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Pardon me while I do something completely ridiculous for a moment...

What happens when a friend and I start roleplaying a crossover between Catscratch, Super Smash Brothers Brawl, and her own series? Well, fun! If Amalockh can do Catscratch/video game crossovers, so can I! So, enjoy this silly diversion, which should at the very least be slightly less silly than “Jeopardy” and “You’re a Mean One, Mr. Blik”. Yay plot! All Nintendo, Sega, and Konami characters copyright their respective owners. Catscratch characters are copyright Doug Tennapel and Nickelodeon. Kyoto belongs to my buddy Amy. I OWN NOTHING
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WELCOME TO THE ARENA</i></u>

Challenge: “Game”

Timeline: After “Strays”, before “Daddy Blik”

Required Reading: None

“I’m BORED,” Waffle whined, sprawled out on the living room rug. “I’m bored and it’s hot and there’s nothing to DO.”

It was a Sunday morning in the blazing heat of summer, rife with the usual lethargy such days tend to induce. The Cramdilly brothers were of no exception to this; both Waffle and Blik sat in their living room, doing nothing of remote interest to themselves or anyone else.

“Shutting up is an option,” Blik snarked. “How about you shut your trap and allow me to read my paper in PEACE?” He settled back into the cushy chair in the living room and turned the page of his newspaper with a crackling sound. “There’s an idea, by the way... maybe if you educated yourself on what’s going on in the world...”

“Reading’s no fun,” Waffle said, not moving an inch. “I’d just be MORE bored.”

“Blik’s right, though, laddie...” Gordon said, walking into the room from the kitchen. He set his mug on a coaster on the table (it was steaming, but whatever it contained is likely better off unknown), picked up his own paper from the table, and situated himself in the chair. “You can find some very interesting things inside a newspaper.”

“And bad stuff,” Waffle pointed out. “Robberies and murders and stuff. That’s just scary. I don’t wanna read it!”

“You’ll have to leave the fantasy world some day,” Blik told his brother. “The world’s not all candy and fluff. Maybe your BRAIN is, but...”

“Well, here’s a harmless page,” Gordon said, peeling one from the rest of the paper and tossing it towards Waffle. “It’s just ads. Maybe you could find us something to do?”

Waffle reached up, caught the paper, and started skimming over it. “I know! Why don’t we go see a movie?”

“I’ll tell you why not - because they won’t let us IN. I told you the popcorn machine wouldn’t make a good home for your newts, I told you! But what do you go and do?” Blik snapped, lowering his paper.

“But they love popcorn!” Waffle protested. “And they seemed to like it in there!”

“Until someone turned the machine on, they went hopping up and down, and then someone actually LOOKED in there to see what was making that infernal squeaking! You got us banned from every theater in Bakersfield for that one! For LIFE!”

“All right, all right, calm down,” Gordon said. “It’s really too late to do anything about that now, it was months ago...”

“We can just pirate everything anyway,” Blik rationalized, once again propping up his paper and intending to completely ignore his brother.

“So I’ll look for something else...” Waffle said, going back to reading. “Zoo?”

“Banned,” Blik replied. “You’re not supposed to jump fences, Waffle, and I really doubt that the kangaroo wanted to give you a ride.”

“Oh yeah...” Waffle said with a frown and then continued looking. “There’s an aquarium nearby, I don’t think I did anything bad at the aquarium, did I?”

“Not that I can think of,” Blik said.

“SPLEE!” Waffle jumped up excitedly. “Then we can go to the aquarium! We can see the fish and the sharks and the sea monkeys and the-”

“Ah, not exactly,” Gordon spoke up, slightly embarrassed. “I was there a few weeks ago, when they were having that lobster exhibit, and I kind of lost control...”

“He tried STEALING them,” Blik said with disgust. “Pig.”

“Klaus and Rhonda would be ashamed of you, Gordon,” Waffle scolded. “You promised you wouldn’t do that!”

“I was hungry! Waffle, you know I can’t last very long in an aquarium without getting hungry...”

“OK, something else,” Waffle said, ignoring his anger at Gordon for breaking his promise. “Something new! Something that hasn’t thrown us out yet!” He once again returned to the paper.

“Gordon?” he asked after a moment of silence. “What’s a turn-knee?”

“Oh, a tournament! People coming from all over to do battle for prizes and glory!” Gordon answered wistfully. “I’ve never been to one, but I can only imagine, strangers coming together and bonding over a nice, sporting duel... why do you ask, Waffle?”

“They’re having one today down at the stadium,” Waffle said, holding up the paper to show his brothers.

“Let me see that,” Blik said, flipping through his own newspaper, looking for the page. “ ‘9th Annual Super Smash Brothers Tourney’,” he read aloud. “ ‘Meet both old champions and new hopefuls. Open to the public. Tickets sold at the door, $20 per person. Snacks extra.’” Blik scoffed. “So you’re suggesting we go watch people kick the snot out of each other for twenty bucks a pop?”

“Sure!” Waffle chimed in excitedly, missing the sarcasm. “What about you, Gordon? You said you always wanted to see one of these, didn’t you?”

Gordon didn’t respond immediately. Instead, his eyes widened and his mouth slowly turned up into a giant grin.

“Er... Gor?” Waffle asked, slightly worried. “Gordon?” He waved his paw in his brother’s face, his own brow furrowed. “Say something!”

“Just take it as a yes,” Blik grumbled. “As for me, I'm staying. You guys go have your fun.”

“But... but Mr. Blik!” Waffle protested. “I thought you were bored, too!”

“I am, but if I go I'll be bored and short twenty bucks. I'm not going,” he insisted, holding his paper up in front of his face. After a few seconds of silence, he resumed reading an article about a bridge they were building in a neighboring city. Nothing that really mattered to him, but if reading it worked at making him look busy and therefore making Waffle shut up, he was more than willing to tough it out. Of course, Waffle wasn't going to give up that easily; but did it hurt to hope so?

“'It is thought that making transportation easier will-'” Blik read to himself, but was cut off by Waffle pulling half the paper down and staring him in the eye, not saying a word. Blik did not speak for a few seconds.

“You're going to just sit there until I agree, aren't you,” Blik said dryly, without the inflection of a question.

Waffle nodded in silence, grinning stupidly.

“And no amount of yelling and insulting you is going to change your mind.”

Waffle shook his head, still not speaking.

“And you don't care that if I agree to go to this stupid thing, I'll probably grow bored in mere minutes, counting the gravel on the ground in a desperate attempt at entertaining myself. You'll just keep sitting there and you won't get out of my face until I say 'yes, I'm going'.”

Another wordless nod.

“Very well,” Blik sighed in defeat, tearing the address of the stadium out from the ad. “HOVIS!” he called, folding his paper and putting it on the table. “Hovis, we’re going out! Straighten up the living room while we’re gone! Just don’t throw out the newspaper!” Without even checking if Hovis had heard him, Blik hopped out of his chair and started towards the door. “C’mon, guys. I’m driving.”
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“Geez it’s bright... we’re not even going to be able to see the show, are we? Not that I WANT to, but... this just makes this whole outing even more pointless...”

Blik stepped out of the house with his hand on his forehead in an attempt to shield himself from the sun. Waffle immediately wilted under the heat; it may have been hot in the house, but at least there were fans in every room.

“Need... root beer...” Waffle wheezed, making his way back through the door. “I’ll be... back...”

“Would you grab one for me as well?” Gordon asked.

“One? Waffle, just fill the cooler!” Blik commanded. “I’m not sitting under the hot sun watching people hit each other without a steady supply of root beer! Get on it! And Gordon, you go help.”

“But why - “ Gordon raised a finger in protest, but was swiftly silenced.

“Don’t ask why, just GO.” Blik pointed towards the door to further make his point. “I’ll start the car while you’re in there. Take your time and maybe by the time you come out Gear’s AC will have done its job.”

Knowing better than to question Blik in instances like this, Gordon followed Waffle into the house in order to get some drinks for the trip.

“And now that they’re gone...” Blik chuckled to himself as he looked towards his neighbor’s house. He stood up straight, brushed at his fur, and proudly marched down his walkway and up hers. His eyes were closed due to a belief that it made him look more dignified; he had this path memorized anyway. There was no need to see where he was going. After making it to the door, he took a final moment to clean up; flattened a few more patches of fur, including licking his paw and slicking back the fur on his head; and then lifted his fist and motioned to knock on the door...

...and proceeded to knock on thin air.

“Hey there, Blik,” Katilda answered. She leaned against the door frame with her arms crossed, smirking to herself. “All that flair wasn’t necessary, you know.”

“Hey. So, er... so you saw all that.” Blik muttered, deflated.

“Sure did,” Katilda answered, her smirk growing wider. “I came out when I heard you screaming at Gordon and Waffle and I've been standing here all this time. You should pay more attention, Blik.”

“Er... yeah.” Blik said quietly, hanging his head in embarrassment.

“So what brings you over here this fine morning?” Katilda asked, not entirely serious.

“What, a guy can't come over and see his mate just because?”

“He can. Thing is, you usually DON'T.”

“Oh, hush,” Blik grumbled again. “This really isn't going how I hoped... look. Katilda. I came over because Gordon and Waffle are dragging me out somewhere. I figured it'd be a lot less boring if you came along. We could make a date of it... what do you say?”

“So you admit you DID want something?” Katilda replied, her grin growing even wider.

“Is that a yes or a no?” Blik asked bluntly, his arms folded and his foot tapping.

“You know I'd love to go with you, Blik...”

Blik beamed with pride.

“...because everywhere you go something completely ridiculous but awesome happens...”

His expression immediately fell.

“Oh, don't look at me like that, I'm KIDDING! I thought you knew me by now! I'd love going anywhere with you because you're, well, YOU. But I can't. I already have a ticket for a show today.”

“What, and you didn't invite me?” Blik pouted.

“Well, I didn't think you'd like this sort of thing,” Katilda said. “I'm going to go see a fight. Some thing called Super Smash Bros. All KINDS of warriors and paranormal and mythical creatures, coming together to destroy each other, in a friendly way, of course... that's MY place, but I understand it's not really yours.”

“Funny thing about that,” Blik said. “That's where Gordon and Waffle are dragging me. But answer me this; why oh WHY is watching people fight so appealing?”

“It just is,” Katilda shrugged. “Though I was hoping to... hold on, where's my...” Katilda said, trailing off. She looked on both sides of the door frame in the house. “I thought I... be right back,” she said, going into the house and slamming the door.

“Where are you going?” Blik called. “What are you-”

“Just a second!” Katilda called back. “I'm just looking for my- ah, here it is, I found it!” she continued. The door opened wide and she stepped out again.

“...what is that?” Blik asked.

“It's a sword, stupid!” Katilda shot back happily, holding it out in a battle pose.

“Well, yeah, I can see that. But why do you even need it? We're watching a fight, not having one!”

“Says you,” she said, sticking the point into the ground and leaning on it. “Maybe if I act cute enough they'll let me play, too... and if I'm going to fight, I'll need a weapon!”

“Katilda, it's made of WOOD!” Blik snapped. “Don't you at least have a real one? You did that day we met... come to think of it, I think that belonged to US at one point...”

“I dropped it in the forest that same day,” she explained. “It was go back and get it or save you from getting turned into wood chips.”

“And I'm quite content with your decision on that matter, believe me,” Blik said, inwardly shuddering at the thought. “But what can you do with a wooden sword?”

“More than I can do unarmed,” Katilda said. “And this is assuming they let me do it anyway.”

“I kind of hope they don't...” Blik said quietly, not admitting to the million and one horrible scenarios running through his mind, each and every one involving Katilda and some sort of giant monster.

“And I kind of hope they DO,” Katilda said. “And that's the end of that. So, we're taking the truck, then?”

“Yeah,” Blik answered. “We're just waiting for Waffle and Gordon to load Gear up, and then-”

“It's kind of stupid to name a truck,” Katilda pointed out. “But it'll get us there, so who cares? Let's go!” she cried triumphantly and then ran towards the Cramdilly garage, not allowing Blik to finish his explanation. Instead, he sighed and slumped forward.

“WHY do I love her, again...?” he asked himself, but gave him a mental shake. “Who knows, maybe a day out with her will remind me of that...” After assuring himself of this, he followed her off to the garage. He could already see Katilda standing inside leaning against one of Gear's tires by the time he passed his front door; it was that moment that it chose to swing open. The brothers had indeed loaded the cooler, perhaps a bit too much. Gordon was pushing at it from one side as Waffle pulled the handle on the other. Even with their combined effort, it was still a slow job.

“Oh... hey... Blik...” Gordon wheezed. “So... did you... start... the car... yet? I need... AIR...”

“Ah... no,” Blik admitted. “There was something else I wanted to do first, took a bit longer than I expected...”

“What were you- GORDON, THIS IS HEAVY!” Waffle said sobbing, completely forgetting his question. Letting go of the handle, he dropped to his knees and began panting. “It's hot and this thing's HEAVY,” he complained again.

“You guys need some help over there?” Katilda called. She moved away from the truck, instead choosing to lean forward on her sword, pushing the point against the concrete on the garage floor.

“Oh, could you, lass?” Gordon asked, too distracted to question why she was even there. After letting the sword clatter to the ground by Gear's rear tire, Katilda walked over, grabbed the handle that Waffle had dropped, and resumed what he had quit.

“Thanks...” Waffle said, still panting. He stood up long enough to open the cooler as it was being pushed, pull out one of the many bottles of root beer, and shut it, sitting back in the grass as soon as he had what he wanted.

“So... why're ya here, Katilda?” Waffle asked, struggling with the cap of the root beer.

“Well, SOMEONE invited me along to your little trip,” Katilda answered, dragging the cooler with little effort as Gordon shoved it along. “You guys mind?”

“Mmm-mmm.” Waffle had resorted to chewing the cap off, leaving him unable to answer in words.

“Well, you SHOULDN'T,” Blik answered. “If I have to be dragged along to this stupid thing, then fine, but I'm enjoying myself too.”

“Doesn't come... as much... of a surprise...” Gordon said. “I can't push this thing. Blik, a wee bit of help, if you please?”

Without a word, Blik walked over to the cooler, extracted a root beer from it, and slammed it shut.

“He said help!” Katilda said, staring incredulously; but then, were Blik's actions such a surprise?

“I did help. I made it lighter, didn't I?”

“Oooh, then I helped too!” Waffle chimed in, still having yet to get the cap off of his beverage. “Blik, could you go in and get the bottle opener?”

“Do you guys want me to start the car or not?” Blik snapped. “Gordon, Katilda, Waffle, you three get the cooler up into the truck. I'll get it started.”

“Like you promised earlier,” Gordon reminded Blik. Still holding his root beer bottle, Waffle slowly dragged himself over to his brother and Katilda, stopping every so often to have an exaggerated panting fit before moving on.

“Oh, cut it out, Waffle, it's not THAT hot!”

“Yes... yes it is...” Waffle whined. “'specially since I can't get my drink open...”

“Just get the stupid cooler in the truck,” Blik snapped. “You can worry about the root beer later. If we have to go to this thing, then let's GO already!” He climbed his way up the tires and into Gear and settled himself into the driver's seat. “Waffle!” he called down from his high perch. “If you're going to keep complaining about the cooler, then I'll give you something else to do! Keys!”

“Why didn't you grab them before getting in?” Waffle yelled back, louder than necessary.

“Does it matter? I told you to do something and you'll do it!”

“Fine...” Waffle said, dragging himself over to the garage desk to search for the car's key.

“Gordon! Katilda!” Blik continued barking orders. “You two lift the cooler up so I can pull it into the truck! Waffle, you help once you have the key!” Gordon and Katilda nodded, not in much of a mood to argue anymore.

“Got it!” Waffle called, holding up the key ring and shaking it a little.

“Well, come on, give it here!” Blik shouted. Waffle threw it towards him and went off to lift the cooler. Blik caught the key with ease, jammed it into the ignition, and beamed happily at the hum of the engine.

“I think... my back... is going out...” Gordon wheezed, pushing the cooler up. Even with Katilda's and Waffle's help, it was no easy task.

“Come on, come ON, just a little further!” Blik reached out over the side of Gear, to the point that any movement could have caused him to topple out. He luckily avoided this occurrence, grabbed one of the handles in both paws, and with a swift tug, brought the cooler flying into the front seat.

“Shotgun!” Waffle called happily, springing up and landing in the front seat of the truck between Blik and the cooler, still holding his closed soda.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, who said I want to sit next to you? Back,” Blik insisted, pointing his thumb towards the rear seat.

“Aw, how come?” Waffle whined. “I never get to sit in the front!”

“Therefore, nothing's changed. BACK!” With a noise of complaint, Waffle climbed over the front bench and landed with a thump in his place.

“Now what'd you go and do that for?” Gordon asked, also settling into the back seat.

“Because I want Katilda up here!” Blik said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“No surprise there...” Katilda chuckled as she took her own place in the truck and placed her sword on the floor.

“Everyone settled? Then off we go!” Without waiting for an answer, Blik put Gear in reverse and rocketed out of the garage.
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“Are we there yet?”

“No, Waffle.”

“OK. ...now?”

“NO.”

“How about now?”

“NO!”

“...now are we-”

“WAFFLE, I SWEAR, IF YOU DON'T STOP TALKING I AM GOING TO COME BACK THERE AND SHOVE YOU INTO THE STREET!” Blik shouted, taking his eyes off the road to glare at his brother.

“Eyes on the road, Blik, eyes on the road!” Gordon said. Blik rolled his eyes and resumed staring. The truck's passengers resumed sitting in silence, the only sound emitting from the radio.

“What the heck are we even listening to, anyway?” Blik asked, glaring at the radio which was currently playing an obnoxious pop song.

“CD I made myself!” Waffle announced with pride. “Put a bunch of songs I like on it! I left it in the player last time we were in the truck, remember?”

“Wish I could FORGET,” Blik snapped.

“I dunno... I kinda like it,” Katilda said. “It's cute.”

“Yeah. Cute. Exactly. Which is why I wish I could FORGET.”

“Well, the stadium's just a block or two away at this point...” Gordon rationalized. “A couple more minutes can not hurt.”

“Oh, trust me, Gordo. It HURTS.”

“Oooh, oooh, I have an idea!” Waffle said. “How about I sing until we get there!”

“WAFFLE! NO! DON'T YOU DARE!” Blik shouted, but Waffle obviously had no intention of listening.

“Last night, I saw you cryin', and in the mornin', you still feel blue!” he sang happily, oblivious to his Blik's ear twitching and his teeth gritting. “But losers, they give up tryin', so wipe that tear – Blik, don't!” Waffle interrupted himself as Blik reached over to take out the CD.

“Come ON, Waffle, we're about to turn into the parking lot anyway! I can't take another second of this!”

“Just leave it on until we park!” Waffle begged, reaching forward to pull Blik's paw away.

“Lad, sit back down! That's dangerous!” Gordon warned, trying to pull Waffle into his seat. He fought against Gordon, desperate to keep his control of the radio.

“Stop being a moron for FIVE SECONDS, Waffle! It's just a stupid song! You can take it into the house when we're done here and listen to it FAR AWAY FROM ME!”

“But I want to listen to it NOW!” Waffle said to his brother. “At least until we park!”

“NO! I'M TURNING IT OFF!”

“BLIK! WATCH OUT!” Katilda cried. “IF YOU DON'T PAY ATTENTION YOU'RE GONNA HIT-”

Too late. Blik pulled his paw off of the accelerator, but the damage had already been done. The cats couldn't see just who they had hit, but they heard the thump and the pained yelp.

“Now look what you made me do!” Blik snapped at Waffle.

“But you're the one who-” Waffle began to defend himself.

“Both of you, quiet!” Gordon said. “Now isn't the time for arguing. Come on, let's see if whoever we've hit is all right...” He unbuckled his seat belt and hopped out of the truck; Waffle and Katilda followed. Blik, however, kept his seat at the wheel. He turned the volume on the radio all the way down and sat back, really not caring about what was happening below.

“It's a dog...” Katilda observed. Indeed, a large, black-furred dog was lying motionless in front of Gear's front left tire. Between his size, pointed ears, and shaggy fur, he slightly resembled a wolf.

“Oh. No reason to bother ourselves with it, then. Did I kill it?” Blik asked, the faintest hint of hope in his voice.

“BLIK!” Gordon scolded. “Dog or not, of course we have to see if he's all right!”

“I think he's breathing,” Waffle said, leaning over the dog. “Hello?” he asked, softly poking the animal's back. “Hello? You all right?”

The dog's nose began twitching as if it had picked up a scent. “Cat...” it muttered quietly.

“Yes... yes, we're cats... are you OK, Mr. Dog? Or Ms.? Or Mrs.? Or whatever you are?”

“Cat...” the dog said a little louder, his voice finally revealing his gender. “Cat... LUNCH!” he cried, suddenly springing up and pouncing toward Waffle. If not for the reflexes he'd gained from all of the other dangerous encounters he'd had in his life (not to mention the continuous stream of sugar-high energy he always had), Waffle never would have dodged it. The dog skidded across the concrete on all fours, his claws making a scraping noise as he went.

“Speedy little meal, aren't you?” the dog growled, grinning wickedly. “But don't worry, soon I'll get you and your friends and I'll-”

“All right, all right, that's enough,” Gordon said in his Highland Warrior tone, then returned to normal for introductions. “Are ye all right, laddie? My brother is terribly sorry for running in to you like that...”

“Of course I'm not! It's a dog!” Blik shouted down. “And why are you talking to it so kindly, anyway? It just threatened to KILL us!”

“Well, maybe if we apologize he'll have no reason to be angry with us...”

“Oh, I'm not angry,” the dog assured. “Just hungry. Now if you would all sit still..”

“I don't think so,” Katilda said, waving her sword. “I think we could all take you. Don't you guys agree?”

“You're going to fight me with a STICK?” the dog laughed. “Wow. Pathetic. These cats think they can beat me. HILARIOUS.” Despite his assertion that the situation was indeed comedic, he wasn't smiling. He stood up on to his hind legs, reaching a height about a head taller than Katilda, and brushed himself off. “Congratulations, you guys just killed my appetite. You get to live. For now. But watch your back, because you never do know...” With that final threat, the dog turned and started to head toward the stadium. Waffle watched as he left.

“Think he's one of the fighters...?” Waffle asked, slightly worried.

“Katilda, you're NOT going to even try fighting,” Blik said. “Not against THAT thing.”

“Oh, stop worrying!” Katilda said. “There's no saying he has anything to do with this. In fact, if he's NOT a fighter, then it's the people in the stands who have to worry about him! I'll be the safe one!”

“Either way, for all we know, we'll never see him again. No use panicking about it,” Gordon said. “Come on, let's park Gear, get ourselves in the stadium, and enjoy ourselves a show!”

Katilda, Waffle, and Gordon all let out an excited, triumphant cheer. Blik grumbled in annoyance.
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I know I normally don't put notes at the end of a chapter, but this note really wouldn't have fit at the start, you'd have been confused – the song Waffle starts belting is “Say Cheese (Smile Please)” by Fast Food Rockers. Yes, that is a terribly silly name, but they're a terribly silly band, just the sort of thing I'd imagine Waffle would enjoy, and “Say Cheese” is so optimistic and happy that it's taken residence in my brain as a theme for Waffle. And so there. ...I do kind of like Fast Food Rockers when I'm in a silly mood. Ahem.

Also, random observation – this is my first chaptered fic in a little over a year. Wow. I forgot how much I missed writing these things.
...new fic yay?

Seriously, I don't know WHAT to say. Other than that this is likely to be one of my more... INTERESTING projects. For better or for worse.
:iconcatscratchfan4000:
CatscratchFan4000 Featured By Owner Dec 1, 2008
nice story,keep em commin irky
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