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Serve This, BiTCH!; Dancing with the Stars Quest
Topic Started: Jun 6 2009, 09:29 AM (179 Views)
Eplin
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It was another lovely day in Heaven. The sun was setting on the arena training grounds, the last of the warriors were washing up at the sink right by the tunnel exit. Only one warrior remained training. The half saiyan was completing his daily training regimen with the ankle and wrist weights that he borrowed from Master Roshi. At four tons each, the young warrior was really pushing himself to the limits; to the point that his skill training was a walk in the park. From Morning ‘til night, Miccah had been doing his usual workout. The weights were just an addition that made it that much more effective.

The half saiyan warrior had just been finishing up on his last exercise when Trunks and Goten came walking up. Goten was carrying a beat box over his shoulder, and the two half saiyans were walking with a very racist strut. The kind of racist that would get under Dan’s skin and make him quit. When Miccah noticed them, he made his last stride and squat thrust and stood up to acknowledge his visitors with a nod. Goten pressed the play button and a fast paced dance tune came on and the two legendary half saiyans began a planned dance routine. The moves were fast and fluid; it seemed like a good workout for Miccah’s style. To be honest, he wasn’t really sure what to think about what was going on before him, so he went ahead and looked at a way that this could help him perfect his style.

The two half saiyan legends were certainly impressive, especially that one move; you know, the move where Trunks did that thing with the thing, and Goten spun around on his toes for two and a half twists and stopped on them while grabbing his crotch like some pedophile pop star we all know. The guys could dance; this much was true. Miccah had to wonder why the spent their time doing this kind of stuff when they could have been training with the likes of Goku and Vegeta, but whatever, yeah?

Finally, the moment had come for them to stop their performance in their back to back Kid ‘n Play arms crossed finishing pose. After a slight pause, they began to taunt the confused Miccah Eplin who was still wearing his ankle and wrist weights. Miccah looked at them sideways and the two legendary half saiyans were still taunting the star of this picture.

“Aww, Suckah, You just Served, Bitch! What’s up fool? Whatcha got, punk? You went down like a BEEEYATCH!” Goten said inches from Miccah’s face.

Miccah shook his head, he still had no idea what was going on. He walked around the hip hop dancing duo of half saiyans and got to the equipment station and removed his weights and put them back where to where he got them. The two half saiyan legends had followed him there and continued to taunt him as he walked out of the arena and toward his lodgings. It didn’t matter, as long as they would just give it up after sun down. Miccah had a long day and just a little bit of sleep was going to get him ready for the next day when he would do the same exact thing. The weary half saiyan crawled into his bed and rolled over to lose himself in his dreams. Hopefully it would be a great dream with Reina involved. He wrapped his arm around one of his pillows and buried his face in the soft down cushiness. The cards were set; the half saiyan was in for a good sleep.

He was wrong. These guys were merciless. They were relentless. It was as if they had nothing to do with their lives except rub it in on the face of an unsuspecting victim of a random serving of hip hop dance greatness. Miccah wasn’t a player hater; it was a great show of epic awesomness, but come on! To brag about beating a guy who didn’t even know he was in a competition is not really that impressive. If Miccah was given some time, he could certainly defeat those pricks. Miccah was a child prodigy; if given a few days, he could even out do the killer moves that the legendary half saiyans probably spent decades to perfect. He was certain. HE WAS CERTAIN! Now he had to hear about it all the way ‘til four in the morning. They just sat outside his hut taunting him screaming about our half saiyan hero being served ‘like a bitch!’ Finally, the extremely fatigued half saiyan rolled out of bed and walked to the door.

“That does it. You served me? YOU served ME? What the fuck does that even mean? I’m sorry; I don’t speak retard, so you’re going to have to translate it for me. I can certainly say that if you thought this was a competition of some kind, I was not aware of it. Thus, if I lost the competition in your mind, there was no competition in my mind. To be honest with you, you guys are really good. But if you gave me two days, I could wipe the floor with your yogurt eating, bed wetting, no rhythm having asses. I could dance circles around you. If you want to ‘serve’ me, go ahead and ‘serve’ me in a legit competition. Don’t sneak attack me and think you’re all that is and ever will be of hip hop dancing. Bitch!” Miccah screamed as he opened his front door. Goten and Trunks were surprised by this outburst from the supposed silent new guy.

Finally, after a short pause from shock, Trunks broke the silence. He was using a very racist voice in his reply, too. Racist enough to make Dan quit.

“Aight, boi. I hurd ya. Now it’s on. We’ll gives ya two days to get a crew to roll wit ya. We’ll have us a showdown to see if ya can walk da talk.”

[1,007 words]
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Rosencrantz
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Eplin
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The next morning, a long line of people lead out of Master Roshi’s Dojo. The old man let Miccah borrow the dojo’s floor to hold auditions for the half saiyan’s up coming battle; not any kind of battle that he was used to, though. No, this battle was a dance battle. According to the promoters, it’s going to be in a packed arena and the winner gets two hundred zenni and can claim the top dancer in Heaven award (or at least as long as it takes for another player to post this quest.). Pride is on the line. If Miccah wins this dance battle, then he can walk away with the satisfaction of being right about beating those incredibly bored legends that just happen to be fellow half saiyans. You would think they had something better to do with their time. But as the last entry has proven, they didn’t.

So on with the auditions which as the American Idol fans know is the best part because of the ridiculously terrible participants. Some one came in with a big Swedish beard and chamo shorts and no shirt. He was cut and very in shape. He came in with a group of followers and was dancing to techno as he walked in. Some one approached him with a bottle of water and pleased this Techno Viking as he was in need of a drink to quench his thirst. Miccah scratched him off immediately; not because he was bad, he was better than you expected from a six foot, seven inch Viking who looked like he could crush you with one of his frying pan hands. No, Miccah crossed him off because his genre was a little bit off of the mark. Miccah was looking for hip hop dancers… Not Techo Vikings. Better luck next time Fjorg.

Next was a guy dressed as a storm trooper who was dry humping the air. Miccah was hesitant; technically, it was hip hop dancing in its most basic (and white) form. All the eigth graders that went to their formals know what that dance is. However, the decision was passed down on account of Miccah looking for more difficult moves to really wow the judges; he let the storm trooper down gently. After the horny storm trooper, there was also a country western line dancer; Miccah began to wonder if anyone in Heaven knew how to fucking read a sign. How many people could actually read a sign that says auditioning for a Hip Hop Dancing crew and go to said audition and practice a dance that is not Hip Hop? A lot apparently; American Idol auditions could also attest to this crap. They have had the same problems in the nine years that they have done this, nothing can surprise them; Miccah, however, was new to this and the next audition was more surprising than the last. It’s like all of the people who could keep a beat went to Hell; now the ability to keep a beat was a sin worthy of sending you to Hell.

Entry number four hundred and eight was someone who was in the same genre, but his moves were so lame. He did some kind of hip hop line dance; which is cool, but it is lame. What the fuck is so cool about doing this ‘Superman’ or whatever to the tune of a wrapper that was mumbling through the whole song. That’s cliché and the moves aren’t all that impressive. Miccah wanted to master a step that would turn him into a fucking hero; a legend. He was going to turn those other half saiyans into posers and make them give it up all together from the sheer embarrassment from being destroyed in a packed arena. This was going to be awesome, but what he needed at this point was someone that could actually do some wicked fast and acrobatic moves. Miccah could pull of some difficult moves that didn’t require too much speed and compact movements and the other guy could get this one going on. This was what he needed to walk through the door next.

Ask, and ye shall receive; Miccah has done his best to keep the gods happy, and in walks a five foot, seven inch, one hundred and fifty pound blue boy that looked a little light on his feet. Ha ha. Light on his feet; like a gay guy; which this writer will not disclose because he doesn’t think that part is important. The writer will, however, disclose that the little blue boy couldn’t stop making eyes at all of the guys in the dojo and supposedly hit on a bunch of guys in the line before he finally came in to audition.

“My name is Zohar and I’m pretty good at hip hop dancing. I’m a Nomine, and I could use some attention. It’s been a long time since someone actually needed my help and I would love to stick my nose into someone else’s business. I can do a few steps. And I dance at the gay ba- uh well, let’s just say I can dance, ok? I’ll show it in my audition;” Zohar said in his introduction.

Miccah withheld a chuckle; Zohar didn’t hide that very well. The Nomine pushed the play button and began his performance with several acrobatic flips and rolls and spins and all sorts of moves. He was like a blue blur all over the floor and ready to party hard. It was time that he get accepted, but the blue blur didn’t stop there. He jumped up on to the table and began to dry hump one of the judges faces and flipped back and landed on his feet and took a bow for his performance. The judge wasn’t really a fan of this performance, but Miccah was cracking up on the inside; on the outside, he had to keep his composure. Anyway, with the blue blur, the nameless and unmentioned until now crew member, and Miccah’s secret weapon, his team was four of the sickest, radest, most destroy the half saiyan menace-est crew.

[1,023 words]
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Rosencrantz
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Eplin
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His crew was assembled. The gates were opened. The arena was packed. Miccah was about ready to get his stuff started. He sat in the locker room and thought about the last two days of non stop rehearsing. He thought about how hard it was and was hoping this would help him out when it comes to strength. Some say that dancing is an awesome way to improve one’s rhythm in the ring. Boxers and martial artists do it as recreation and special training. The writer didn’t really look this up, but it sounds like it could be true, does it not?

In all actuality, dance is the basis of most martial arts styles. Some could say that it is the most important discipline that Miccah could master. It could make him feel better. Miccah began to worry about the upcoming match. Miccah’s crew said that he was good and he should not worry too much about it, but really, he’s only had two days to learn his steps. Enough worrying. Now it’s time for Miccah to get his team motivated. The half saiyan stood up to begins his speech. Before the writer goes in, there’s something to point out; the stuff in parenthesis during his speech is his inner voice that is criticizing the speech as he says it.

“Well, boys ... I haven't a thing to say.
Played a great game...all of you. Great game.
(What the hell are you saying, jackass? The match hasn’t even started yet genius.)
I guess we just can't expect to win ‘em all.
(That’s true I guess, but to say that before it starts isn’t great motivation, idiot.)
I'm going to tell you something I've kept to myself for years --
None of you ever knew George Clooney.
It was long before your time.
But you know what a tradition he has in movies...
(What the hell are we talking about George Clooney for?)
And the last thing he said to me -- "Miccah," he said -
"sometime, when the team is up against it -- and the
breaks are beating the boys -- tell them to go out there
with all they got and win just one for the Clooney...
(What the hell? If a bunch of guys that have been dead longer than Miccah don’t know about Clooney, how’s he going to talk to me? Fuck it... I don’t even care anymore.)
I don't know where I'll be then, Miccah", he said - "but
I'll know about it - and I'll be happy."

There is a hushed stillness as Miccah and the fellow dance crew members look at each other. In the midst of this tense silence, Miccah quietly says "Alright," to the men beside him, and he heads to the door of the locker room and gets the crew ready and willing to take on the world let alone two punks that were too big for their britches and were being very racist to boot. Miccah would like to turn the tables on them and make them go straight once and for all.

The Blue Blur finally stood up and exclaimed; “Well? WHAT THE HELL ARE WE WAITING FOR?! Let’s win this one for George Clooney!”

The crew screamed in celebration and made their way for the door and ran out to the crow.

“Welcome to the training ground arena where we’ve got a special battle today. One that does not involve throwing fists or kicks. This is a hip hop dance battle between the deadly duo of Goten and Trunks and Miccah and his crew that he put together in two days. Let me tell you folks, it’s like David vs. Goliath here. And the winner of this battle gets to run away with the prize of 200 zenni per member. It’s kind of funny that our prize is a currency that the afterlife doesn’t use, but enough of the continuity errors, I’m now going to pass it off to my co anchor and color commentator; the legend himself, Master Roshi. Now, Master Roshi, I’m not going to ask your opinion of who is going to win this match up, because I believe we all know it is going to be Trunks and Goten, but I am going to ask you the relevance of dance and how it relates to martial arts;” The commentator said with a smile.

Master Roshi crossed his finger in front of his face and leaned up towards the microphone. “Well, Chuck Longhair, Many different styles of martial arts are based on traditional dances from their home countries. It is kind of funny to realize where some of these styles come from. I personally know that it is easy to mistake the martial arts base for strength and balance, but in actuality, it’s based strongly on balance and rhythm and nothing strengthens balance and rhythm at the same time more than dancing. I had Goku join a ballroom dancing class once, but it didn’t last long because he got kicked out for eating all of the food when he should have been dancing. Chi Chi was sooo pissed. She kicked the shit out of him right after that. Poor whipped bastard… Anyway, the keys to link dancing and martial arts are as follows: Rhythm; keeping the flow makes it easy to pace yourself and get your opponent to follow in your pace. Balance; Simple concept really; keeping your center of gravity and keeping off your back. Footwork; if you can follow complicated dance steps, you can make necessary steps in a fight and can only improve yourself as a fighter.”

This long winded speech was just enough to get Miccah to the finish line. The competition started and Trunks and Goten did the same moves that they did on the first day; even the one move where Trunks did that thing with that thing. Anyway, the point was that the reason that Goten and Trunks looked good was because the did the same dance over and over again for decades. Miccah’s team won the match easily with their secret weapon: Napoleon and his “Vote for Pedro” dance.

[1,023 words]
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