Issue 24: Tournament of Villainy
By Rascal Stallion

Spike vs Sideshow Bob

Name: William the Bloody aka Spike		Name: Robert Underdunk Terwilliger aka Sideshow Bob
Occupation: Vampire	vs.	Occupation: TV Clown Sidekick
Origin: Buffy the Vampire Slayer		Origin: The Simpsons

Sideshow Bob crept through the graveyard as he slowly made his way to the mausoleum. He had located an artifact that was essential in his latest plan to murder that wretched Bart Simpson.

Unfortunately, at that same moment, Spike was approaching the crypt in search of the very same tool of destruction. They arrived at the doorway at the same time, each one sizing up the other.

Bob spoke first. “Excuse me, sir, but I’ll only be a minute inside this tomb, after which you may partake your frivolity at your leisure. Step aside, please”

“I would,” Spike replied, “but I’m paralyzed with not caring very much about your plans. I think instead I’m going to make a right snack out of you then go about my business.”

“I renew my objection to this pointless endeavor, informally now, and by affidavit later, time permitting. Nonetheless, I can see that you are badly in need of being taught a lesson.”

Sideshow Bob continued as Spike looked at him puzzledly, “My victory promises to be a marvelous celebration of the human spirit. Your whipping will commence in…ten, nine, eight…Oh, I can’t wait!”

With that Bob knocked the wind out of Spike with his massive foot, (and yes dear readers, I am aware that as a vampire Spike does not actually have any breath to lose), and then ran several yards away to a cannon parked on the grass.

Bob lit the fuse on the cannon and jumped into the barrel. The cannon roared just as Spike was picking himself up off the grass. Sideshow Bob blasted from the cannon right into Spike and really sent him reeling.

Now Spike was really angry, his fangs shining in the moonlight. He and Bob made eye contact and charged at one another. Just as they neared one another Bob stepped on a rake left out by a careless groundskeeper and the handle sprung up and buried itself deep into Spike’s chest…just below his heart.

“Not bad…” said Spike, pulling the rake handle from his torso “…for a wanker!” In an instant Spike was upon Bob, his teeth gashing deep wounds into the soft yellow flesh of his neck. As Spike drank deep of Bob’s blood he looted his jacket and found a right nice slide whistle.

View Tournament Bracket