Bank. Its walls were made of pristine steel that resembled the smooth, sparkling skyscrapers that towered over everything else in the tier. If it wasn't for the unwelcoming first impression, he might have been fooled into believing it was a nice place to live, if the awe-inspiring towers, almost-lifelike sky, and a littler number of cameras and guards around every corner wasn't just a half-hearted attempt to conceal what everyone already knew.

The banks size was rather deceptive. It was small but wide on the outside before morphing into a gihugic --a combination of 'huge' and 'gigantic;' a word made up by Sans-- space on the inside. The entire building was comprised of three rooms: the lobby, the offices, and the server room. The lobby was the room every customer and employee saw when they entered. It was the largest room by far and was fairly open, almost nothing blocking the path from the entrance to the counter where most of the staff worked. The counter served one purpose: to download the requested amount of money onto a client's 'credit chit' through the employee's designated computer. Once the employee plugged in the little metal chit into his/her computer, it would transmit a signal to the upper floors where the server room was located before downloading the requested amount of money into the chit. The comedian's computer was number eight, placed near the very end of the counter.

Every day, from 8 to 6, the skeleton would get up, eat breakfast, then leave to go do his job. He would walk in, exchange pleasantries with his fellow employees before moving behind the counter to take a seat on his leather chair. He would then lay in his seat, occasionally taking somebody's chit to plug into the computer before waiting an hour or so for it to download fully. He got a good laugh out of seeing the frustration on his client's faces as the little green meter on the computer screen slowly increased. He figured he should've been telling the manager that he hadn't gotten the memo to update his computer to fit into the new servers that resulted in faulty internet and thus incredibly slow download speed.

but where was the fun in that? he would always rationalize. It's not like he LOVED his job so much he'd do anything to keep it.

When it was time for closing, he and the rest of his coworkers would be ordered to reach up towards small, metal shutters that covered the windows of the counter, and pull them down. Extra security for an extra-secure realm, apparently. His manager had also told him of the bank's 'silent alarm,' which was a small red button placed about two chairs away from where he sat. It was directly underneath the counter, out of sight.

It was starting to look pretty darn inviting considering he had a gun to his nose socket.

The Red Hood Gang

He glanced towards the computer he was using: number 8. He read the time displayed on the bottom right hand corner of its screen: 8:30 AM. It had been five minutes since they had entered and locked down the place. A six man squad of adult humans had waltzed in like they owned the place and one of the firsts thing they did was pull out their weapons and shout at the top of their lungs for everyone to get on the ground. Everyone obeyed them, obviously.

Each criminal wore standard civilian attire which, under normal circumstances, made them look no different than the average citizen. What distinguished them, however, were their blood red ski masks they wore over their faces. Those masks muffled their voices, deepening them until their speech resembled an abomination of the human language, spoken with nothing more than electronic warps and warbles. All of them were also armed with some type of modern machine gun you'd see in an old war movie where they burned jungles and shot Asian people.

They kept two of their own near the entrance, standing guard in case someone saw through the 'The Bank is now CLOSED' sign. Another two were standing on the other side of the counter to his left in front of dozens of bound and gagged civilians. One leaned against the wall close to the door, silently observing the robbery take place. The last one was standing directly in front of the skeletal employee, machine gun in hand and aimed at his face. He had on a blue, tight-collared shirt that wouldn't have looked out of place in an office building. The skeleton couldn't help but note the irony in his clothing choice.

“No funny business, creep. I got more than enough bullets in this thing to kill you at this range,” he said, shoving his gun forward to accentuate his point.

“y-yeah, i, uh, i understand...” Sans said, nodding nervously as he looked back towards the gunner threatening him.

The monster listened as the faint sound of a female crying reverberated around the lobby followed by a loud WHACK as one of the gang members smacked the butt of his gun against the offender. He forced himself to look away. He was just going to have to take it. Endure it and give the criminals what they wanted. Not like he had much of an option, anyway.

“Pearson! How's the status on the download?” shouted the red-hooded man leaning against the wall. Pearson remained silent as he raised his weapon slightly, obviously expecting an answer.

The skeleton looked back towards the screen. The meter had barely gotten past 2%.

“it's about... halfway or so.. give it a couple more minutes..” he fibbed, chuckling a little as the blue-shirted man turned right back around, shouting back at the wall-leaner.

Through only that small interaction, the skeleton could have taken a guess as to who was what and what they did. He wasn't one-hundred percent certain, but he had a feeling that the man on the wall (whom no one ever called by name for some reason,) was their leader, and the gunman in front of him was named Pearson and the wall-leaner's second-in-command.

He looked down towards the red button for the silent alarm, seeing it was still out of reach. The one thing that could let him control the situation, and it was out of his reach. He couldn't say he was surprised by that. If he could just get the guy in front of him to stop paying attention....

The undead corpse coughed, drawing Pearson's attention. He said “sorry. was just, uh, thinking of a joke.”

“Nothing funny about an operation taking far longer than it needs to.”

“well, ya know, ya can't bank on technology going your way, ya know?”

“What are y-” he replied before pausing. He stared at the corpse, shaking his head, “I'll admit that I walked into that one.”

“Walked into what now, Pearson?” hollered one of the two gunmen overseeing the hostages.

“You can't 'bank' on technology going your way, you know?” he replied in a gruff tone, looking away from the skeletal employee.

Sans' smile grew wider as the two hostage overseers started loudly snickering, earning a scowl from the blue-shirted second-in-command. He quickly ordered them to knock it off as they started hooting and hollering. His efforts proved futile as their laughter grew louder and louder, one of them almost dropping his gun as Pearson tried to get their wits back in order. He was totally unaware of the skeletal comedian diving to his left and then slapping the silent alarm button. By the time he had looked back, seething from the unprofessional attitudes of his workers, the skeleton was back in his chair as if nothing had happened.

Sans didn't quite know what the exact response time was for the police on Tier 2, just that it probably wasn't instantaneous. If he was lucky, stormtroopers would be inside in a couple of minutes at the most.

He just needed to hold out.

“What is this?!” the second-in-command said as he leaned over the counter, staring at the screen. The green meter had just passed 5%.

The skeleton's white pupils shrunk in size as he looked at the screen, seeing his lies revealed. He remained silent as Pearson stomped towards his leader, cursing a blue streak the entire way.

The room became eerily quiet as he reached the leader. Sans observed them the entire time, seeing Pearson slowly nod towards his leader, noticeably tense. The monster's eyes narrowed as the second-in-command walked towards the overseers. Shivers flew down his spine as the man moved his finger up to his neck, slicing it across his throat.

Sans' heart sunk as gunshots and muffled screams reverberated around the bank. He shut his eyes, trying desperately to keep his ridiculous smile from faltering in front of the others. He felt the edges of his mouth quiver, tears forming in his eyes.

The gunman from before stepped in front of him, gun pointed directly at his face. He held his hands up in surrender, squeezing away the tears as he opened his eyes. He tried to keep his goofy tone of voice intact as he quietly begged.

“hey! woah, woah! ya don't gotta do this, dude! i've been helpin' ya and your gang!”

“Sorry, bonehead,” he replied, cocking his gun, “but the op's a failure. The Red Hood gang doesn't have time for your absolutely pathetic processor, so we're bailing. And since we're bailing, we can't afford to have witnesses. Tier 2 is tight enough as it is without having to worry about snitches ratting us out whereever we go.”

“hey, i'm a good liar! i could just say it was ritualistic suicide! they might buy it!”

“Exactly. It's why we can't trust you to keep a secret.”

For once, the skeleton had no witty response. He closed his eyes, drawing away from the barrel of the gun as it slid over the counter. He braced himself for the inevitable.

He heard the sound of an explosion, followed by screams of pain as he opened his eyes. He looked at the entrance to the bank, seeing two gang members on the ground, writhing in pain. Standing above them were two stormtroopers, one of which was aiming at the Red Hood Gang's leader. The second was aiming at the hostage overseers, demanding they get on the ground. Finally, there was... a bunny.

He wasn't going to bother asking.

Taking advantage of the distraction, he leaped into the air and grabbed hold of the shutter. Before Pearson could realize what was happening, his hand was crushed as the skeleton slammed the shutter down onto his fingers, his gun barely poking out from the bottom.

Intro Post for Sans complete! Next post goes to Red Hood.

[Red-Hood]

"Masks on" Red said looking at his gang of men. They had been hired by one of the king pins of Courscant. When someone wanted a dirty job done, The Red Hood gang  is who you called. For a price of course. 

Red leaned up against a wall, letting his men take control of the area. Everything was going off with out a hitch. 

Red shook his head at the dumb joke the bank teller had just told. Red couldn't help but smirk at how his men reactions to the joke. Pearson quickly hushed them up. Pearson was good like that, regaining control. 

Pearson yelled at the teller before stomping over to where Red leaned on the wall.

"What now?" Red said in a bored tone. 

"The transfer is only five percent complete boss, it'll be a long time before its fully done" Pearson said. Pearson looked panicked as he looked at his leader for guidance. 

" Kill the hostages, no witnesses. We are done" Red said, he began to inspect a bit of dirt that he hadn't noticed on his gloved hand before. Pearson nodded. He motioned to one of his men to execute the order. The gun blast echoed throughout the hall as the first victim died.

Suddenly the doors at the entrance burst open.  Looks like the cops have shown up Red thought bitterly.  Pearson shouldn't have walked away from his post. That skull kid must of hit the alarm. 

"Damnit Pearson! You were supposed to be watching the window!" Red Hood yelled 

"I'm sorry boss I-" he didn't get the chance to finish his excuse. Red drew his pistol, shooting Pearson in the head. Blood splattered on the now closed shuttered  window of the strange skull kids booth. 

Red pointed at another one of his men. 

"Wilson, you're my second in command now."

"Y-yes sir" he stammered,frightened at what he just witnessed.

"Take care of the troopers" Red said,starting to walk towards the window. He had almost made it when he heard a voice. 

" Drop your weapons and put your hands on your head, no one else needs to get hurt."

Red turned to make a snarky comment only to find that no one was there.  Bewildered he looked left and right.

"Down here Einstein" said the voice once again. Looking down Red saw a rabbit holding a gun pointed at him. Red bellowed with laughter. 

"Really? This is what the Empire sends to stop me? A talking hairball?" Red laughed louder. His men laughed nervously.

"Quiet! Kill the storm troopers, I'm gonna pet the pretty little fuzz ball" Red said. Running behind cover the red hood gang began to fire. The two troopers jumped behind a pillar near the entrance to the bank returning fire.

"Should of brought more men fuzz ball." Red said aiming a kick at the Rabbit. To his surprise he met nothing but air. The rabbit quickly jumped out of the way.

"You asked for it!" She yelled as she fired on Red. He dove behind a table, flipping it on its side as he did so. A bullet had grazed his arm, a  drop of blood falling to the ivory floor. Red took off a couple of his flash bangs. He threw one towards the storm troopers and the other at the rabbit. 

Unfortunately one of his men decided to get ballsy and run from his cover hoping to push back the troopers. He heard the man cry out in surprise as the first detonated. 

"Idiot..." Red muttered. A few seconds later the second one detonated.