The Butter Trials (Ewan's Trial)
Mar 10, 2019 19:11:14 GMT -5
Post by Delikado on Mar 10, 2019 19:11:14 GMT -5
The scene reopens where the previous Delikado-related bit left off. Still recovering from whatever mental trauma was unleashed on his soul by Sofia's unknown words, Ewan Jakeway is now standing opposite Butter.
Butter: Ewan Jakeway Jr. XXVII, step forward.
Ewan Jakeway: *snapping out of trance* Huh? Oh yeah, that’s me!
Butter: Your biggest fault is you are a complete and total coward who runs from every fight in the history of fighting. Some might deem you a pussyfoot, no-balled feather in the hurricane of life.
Sofia Monzón: *exaggerated cough*
Butter: The family unit can only operate as strong as its weakest link, ergo all links must be strengthened to a unified maximum. Thus, your trial is to fight….ME!
Ewan Jakeway: OH JEEEEEEEEEEEEEZ!
Back in the ring, the two stand on opposite sides. The ref runs between them and announces pompously.
Ref: ROIGHT, THE SECOND TRIAL, THE TRIAL OF FOIGHTING, IS ABOUT TO BEGIN! EVERY FAMILY GOSTA FOIGHT FOR EACH OTHER, AND WHILE USUALLY THAT MEANS IN A “METH-E-FORICAL” SENSE, IN THIS CASE IT MEANS IN THE “FEE-Z-CALL” SENSE! THE TRIAL IS THUS: BUTTER AND EWAN JAKEWAY JR. XXVII WILL FIGHT UNTIL ONLY ONE IS LEFT STANDING! ANYTHING GOES, BAR ANY OUTSIDE INTERFERENCE ONCE THE FOIGHT STARTS! THE COMPETITORS HAVE ONE MINUTE TO “STRAH-TEE-GIZE!”
Ewan is already sweating like he’s been through the fight, but in fact it’s only sweat from fear as he watches Butter stretching his massive head, perhaps suggesting he’ll use it as a club?
Ewan Jakeway: Oh, good grief! Sofia, help me!
Sofia is calmly wiping a speck of dust off her shoulder in the face of Ewan’s panicking.
Sofia Monzón: Oh honey, you can do it. I believe in you. And don’t worry if it goes awry, Mama Monzón still has plenty of band-aids in her dress.
Ewan Jakeway: C’MOOOON, I helped you win your trial! J-Just give me some tips and tricks on how to do the fight!
Sofia Monzón: Cheaters never prosper, Ewan.
Ewan Jakeway: Stop being petty because I asked you to wear nice clothes and save me from this damn match!
Sofia Monzón: Heeeeey, don’t you use language like that with ME, mister. Put some money in the “Swear Jar.”
Sofia proceeds to pull out a jar of change marked “swear jar” and shakes it at Ewan, who stammers and apologizes profusely.
Ewan Jakeway: Oh honey, I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry! I just got nervous and I—
Ref: THIRTY SECONDS!
She shakes the jar again and the sound of coins ringing seems to guilt Ewan further as he pulls money out to place in the jar. He starts to grovel as he holds the jar.
Ewan Jakeway: Listen, Sofia, I’m sorry for everything ever, not just since we got to FGA, but in general if I went against your wishes! If this is about the dress or being pro-Susan, I’ll forswear it all—I just don’t wanna die! The hell do I know about fi—oh jeez I did it again!
He puts more money in the swear jar and starts babbling to the point tears are mixing with his sweat.
Sofia Monzón: You best hold onto that swear jar, Ewan. You’re going to need it.
Ref: Time’s up…GEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEET FOIGHTIIIIIIIIIIN!!!
Butter charges Ewan. It may not be fighter’s sense, but rather the “flight” in “fight or flight” instinct, yet Ewan ducks out of the way and hightails across the meadow arena set up as the fighting pit. The crowd seems rather impressed.
Audience Member 1: I say, that is a quick one there!
Audience Member 2: Agreed! I think I got whiplash, he went by so flipping fast!
Ewan reaches the opposite end of the pit and turns around just to see Butter’s big head looming right up on him. He ‘YIPES’ in primal fear and ducks—right as Butter had jumped up and dived straight-forward like an arrow, thus causing the bigger man to crash head-first into the wall. As Butter crumbles the ground and shakes out the stars, Ewan crawls away, scoops himself up, and hightails it.
Ewan Jakeway: Please, I have a kid! A baby boy, his name’s Hector! Y…You can HAVE him if you just don’t eat me or whatever you’re planning!
Butter roars as he dashes at Ewan, catching him this time and spinning around to do something awful. Ewan screams like a little girl, but Butter suddenly drops him as if on accident. He goes to grab Ewan again, and again the smaller man slips down and away. This act repeats itself a third time and finally Butter vents frustration.
Butter: What is this?! You’re so wet… I can’t get a grip!
Yes, it would appear the sweat of Ewan’s fear is saving him as he takes off sprinting. Butter stops to scoop up some chalky dirt and claps his giant battle-hardened hands, making it so he can now maintain a proper hold, and storms after Ewan. Like before, he catches up when Ewan hits the end of the pit, though this time he grips Ewan and is able to hold him. Ewan screams like the littlest of girls and arcs up his hand still holding the swear jar.
DING!
Dazed, Butter stumbles for a few seconds, but upon recovery, he bodyslams Ewan to the ground and proceeds to sit on top of him. Those Hamburger Helper-sized hands now close and begin to punch Ewan in the face. Over and over he slugs away at Jakeway until he actually starts to get tired from the effort. Panting, he holds up his fist like he is preparing to finish the fight.
Butter: Any last requests?
Ewan Jakeway: *cough* Would….Would you put two on my eyes for the ferryman…?
He opens the swear jar, but in his half-conscious state he spills the jar, causing change to fly everywhere. Some of the money hits Butter and he screams in pain. Falling onto his back amidst the coins, Butter is stricken by some sort of plague that he quickly reveals the source.
Butter: GAAAAAAH! My instantaneous allergy to the feel of coins on my skin! I *coughing* I can feel my body shutting down…*cough* *gasp*…!
He crumbles to the dirt and lies there. Ewan slowly (verrrrrrry slowly) gets up and holds up a fist of victory…right before he too crumbles, only it’s on top of Butter. The ref enters the pit.
Ref: This ain’t a wrestling match, boy-o! That 1-2-3 counting thing ain’t welcome here. No, no, the only way to see who’s still active enough to fight here is the tried and true method of the warriors… Wet Willy Test!
He puts his finger in his mouth, wets it nice and good, then puts it in Butter’s ear. No response. Then he does the same for Ewan, who only slightly flinches.
Ewan Jakeway: *weakly* Ewwwwwwww…..!
Ref: BUTTER IS OUT AND CAN GO NO FURTHER! THE TRIAL OF FOIGHTIN’ IS OVER! EWAN JAKEWAY WINS!!!
The crowd cheers the conclusion to this...well, let’s say it was a fight and move on. Ewan is helped to a comfortable area by Sofia and Nutpea alongside some others who’ve rallied to his side.
Sofia Monzón: Nice job, Ewan. I told you that swear jar would be needed. Granted, you probably just killed a man with it, but hey, at least you can say you finally won a fight.
Butter suddenly appears before the group. Ewan panics immediately.
Ewan Jakeway: Ahhh! Zombie Butter!
Butter: No, no, not a zombie. Just a fellow who has been fairly beaten. Clearly you strategized and scented out my weakness to coins to use against me. That takes the brainpower only a great fighter can muster. Delikado will be an even greater warrior if he has a brilliant tactician like yourself at his side!
Ewan Jakeway: Heheh, I guess he will! I’m a tactician! Hehehowwwwww! Breathing hurts…
Butter: Rest up, for the final trial is at hand. ....Right after this musical intermission.
Butter: Ewan Jakeway Jr. XXVII, step forward.
Ewan Jakeway: *snapping out of trance* Huh? Oh yeah, that’s me!
Butter: Your biggest fault is you are a complete and total coward who runs from every fight in the history of fighting. Some might deem you a pussyfoot, no-balled feather in the hurricane of life.
Sofia Monzón: *exaggerated cough*
Butter: The family unit can only operate as strong as its weakest link, ergo all links must be strengthened to a unified maximum. Thus, your trial is to fight….ME!
Ewan Jakeway: OH JEEEEEEEEEEEEEZ!
--Trial 2: Fighting--
Back in the ring, the two stand on opposite sides. The ref runs between them and announces pompously.
Ref: ROIGHT, THE SECOND TRIAL, THE TRIAL OF FOIGHTING, IS ABOUT TO BEGIN! EVERY FAMILY GOSTA FOIGHT FOR EACH OTHER, AND WHILE USUALLY THAT MEANS IN A “METH-E-FORICAL” SENSE, IN THIS CASE IT MEANS IN THE “FEE-Z-CALL” SENSE! THE TRIAL IS THUS: BUTTER AND EWAN JAKEWAY JR. XXVII WILL FIGHT UNTIL ONLY ONE IS LEFT STANDING! ANYTHING GOES, BAR ANY OUTSIDE INTERFERENCE ONCE THE FOIGHT STARTS! THE COMPETITORS HAVE ONE MINUTE TO “STRAH-TEE-GIZE!”
Ewan is already sweating like he’s been through the fight, but in fact it’s only sweat from fear as he watches Butter stretching his massive head, perhaps suggesting he’ll use it as a club?
Ewan Jakeway: Oh, good grief! Sofia, help me!
Sofia is calmly wiping a speck of dust off her shoulder in the face of Ewan’s panicking.
Sofia Monzón: Oh honey, you can do it. I believe in you. And don’t worry if it goes awry, Mama Monzón still has plenty of band-aids in her dress.
Ewan Jakeway: C’MOOOON, I helped you win your trial! J-Just give me some tips and tricks on how to do the fight!
Sofia Monzón: Cheaters never prosper, Ewan.
Ewan Jakeway: Stop being petty because I asked you to wear nice clothes and save me from this damn match!
Sofia Monzón: Heeeeey, don’t you use language like that with ME, mister. Put some money in the “Swear Jar.”
Sofia proceeds to pull out a jar of change marked “swear jar” and shakes it at Ewan, who stammers and apologizes profusely.
Ewan Jakeway: Oh honey, I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry! I just got nervous and I—
Ref: THIRTY SECONDS!
She shakes the jar again and the sound of coins ringing seems to guilt Ewan further as he pulls money out to place in the jar. He starts to grovel as he holds the jar.
Ewan Jakeway: Listen, Sofia, I’m sorry for everything ever, not just since we got to FGA, but in general if I went against your wishes! If this is about the dress or being pro-Susan, I’ll forswear it all—I just don’t wanna die! The hell do I know about fi—oh jeez I did it again!
He puts more money in the swear jar and starts babbling to the point tears are mixing with his sweat.
Sofia Monzón: You best hold onto that swear jar, Ewan. You’re going to need it.
Ref: Time’s up…GEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEET FOIGHTIIIIIIIIIIN!!!
Butter charges Ewan. It may not be fighter’s sense, but rather the “flight” in “fight or flight” instinct, yet Ewan ducks out of the way and hightails across the meadow arena set up as the fighting pit. The crowd seems rather impressed.
Audience Member 1: I say, that is a quick one there!
Audience Member 2: Agreed! I think I got whiplash, he went by so flipping fast!
Ewan reaches the opposite end of the pit and turns around just to see Butter’s big head looming right up on him. He ‘YIPES’ in primal fear and ducks—right as Butter had jumped up and dived straight-forward like an arrow, thus causing the bigger man to crash head-first into the wall. As Butter crumbles the ground and shakes out the stars, Ewan crawls away, scoops himself up, and hightails it.
Ewan Jakeway: Please, I have a kid! A baby boy, his name’s Hector! Y…You can HAVE him if you just don’t eat me or whatever you’re planning!
Butter roars as he dashes at Ewan, catching him this time and spinning around to do something awful. Ewan screams like a little girl, but Butter suddenly drops him as if on accident. He goes to grab Ewan again, and again the smaller man slips down and away. This act repeats itself a third time and finally Butter vents frustration.
Butter: What is this?! You’re so wet… I can’t get a grip!
Yes, it would appear the sweat of Ewan’s fear is saving him as he takes off sprinting. Butter stops to scoop up some chalky dirt and claps his giant battle-hardened hands, making it so he can now maintain a proper hold, and storms after Ewan. Like before, he catches up when Ewan hits the end of the pit, though this time he grips Ewan and is able to hold him. Ewan screams like the littlest of girls and arcs up his hand still holding the swear jar.
DING!
Dazed, Butter stumbles for a few seconds, but upon recovery, he bodyslams Ewan to the ground and proceeds to sit on top of him. Those Hamburger Helper-sized hands now close and begin to punch Ewan in the face. Over and over he slugs away at Jakeway until he actually starts to get tired from the effort. Panting, he holds up his fist like he is preparing to finish the fight.
Butter: Any last requests?
Ewan Jakeway: *cough* Would….Would you put two on my eyes for the ferryman…?
He opens the swear jar, but in his half-conscious state he spills the jar, causing change to fly everywhere. Some of the money hits Butter and he screams in pain. Falling onto his back amidst the coins, Butter is stricken by some sort of plague that he quickly reveals the source.
Butter: GAAAAAAH! My instantaneous allergy to the feel of coins on my skin! I *coughing* I can feel my body shutting down…*cough* *gasp*…!
He crumbles to the dirt and lies there. Ewan slowly (verrrrrrry slowly) gets up and holds up a fist of victory…right before he too crumbles, only it’s on top of Butter. The ref enters the pit.
Ref: This ain’t a wrestling match, boy-o! That 1-2-3 counting thing ain’t welcome here. No, no, the only way to see who’s still active enough to fight here is the tried and true method of the warriors… Wet Willy Test!
He puts his finger in his mouth, wets it nice and good, then puts it in Butter’s ear. No response. Then he does the same for Ewan, who only slightly flinches.
Ewan Jakeway: *weakly* Ewwwwwwww…..!
Ref: BUTTER IS OUT AND CAN GO NO FURTHER! THE TRIAL OF FOIGHTIN’ IS OVER! EWAN JAKEWAY WINS!!!
The crowd cheers the conclusion to this...well, let’s say it was a fight and move on. Ewan is helped to a comfortable area by Sofia and Nutpea alongside some others who’ve rallied to his side.
Sofia Monzón: Nice job, Ewan. I told you that swear jar would be needed. Granted, you probably just killed a man with it, but hey, at least you can say you finally won a fight.
Butter suddenly appears before the group. Ewan panics immediately.
Ewan Jakeway: Ahhh! Zombie Butter!
Butter: No, no, not a zombie. Just a fellow who has been fairly beaten. Clearly you strategized and scented out my weakness to coins to use against me. That takes the brainpower only a great fighter can muster. Delikado will be an even greater warrior if he has a brilliant tactician like yourself at his side!
Ewan Jakeway: Heheh, I guess he will! I’m a tactician! Hehehowwwwww! Breathing hurts…
Butter: Rest up, for the final trial is at hand. ....Right after this musical intermission.
~TO BE CONTINUED~