S7W6: Commandos vs. Team SP

Barack and Miley's Touring Commandos are: Rachel Ray w/green lightsaber and flamethrower, Horse #12, Metroid #1-3 and #6, Sardakur #13-#18, Witch #1-5, Knight of Solamnia #1-6, Red Dragon #1-6.

Team Sleeping Pussy is: Zombie Mephisto, Xenomorph #1-11 and #50, Raptor #31-35, Compy #54-58, and Navy #30.

It's just your average day in the deserts of Arakeen, except for one peculiar gathering. "Perhaps you're wondering why I've called you here today." begins NuFaGtu. "Unfortunately, I forgot that I was watching two matches this week, so I came a little... undersupplied. So I figure since I'm helping you guys out by taking this match, you could return the favor by grabbing me a 12 pack and some of this "spice" I've heard so much about. The first team to arrive with the goods will get my appreciation and the win! The losers shall win only my scorn... and an all expenses paid trip to The FFL Wood Chipper! I'll be here if you need me. Good luck!" encourages the self serving Watcher as lounges underneath an umbrella in a folding beach chair.

The Commandos' home town Sardaukers have the inside tip on the location of a traveling bazaar, and arrive quickly. They all begin searching the various tables of the local merchants. "Carpets, no... Stillsuit rentals, no... Here we are! Alcoholic beverages!" says Rachel Ray. She grabs some beer and puts it in front of the shopkeep. He gives her a dirty look. "No sale for annoying off-world scum. Move on." says the surly merchant. She moves in close and begins to talk in hushed tones. "Let me let you in on a secret. Do you see those dragons flying overhead? Yeah, they're with us, and will burn this place to the ground if we don't get what we want." threatens Rachel Ray. For good measure, she whistles and a nearby Red Dragon #3 slowly flies closer. The nervous shopkeep begrudgingly gives her the beer and shoos her away. "Well, that was "easy", i hope the spice is a little easier to find." says the television chef.

Team SP's Xenomorphs, Raptors, and Compys are running around aimlessly, as they are all notoriously bad at improptu scavenger hunts. Navy sailor #30 traverses the dangerous terrain. "This coulda been my time to shine! Maybe be somebody important for once. But noooo... That sorry excuse for a Watcher goes and changes everything!" gripes Navy #30 as he continues walking and muttering under his breath. Time passes and he still finds nothing but sand. His frustration peaks. "This is hopeless! I'd sell my soul to win this match." he says desperately. Zombie Mephisto appears suddenly. "NNNNAAAGGGGGLLLL!" moans Zombie Mephisto. I haven't used any Demonic Zombie since college, but I think he said: "That can be arranged."

The lethargic NuFaGtu continues to lounge, until he see two objects racing in from different directions. On one side, Rachel Ray is riding in on Horse #12. On the other, Navy Sailor #30 is racing in on his now noble steed Xenomorph #50, and let me tell you it is f*cking majestic! They are both hauling copious amounts of @ss, so this one is going to be close! It's down to the wire and... Rachel Ray is your winnah! Cash your winning tickets at the windows, track degenerates! "No!!!!! I can't lose! I... oh no... my soul..." worries Navy #30. "Hey pal, you gave it a good go, and don't be nervous about the wood chipper. They say you go into shock pretty quickly, so you only have to WATCH your body get mulched." consoles(?) NuFaGtu. "Good job Rachel, let's see the goods. She produces the beverages then begins to dig through a satchel on the horse. "So what kind of spice do you want? I've got salt, pepper, cinnamon, cayenne..." she says. "No Rachel... "spice"... you know..." infers the Watcher with an obvious wink. Navy Sailor #30 picks up on the cue, and gleefully pats Xenomorph #50 on the side. It's mouth opens, and it's second set of jaws produces a carefully wrapped package. "I've got the hook up! Holla if you hear me!" Navy #30 yells excitedly. "Whoa! I've never seen an Alien become a mule! Score!" exclaims an impressed NuFaGtu. "Looks like I jumped the gun. I guess Team SP pulls it off after all!" declares The Watcher. "Off to the wood chipper, Commandos. Except for you Rachel. Since you're a Nine-deather, I'll make you a deal. Cook me up some vittles, and you go free. Deal?" offers NuFaGtu. She thinks for a second, then uses her green lightsaber to decapitate Horse #12, then rubs spices on the carcass. She readies her flamethrower to start the cook-out, and within minutes, the desert winds are filled with a delicious aroma.