Master of the Boot’s Deadliest Warrior

Randall Flagg vs. Voldemort

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or The Dark Tower series. I also do not own Mythbusters of any registered shit you see in here. I hope you enjoy :D

The three deadliest warrior hosts appear before the camera. “Okay,” begins Geoff, “Today we have a battle of magic versus magic.”

The camera changes to show a snake like man in black robes standing before the rubble of Hogwarts Castle.

“That’s right,” chirps Max, “And it’s not a case of light versus dark but evil versus evil. Like Freddy versus Jason but on steroids and with magic wands.”

The camera shifts to show a frightening man walking down a deserted highway at night; his gaze causes birds on a power line to die, glasses to shatter in waitresses hands and men to develop prostate cancer.

“When it comes to dark Wizards,” says Armand, “you can’t really top the sheer evil of Lord Voldemort and Randall Flagg.”

“But who is deadliest?” says Geoff, “Now that is the question.”

Announcer: Voldemort! Shows the dark lord himself standing over the shattered remnants of the Potter household. He just murdered Harry’s mom and he looks like he liked it. The Dark Wizard who so terrorized the wizarding world that even today his name is unspeakable.

The Camera shows a sinister man wearing denim and cowboy boots, he grins as he transforms into a medieval sorcerer and holds up a sinister crystal ball of pink hue that threatens to suck out your soul.

Announcer: Randall Flagg, an ever changing, ever plotting sorcerer on a quest to find the dark tower. Shows Flagg dressed in the black robes of a priest, laying down tarot cards for an equally mysterious gunslinger. The first card that comes up . . . is death. In his thousand year reign of terror, Flagg has killed for pleasure and profit; directly destroying civilizations and worlds.

The screen changes to show footage of Flagg and Voldemort standing side by side with their wands drawn.

Announcer: Using twenty-first century science, we can now decide which of these powerhouses of evil would prevail in a battle.

A dark haired man appears before a cauldron. Announcer: Biomedical expert Geoff Desmoulins will handle the processing of data from this battle. “From a psychological perspective, these guys are a lot like Hernando Cortez and Ivan the Terrible,” Geoff summarises, “I give my edge to Voldemort on this one because for him, murder and torture aren’t a hobby; they’re his career.”

Announcer; Former ER doctor, Armand Dorian, tries to kill us all with his DOX energy drink. Seriously, don’t drink it. Armand holds up a bottle of red energy drink, which supposedly has as much tannins as three hundred glasses of red wine. “Don’t bash my drink!” she shouts. “Anyway,” Armand continues, “I have to go with Flagg on this one. Yes, Voldemort was saner than Flagg but Flagg was an infiltrator. He shows the signs of a classic Wall Street psychopath. He won people’s trust and managed to destroy whole kingdoms because of it. He managed to destroy Gilead and the Association. Whereas Voldemort relied on grand acts of terrorism and propaganda of the deed. That underhanded nature is what is going to win Flagg this battle.”

The camera pans around the studio in a mini helicopter shot to show a group of strange looking people practicing with weapons and magic spells. The camera settles on a greasy haired man with a hooked nose and black robes. Announcer: Former potions teacher and Death Eater Severus Snape was once one of Voldemort’s most trusted spies. To this match he brings not only unique insight into the Dark Lord’s mind but accurate assessment on the Dark Lord’s enemies. “The Dark Lord is one who truly lusts for power; in his quest for it he crushed all those who opposed him while pursuing a fanatical but very practical master race ideology.” Severus explains, “The Dark Lord made use of several unforgiveable curses in his time, particularly the confundus curse. Hence, no one could be certain who served him of their own free will and who was coerced.”

Announcer: Team Flagg has an expert who is equally assured of his side’s villainy. The man in question looks like a rough and ragged cowboy who’s led a life of nothing but pain and hardship and it shows on his weathered face. “I know not the wicked ways of this so called Dark Lord, but I’m more than aware of the foul stench that surround my nemesis Walter O’Dim, or Martin Broadcloak, or Samir Duran or whatever he chooses to call himself.” The cowboy pulls out a hand rolled cigarette and lights it, “Only a true warrior could hope to prevail against such an enemy, and I only did so by the smallest margin.”

At the same time, a woman standing next to Roland lets out a bone chilling cackle. She’s a witch, from JK Rowling’s Harry Potter Universe and she looks like she’s graduated from the Azula School of Crazy Bitches with full honors. “What do you know? Just a dusty relic of fallen Gilead!” her sentences are breathy and her words are strangely seductive. Roland is speechless at the sheer freakiness of Bellatrix Lestrange. “Our dear Dark Lord is the greatest Wizard of all time!” she throws her arms in the air as if listening to music that no one else can hear. “Victory is ours!” Roland just raises an eyebrow and puffs his cigarette, “I will walk that way,” he says, before putting some distance between him and the crazy lady.

Announcer: The final member of Team Flagg is none other than acclaimed author and confused amoral drug dealer Stephen King, who appeared as a self-insert during the final volumes of the Dark Tower series.

Unassuming, bespectacled and somewhat Geeky, Stephen King looks decidedly unimpressive next to Snape’s bat like countenance. “You know, I’ve never seen anyone who acted as smarmily gay as you do,” King says to Snape. In response, Snape shouts, “Expillarmus!” The spell combined with a snap of his wand knocks back Stephen King into a gun rack, where he experiences a great deal of pain. The three hosts go to help up the author.

Announcer: Both warriors in this case bring with them a powerful and devastating arsenal of magic spells and abilities as well as decades of experience.

Voldemort: Born: December 31st, 1926 True name: Tom Marvolo Riddle Offensive Spells: Avada Kedavera, Fiendfyre, crucio Defensive Spells: expillarmus, aqua scutum Magical animals: basilisk, nagini Special powers: apparition, parsel tongue

Randall Flagg: True name: Walter Paddick Born: ????? Aliases: Randall Flagg, Walter O’Dim, Richard Fry, Russell Faraday, Rudin Filaro, Frank Fontaine, Frank Gorland, Samir Duran, Colonel Ackerman . . . too many to list Offensive Spells:transfiguration, killer tarot cards, controlled lightning Defensive Spells: necromancy, illusion casting, Magical animals: tunnel daemon, enthralled wolves Special powers: shape shifting, dimensional travel

Announcer: To get the ball rolling, we start off with offensive spells and team Voldemort takes first crack.

The team is once more standing in the verdant green meadow where they do most of their outdoor testing that involves arrows and the less destructive single shot firearms.

Snape and Bellatrix seem to be arguing. “Damn you Severus!” hisses the rolling eyed crazy woman. “Why must you conduct the first trial? You are a traitor and you loved a mudblood!” Severus merely brushes off Bellatrix, “Well Bella, first of all, you are very ugly.” She narrows her eyes in fury but Snape has more for her. “Second, if you ever mention Lilly Everson in that context I shall kill with my bare hands.” He sounds utterly calm and collected, “And thirdly I have the benefit of being outbred, with all the advantages that entails.”

Stephen King watches the exchange with fascination, “Ouch,” says the mousey writer, “She got served.” Roland just grunts noncommittally and adjusts his cowboy hat, preferring to keep his distance from the crazy witch.

Some distance away, looking very out of place is a giant spider the size of a hummer. The giant beast is kept at bay inside a giant, magically enchanted cage. Geoff does a little bit of explaining, “What we have there is one of the giant spiders from the Great forest at Hogwart’s castle’s forbidden forest.” The screen shifts to a series of shots where the team fire assault weapons and even a rocket launcher at the spider to no avail. “After trying out various muggle weapons on this creature,” Geoff elaborates, “We’ll see just how effective the killing curse is on it.”

Geoff, Armand and Max all stand behind the protective glass, which will do absolutely nothing if the spider breaks lose and gets past Snape. Armand talks into the camera, “Avada Kedavera is known as the killing curse and is the foremost of the unforgiveable curses; so named because it’ll earn you a lifetime in Azkeban the Wizard’s prison.” Armand turns around to grab some chips that are sitting on the sensor table while Max turns around and starts filling in blanks for his partner, “Avada Kedavera comes from Aramaic which means ‘let it be destroyed’. Originally it referred to illness but the spell evolved to kill people, animals and monsters.”

Snape stands ready before the caged spider. “Snape!” Geoff shouts, “are you ready!?” Snape merely nods, not wanting to disgrace himself in front of the American fools.

And Geoff gives the customary countdown. “In 3 . . . 2 . . . 1. . . kill!”

The door on the spider’s cage flies open and the big beast comes out. It doesn’t even take two steps before Snape says the curse. “Avada Kedavera!” A flash of green light, like a laser comes from his wand. And the instant it strikes the spider, it’s all over. Like pulling the plug on the computer, the effect is instantaneous. The spider that shrugged off a rocket launcher and mundane muggle weapons just dies like that.

Somewhere at the Hogwarts School of witchcraft and Wizardry, Rubeus Hagrid sees events unfold on his seventeen inch TV. “Vincent!” he cries, for he knew that spider by name, “NOOOO!!!”

Announcer: Deadliest Warrior Weapons maker David baker demonstrates the work behind Voldemort’s wand. Kindly old man that he is, venerable smith David Baker shows us the wand that Tom Riddle used. “This is a thirteen and a half inch yew framework with a phoenix feather core.” The old man turns it around to show it to the camera. “I just happened to have taught Garrick Olivander everything he knows.”

Back at the fight club, Snape is preparing to demonstrate the crucio spell. “This is a spell which is designed to cause searing agony. Like the killing curse, it is enormously draining for a magic user. My entire class of Gryffindor dunderheads could all say the name and I could not so much as feel a back ache.” At the same time, Stephen King has his own wand out and is shouting, “Crucio! Crucio! Crucio! . . .” over and over again at Snape. Nothing happens and a moment later, Snape takes away Stephen King’s wand. “Give me that, you blazing idiot!” Stephen King shrinks away from the scary potions master, back to Roland’s side. Roland lights up another smoke, “Aye, a spell which can torture a man so. This shall be a potent weapon.”

Snape stands before the camera, “I am not waiting for the countdown, I have places to be other than a ridiculous show like this.” At his side, Bellatrix nags in his ear. “Severus, you traitorous faggot! Let me do the crucio spell!” As a death eater the crucio curse was her speciality; her use of it caused Neville Longbottom’s parents to go permanently insane. Snape grits his teeth, “Bella, shut up.”

Then without warning he fires the spell at Robert Daly, who is typing on his laptop. “Crucio!” Robert suddenly starts convulsing as if he’s having a seizure. For the first time ever he actually gets out of his swivel chair, he’s in so much agony. And I thought his ass had fused to the seat via osmosis. Robert convulses, foams and gurgles as the spell lights every pain receptor in his body on fire. The crucio curse is like having a starving hydralisk shoved up one’s ass (a peppered hydralisk), a hot needle shoved into the urethra and then being given an acid bath and skullfucked at the same time. Multiply that by about fifteen thousand and you’ll almost be as in much pain as crucio can deliver. Roland Deschain, seeing how Robert is in agony, decides to help. “This witchcraft is monstrous,” he says gravely and pulls out his revolver; intending to put Robert out of his misery like a horse with a broken leg. Cocking the hammer, Roland takes his gun and shoots Robert twice. The heavy fifty calibre bullets strike Robert like a hammer and nearly topple him.

“We are so going to get sued for this,” says Geoff just as Snape stops the crucio curse. Robert, having been put through the worst pain of his life and shot twice by a gun whose barrels are made from the melted down alloy of Excalibur, drops dead like a sack of potatoes. The camera shifts to show an ambulance speeding towards the fight club.

As paramedics haul away Robert, Bellatrix is laughing and clapping like a little girl at a magic show. “Bravo! Bravo!” she shouts. Laughing eerily, she praises the show, “I love American shows, I love violence and death.” She is also a fan of God of War. Snape tries to ignore Bellatrix. Instead he merely comments, “My, I think that may have been excessive.”

Meanwhile, the raggedy and psychotic Bellatrix saunters over to Roland with a swagger that’s meant to be seductive. “Hello, cowboy,” he says playfully; she causes Stephen King to hide behind Roland. “Maybe when the show is over you and I can make hay while the sun shines?” To make her point, Bellatrix takes her index and middle finger, puts either of them on her cheeks and starts flicking her tongue in and out in a highly suggestive way. Roland’s eyes just widen but he says nothing.

Announcer: And now the final spell, fiendfyre, a dreadful spell which destroys everything in a sea of living flame.

The crew has set up a gel dummy, replicating human flesh but Snape will have none of it. “Your safety preparations are highly inadequate,” he complains coldly to Geoff, Armand and Max. “The fiendfyre spell is far too destructive to be done indoors.” Geoff shrugs, “Okay, we’ll just have to take it outside.” Max agrees with his friend, “I’ll get my stuff.”

But then predictably things go wrong. Before anything more can be done, Stephen King points a magic wand at the gel dummy and shouts, “Fyre frei!”

And with that, all hell breaks loose. A huge billowing column of fire launches out of Stephen’s wand, causing the author to panic and drop it. As the preternatural flames billow and grow, they totally melt the gel dummy and start going out of all control. In seconds, they start to form giant flaming dragons, eagles, dinosaurs and even a Mack Machowitz made of fire.

It isn’t long before the conflagration goes wildly out of control. Everyone is running like hell from the fiery beasts and Max is trying to get as much data from his computers before the fire lookalike of Mack goes at him with a fiery hatchet. Armand is being chased in circles by a duo of fiery stallions and Geoff is using a fire extinguisher to hold back a cannibal-homunculus-crocodile machine made of flame.

“Everyone out, now!” Snape screams as the flames start to light his robes on fire. It’s just like at that damn Quiddich match in the first book.

Announcer: Even though the fire completely burned down the fight club no one was hurt and most of our data came out intact. Thus we’ll be shacking up with the Mythbusters for the next few days.

Mythbusters announcer: Hey there friend, didn’t expect to see you here again.

Announcer: Uh, not you.

MB announcer: Oh, still sore over last time? You know, we all know that you’re actually David Wyndham.

Announcer: How dare you!

MB announcer: Let’s dance, princess

There’s the sound of fisticuffs as the Deadliest Warrior crew talks with the Mythbusters, Jamie and Adam. “Thanks guys,” Geoff pours out gratitude and exhaustion to his two hosts. His hair is scorched and like Adam used to be, he’s missing an eyebrow. “We’ll try to stay out of your way.”

“That’s totally cool,” says the bespectacled Adam. “That’s right,” Jamie concurs behind his walrus moustache, “We’ll be spending most of our time at Alameda testing out the myth that if Robin Williams travels faster than the speed of light he’ll resurrect the Emperor of the Warhammer 40 K universe and simultaneously transform into his own grandmother.”

Behind them, Robin Williams is strapped to the front of the Millennium Falcon, “Let’s go ladies, we’re burning daylight!” shouts the hyper comedian; who is eager to break the speed of light.

Announcer: I think I lost a tooth . . . anyhow. We go now to test Randall Flagg’s offensive spells!

In M5, Roland Deschain appears with a magic wand of his own. “Though I may require a wand for this accursed magic, Flagg may do it with a wave of his hand.” With a flick of his wand, Roland transforms an Ak-47 on a table into a puppy. Bellatrix laughs, “Child’s play!” she mocks, forgetting her hots for Roland.

Roland fixes a grim smirk on his face. “Be careful what you speak of, for Flagg is a master of transfiguration.” To make his point, Roland waves his wand and says something that sounds like “Ohai mark!”

In an instant, Bellatrix convulses and is transformed into Tommy Wiseau, creator of one of the worst and most bizarre movies ever made. Unaware of her transformation, Bellatrix/Tommy protests his/her innocence. “It’s bullshit,” she/he protests in that vague, unspecific foreign accent, “I did not torture the Longbottoms.” Like everyone was expecting, Bella/Tommy conjures up a water bottle and throws it. “I did not torture them, I did naaaht!” Then, “Oh hi, Roland.” With a wave of his wand Roland turns Bellatrix back into her usual untanned, insane herself. Shaking her head like a startled dog, Bellatrix checks herself all over. She recounts to herself, “So this Roland, is a murderer, abusive and no problem with hurting women.” She looks up and grins with broken, yellow and stained teeth. “Where have you been all my life?” Roland then does the unthinkable. “Well, I . . . I’ve never had a woman say those parts of me were attractive before.” Bella gives that insane smile of hers (seriously, the years in Azkeban have not been kind to her) “Well Master Roland, how many innocent people have you killed?” Roland stutters, “Well, close to sixty, but I . . .”

Before Roland and Bellatrix can do it on camera Stephen King cuts in, “Okay, just go to commercial.”

Commercial Break Warning: This commercial contains graphic content. In response to the cancellation of the Show Deadliest Warrior, the bloggers have all gone on strike and have become male strippers.

The screen starts showing a glimmering psychedelic field. A caption appears that reads, “Master of the Boot.” Master of the Boot looks to be about twenty with dark brown hair and eyes. He’s relatively fit and he’s wearing a pink speedo and a flower in his hair. He smiles as he spins around the brass pole. It’s like he’s making love to it. Soon, captions appear detailing the names of every blogger Monopolyman aka Afanofsparta keeps his shirt on because this light brown haired college student is afraid to strip, and he can afford to lay off the Twinkies for a few weeks. He then uses a gun to extort money from the audience. Ares is a Dutch man dressed like an eleventh century knight and requires two helpers to allow him to get properly naked. People scream in pain as he throws his armor this way and that but based on those sculpted abs it’s worth it. Seriously, you could use him as a cheese grater And the great blogger Vercingetorix has a great body, unfortunately he’s stripping so slowly that he’ll be done getting naked by next year.

You may return to your regularly scheduled programming

Announcer: And back to the show, where we test out Flagg’s lethal tarot cards.

Stephen King appears in the middle of a dusty pit area full of bones. Stephen gives a quick rundown of the cards. “During battle, Randall or Walter is capable of using these tarot cards to either predict the future or kill someone.” To make his point, Stephen draws out, “The sailor,” he reads, pulling out a card showing a drowning sailor. Then, seeing a lizard on a rock, Stephen throws the card at the unlucky reptile. Flying out, the card comes to life. A massive tidal wave sweeps out and engulfs the lizard and half the camera and sound crew, probably dragging them into their deaths as all the mass of water is drawn back into the card; which then falls to the ground. Max and Geoff nod, while Armand cringes at the now dead camera and sound men stuck inside the card. The next card is the lady of shadows, a two faced women with a single eye who is both crying and laughing. The guys have set up a pig carcass on a stand. Stephen throws the card at the pig. Snape looks on expectedly. Without warning, black tentacles grab the pig and rip it off its hook. Deranged female laughter—or is it crying?—permeates the air and without warning, the pig is sucked into the card. Moments later, a veritable geyser of blood and shredded pork goes flying up into the air and the card once more falls silent. Now the final card, Death, represented by a skeleton in knight’s armor on horseback running over a king leisurely. Stephen King throws the final tarot card at an M1-Abrams tank that’s been conveniently donated to the show by a fan in the army. That fan’s superior officers will be so pissed off. In what looks like a flash of green light, the Tank crumbles into dust and thus the test ends. Stephen stands self-satisfied, “And that concludes by Flagg is the deadliest dark sorcerer. Now if I can just . . .” He’s about to pick up the Lady of the Shadows card when he sees that Bellatrix is having a conversation with it. Not wanting to tangle with Bella, he says, “Uh, let’s wait for her to finish.”

Snape appears before the camera, “Those cards were . . . adequate to defeat an ordinary enemy but you will find that the Dark Lord is far from an ordinary adversary. He is a powerful wizard rivalled only by Albus Dumbledore.” As he’s finishing his speech, Snape gets hit by a bolt of directed lightning and collapses.

Off to the side, Stephen King smirks as he holds up his magic wand. Roland leans over to him, “You shouldn’t have done that. He will kill you.” “What?” says Stephen, suddenly worried.

The scene shifts back to the three hosts

“So who took the offensive?” Max asks “I’ve got to say that Voldemort wins this round,” Geoff states, “Avada Kedavera gives him an instant kill and fiendfyre is pretty potent.” “That’s true,” Max concedes, “But the killing curse requires precise aiming and fiendfyre requires great concentration to control or else it kills the user.” “There’s also the fact that the tarot cards can attack remotely, in case Flagg gets hit with crucio,” Armand points out.

It’s very clear to the three hosts. It wasn’t easy but Lord Voldemort gets this one.

Edge: Voldemort

Announcer: Coming up, the two foes test out their animal companions

Back at M5 industries, the crew are fitting in quite well. They are being clean and respectful about staying at the Mythbusters place. Roland has some leather gloves and is holding a wild wolf on a leash. The beast seems wary and tense so nobody makes any sudden moves. “This is a gray wolf,” Roland explains. He bears an uncanny resemblance to the four legged killing machine next to him; it turns Bellatrix on. “In my world these are some of the most common predators; plaguing farmers, hunters and unguarded children.” The wolf looks around, oblivious to what the humans are saying. “This is a wild wolf,” says Roland, “And Marten has been known to use them to perform his bidding.”

Roland turns to Snape; having quashed his ego long ago Roland has no problems working with the rivals to achieve his ends. “Professor Snape, if you please.”

Snape nods and waves his wand, “Of course.” And like a flick of a light switch, Krusty the Klown appears in the middle of the workshop.

“Hey-hey!” shouts the greasy clown, only to realize that he’s been teleported away. “The hell is this?” Krusty demands. Roland smiles, “Husky, attack!” and he lets the wolf off its leash. Husky the wolf needs no prompting and without warning he pounces on Krusty and starts mauling him. Naturally, Krusty starts screaming and rolling around as the wolf rips into him. It’s all very heart warming.

Geoff seems thrilled by a clown getting ripped to shreds by a wild wolf and cheers alongside Bellatrix, while Max and Armand are a little more controlled. Max winces, while Armand turns around and notices that a heavily injured Robert Daly is typing away on Jamie Hynaman’s computer. “Jamie will be so pissed off,” says Armand.

Mythbusters Announcer: Meanwhile, while the Deadliest warrior boys have fun at M5, Jamie and Adam have run into trouble.

The Millennium Falcon sits idle at the runway at Alameda. Robin Williams is still tied to the bow of the ship. Presently, a few space marines and an Inquisitor from the Warhammer 40K universe have showed up and they don’t like what Jamie and Adam are doing. “What’s the problem?” Jamie asks the Inquisitor. “This is heresy!” says the big human in a suit of power armor who is ridiculously overpowered. “Moving Robin Williams at faster than the speed of light is blasphemy against the Emperor’s law and the Imperium of man.” “So what else is heresy?” asks a curious Adam.

In response, the inquisitor pulls out a piece of parchment and unrolls it. It’s a long list with a few thousand points but the first few read as such:

By order of the Imperial Inquisition and the Ordo Malleus Moving Robin Williams past the speed of light is heresy Reading the Twilight series is heresy Eating my sesame cake is heresy Having diabeetus is heresy Having a flat tire is heresy Not having a flat tire is heresy Tampering with the camera in the shower is heresy Being gay is extra crispy heresy

Adam is astounded by the incredibly arbitrary nature of the list. “That’s a lot of heresy.”

“Indeed,” says the inquisitor, as the Space marines level their weapons. “And planning a heresy is also a heresy.” He draws a massive gun. “Therefore you both will die without trail.”

“Well, fuck you and the horse you rode in on,” Jamie says with outrage. “Get em, buster!”

The space marines and inquisitor look around only to realize that Buster the dummy is pointing a canon at them. Inside the cannon is a Michael Cain impersonator. “I’m fake Michael Cain,” says the man with a shitty cockney accent.

The Inquisitor’s eyes widen with fear as Buster lights the fuse. One second later the cannon fires and Fake Michael Cain detonates, killing the Inquisitor, his men and their spaceship. In joy, the Mythbusters give each other a high five.

Announcer: And back at M5, we see the deadly power of Voldemort’s pet snake Nagini

David baker appears before the camera. He pulls out a vial of green liquid as the camera cuts to a shot of a giant snake ripping into a gel torso. “This is a sample of venom from the now dead snake nagini.” Says Dave. “This venom is a potent mix of anticoagulants, neurotoxins and several magic components which damage a human body in ways that science can’t even understand.” “Wolves may be able to take Nagini in numbers but one bite from this snake and Flagg is done for.”

Announcer: but the really dangerous animals have yet to be revealed, like Voldemort’s basilisk. The camera shows footage of the basilisk attacking students at Hogwarts in The Chamber of Secrets.

“To put it in simplest terms, a basilisk is the king of serpents. Hatched from a shell-less chicken’s egg and incubated under a toad, this deadly serpent’s glare can kill all those who make eye contact and possesses some of the most powerful venom known to the magical world; being able to destroy some of the most hardened magical objects,” Snape explains, “The dark lord possessed the power of parseltongue, or the snake language and did command such a beast; even finding a replacement basilisk during the battle of Hogwarts.” “So how do you kill a basilisk?” Geoff wonders aloud.

“The crow of a cockerel is required to kill the basilisk for good or else some form of magic that is impossible to regenerate from. All else will only slow down the beast.”

Off to the side, Stephen King is peering inside of a darkened containment chamber. “Well, we’ve got something better. Come have a look.”

Max goes in for a look. The chamber is completely dark, not a bit of visible light; so he has to use a special night vision monitoring set to see what’s inside. What’s inside scares the shit out of him. SLAM! Max jumps back as something big and mean throws its weight against the side of the container. Curious, Armand goes sin for a look as Max steps back in fright. Inside the container is something that looks superficially resembles a centipede. Armand steps back at the frightening monster. Even in thermal vision it’s ugly as sin.

“What is it?” asks Geoff in awe as he peers into the side of the tank.

“That is the demon in the dark,” says Roland, “A creature from the Todash darkness, it nearly ate me and my companion for its evening meal.” Roland turns to Snape, “You say your king serpent kills with sight? Well, this creature has no eyes. Its only weakness is light. Even a small amount causes the creature to recoil.”

Announcer: To test out which creature is deadlier, Geoff has “borrowed” the Mythbusters stuff and used it to synthesize the hard yet flexible carapace of the tunnel demon as well as a replica basilisk mouth with working fangs.

The scene changes to show Geoff finishing welding what looks like a giant mechanical snake mouth. “This thing is designed to close down with six thousand pounds of force.” He points to the synthetic fangs that have reservoirs of real basilisk venom attached. “And these fangs will start pumping out venom when the bite meter goes down. Max walks up to the snake mouth. He leans in, “Wow, Geoff, this is pretty amazing. I— Max is suddenly cut off as the snake jaws clamp shut on him. He starts screaming for help as the pressure on the snake jaws build. Snape and Roland run forward to give aid, while Bellatrix laughs and claps and hopes that Max will die.

Suddenly from behind a crate, Mack Machowitz appears. “Die Max!” he seethes with fury. “Stop him!” shout some security guards. Mack growls with anger and runs into a doorway, but after he runs through the doorway vanishes and the guards are baffled.

Announcer: Max is unharmed and so our test goes forward.

Geoff stands before a synthetic replica of the tunnel daemon’s outer shell. “This here was made by David Baker,” He points to the inside of the tube shaped structure. “We’ve got an inner layer representing the blood vessels of the creature, then a layer of connective tissue and finally the hard outer shell. Can the basilisk bite through? Let’s find out.” Snape takes Armand to the side and protests, “This test is highly inaccurate for our purposes. Can you not find a real basilisk?” The answer is no, “Sorry, but after the shop burned down we practically have no budget left. Sorry, Snape.”

Geoff stands with the on switch. “Okay, in three, two, one . . . bite!”

The metallic basilisk fangs clamp onto the armor and there is an ominous creak as the armor struggles to stand up to the mighty jaws. Everyone watches with baited breath as the metallic jaws struggle. The pneumatic pistons press with all their might With a signal from Geoff, a semi-injured Max hits a button and venom starts to pump through the fangs. Geoff cranks the power on the snake jaws, pushing them to the limit of their structural integrity. However after nearly two minutes of this it’s obvious that the jaws and venom of the basilisk are inadequate to defeat the armor of the tunnel daemon.

Announcer: So the three hosts analyze the data gathered. “So tunnel daemon beats basilisk and wolves beat snake?” Max asks. “I disagree,” says Armand, “The wolves can kill Nagini but a single bite from her will kill Flagg. Also, Nagini is a horcrux and impossible to destroy by ordinary means.” “But any advantage that Voldemort takes from Nagini is destroyed by the tunnel daemon,” Geoff puts in, “And Flagg is capable of casting darkness spells to reverse day and night. So he could use the daemon in any condition.” “It’s clear to me,” says Max.

Edge: Randall Flagg

Announcer: Entering the next phase of testing special powers, tempers flare and rivalries clash.

“Mr. Desmoulins,” Roland walks up to Geoff. “Yeah?” says Geoff. “the witch Bellatrix has taken my guns and hidden them,” Roland says dryly. “Can’t you get them back?” Roland growls a bit and points over his shoulder with his thumb. Bellatrix cackles, flashing off his back teeth and lack of oral hygiene. In either hand are Roland’s revolvers with their sandalwood handles. With a little coo, Bellatrix takes both guns and shoves them down her bra. Yes, she shoves those cold steel guns between her withered, dried, botched- tattooed and scarred breasts. Azkaban has truly not been kind to her. To fix up those boobies Bellatrix will need some serious lotion . . . to start.

“Well good luck with that,” Geoff tells Roland.

The scene shifts to a giant area outside in the parking lot outside of M5 industries. They’ve chosen to do these tests outside for fear of destroying all of Jamie and Adam’s stuff indoors. Before their eyes, Snape teleports back and forth across the parking lot, appearing on top of cars, on top of telephone poles and all about. “This is apparating,” Snape explains between jumps. “This is a procedure wherein a wizard or witch uses magic to open a tube between spaces and dimensions and instantly transports to one areas from another.” Snape pops in and out of existence with a whip like crack. “While it can be blocked by anti-apparition charms, a skilled wizard like the Dark Lord will be able to break through such charms.” We see Snape appear on top of the Empire State building, inside a nuclear bunker and even in a ladies bathroom. Finally he appears back at the parking lot. He looks at Stephen King, “Now how do you respond, Mr. King?”

Stephen King smiles. “I respond by using a trick that Marten uses that I also use to escape my ex-wife.” And with that, Stephen King spins on the spot like a ballerina and transforms into a perfect replica of harry potter. Snape’s hackles raise at his most famous and most hated student. Then, Stephen transforms into Albus Dumbledore, Severus Snape and most disturbingly of all, Lord Voldemort himself. Stephen King then transforms back into himself. “Those disguises are so good I could get all the way into the ministry of magic without breaking a sweat. Hell, I could even turn into Lilly Potter and nobody would know the difference.”

“Avada Kedavera!” Snape shouts and fires the curse at King. Stephen King shits himself and flinches, the curse deliberately passing only inches from his face. Snape glares at King and then turns away, to see Roland debating whether or not to jam his hand into Bellatrix’s cleavage and pull out his gun. Roland’s hand goes forward . . . and then it stops. He goes forward—and then he stops. And he goes forward and then . . .

Snape continues, “The Dark Lord is also a master of parseltongue, the language of Snakes.”

At this point, Stephen King starts laughing at Snape. “Talking to snakes won’t do Voldie any good in this fight. He might as well put up a white flag right now!”

But once again, Snape won’t tolerate Stephen King’s bullshit. Pulling a tape recorder out of his pocket, Snape hits the playa button and a weird hissing comes out. It’s snake language for “Kill Stephen King.” On cue, hundreds of snakes of all size and species start to swarm on Sephen King. They come out of the grass and they come out of the sewers. A Giant anaconda even turns up out of nowhere and starts eating Stephen King.

Roland walks back to the camera while everyone is trying to keep Stephen King from being Snake chow. Pulling out a piece of chalk, he walks to a wall and starts drawing. “One of Marten’s abilities is to draw a doorway wherever he pleases.” It’s rather obvious that Roland is drawing a door. “These doors of his can go anywhere, even unto hell itself.” Finishing off the door, Roland draws a door knob and opens it.

Max, Geoff and Armand don’t see this since they’re trying to shoot the giant anaconda that’s trying to eat Stephen King, so only Snape is watching. The potions master nods at Roland’s knowledge and professionalism. Roland opens the door to reveal a vista of Hell from doom. As a big cyber demon wlaks towards them, Roland closes the door and opens it again. This time the door opens up to the inside of the Ishimura from Dead space. A necromorph runs at the team but Roland closes the door in time. The process is repeated several more times. He opens the trans dimensional door to reveal Jurassic Park, the inside of the Spancer Mansion full of zombies, the swirling atomic hell of an exploding star and even Bikini Bottom. SpongeBob gives his weird little laugh and Roland closes the door for the last time.

Snape strokes his chin thoughtfully. “These abilities are rather potent.” “Indeed,” agrees Roland, “Though I would say that the match is fairly close.” “I believe that as impressive as this ‘walkin dude’s’ powers are, in this category the Dark Lord comes ahead due to his apparition.” Roland nods, “Aye, we see things the same, Professor. Tell me, do you like riddles?”

Edge: Voldemort.

Announcer: Stephen King is okay; he got all his shots on a trip to the Isle of Wight. Now, the final round of testing compares these two dark Wizard’s defensive tactics.

In the parking lot in front of the Mythbusters place, Roland points to Stephen King. “Marten has the ability to choose his visage but unlike the common witch or wizard he can transform into several things at once and spread his mind out among them.” Before our very eyes Stephen King transforms into a big flock of Ravens and starts to attack the camera crew. Men run screaming at the claws and beaks of the ravens and desert their posts. The flock of Ravens swirls around, splitting into various parts before flying back together and turning into Stephen King. The geeky author smirks, “The advantage of this is that if one Raven gets hit by Avada Kedavera, you still survive because your intelligence is distributed, much like the horcruxes.” King adjusts his glasses, “Though if a raven is killed you will be injured, you could lose an hand or foot but you won’t die. So take that, Mr. Killing Curse.”

Roland pats his buddy on the back, “Aye, and Marten can also transform into locusts or a large carnivorous monster. For the best defense is a good offense.”

Bellatrix laughs at Stephen King, “Look at the little man with a tiny dick, look at his pathetic parlor tricks.” In response to STehpen King’s transformation, Bellatrix casts a transparent shield over herself. Seeing this as his chance, Snape starts to fire curses, hexes and spells at Bellatrix’s shield, to no effect. Every attack hits her spell and reverberates like a gong. When Snape has attacked enough, Bella lowers the shield and it transforms into a large mass of water that splashes on the ground. “The aqua scutum is a highly advanced defensive form. It’ll block nearly anything except the killing curse. It can even shield from the confundus curse. The only problem is that you can’t attack with it.”

Snape interrupts Bellatrix. “The Dark Lord’s other defensive power is expillarmus. A simple and easily mastered spell but good for physically knocking back other foes when one is wounded or concussed or in difficulty concentrating for more powerful attacks.”

Announcer: Both fighters bring in some rock solid defenses but Flagg has a defense that is also an offense

The scene is set inside a graveyard in the middle of the night. There’s a full moon outside and somewhere a wolf howls. Max is visibly scared in the center of the graveyard and frankly so does Stephen King. The camera pans to allow us to see the inscriptions on various tombstones like Here lies Bevis: He never Scored And Deadliest Warrior TV Show: your time came too soon

“I like the ambiance,” says Snape conversationally but what purpose do we have for being brought here?”

“This,” says Roland, “is one of Flagg’s most potent and dangerous spells. It is his power of necromancy and the ability to control the dead that has confounded me time and time again; much like when he resurrected Nort the weed eater.” “Inferri,” says Bellatrix in a confused voice.

“Nay, mam,” Roland pulls out both guns in in preparation for the final number, “Not inferi. These beasts which Flagg resurrects have both mind and intelligce, but nothing of free will. Their former personalities remain intact as well as their abilities. Flagg uses them as meat shields.”

Taking up position by a tomb stone, Roland cocks his revolvers. “These ghasts are impervious to most attacks. I can only kill them because my guns are made from the melted down blade of Excalibur. Likewise, fiendfyre and Avada Kedavera can dispatch them.”

The team waits but they don’t have to wait long. Soon, a sea of undead hands burst out from the ground, the hosts shudder and Stephen King starts to run like a little pussy. Very soon it becomes clear that he has good reason to be running. Bursting out of the ground are a horde of undead. At first glance they appear human, but looking closer you can see their sunken eyes and rigor mortis setting in. Even scarier, the undead start calling out, asking the cast and crew to have a picnic with them. Then all of the ghasts start pulling out kitchen knives and handguns. A few even draw wands for they were wizards in life.

Roland waits no longer and starts opening fire, using the tombstone as cover against bullets. Max, Armand and Geoff all have guns of their own and they shoot them sideways, in that lame so called gangsta style. But unlike Roland’s bullets, theirs do nothing. Bellatrix starts launching fire at the undead, but they don’t even seem to notice. Several other curses and hexes don’t even phase them but Avada Kedavera causes them to turn to dust. However this powerful spell is inadequate for crowd control when the crowd has no sense of self preservation.

Things look like they might get out of hand when Snape lays down the fiendfyre. Nearly all of the undead are burned to a crisp. A few who are wizards and witches rise above the flames but are shot down by Roland. When all is said and done, Snape and Roland bow to each other. Then for no apparent reason, Roland’s underwear flies off as if it’s on a string. Roland snaps up in surprise and grabs his backside. Turning around, he sees that Bellatrix has used her magic to snatch the tidy whities off of him. Roland can only wince in horror as Bellatrix sniffs his underwear.

Announcer: And so now the Fight club has been rebuild and we can now leave the Mythbusters workshop until everything somehow manages to get destroyed again. But just so you know, Randall Flagg so took the edge here.

Jamie and Adam have arrived back at M5 Industries to say goodbye to Max, Armand and Geoff. “Hey guys, thanks for showing up and keeping the place clean while we were away,” Adam bids. “Yeah,” adds Jamie, “You cleaned up all your messes, because god knows Adam and I had enough stress out in Alameda.”

Geoff speaks for himself and his crew, “Hey Jamie, it was our pleasure. What kind of trouble did you have?”

A voice comes from behind them, “Not so far, you tit-fucking heretics!” Everyone spins around to see an Inquisitor of the Ordo Heriticus with guns drawn and three other inquisitors backing him up. “You killed an Inquisitor and propelled Robin Williams beyond the speed of light. Also you use too much toilet paper; thus you must all die!” The Inquisitor and his friends raise their bolters and lasguns but Jamie and Adam stand fast. There’s no way they’re going to let some half-baked space fascists tell them what to do.

“You can eat shit and die!” Jamie proclaims. “Buster, hit it!” Everyone turns to see Buster the dummy operating a large cannon. Jammed into the barrel of the cannon is a gasoline soaked raccoon. The Inquisitor screams as Buster fires the cannon. The gasoline soaked raccoon instantly kills the Inquisitor and his narrow minded friends. Grinning from ear to ear, Adam stands over the burning corpses of the Inquisition and says his creed proudly. “I reject your reality and substitute it with my own, motherfuckers!”

Mythbusters announcer: And with that little trouble taken care of, the Deadliest Warrior boys are on their way once again Shows an animation of the three hosts jumping into a pickup truck and driving away.

Back at the fight club, everything is shiny and new, even the gun racks and weapons cases are in full condition. , Snape, Roland, Stephen King and Bellatrix all crowd around Max and his computer panels. Across the screens, green Matrix like patterns dance to and fro like rain on a windshield .Punching in the right program, Max grabs a great big jack and holds it over a socket. “It’s time,” he grins, and plugs it in. It has begun

Simulation:

Somewhere in Great Britain, Hogwarts Castle

The Battle for Hogwarts rages. The Castle of the four founders, which has stood for over a thousand years of wizard history, is now under attack. Their numbers are seemingly endless. They are many and diverse but they are united in their obedience to the one true Dark Lord, Lord Voldemort. It is Lord Voldemort alone of all the great Dark Wizards in history who deserves truly the title of Dark Lord. Voldemort watches with cold, red eyes as his forces lay siege to the castle. Among his number there are wizards, giants, dementors and a hundred and one other creatures who have thrown in their lot with the cause. At a first glance, Voldemort’s pureblood supremacy policy might not look the best to attract such a diverse array of followers, but the ministry of Magic’s years of abusing and reducing non-human magical beings to second class citizens is one weakness that Voldemort can exploit. Spells rocket through the sky and smash against the wall. Hogwarts has many defenses. From a purely physical standpoint it has some of the finest defenses of any castle in Europe, magic or mundane. Yet the castle’s magical defenses are a thousand times greater. There is no magical place safer in all of Europe. Yet the Dark Lord has prepared. All around the castle, several moats have formed where earlier there was only grass. These moats are filled with molten lava, shark infested waters and even a muddy moat filled with ravenous graboids that snatch up any ground forces. Superseding all of these defenses is a gigantic force field cast by the students and teachers of the school. The force field is like a great quilt, made of differing colors and textures but just the same it stands up to all magical attacks. Giants hammer at the force field with hammers that weigh twenty tons. Dementors scale the shield like lizards on glass. Vampires claw at it with rabid fury and scores and scores of wizards fire hex after hex, curse after curse at it. High above it all are Voldemort and his inner circle of followers, the Death Eaters. A circle of figures, all clad in black robes and wearing silver skull masks. They are the Dark Lord’s inner circle, his most skilled and most loyal followers. Though some, like the Malfoys have begun to fall out of favor. Voldemort watches the initial attack. Those wizards and witches down there are only cannon fodder, enthusiastic volunteers who have deluded themselves into thinking that they can earn a share in the glory of the pure blood wizard race when they themselves are barely better than the muggle swine. Down by the wall, Wizards and witches fall by the score to spells cast from inside the protective bubble of Hogwarts castle. They are slowly cut down as their spells can do no damage to the shield of Hogwarts. The dementors twitch and fall to the ground as if electrocuted and the hammers of the giants go molten and burn their hands. The vampires fall back as bright laser like beams shoot from the shield and strike them down. All of this is to weaken the shield. Send in the cannon fodder to test the waters and defenses. One group of followers finds that the ground underneath them has turned into a massive trap door. They fall into a pit where they are impaled on twelve foot iron spikes; a little something installed by Godric Gryffindor. Another trapdoor pit opens up and Voldemort’s followers are drawn into a cyclone full of razor blades and broken glass. The attackers have the meat stripped from their bones in seconds. As this occurs, an army of slow mutants charges into the fray. These shambling beasts are painfully stupid and spend nearly all their lives in pain; hence they have very little sense of self preservation. They charge Highland style, with daggers, swords and enchanted shields to give them a fighting chance against magical opponents. They fall into the Hogwarts pit traps. However the mutants are numerous enough that they can actually clog up these traps built a thousand years ago by the founders. From high on, Voldemort smells change in the wind. He can feel the shield flickering. The defenders, while well entrenched are too few; even with their numbers bolstered by traitorous students of the House Slytherin. The shield will fall sooner or later. All it needs is the right push in the right place. Thus, the Dark Lord turns to his followers and upon one man in particular. It’s not hard to know which man the Dark Lord silently addresses. Among the ranks of the Death Eaters, he is the only one without a mask. For what need had Marten Broadcloak of a mask; to hide his crimes? Broadcloack’s long hair and moustache flutter in the wind. From behind their costumes, the Death Eaters look upon Marten with both jealousy and fear. They look on him with the emotions of the weak and cowardly. Marten feels the envy and resentment and drinks it all in. They hate him because he’s risen to the top as Voldemort’s right hand man. And he gained that position with a combination of raw talent and unrelenting ass kissing. For the Dark Lord has a massive ego and treasures anything which will gratify it. Marten, for that is his current name; is not above a little brown nosing. Marten knows what his employer desires and so he delivers. Drawing a design in the air with his long but robust fingers, Marten soon creates a bow out of pure energy. Taking the energy bow in one hand, Marten reaches into his cloak and pulls out an arrow that seems to be made of human bone. Instead of an arrow head, the arrow is tipped with the skull of a poisonous snake. Notching his bow, Marten is sure to take careful aim. The winds blow and dark clouds cover the sky as Marten pulls back the string and lines up a shot. Really, it’s just like golfing. As the arrow flies, lightning cracks down from the heavens and slams into the shield. Cracks appear across the previously impervious defense. Inside the castle, the defenders of Hogwarts look up in fear as the shield cracks. Through the cracks of the shield flies Marten’s arrow. It flies straight and true until it buries itself in the eye of Neville Longbottom. With the gory shaft sticking out the back of his head, Luna Lovegood is splattered in Neville’s blood and brains and she screams just as the boy she knew and loved falls dead. From his distant vantage point, Broadcloak smiles; his face twisting into a most unpleasant thing. He scored first blood for their side. Cracks appear all over the shield and the bone arrow does its work. Pulses come out of it like sound waves. They vibrate faster and faster until the great shield just shatters like a crystal goblet. Marten cracks a smile at his master, Voldemort but Voldemort does not return the smile in turn. If anything, he seems annoyed by Marten’s cheerful attitude. Never trust a man that is happy. And so, the forces of the Dark Lord attack. And Marten smiles and takes a moment to stroke his dangling moustache. On a nearby tree he spots a bird, and easy as 1,2,3, he uses a simple spell to kill the chirping nuisance. However, Marten has something deeper in mind. These Death Eaters are like like the cool kids crowd in high school. They all think they’re hot shit but really they’re just mindless peons. The only reason they kill is because of the same reason as the rest of the human race . . . peer pressure. But as Marten joins the rest of the Death Eaters in battle to slaughter every living thing in Hogwarts.

Later

The invasion of Hogwarts has been . . . less than successful. Blood has been spilled on both sides, quite literally. The soles of the Dark Lord’s feet are still sticky with blood. Before him stands his most successful servant, Severus Snape. For years Snape has been his eyes and ears within Dumbledore’s petty resistance. Now it’s time for Snape to render one final service. Voldemort’s slitted eyes turn to wand he holds. “The Elder wand does not obey me, Severus.” “My lord,” Snape bows, “You have done amazing things with this wand.” “I am an amazing Wizard,” Voldemort sneers at his follower, “But the wand only obeys he who has defeated its last owner.” In a disturbing moment, Voldemort’s eyes blink with a transparent nictitating membrane. “And Dumbledore was the previous owner, and you killed him.” Realizing what is happening, a moment of shock appears on Snape’s face but Voldemort is too good. With a wave of his hand, the ground beneath them transforms into a giant spike that impales Snape. Nagini the serpent starts to slither up to Snape, drawn by the scent of fresh meat. But suddenly, Voldemort turns the wand on her snake and shouts “Avada Kedavera!”. And in a flash of green light, not only is the snake killed but the horcrux hidden inside her is destroyed as well. Voldemort turns around only to see . . . .himself? Voldemort stands before “Voldemort” quaking with fury, “You would betray me of all people, Marten.” The last word is ground out with such rage. For once, the cool and collected Dark Lord is about to lose it. His sharp teeth are bared and his clawed hands shine in the dim moonlight. Most wizards and witches would piss themselves with fear to behold the great Lord Voldemort in such a state of rage, but to Randall Flagg it’s all just a monstrous joke. Flagg grins, wearing Voldemort’s looks and appearances. Grotesquely, he pushed out a bloated, infected tongue and licks his lips. “Marten, Flagg, Frank Fontaine, The Drode: I have many names.” He laughs, a high tittering laugh that causes spiders in their webs to curl up and die. “This is just what muggles like to call identity theft.” Flagg however has shown a fatal weakness; hubris. Though he’s stolen Voldemort’s wand and copied his features, the old snake still can strike. Just as Flagg raises the elder wand to give the killing curse, Voldemort reacts. “Accio wand!” he shouts. It’s a summoning spell; very elementary but its’ quick. And before Randall can say “ka-tet” the wand flies out of his hands and into those of Voldemort. “Avada Kedavera!” Voldemort shouts, but his enemy is one step ahead. Instantly, Flagg’s body turns into a mass of blood eyed ravens. The birds caw and fly up in a single mass. They smash through the roof and reform back into the treacherous Voldemort/Flagg. Nostrils filled with the smell of the kill, Flagg calls to the heavens and sends down a little present for little Tom Riddle. From the clouds, a massive bolt of lightning hits the small shack and blasts it into oblivion. Flagg laughs in victory. He’d like to see some bastard put up a defensive spell strong enough to block an elemental force like the lightning. Suddenly, Flagg’s shrill laughter is cut off as he starts to scream in agony. Suddenly it’s as if every torment he’s visited on others in his unnaturally long life is catching up to him. Flagg plummets to the ground like a stone. Luckily, a thorn bush cushions his fall, and shreds the hell out of his skin in the process. Suddenly, the pain stops and Flagg manages to get on his knees. He’s bleeding and injured and before he can recover, the crucio curse hits him once more with full force. Flagg has to admit, nothing causes as much pain as this curse. While other forms of torture desensitise the nerves, this does not; you still feel as much pain five hours in as you do at the start. It’s the closest thing to hell on earth you can imagine. The torture stops once more and Flagg falls to the ground, still wearing the face of Lord Voldemort. As he lies on the ground, he starts to cry and then he starts to chuckle. He finds humor in this; and really, he’s not afraid. “Gah!” Flagg’s laughter is cut short bu a foot placed firmly on his neck. Towering over him is lord Voldemort, sporting a cruel smirk of his own. He looks down at Flagg, pleased with just how small his enemy looks. As Flagg continues to silently weep, he knows perfectly well the malicious intent in Voldemort’s eyes. He knows it because he’s felt the same thing a hundred million times over a billion crimes committed over the years. Yet Flagg refuses to go silently in that good night. He’s raped, he’s murdered, he’s even dressed up like a clown and terrorized Gotham City as an anarchist; if he dies now, then he’ll have to regret not committing a million more terrible crimes. From inside his sleeve, Flagg can feel his trusted tarot cards. “Do your worst, chicken shit,” he taunts Voldemort. “AVADA KEDAV— “AH!” Flagg cries out in rage and fury as he throws his deadly tarot cards at the incestuous last son of Slytherin. Voldemort cannot finish his spell as suddenly a two faced woman jumps off the card and lunges at him with a quad of daggers. Not a pair, a quad of daggers; four deadly daggers with their home in the enemy’s heart. With no time to react, Voldemort activates the aqua scutum spell. The shield vibrates like a gong as the two faced Lady of Shadows strikes. One face cries while the other laughs and for the first time Voldemort feels real fear as the four daggers shatter his shield. Before the lady of shadows can kill the Dark Lord, Voldemort apparatus a safe distance away. Yet as any fool can tell you, when Randall Flagg is involved safety is an illusion. Voldemort apparates some fifteen miles away but the card the sailor is waiting for him. In no time, the Dark Lord is swamped by a lethal tidal wave. Voldemort tries to scream but his lungs are filled with water. Clenching his wand tight, Voldemort activates the fiendfyre spell nonverbally; a feat only performed by the most skilled wizards. Instantly, the water is full of fire beasts and serpents. The water turns to steam instantly and the sailor card is burned from the inside out. Voldemort lets out a long, loud scream as the card is destroyed. Let that be a lesson to all who would fuck with the Dark Lord. For all who wish to attack the Dark Lord must do so by first climbing over the twenty foot tall high pile of corpses of previous attackers. A loud and whistle turns Voldemort away from his latest kill. He sees the imposter, Marten, Flagg, whatever the fuck his name is. One moment, Flagg is wearing Voldemort’s face and in the next he transforms so that he looks exactly like Harry Potter. Everything is the same as Harry potter, even the scar. Still, Harry Potter never had such a look of naked greed and malice on his face; nor did Harry ever hold such sadism so close to his heart. “What’s the matter, Tom,” Flagg taunts his enemy wearing the face of the boy who lived, “Too kind and gentle to fight back?” he pretends to cringe and whimper as he says this. Voldemort grinds his teeth until he’s almost sure that they are going to crack into little pieces. He squeezes the Elder Wand so hard that it nearly breaks. Voldemort feels hate so strongly that it hurts him. “AVADA KEDAVERA!!!!!” he screams with all his might. Instead of a beam of light, it comes out as a great bolt of green light the size of a tree trunk. Before it can hit, Flagg transforms into a swarm of locusts and flies away, though some of the locusts are destroyed. The power of this killing curse is so great that vaporizes a tree and destroys the card the Lady of shadows. Flagg transforms back into himself after transfiguring his body into a swarm of locusts; but he is wounded. Flagg’s hand is missing. He bleeds and though the wound can be repaired through magic, Flagg feels molten fury at Voldemort. He intends to show that snake cunt who the real terror is. The gloves are off now. Voldemort flies through the forbidden forest like an avatar of death. He is death, because the only way to beat death is to become death. You have to kill or be killed; law of the jungle. As he flies through the forbidden forest to find the traitor Marten Broadcloak, Voldemort is attacked by a pack of wolves. A quick blast of fiendfyre quickly takes cares of the wolves and Voldemort keeps searching. No man has stood up to him so blatantly, not even Harry Potter. For the moment, Voldemort doesn’t care about his Death Eaters, those pathetic clingers on, nor the foolish boy who defied him, Potter; all he cares about is killing Flagg. All he cares about his killing the traitor. Voldemort scans around the dark and forbidding forest. The shadows are thick and the area is full of magic creatures, so getting a lock on Flagg will be difficult Flagg is hidden, daring his prey to come to him; but in this hunt the role of hunter and hunted are interchangeable. Who is hunting whom? Voldemort lowers himself to the ground, like a cobra concealing itself from its prey. Ever so quietly he begins to hiss a message to the snakes. His words, magnified by magic reach the ears of all the serpents in the great forest, including the king of all serpents. Voldemort slithers in the grass like the creatue that he so loves. Flagg himself is high up in a tree. He’s back to looking exactly like Voldemort. Unlike Tim, Randall has managed to locate his quarry. But just as he’s ready to deliver a killing blow, a snake bites Randall’s hand. It’s a small snake, only a common garter snake; Flagg hisses ever so slightly; and for the Dark Lord he might as well have shouted his presence. “Avada Kedavera!” A green bolt of light shoots out at the branch where Flagg is crouching. Flagg dodges the shot and hits the tree he’s standing on. The tree dies instantly, the leaves all fall off and the wood starts to rot. The branch under Flagg breaks but as he falls he transforms into something that looks like it’s half man and half thestral. Swooping down like a hawk, long talons reach for Voldemort; ducking and diving to avoid spells and hexes. Voldemort manages to apparate out of the way, but it was a close shave. He winces as he puts a hand to the massive gash across his chest. It’s not serious but it’s proof that he can be killed; and frankly that scares the shit out of poor Tom riddle. Flagg’s laughter rings through the forest, twice as loud now since he’s turned himself into a flying demon. “Your horcruxes are all gone, Tom! Potter destroyed them.” Voldemort stares at his wound with disbelief. Flagg’s voice manages to snap Voldemort back into action. He hisses and poises himself to strike. He can already hear the call of his most lethal servant. Just let that fool Broadcloak babble a bit longer. The demon-broadcloak launches himself at Voldemort with claws fully extended. Without warning, something huge rips out of the ground and throws Marten off his flight plan. Slamming into the ground, Marten looks up to see a gigantic green pillar and just in the nick of time he covers his eyes with his hands. The mighty basilisk rears up and roars, bearing its fangs for all to see. The one under the chamber of secrets was killed, but Voldemort just happened to find himself a new one and it has been quite faithful. Flagg cowers before the hideous serpent, whose very eyes are lethal. The monster starts to bow its head, intending to devour its master’s enemy with one gulp but the Walkin’ Dude had other plans. Raising his hands, the world is suddenly shrouded in darkness. A black, impenetrable veil descends that no eye can pierce. It throws off the basilisk’s aim just enough so that Flagg can avoid its gaping maw. Focusing his keen senses, Voldemort can hear something approaching, something that seems to both slither and move along on multiple legs. The tunnel demon slams into the basilisk with the force of an oncoming freight train. It’s a hideous thing and just as fortunate that it’s too dark to see it. It looks like the bastard lovechild of a centipede and a tumor with armor as thick as a battle tank. The basilisk and the tunnel demon twist and writhe, trying to get leverage over the other. The basilisk bites and bites but the demons’ thick exoskeleton blocks all efforts. The same cannot be said for the scales of the basilisk and the sharp mouthparts of the tunnel monstrosity. The tunnel dweller rips into the basilisk, inflicting deep but nonlethal wounds. Snake’s blood showers the ground, poisoning all that it touches. Basilisk venom splatters on the ground, actually causing small fires. This has an instant effect, as it causes the blind tunnel demon to writh and shy away from the light. The basilisk suddenly has a chance. While these two titanic monstrosities fight it out, Voldemort and Flagg are battle tooth and tooth. Hexes and curses fly and the result of their battle carves a giant scar across the forbidden forest. Rocks are ground to dust, trees splinter into a trillion parts and the force of colliding spells causes mini black holes to form and this shreds the fabric of time and space. It’s narcissistic murdering psycho versus bloodthirsty sociopathic funny man. Only one will walk away. Sparks fly and steel clashes. Both Voldemort and Flagg have conjured up their own swords and are now duelling in the air, on land and everywhere in-between. Two blades forged of dark magic clash against one another. Two identical figures, only their facial expressions set them apart. Tom’s face is alight with pure fury; he’s the top dog defending his throne. Flagg’s face is alight with glee. For him this is better than sex; no one lives forever so he may as well do as much damage as he can before he goes out. He longs only to spill blood, even the blood of the forces of chaos and darkness. Flagg is able to get a lucky strike in. With one misstep on Voldemort’s part, the Elder Wand is sliced in half. Voldemort howls in horror; for he’s always loved material possessions in a way that he’s never loved people. Flagg screams in glee; for he loves nothing better than to smash something that’s precious and/or beautiful. Pushing in for the final deathblow, Voldemort takes the sword on both hands. The sword turns red hot and melts. From the molten slag of the sword comes a wave of fiendfyre which profligates and burns everything. The fiendfyre burns hotter than napalm and transforms the forest into hell on earth. Smoke chokes the atmosphere and the great basilisk and tunnel demon are burnt to a crisp. As he holds the fire in his hands, Voldemort’s eyes bulge out. The blood vessels in his eyes rupture and he bites his lip hard enough to draw blood. He walks from out of the fire. It neither burns him nor inconveniences him. All that he is missing is a pale horse, for he is death. Randall Flagg, the man of a million names and no name at all strikes resplendent in his cowboy boot and denim glory. His eyes are pitch black, like holes cut into a mask. They suck in all light and energy. His ragged, sucking breaths are the same as a dementor; sucking out all life, light and happiness from the world. Randall says nothing; instead, he just raises his hands as if to say, “Is that all you got?” Voldemort feels fear, he feels anger, he feels hate. He will destroy this vermin; it’ll be as satisfying as flushing the toilet. “THIS IS MY WORLD!!!” Voldemort screams not only to Flagg but to every single living soul on this desolate, shitty planet called earth. “MY WORLD!!!!!” And in that moment of foaming at the mouth, unadulterated, stinking bestial rage; Lord Voldemort sees something that strikes terror into the very heart of his being. There riding through the flames is the last tarot card: death. It is a knight in black armor. No shiny plate for him; it’s all clad in clinking chain mail and worn leather. The visor of his helmet is lifted, revealing a skull. Though it has no eyes, it looks directly at Tom Marvolo Riddle, last of the house of Slytherin. The figure on the white horse raises its wand and with that, Lord Voldemort begs for his life. “I don’t want to die!” he pleads. “Avada Kedavera.” Says Death dispassionately. There is a flash of green light . . . It’s over.

The fire dies, the body falls to the ground it’s done. Do not pity the dead, pity the living.

Epilogue:

Flagg stands triumphant. After transfiguring himself to look exactly like good old Lord Voldie nobody suspects a thing. He has stolen the throne from Voldemort, the Dark Lord; and if little Harry Potter thinks that old snakeskin was bad, wait until they get a load of old Randall. Still, Flagg really ought to thank Harry. For it was Flagg who pulled Harry’s strings, allowing him to destroy the horcruxes undetected; doing Randall’s dirty work. Yet in the middle of his greatest triumph, Flagg feels a cold feeling take him. It’s a horrible feeling and one that he’s only too familiar with. His master is calling him. Not the Crimson King, nor John Farson nor Emperor Mengsk. His real master is calling. His master is the forgotten chaos God, the outcast god. Few know his master’s real name. Some call him the Dark Voice, some call him Malal. Even the four chaos gods do not know his true name and identity. He is feared by even the most wicked, the most depraved and the least sane; and Randall Flagg is definitely afraid of his master. For the bonds are rarely forged voluntarily on the servant’s part and are impossible to break. He was drawn to Flagg by his indiscriminate and chaotically destructive nature. Flagg feels the same fear that gripped Voldemort when he saw Death. Tony Jay has got work for him to do.

Somewhere in the 40K Universe

“Raah! Warboss!” the green skinned Ork soldier bellows at said warboss. “There’s a humie in our camp and e’s killed about two ‘undred of us.” “What!” shouts Warboss Grimskull, in a crude cockney accent, “Gett outta my way, you useless slag!” The great big Ork boss charges down to the middle of the Ork base camp, where a figure stands atop an incinerated heap of ork corpses. Flagg steps down from the heap to greet the Warboss; he’s now assumed his Samir Duran form. “Greetings, Warboss Grimskull.” “Waaagh! Whaddya want?” Grimskull is not one for conversation. “Simply,” says Duran, “I could like to pay you five hundred euros to attack the Zerg Swarm.” Five ‘undred euros?” Girmskull waves a giant mechanical claw at Duran, “You won’t see penny one from me, you slag!” “No, you fucking idiot,” Duran insists, “I will be paying you, not the other way around.” Grimskull is at a loss, nobody’s ever paid him for anything before. “Uhhhh . . . . can I get some Cheetos?” Duran waves hand and a bowl of Cheetos magically appears, “As you wish.” Grimskull stares stupidly at Duran. “Right, the Zerg . . . . WAAAAGH!!!” He turns around and starts running . . . somewhere. He didn’t even take the Cheetos with him. Duran just groans. With any luck, these stupid orks will do their job.

RANDALL FLAGG WINS!!!!

Fatality!

Stats:

Voldemort:467 kills Defensive-expillarmus and aqua scutum: 0 kills Offensive-Avadera Kedavera: 99 kills Crucio: 0 kills fiendfyre: 180 kills Special powers-parsel tongue: 55 kills apparating: 0 kills Animal companions-Nagini: 35 kills Basilisk:100 kills

Randall Flagg: 533 kills Defensive-Necromancy: 173 kills illusion casting: 0 kills Offensive-Deadly Tarot cards: 150 kills transfiguration:40 kills Controlled lightning:25 kills Special Powers- shape shifting: 22 dimensional travel : 44 kills Animal companions-wolves:29 kills tunnel demon: 150 kills

Geoff Desmoulins appears before the camera. “While Voldemort took the edge in offensive spells, for Flagg, every single spell in his arsenal was in some way offensive.”

Armand appears next. “The power of necromancy factored heavily into Flagg’s favor; a loyal army with no sense of self preservation. Also, the fact that his defenses were actually lethal was a big help to him.”

Professor Snape shows up next. “I’m not the least bit disappointed,” he admits. “I’m glad beyond measure that the Dark Lord is dead, both in real life and on this show.”

Bellatrix does not share his sentiments. Instead of talking about her frustration, she moans and shrieks like a banshee, while using her wand to blow up shit that is very expensive. Then like the idiot he is, Stephen King decides to taunt Bellatrix. “Hey skank, who’s the greatest wizard of all time now?” He crosses his arms and adjusts his glasses. Shrieking like a wild wounded animal, Bellatrix throws a spell on Stephen King. He screams as his body and soul are sucked into a nearby DVD copy of Braking Dawn of the Twilight series.

The camera pans around to show Roland heading for the exit. “I am leaving. There is too much madness on this show.” He turns around briefly, “Are you coming, Severus?” “Coming, Roland,” replies Snape. And the two head out to grab some burgers.

Announcer: And that wraps up this show with the Death of Voldemort. Tune in next week as two Cartoon Icons duke it out! Mickey Mouse vs Peter Griffin!

That’s all folks. And do you know what the worst part of it was? in the simulation nI forgot to put in Flagg’s dimensional travel and his illusion casting. Believe me, these both happen in the media he’s in. That said, I think that my testing was solid and my results made sense. If anything, I hope the fight seemed legitimate. If you disagree at all please don’t hesitate to call me out on it. Also I’m still taking requests.

Also the scene with Grimskull and Samir Duran is a nod to my friend Deadliestfan, who on his blog posted an Alex Mercer versus Sarah Kerrigan match which is badass. It’s better than my work. Check it out.

Love you all :D

Ta

Master of the Boot