[Bye] Mickey, Kanda, and Dwayne Do Hollywood!

[Karl Jak]

Mickey Mouse held out the piece of paper to the man at the door. “Heya, Fella, I think this is where we’re supposed to be?”

The doorman glanced at the sheet before slowly nodding his head. “Yea, just inside,” he declared as he leaned forward on his stool and pushed the door ajar. “They’re waiting for you, I think.”

With Yu Kanda trailing him by a few paces, Mickey Mouse entered what was essentially a chubby hallway. As he progressed, he glanced in and noticed that all the doors led into oversized closets packed with costumes, accessories, and wigs. “Neato,” the mouse muttered as the pair of primes reached the door at the end of the hallway.

On the other side of the door was a massive stage, complete with lights and seats and a crew of people skittering around to move parts of the set. The production crew seemed to be bickering about lights, and the director seemed indifferent to the whole thing. At the sound of the door, he glanced over and nodded his head. “All right, people, we’re going to start shortly,” that declaration caused the ant-like collection of stage crew to scurry faster.

Before Mickey and Yu Kanda had a chance to ask questions of the whole situation, a massive, bald-headed man strode over to them. He thrust a hand the size of the mouse’s face toward him and flashed the fourth most charismatic grin in the Omniverse. “Hey there, ‘Fella’,” he boomed as he Mickey slowly extended his hand. “I’m the Rock, and it’s great to be working with you.” He added before unintentionally smashing Mickey’s fingers in the process of shaking hands. “Who’s the jabroni?”

Yu Kanda furrowed his brow, unsure what the words or the tone meant. “I am Kanda, Exorcist and Guard Captain of Nippur.” He extended his hand and received his own digit-crushing shake from the actor-slash-wrestler.

“Yu ready to eat some pie?” The large man inquired with a grin.

The exorcist tilted his head. “Are… is that why we’re here?” He asked as he glanced around. “I’m usually a pretty bare bones person… Meat, mostly.”

The Rock’s eyes light up as he stifled a laugh. “Meat, you say?”

“Yes?” Kanda replied tentatively as he looked down at the mouse. Why was Mickey trying not to laugh?

Dwayne walked over and put an arm around Kanda’s shoulder. “I got something you’ll like, trust me.” He said as he led the pair over to the stage.

“What’s that?”

“Strudel. Specifically, the Peoples' Strudel. You seem like the type who loves the Peoples' strudel.”

Yu furrowed his brow. “I guess I’ll try anything once.” He muttered as Dwayne stifled another snicker.

Working with Dwayne “the Rock” Johnson, Mickey Mouse and Yu Kanda are to help Syntech create a series of advertisements and/or mini-sodes for not only this year’s Dante’s Abyss but also previous years (I know the two of you have been to 3 of the 4 events and can ask around about 2k16). These can be whatever you’d like them to be. The production people have whatever you may need, and the rooms you passed are filled with costumes and accessories for anyone that’s ever been in any Syntech event.

You have no post limit and no post order.

[Mickey Mouse]

The pair of primes plopped down in two cloth director’s chairs, embroidered in big golden letters with their names, as they perused Mickey’s trusty survival guide to discover the true nature of the People’s Strudel.

Finally finding an in-depth interview with their celebrity guide hidden amongst the pages of Play, Boy, Kanda’s face contorted in ways the pint-sized king had never even imagined possible. “That… is disgusting,” he shook his head, his face going slightly green just from the thought.

“Whatcha talking ‘bout, pal?” Mickey glanced up at him, quizzically, “It just seems like he’s offering this nice journalist lady some tasty pastries!”

Kanda facepalmed.

“Oh, it’s tasty, alright!” Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson boomed, swooping in on Mickey and Kanda. “Lemme see that magazine, little bro,” he asked, reaching one of his huge hands toward Mickey, who promptly plopped the survival guide onto his palm. “Playboy, eh? You got good taste, little mouse.”

“Oh, actually, I didn’t pick it out,” Mick clarified, “it was given to me by a disembodied wizard who summoned us all to an island to defeat a warlock and retrieve his stolen artefacts!”

Dwayne blinked. “The Rock would just like to say this Omniverse gets weirder and weirder every day.”

And with that, the former wrestler beckoned Mickey and Kanda to the costume closet. Inside, garments of primes present and past lined the racks, and memories of friends and enemies from the sixth Dante’s Abyss flooded into Mickey’s mind. He gave a big old hug to a leg of replica Samus Aran armor, and wrapped himself in the folds of a blue skirt that must’ve been meant to resemble Erza Scarlet’s.

“Looks like your mouse friend is enjoying all the options, eh?” the Rock said.

“I’m beginning to think my partner might enjoy… everything,” Kanda mused, worriedly. The mouse had seemed to take the competition seriously enough during their first fight. Ever since they’d been reunited in the preshow facility, though, Kanda had noticed a slight shift in his partner’s dynamic: one more wide-eyed and slightly reckless. Whereas at first Mickey had seemed altogether despondent about the competition in general, he now walked around having… fun? Was that the right word? The serious-minded swordsman didn’t really know the meaning of it.

“I wasn’t a huge fan of this idea when your emissary presented it to us,” Kanda shrugged.

“Yeah, well, the big guy wanted to give you guys a reward for being so damn entertaining!” Dwayne chuckled, clapping a hand against Kanda’s back. The exorcist stumbled slightly—this man’s brute strength was ridiculous. “And besides, this is way better than what some of the other primes are having to do! Can you believe they convinced some jabronis to wear Pepsi costumes into their fight? I mean, COME ON!” The Rock burst into a fit of laughter, doubling over and slapping his knee.

Kanda, for one, didn’t get the joke. What was a ‘Pepsi,’ some kind of strange creature or demon? And what did a Pepsi costume even look like?

“Oh my gosh!” the squeakerific sounds of Mickey Mouse echoed from the back of the room. Seconds later, he burst through a pair of Deadpool costumes—each stuck with a ‘4th place’ ribbon—carrying a blue and silver spandex jumpsuit, the word ‘Pepsi’ emblazoned on the front. “It’s Pepsimaaaaaan!”

Ah. So that’s what it looked like.

* * *

“I just don’t get why I have to play you,” Yu Kanda protested, adjusting the oversized mouse ears on his head. Below him, Mickey grumbled, dressed in the Pepsiman suit with some really life-like blood and guts emerging from the abdomen.

“Because I want to play Pepsiman!” the mouse groaned.

Behind them, the set had morphed—in minutes—into a scene from the sixth Dante’s Abyss. Mickey and Kanda were in a cave not unlike the one MESH dragged Pepsiman into after the Medkit Easter Egg. Over to the side, Dwayne adjusted himself, uncomfortable in the too-tight Samus Aran armor.

“Rolling… action!”

Cameras focused in, and Mickey assumed a dramatic near-death pose, moaning and groaning and clutching his guts in a way no person would ever actually be able to. Kanda glanced over at the teleprompter for his lines.

“Do you think he’ll make it?” the guard captain read in a dry monotone.

“Cut, cut, cut!” Mickey said, sitting up.

“Don’t cut, keep rolling,” the director droned, “what is it, Mr. Mouse?”

“Well, it’s just,” the pint-sized prime squeaked, “I don’t wanna give another actor notes or anything… but I mean, like, I was there, I know what happened, y’know? And what happened was I was a lot sadder, like maybe even crying? Do you think you could give us some tears, Kanda?”

Yu Kanda grimaced. “Tears? You want me to cry? While wearing these ridiculous ears?”

“I mean if you don’t think you’re capable of doing it…” Mickey trailed off, shooting a sassy look at the Rock. Kanda huffed.

The director watched the passive-aggressive scene play out for several moments before deciding to cut it off. “Alright, still rolling. Take 2. And… action.”

Kanda scrunched his face, managing to procure a single drop of water onto his cheek, though it might have been sweat, not tears. “Do you think he’ll make it?” The exorcist looked over to Rock Samus, who waddled over to the Pepsimouse, medkit in hand. He sprinkled its contents on the afflicted area and just like that, the special effects blood and guts dissolved on cue.

Mickey sat up slowly, feeling his stomach and then smiling a big, cheesy smile. “The refreshing taste of Pepsi lives on!” he cheered. Then, he broke from the scene and stared directly into the camera. “Dante’s Abyss—it’s not just about murder-killing, it’s also about making friends!”

He grinned and flashed a thumbs up at the camera. Tentatively, the Rock and Kanda did as well. The director nodded, wondering if this was, exactly, what they were supposed to do, and then shouted cut.

Within seconds, two assistants flanked Dwayne, one holding a tiny fan and the other offering him a bottle of refreshing Pepsi, which he quickly took and drank. Mickey’s eyes narrowed. Where were their assistants? They were the ones who’d just proven their worth and spiked the ratings for Karl Jak. They were the stars of these commercial shoots. What was the deal?

“Um, excuse me,” he called out to no one in particular, “do Kanda and I not get interns to bring us fans and Pepsi?”

The director, his eyes not leaving the footage he reviewed, scoffed. “Not in the budget, Mr. Mouse.”

Mickey’s off-white cheeks flared red.

Kanda, noticing his partner’s swift change in demeanor, tried to run interference. “That’s totally fine, he was just wondering—”

“It is not totally fine,” Mickey roared, “I have been on more film sets than anyone here, probably! Before Minnie and I became queen and king, we made extra cash making remakes of old movies starring us, like A Christmas Carol and The Prince and the Pauper! And we always had assistants!”

The director rolled his eyes and ignore the complaining mouse, which, of course, only infuriated him more.

“I can’t work like this!”

The mouse’s voice echoed throughout the soundstage and within seconds, he’d zip-a-dee-doo-dah’d out of the room. All eyes in the room trained on Mickey as he stormed out. Okay, so it turned out everyone’s favorite neighborhood mouse did have a moral weakness: his movie star complex.

“I’ll… go find him,” Kanda assured everyone reluctantly before hurrying out of the room after his partner.

[Yu Kanda]

With a displeasing grunt, the exorcist roamed the backstage halls of the syntech facility. Searching for his diva of a partner. After his little blowout, Mickey did not leave the best impression. Not with Kanda nor the directors. Up ahead light escaped underneath a wooden door. Without knocking the exorcist opened the door, finding a moping mouse staring into a preposterous large mirror decorated with light bulbs around the colored edges. The reflection had the two primes staring directly at each other, the deep burrowed frown upon Mickey’s face said it all.

“What do you want?” The mouse snorted, “ Leave me alone Kanda, I am done with these amateurs. They don’t even know how to treat a real movie star.” A deep sigh followed as the depressed mouse rested his head on top of his hands.

Kanda’s one and only nerve was easily triggered, something the mouse found out the hard way. The captain grabbed the movie star at the collar of the Pepsi uniform, lifting Mickey up from the chair, against the wall. “Listen here you spoiled little Brat” Yu fired out like the flames of hell. “Do I need to remind you where the hell you are?! I am not happy with this circus either. But I have to suck it up, and by God so will you. I'll be damned if we get disqualified due to you being a child, unwilling to play your part. Be a man for once.”

Mickey’s eyes widened as never seen by Kanda before. Veins were visibly bulging on the exorcist’s temples. “But I’m not a man,... I’m a mou-”

“I know you’re a damn mouse!” Yu interrupted while shaking the Disney hero like a Hawaiian cocktail mixer. “I need you to man up. Be the warrior that is going to win this competition with me.” The rage infused warrior dropped Mickey back to the ground. Silence took over the room, both primes staring at each other. The wake-up call did seem to have some degree of effect, even if it was only shock.

Direct eye contact was broken, the mouse’s eyes started to linger. It wasn’t too long before his attention was caught by the headpiece still on Kanda’s head. Cheeks started to fill as he did his very best not let the air escape in an outburst of laughter The sight of the pissed off swordsman still wearing the oversized Disney ears made it near impossible to keep a straight face. Yu,-still not realizing his ensemble, never stopped his intense glare. The visible eye twitch pushed the mouse over the edge, sending him in a straight up laughing fit.

“Aaaaaah HAHAHAHA”

Hell’s fury boomed through the room, “The fuck is your problem?!”

The only response the ‘devil-faced’ man received was an index finger pointing at the mirror, combined with laughing tears rolling down Mickey’s cheek. His reflection in the polished metal revealed the captain’s ridiculous ensemble. Looking like the inferno mouse from hell, made even Kanda snort. Before risking breaking character he turned his back to his partner. “Let’s go and finish this thing before that big guy sends us home.”

Mickey wiped the tears from his eyes, still recovering from his little outburst. “W-wait up!” The short legs challenged him to keep up with the short-fused demon hunter.

The two didn't talk for a good while. It was the keyblade wielder who broke it first, “I still believe the way they treat their ‘stars’ around here is criminal.” A friendly shove from the reticent man sends Mickey stumbling through the door.

“Ah, there you guys are!” The Rock welcomed them back with his energetic voice, “Ready for round two? We still have plenty of shots left.”

The thought alone of having to endure more of this mental torture made Kanda wish for a good old-fashioned demon brawl. Alas, he was stuck here. entertaining the masses of the omniverse by playing dress-up.

After Mickey accepted the poor production quality, their Pepsi man scene was shot in all but three takes. Dwayne’s natural talent to play the blonde femme fatale in combination with Mickey’s charisma as Pepsi-man exploded off the screen. Kanda’s drama potential was lacking, to say the least— stuttering out one line after the other without a hint of flair. In the end, it was good enough for the trio to move on.

“Good news guys! The next bit is going to be of musical origin. They want you to illustrate and sing some lines through a few of last years highlights.” The Rock’s announcement had different effects on both the primes. The corner’s of Mickey's mouth reached up to his ears while Kanda’s eyes narrowed at the walking sack of muscles.

Dwayne did not get a chance to elaborate, Yu stepped up and interrupted him,“You’re kidding right? You’re telling me we have to actually sing in this shit? What string will they pull next...shall I start dancing like a monkey as well?” Sarcasm dripped off of every word the exorcist spat The Rock’s way. He stepped towards the movie-star, chest forward and hand on sword. Kanda’s body language may have worked on others, however, this was Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson. The bald-headed icon took two steps before towering over the young prime.

“Don’t worry so much Kanda.” A ‘pat' on the shoulder almost knocked the swordsman on his ass. “ First we will have Mickey’s solo while the two of us have a little chat. After that, it’s your time to shine.”

“I get a solo?!”

“You sure do buddy.” Dwayne combined the old’ finger gun with his charismatic wink. “Just head over to the stage, your outfit is ready.” Before even finishing the sentence Mickey was already well on his way.

Kanda followed Dwayne to a seating area located near the stage. The wrestling champ sat down on one of the cushion couches, tapping the spot next to him, like a predator luring his victim, but in a comfortable way. Yu sat down. His body sank deep in the couch cushions. While the duo watched Mickey struggle to get the costume on Dwayne started talking in a more serious tone of voice, “Alright, real-talk bro. What's with the anger issues?”

Kanda avoided the eye contact the mountain of a man was seeking, “I don't know how that's any of your business? I've always dealt with issues how I see fit.” An ice-cold tone expressed.

The Rock sighed and leaned forward, “Look, pal, I get it. We all have a darkness inside of us. But this isn't the way. Continue on this path and you will only alienate yourself from people, becoming yourself what you are fighting so hard to destroy.” A soothing, deep voice emphasized the inspirational words. Yu looked over. His silence said more than any amount of words could describe.

“Looking good over there Mick!” Dwayne shouted followed with a broad white-teeth smile and a thumbs up. Mickey waved as he finally put on the latex Majin costume “You see that little mouse over there. He barely reaches my waste, but he fights like a bear when it comes to facing evil. Its because he fights with his heart. He surrounds himself with people he cares about and helps him in his darkest hour. Listen to him Kanda, follow his ways during these matches, and who knows...you just might see the light.” The exorcist remained silent. A lot of information was being processed.

“So- what does all of that have to do with what's going on over here?”

“Everything, Kanda. See it as partner bonding. I tell you what, participate in this and I will tell you how I got this strong.” Dwayne got up and bounced his pecs up and down before moving the show along, “Time to roll people!”

Mickey put down the script and started running on a treadmill while the background was flashing by. The cheerful mouse started singing from the top of his longues, “~Beeeeeefooooore I was a champion, I ran and ran and ran. ~Cardio is my friend as I rush through the lands because I can. ~I hunt the special drops and collect the items whole. ~Become stronger stronger stronger, find new friends along, I was on a roll. When all of this is over, I’ll be a champion strong.~I am the fuuuuuuutureeeeee warriooooor!!” Mickey roared as he portrayed last years abyss champion in Syntechs musical. It was going to be a long night.

***
Mickey snorted when Kanda came out of the dressing room wearing a bat costume. “Who are you supposed to be?!”

“Hell if I know.” The swordsman grunted, “Some chump who got his ass kicked probably.”

Not far behind him, Mr.Johnson exited his changing room. Blond wig and bandana covered his previous bald head. Long earlobe prosthetics attached to his ears, a long wide mc-hammer looking pants and a golden bo staff in hand. “I am the God of thunder and lightning! Kneel before me, mortals!”

The mouse lost it and continued laughing his ass off, “I don’t know who that is supposed to represent but you look amazing!” The Rock grinned in response.

“Oh hell no, I am doing what now?!” Kanda dropped the script on the stone floor before eyeing his scene partner. His face was that of a dentist-patient waiting to get his teeth pulled out.

“AAAAAAND ACTION!”

Kanda struggled his way through waist-high swamp water, while Dwayne sat high and dry...on Yu’s back. The music que’d his singing, “~Oooooh I am the god of thunder, everyone does my biddin’. ~I am simply the gift that keeps on givin’. ~My loyal chump carries me around. ~Untill champion I am crooooowned.”

Kanda continued to struggle, pushing forward through the mudwater with the massive man as a passenger. The displeasing expression was well covered by the black mask. Though his voice said it all when his lines finally came up, “ ~I am the chump that was used for his pleasure. ~Carrying his Godness to the damned treasure.”

The things Yu did to find out Dwayne’s secrets should never be mentioned, ever again.

[Mickey Mouse]

Time for a well-deserved break.

With two TV spots under their belt, Mickey Mouse and Yu Kanda’s new, much sought-after assistants led them out the back door of the soundstage to their trailer. Yes, trailer, singular -- the mouse halfway considered speaking up about how he and Kanda should have separate dressing rooms, but he was beginning to really enjoy the company of the swordsman, in spite of his perpetually cloudy mood. He’d always managed to have a fun time with Eeyore, and Kanda wasn’t nearly as much of a buzzkill as that, so he’d manage.  

Besides, Kanda’s pep talk had put the mouse in a much more forgiving mood. After all, he really should be pitying these poor saps -- they all had to work under the perfectly manicured thumb of Karl Jak, and from Mickey’s limited experience with the dude he wasn’t exactly an ideal boss.

Although, the king would admit: his taste in amenities was choice.

“At last, a little peace and quiet,” the mouse squawked, plopping down on the extremely comfortable couch. Mickey’s eight fingers dug into the smooth violet velvet material as he sunk in with a breathy ‘aaaahhh,’ closing his eyes, kicking off his yellow shoes and throwing his feet up on one of the arms of the sofa. His partner, meanwhile, sat on the opposite side of the trailer, sliding his sword across a whetstone, sharpening it for the next battle.

“If I never have to wear one of those ridiculous costumes ever again it’ll be too soon,” Kanda scowled. Mickey giggled at Yu Kanda’s crotchety attitude; sometimes, the exorcist reminded him of an old man, out on his porch, yelling at kids to get off his lawn. “What’s so funny?”

“Psh, you, Fella!” the mouse laughed, “You’re so serious.”

“This competition is serious,” Yu Kanda bit back. “Some of us have honor and dignity on the line. I thought, based on your performance last round, that you understood that, but you’ve been nothing but foolish ever since.” The guard captain let out a frustrated grunt, spinning away from the mouse and continuing to sharpen his sword.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Mickey sat up, sliding towards his partner, “I do get it, pal! I just don’t get why we can’t have fun at the same time!”

Yu Kanda shot Mickey a puzzled glance, and to be honest, the keyblade master himself almost didn’t recognize that outlook, even as it spilled forth from his little mouse mouth. When this competition had started, he still stood firmly in the camp that this type of insane violence was unnecessary. And though he couldn’t bring himself to completely agree with the way Karl Jak executed his philosophy -- there had to be a method that involved less senseless killing -- the mouse certainly found his mind opening up, willing to accept that maybe, just maybe, there was some purpose to these proceedings.

And veiled behind that purpose, a little bit of good, old-fashioned fun!

Just then, the door to the trailer burst open and Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson busted in, arms spread wide. “What’s up, little bros?” he greeted, reaching over and squeezing Kanda by the shoulder. The normally stoic swordsman cringed in pain as Dwayne crossed the room and relaxed into one of the many other nice chairs littering their trailer.

“You really don’t understand your own strength,” Kanda muttered under his breath, hopefully low enough for Dwayne to not hear. However, he underestimated the former wrestler’s incredible hearing abilities.

“It’s all about the diet, bro,” the Rock threw a finger gun in Kanda’s direction. Instinctively, the swordsman lifted his blade from the whetstone into a defensive position to block whatever energy blast would inevitably shoot from Dwayne’s finger, but none came, and the defensive move just bent over in a fit of laughter. “Oh, that’s great, you thought I was gonna shoot one of those little ki blasts or something at you,” he giggled madly, “Psh, no, I’m not Cell, man! He’s busy fighting the loser Pepsi girls.”

The mouse’s eyes instinctively shot toward the door. He hadn’t been around here too long, but he’d been around long enough to know that you didn’t talk smack about PepsiCo in the middle of Dante’s Abyss. Dwayne, too, seemed well aware of his benefactors’ soda proclivities, and for a moment, everything in the trailer went still. Luckily, it didn’t seem like any of the hidden cameras had caught the little slip up, and so the trio eased back into their conversation.

“Anyway, yeah, diet,” the Rock nodded, trying his best to move on as if he’d said nothing at all about their corporate overlords, “The Rock eats seven meals a day, and through those meals, he consumes thirty-six ounces of cod, including a ten-ounce slab of it ever morning; six cups of white rice, which, bro, is more than 1,200 calories of that shit; four cups of vegetables and two salads, and a dozen eggs.”

Yu Kanda set down his sword in awe. “And you’re still living? You aren’t a spirit?” The mouse king could almost see the swordsman’s demon hunter goggles sliding on.

After what he’d determined was a sizable lull in the conversation, Mickey leapt across the room, wrapping their celebrity guide in the biggest hug his tiny wingspan could handle. Dwayne squeezed back. “Hey, Dwayne,” the mouse smiled, “how’re we doing?”

“Oh, you’re doing great, Mick,” the big guy grinned. “In fact, the big guy’s coming to give both of you just a little word of thanks and gratitude.”

Yu Kanda’s eyes flicked up to the cuddle-puddle of primes. If Mickey’s face could’ve gone pale, it would’ve been as colorless as the Nexus.

“...b-big guy?” the mouse king stammered.

Knock, knock, knock.

Three quick raps and then the door cracked open. The man’s poofy hair became visible before anything else as he peeked in, freshly plucked eyebrows creeping around the door like tiny, hairy little worms. “Knock, knock!” the silky smooth voice of Karl Jak reached Mickey’s oversized ears and made the hairs on them stand on end.

Dressed to the nines in his traditional violet suit and carrying a small, cardboard box labeled ‘property of Syntech Corporation’ on the side, the executive producer of Dante’s Abyss slithered into the dressing room. Mickey’s eyes narrowed as he clutched harder onto a progressively more confused Dwayne. It had been three years since he’d been in such close physical proximity to the man who’d inadvertently caused him more psychological turmoil than any therapist would even consider shaking a stick at, and the fact that their inevitable reunion came as a surprise didn’t help ease the matter.

Karl slunk over toward the couch that matched his wardrobe too perfectly and sunk into it, crossing one leg delicately over the other and melding into the velvety fabric. “Afternoon, boys,” he oozed, a sweet smirk slinking onto his face.

“Afternoon, Karl!” Dwayne smiled big, placing a comforting hand on Mickey’s shoulder. The former wrestler couldn’t figure out why the little mouse in his lap was on edge, but he felt compelled to soothe whatever mental pains had entered his mind while also doing some lip service to his boss.

Karl sat like a queen on the lengthy sofa, taking a few beats to just observe the two goody-two-shoes who had, somehow -- against all odds -- managed to be the star competitors of his tournament so far. Who would’ve thought that a self-righteous mouse and a demon hunter would’ve proven so essential to snagging those critical early-season ratings? He certainly hadn’t expected it when he’d heard of the mouse’s surprise appearance in the midst of the Vasty Deep.

Karl wasn’t stupid. Ever since Samus Aran had tried -- and failed, he might add -- to banish him, he’d clocked that every member of the ‘hero’ squad MESH probably absolutely hated his guts. And to be honest, he couldn’t really blame them. The four lawful good primes were probably too soft for the classic style Dante’s Abyss. It much better served cutthroat competitors, who were willing to murder and backstab and destroy whoever got in their path to win the championship belt; or at least people whose moral compasses were more… hazy. That’s why people like Sasuke Uchiha and Deadpool had always proven to be stars here, in his world. It’s why the unlikely duo of Sarah Kerrigan and the no-named bandit, one with little regard in general for other human life and the other too in touch with how everlasting it was here in the Omniverse, were proving so successful now.

He would admit, though, that Mickey Mouse might be working to prove him wrong. He’d underestimated the ratings power of a good hero-versus-villain grudge match, and the mouse’s fight with the pretty boy king had certainly delivered in the ratings. Beyond that, though, the little prime had spunk; whatever his feelings about the competition were, he’d come back to it readily, not half-assed half-baked.

“Good show last round, boys,” Karl smirked, his eyes flickering back and forth between the pint-sized prime and his all-too-serious partner. “Hope you’re enjoying your little break -- Gilgamesh and the kid certainly aren’t, thanks to you.”

Karl reached out and wiggled his fingers, and the remote control flew into his hand; his acrylic nails pressed down on the power button and the television clicked on, showing footage of the gilded king and the former robot redhead flailing across an ice mountain in huge, blue parkas. Mickey tried not to take his eyes off Karl’s face, but the red spandex costume he recognized all too well as Deadpool’s caught his attention and he instinctively tensed up.

“Oh, yes, I thought you might remember him, Mr. Mouse,” Karl giggled. “As you can see, he’s not doing as well for business as you and Mr. Cute Guard Captain over here.” Yu Kanda’s brow furrowed at the producer’s light flirtation.

“Whatcha need, bud?” Mickey squeaked with a scowl, getting straight to the point.

Karl, for his part, simply laughed. “Need? Ha,” he smiled, shaking his head, “I don’t need anything from you, Mickey Mouse, except to keep doing what you’re doing. Keep being exciting, and the ratings keep going up!”

The slender man’s smooth skin glinted even in the shoddy fluorescent lights that had been hung in their trailer. It almost made Mickey jump out of his skin that even here, this guy seemed so deceptively perfect. “By the way, so glad to have you back, Mickey,” Karl continued, undeterred by the awkward silence that draped the room in his presence, “I was worried for a second. About our friendship, y’know, that we’d come to some sort of misunderstanding. Imagine my relief when I found out you’d just been run into hiding by some Empire douchebags.” He let out a hearty chortle. “You know I’ve got offices on Coruscant? I can slide some cash to some of those tight-ass officers and see if I can get that bounty removed?”

“I can take care of myself,” Mickey spat.

A normal person might’ve let the mouse’s tone get them riled up, but it simply made Karl Jak laugh harder. “Feisty mouse,” he replied, “Well, you certainly have made that much clear, absolutely. You don’t need my help.”

“No,” Yu Kanda interjected, stern as ever, “We don’t.”

Karl glanced over at the swordsman. “Kanda, the stoic swordsman, forced not only to fight against his king, but alongside the man’s worst enemy,” the producer observed, “You know, that’s quite the story too. Don’t think the mouse’s rivalry with Blondie took all the spotlight. People are talking about you, too.”

He pursed his lips. “And I know you don’t need my help -- believe me,” Karl continued, placing his hands up in a slightly surrendering gesture, “but I did bring something for you boys. A little token of my appreciation, and…” he paused, glancing over at Mickey Mouse.

“…perhaps a small olive branch.”

Karl tapped the top of the cardboard box. “I’ll leave you to it,” he said, a small smirk slithering onto his face. “Thanks for taking care of my stars, Dwayne. Sad to see you not in the competition this year.”

Dwayne blinked, his neutral expression dipping into a frown. “The Rock is sad, too, Karl.”

“Hm,” Karl mused before slipping out of the door. It shut with a click behind him, and almost instantly, tears welled up in Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson’s eyes.

“Dwayne?” Yu Kanda spoke up, noticing the wrestler’s change in demeanor.

“Mr. Rock?” Mickey echoed, but their celebrity guide lifted the mouse up, sat him on the chair, and went to hurry out of the trailer before the water works started in full force. Kanda slid between him and the door, stopping his path. The Rock pouted as he began to cry waterfalls, and as Mickey’s four fingers wrapped around one of his gigantic ones. He looked down at the tiny prime. “What’s wrong, Fella?”

“It’s just,” Dwayne wept, rubbing his eyes with his gargantuan fist, “that was just a low thing of him to say! He knows I would be in the competition if I could. He knows.”

“Then why didn’t you join?” the exorcist droned. “You seem perfectly capable of fighting. In fact, you look to be in better shape than most of the other competitors in the tournament.”

“I…” he paused, squeezing Mickey’s hand so much that the little mouse winced, “I just look better with a partner, y’know. I’m a big brute, I need some brains to back me up. And the first year -- Mick was in that one -- I had this great guy, we bonded so much, it just, like, worked, right… we had a connection… me and Straz…”

A lightbulb went off in Mickey’s brain. He remembered that name… Straz…

“Strazio Rockwell!” the mouse piped up. “I fought him in the finals!”

“Yeah!” the Rock blubbered, “he’s such a badass. Strazio Rockwell… and me… the Rock and Rock Connection… it was great… and Karl hasn’t let me back into the competition since then. Says I’m more marketable being a spokesperson, being in all the commercials, talking about how great it is…”

Mickey watched as Dwayne collapsed into a puddle of sad, falling to his knees and beginning to shake from all the weeping. He frowned. Why did people place this competition in such high regard? Sure, at the end of the day, maybe he’d been wrong about it being the worst thing ever to hit the Omniverse, but it still didn’t strike him as something to get so worked up about, right? It was just a bunch of fighting and backstabbing and sometimes climbing in trees!

Clearly, though, it meant something to Dwayne, and Mickey was too empathetic to not sympathize with that. He supposed that for someone whose life didn’t carry such an idealistic purpose like his -- finding some way to wipe the true evils of the Omniverse away, forever, although that seemed less and less possible with the perpetuity of life here -- that maybe a competition like this really did hold some sort of weight. Maybe that’s what Kanda had been talking about… this tournament was a way to quantify honor and dignity, or at least win a material object to signify it, like a championship belt, or an artefact, or something. And although that wasn’t important to the little mouse, maybe other people really needed it.

How could he blame them for that?

“I mean -- don’t get the Rock wrong,” Dwayne sobbed, “I’m so grateful for everything Karl’s doing for me, but sometimes the Rock wants to crush some jabronis, y’know?”

“Absolutely,” Mickey nodded, “Y’know, I’m just now really getting into this whole ‘crushing jabronis’ thing, pal, but I really do get it.”

Mickey wrapped Dwayne in the tightest, most comforting hug he could muster, and the Rock hugged him back as best he could from several stories up. Yu Kanda, meanwhile, mused on the former pro wrestler’s emotional conundrum. The swordsman’s gaze fell on the cardboard box that Karl Jak had brought them, and instinctively, he peeked inside to see what surprises their mysterious benefactor had in store for them. What he found inside… was more than he ever could’ve imagined.

“Dwayne,” he smirked, “…what if there was a way we could help you get your old glory back?”

[Yu Kanda]

Both Mickey and Dwayne came over and glanced inside the box. The mouse’s eyes widened, the Rock grinned and Kanda started to feel very uncomfortable. A second, closer look provided more detail as to what the mysterious container sheltered. “Are those,..?”

“Damn right they are, boys!” Dwayne exclaimed loudly, “You know what this means, right?!” With every word, The Rock seemed to get more and more excited. His enthusiasm was infectious to the highest possible level. It even got the mouse hopping where he stood, “What does it meeeaaaaan?!”

“It means I have to take you boys out back for some good ol’ training!” The ex-wrestler said with great pride, pulling the primes close with his muscular arms around their necks, “today is going to be a good day. I will show you how to win Dante’s Abyss.”

Now this, got Kanda’s attention, “You possess this knowledge? To win this contest?” Dwayne’s statement tickled the exorcist’s interest, while his biceps were crushing his upper-spine.

“Damn right I do, son. All you have to do is do exactly as I say, no questions. Is that understood?” From emotional wreck to army drill sergeant, The Rock switched personas within mere minutes. His watery eyes turned to spectacles of burning conviction. The box’s treasure sparked a flame of passion. The exorcist recognized these emotions of eagerness for battle. Even Yu got fired up, he felt the innocence swirling deep within the pits of his stomach. It excited him without limit. Finally, this bullshit may have been worth it after all.

“We don’t have much time guys, let's go.” The mountain of muscles slammed open the door, “Move it, boys. And bring the box.”

The keyblade wielder picked up the container before heading out. The broad-shouldered man led the way towards one of the other, abandoned-looking production halls. Kanda was close behind. Mickey’s short legs were barely able to keep up with the high pace both taller men had. It was during this walk The Rock starts to share his words of wisdom, “DA has two kinds of primes, warriors, and victims. You better prove me right about you guys being warriors.” His speech started. Each word being engraved into the swordsman's subconscious. Kanda’s sole focus was making sure none of this special training was wasted on him.

The ex-wrestler turned a corner before continuing, “A warrior’s strongest weapons are his mind and heart. Without one the other will falter. Never forget that.”

Now he started to talk nonsense, mind, and heart? What kind of bullshit was this?!

Finally, the trio arrived at a large velvet red door. Mickey looked up as the gate was opened, producing a chilling creaking sound as the hinges were in desperate need of some maintenance. Dwayne kept the entry open, a dark shadow made it impossible to see what was within.

“W-what’s in there Dwayne?” The mouse stuttered as he peered towards the eery vibing dark room.
“In there boys, your ticket to victory.” The Rock promised, “If you enter, you agree to push yourself to the limit. You make a promise to me, to listen to my words as if coming from the burning bush himself. Dedicate yourself to the pain and-..” The monologue wasn’t even finished but the blue hair of the exorcist vanished in the mysterious shadows.

A wide grin appeared on Dwayne’s dashing face. With an irresistible smolder in his eyes he looked at Mickey, “What about you?”

The hero gulped and puffed his chest, “Let’s do this!”

The red velvet door closed, whatever happened behind these doors, was a secret between men.

***

The trio sat down at an excessively food stocked table. “Eat up boys, you earned it. You will need your strength for the upcoming match. You both know what to do. The Rock believes in you, The Rock trained you, The Rock made you champions. Now go eat up and kick some ass!” He didn’t need to say it twice, both primes were scrounging down whatever food they got their grubby hands on. The training seemed to have left the team with a great appetite, neither talking much.

“Mickey,” Dwayne said quietly, “Once you finished up, you are free to go to the spectator zone. I need a moment alone with Kanda.”

An enormous piece of meat disappeared inside the black hole the mouse called his mouth. Without swallowing Mickey attempted to talk back, “sure thing Dwayne, thank you so much for everything!”

“No problem buddy, you just keep in mind what I told you!”

Mickey grabbed a few extra pieces for the road before heading out, “See you out there, Pal!” he shouted at Kanda before heading towards the spectator area.

When the two were alone Dwayne scooched over to Kanda. The classic “intense-Rock” look presented,  “You are strong Kanda—your body is at an impressive physical level.” Dwayne’s voice lowered, eyes locked with Yu’s,”However allow me to tell you a story about the people….”