#planetgalactica

Writer:  @ma-tsu-the-male-goddess

Matsu coughs awkwardly into her microphone as the yelling Match 1 phighter is dragged away. 

“Alright kiddos, guess we’re moving on!” She signals the vibrating ghost assistants down in the arena to start setting up. They start launching cowboy hats into the crowd. Several smaller ghosts are crushed. Matsu eyes the chaos as she continues.

“First up is @phan-pheeking-tastic! She is rocking both suspenders and the largest cowboy hat I have ever seen! I think it’s actually evaporating under the stress of it’s own existence -- but aren’t we all?” There’s a pause as Matsu contemplates her own reality.

“And here is her opponent: @planetgalactica! Kitt has certainly got a wonderful space theme going on, but she honestly looks a bit like a space Technus. So. Sorry about that.“ Matsu wonders for a moment if she should turn on her filter before discarding the idea. They all know what they signed up for. 

“Now, Pheek has certainly been riling up the crowd! A performer if I’ve ever seen one!” Distant clown honks punctuate Matsu’s words. “Kitt looks like she’ll be the first one to make a move!” The humanoid ghost steps forward, water guns filled with a mysterious brown liquid, and a feral grin on her face. Pheek turns around slowly, showing off her clown makeup to the crowd, her voice is broadcast throughout the stadium. 

“Oh ho ho? You’re approaching me? You fool, you are already dead!” She throws back her head and cackles. Matsu is impressed, how is her hat staying on her head? Kitt growls loudly.

“That’s my reference!” She sprints madly at the rodeo clown, arms and guns flying out behind her in a technically perfect Naruto run. Matsu is already having fun.

“This is certainly shaping up to be an entertaining phight everybody! I, for one, am rooting for—” Matsu has to cut herself off. Pheek just collapsed out on the field. Everything goes silent. Kitt stops in her tracks.

Ghost medics are rushing out. One wearing neon clear socks looks up at the box and shakes his head solemnly. Matsu gulps and slams her head on the desk. Why do things like this happen to her? She sits up slowly, groaning internally, and taps Megalovania into the microphone to grab everyone’s attention. 

Writer: @ma-tsu-the-male-goddess

“Welcome back to round 2 ladies and ghents! Neither @planetgalactica or @bibliophilea got to show off their skills last round, so I’m sure our first opponents are ready to spill some ectoplasm!” Matsu was totally ready to get back into the swing of things. The ghosts below were violently T-posing, though nothing had happened beyond that yet. 

Bib made the first move, pulling out a staff from nowhere and spilling greek letters and arabic numbers out onto the field. Kitt immediately started backing up in horror, yanking her suspiciously brown-filled water guns from her hips. She wouldn’t be able to avoid those math problems for long...

“Phight me!” Bared teeth really made everyone scarier, didn’t it, even from behind from the creepy mask Bib was wearing. “Those bags under your eyes must hold *something* of use!” The sneer in her voice was extremely audible. Kitt stopped in her tracks and glared.

“Oh? You think you know me? Don’t make me laugh!” Kitt turns her water guns back on herself. “What you don’t know, is that you are already dead!” She squirts the guns straight into her wide open mouth. She begins to glow. Matsu is a little disturbed, actually, but she thinks she finally knows what was in those guns. 

“And here, pholks, we can see the true power of massive amounts coffee shoved into somebody’s face. I really wouldn’t wanna be down there, between the math and the caffeine high.” Kitt spins faster and faster until a mini-tornado appears in the ring. A voice rings out,

“You can’t make me do math! It’s impossible!” It certainly seems that way; no regular ghost could get through that storm. But Bib is no regular ghost. She tears off her stupid-looking packman-ghost mask and lets out a ghostly wail of anguish - the kind that can only come from math class - and Kitt flies back into the wall of the ring. There’s no getting up from that kind of Big Sad.