"Man, this is all getting to be too much," complained Rex. "I need some soft serve."
"From where exactly?" wondered the nerd, back in focus.
"That machine," the frog king pointed out. "It's been following us."
"Since page two?" Ignoring the flaw to common sense, the blue clad vagrant went to the creamy treat dispenser to select a flavor. Passing over the boring vanilla and chocolate, he came upon their amalgam.
"Mmm, twist is god," drooled the amphibi-man. The other nodded in contemplation.
"It is god," the student agreed. "God from out the machine?!" His realization came too late. With dramatic slowness, he sluggishly ran to the ice milk injector to stop the process, but it was too late. The lever crashed down with deafening volume against a silent backdrop as an almighty force was released from within.
"Oh, it really was just ice cream," he announced in crushed hope.
"Well, yeah," the cyan skinned Rumbler shrugged. "What were you expecting?"
"I don't know," the bespeckled one meekly admitted. "Some sorta big, cheap, cop-out to allow this extended tale to finally be laid to rest."
"Why would we need that? We're already at the Deli Dale. So is everyone else, and there's the Merry Cherry Ferry, which they're boarding."
"Really? Huh." Syrian was flabbergasted. "When did all that come about?"
"When you spent forever doing that slow motion run over here," informed the frog man. "What was with that?"
"Drama, suspense," Hadoleo mustered excuses, "stupidity."
"Good enough for me," the toad tyrant passed off. Chomping down on the remainder of his cone, he shoved down his opponent as he galloped off to gain lead on at least one foe, laughing maniacally until his terrible brain freeze left him writhing on the ground. All were there for the final sprint to the end: Rumblers, Lolirs, and some stupid side characters that were better off forgott-
The nog doth flowed that night, and many thoughts perished in the tide. Few could recalleth the events from that tremendous moment, and what scraps wert pieced heldeth questionable truth. From the lies and boasts, no token served as proof of whom left the Deli Dale a victor of the Rumblo, so only word served to lay claim. Beholdeth now the tales of the End of Ends...
The motley crew quarreled over places on the boat, knocking out refuse, life preservers, and Motley Crue to make space for themselves. Seeking to up their chances of successfully completing the Rumblo on their own, all schemes to underhand and injure their opponents were cut short as the attendant of the ferry ride, scarily enough Kodiro in a short cut dress, laid down the ground rules.
"Hey, sis," shouted the rhinestone Rumbler to his sibling.
"It's disgusting!" declared Hadoleo as the wizard of faux pas was speaking to a mirror's reflection. If that was not enough to make them behave, there was to be no getting out of their seats, sticking arms out of the vehicle, or consumption of snacks while the ride was taking place. They all behaved since none of them wanted the boat turned right around right now, and s/he meant it, too. Once the fruit shaped barge docked on the shore of their final destination, each of the Rumblers were quick to act.
"Finally," whined the blue clad vagrant, "I thought we'd never get here." Immediately, the tops of tiny bags of cookies and chips were torn off as the miniature junk foods were consumed and washed down with equally tiny juice boxes. Satiably recharged, the invigorated bunch spilled out of the float, with the exception of giant veteran who only broke his legs through the brittle floor and wore the vessel around his waist. Great envy sparked from the still dress adorn Kodiro. At the center of the sandy banks of grit covered hot dogs, the scourge of the beach, atop a stack of thin sliced salami, shone their prize: a decorative arrangement of pig's feet and bacon! Oh, and that Lengendairy thing or whatever was on top that, too, or something. But, check out those hog hooves. Mm! At long last, the goal of their struggles was within reach. In a defiant bound, they all stretch out for it, praying to be the first to reach its cheddary goodness-
"Mine." The treasure taken from before their very eyes, the Rumblers fell face first into the wiener ground below, some enjoying more than others. Here's looking at you, Kodiro!
"Hey, what gives?" griped the fiend. "Ya ain't paht o' dis story!"
"Foolish Mortals!" defied the distantly familiar calling aloft in the air, lifted by its membranous wings. "I, the immortal spirit of the Cheesemental, infused within this feline figure of the Tarius, supplemented with... that... rat guy? What was his deal anyway?" The audience shrugged and replied with equally confused mummers. "I mean, he just sorta came from no where. 'Oh, look at me, I'm a rat guy. Get it? Cheese, rat? It's hilarious.' Yeah, I know what was funny: when I ate him. Who didn't see that one coming? Rat eats cheese, cat eats rat. I'm surprised this pussy wasn't ate out by some guy named Fido or the McDykster. Huh? Huh?" Feedback rang through the microphone the past figure had somehow acquired as each individual cough could be heard in the silence returned to him. "Eee, tough crowd. ... Oh, right, my speech. I was giving that." Clearing his throat, he continued his original statement, awkwardly and finally. "I... have returned, that... guy that I said I was earlier," he reminded, barely, those who had forgotten or lost interest, "to claim the second Legendairy from you pitiful scum!"
"Hey!" protested the nerd, "I'm not scum!"
"Hey!" simultaneously retorted the frog king, "I'm not pitiful!"
"Hey! ... ya're mean," sniffed the lunatic.
"Foolish Mortals! Now, with possession of two Lengendary Dairies," the embodiment of Cheese's beheld power boomed, "I shall become more unstoppable!"
"But, if you were the guardian of the cheese to begin with," pointed out the resident geek from over the opened pages of his hefty guide book, "then shouldn't you have had their power all along?"
"... Legendairies," the Cheesemental called out with a mythical wheel in each hand, choosing to ignore the relevant information, "do your thing! ... -airies!" Interlocking the two cheeses, despite them lacking any indention or grooves for this to even happen, the bat-cat grew more monstrous in nature and several fold taller. Shrieking with an inhuman and unnatural call with a rigidly lowering mouth, the giant beast wobbled and flopped about as if it were made of cheap, B-movie grade, foam rubber. As per the Legendairies' thingairies, he was. In his furor, he dashed through the nearby cardboard cityscape, Boxburg, shattering the mock buildings and toy cars with a sparking destruction.
"Oh, yeah? Not if we have anythin' ta say 'bout it!" defied the maniac.
"What are you talking about?" queried a puzzled toad man. "Cheese taken, story done, me home, Asian teens downloaded."
"'Tis nevah ovah! Go, Rumblon Force!" Lifting a knee and raising one arm into the air, Bimblesnaff rocketed into the sky in a purple streak. He was followed in kind by the green band of the D-Knight, the pale strip of Syniarian, the pink line of Mai, the black ribbon of the Robe, the brown stream of the liar, the plaid ray of Ssssss, the rainbow spectrum of Kodiro, and others who followed suit. The amphibian was left alone on the isle. Lowering his head, Rex reluctantly raised a hand and unenthusiastically shot into the sky riding a blue stripe.
Crackling with evergy, the lot soared over a backdrop of speed lines as campy 80's music blasted in the background. The soaring bands of color all caught up to another and then scattered in a wide array. A commanding voice called them back into formation, one by one.
"Form feet and legs!" The maniac and falsely aged veteran soared into one another. Sweet Sawmill Sally and the lizard liar followed up from below and locked their shoulders to the above feet.
"Hey, check it out: I'm on top o' Sssssoooooooowwwwwwww," started to brag the lunatic before getting a groin full of saw blade. "She still touched it, folks. Evahyone saw it. It counts."
"Form arms and hands!" Mai and Hadoleo flew together with arms outstretched. Making contact with her hands, the nerdling passed out, forcing the crazed one to join with the Robe instead to make the limb. Syniarian's unconscious body was linked to the Rumbler formerly known as Jack Handy, who chomped onto the geek's head with his fanged mouth for connection.
"Form body and crotch!" The blue clad vagrant damned his pulled lot for position as he swung below the mage of fashion while the suave sorcerer did the same.
"Form ass!" The internal suppository oven made a surprise appearance, particularly surprising to the frog king, as it formed the area it had just departed from.
"Liver and spleen!" The spirit of Rumblo, Fluff McDuff, the crying rock, and others thought forgotten -- and wished not to -- returned to form lobes of the internal organs.
"Oh, now come on! This is just getting ridiculous," complained the amphibious monarch, who didn't find it funny when the organs entered the torso through him. "Yippidy Jimmidy! Me bum is getting more traffic than Kodiro's gets in an hour."
"I can't help it," defended the wardrobe wizard. "I have diarrhea." The toad tyrant further cried over his positioning.
"And I'll form the head!" The voice roared out from the distance as, flying in from the parting heavens ripped in a shiny, new, even cooler motorcycle in a burning streak of crimson.
"Oh, so that's where Gariland has been: waiting to make the most awesome entrance ever." He had succeeded. The bike folded in half as the tires rotated horizontal and flipped to their sides. A mantle worthy of holding onto the most awesome individual ever was created, and he took his throne.
Despite the unevenness and lopsided nature, a white flash changed the curved shapes into smooth, uniform sizes that actually seemed like they could fit together while completely disguising a man inside wearing the suit, which it was not.
"I'm a hand," stated left foot, demonstrating its inherited ability from its progenitor, which was much less spectacular than the right's buzz saw knee.
"I... can't feel anything," complained the left hand, an icy blue wolf head with a tool belt collar. "Damn kid is asleep. Screw this! Why was the passed out twerp the upper part? Now I can't do a thing."
"Oh, like you could before," simultaneously informed everyone. The worthless, bespeckled biceps was overwhelmingly preferred to whatever horror the handyman could produce, as determined by a randomly public sampling.
"Just be glad that I'm keepin' this joint ballin'!" insisted the stylish chest with its striped tuxedo and oversized gold medallion that clashed horribly with the mechanized head and shoulders.
"Gariland gotta keep his robo-locks dandruff free," informed the hair washing head.
"Was... that cool? I can't tell," questioned the spleen. "Is third person self address cool either?"
"He did it, so it is now," told the heart, portrayed by some guy, apparently?
"Quit your bickering, Rumblon, we got a monster to fight," ordered the quintet of tiny people within the combined forces. "Bat Cat Head is destroying Angel Gr- I mean, Boxburg."
"Actually, it's already destroyed," informed the fat one of five.
"Hey, what are we parodizing? Voltron or Power Rangers?" wondered Seven of Nine.
"This is just too much," leaked the crotch. "I don't know how much more of this crap I can take, especially with how Kodiro is making me feel knowing that Gariland is on top of him!"
"Zip your lips, you clankering bucket of non-metallic flesh parts," ordered the leader type within. "We attack, nooowww!" Charging forward in an uncoordinated, sloppy gait, the Rumbler fusion was crushed swiftly beneath the feline foot of the gigantic Cheesementaken catoid. When fully formed, they were only, what? Five men tall? That guy was huge, after all. So, yeah... They're dead.
If ye art wondering, nay, this tale headeths no where. I apologizeth for the waste of ye time. Sorry.