Beast Battles

by Tom Nicoll

  “Or not see,” said Kiwi. He pointed behind us. “Hey, is that Guggernaut?”

  Hungrabun, Max and I spun round in terror, but there was no one there. I slapped my forehead and turned back. Kiwi, of course, had gone.

  “A cheap trick,” said Hungrabun dismissively, slowly scanning the clearing.

  “But a good one,” said Kiwi. “It almost always works… Arrgh!”

  Without warning, Hungrabun somersaulted through the air then devoured Kiwi in a single bite. She rubbed her paws together with glee, before spitting him back out.

  “How did you spot him?” I asked. “I couldn’t see him anywhere.”

  “I didn’t see him, I heard him,” she said. “What use is hiding if you’re going to talk all the time?”

  “Good point,” said Kiwi. “Let’s go again. But this time you won’t hear a peep from me. Just give me a minute to wipe off all this drool.”

  From somewhere deep in his feathers, he removed a small towel. After giving himself a good dry, he held the towel up over himself then let it drop. It hit the ground, but Kiwi was gone.

  “Oooh, magic,” I said.

  “Where’d he go this time?” asked Max, looking all around.

  Hungrabun remained still, holding up her right paw. She sniffed the air a few times, then turned round on the spot and took another massive chomp, swallowing Kiwi once more. For the second time, she spat him out in a heap.

  “How?” I asked.

  “I could smell him,” she said. “Smell is a very important part of taste, you know. Being a big foodie, my senses of taste and smell are excellent.”

  “OK, another go,” said Kiwi, grabbing his towel again.

  “No…” said Hungrabun, but Kiwi was already out of sight. Hungrabun rolled her eyes and started sniffing again. After a few seconds, she winced and covered her nose. Moments later Max and I grabbed our noses too.

  “Did you fart?” yelled Hungrabun.

  “That’s gross!” said Max.

  “Bet you won’t want to follow my scent now,” said Kiwi from somewhere.

  “That’s it, I’m done,” said Hungrabun, storming past me and Max.

  “Come on,” I protested. “Even you have to admit that was pretty clever. Disgusting, but clever.”

  “You can’t expect me to team up with him,” she said. “Hiding and farting aren’t going to help us win anything. We need to find someone else.”

  Max and I looked at each other. “She might be right,” he sighed.

  “Hey, Hungrabun,” said Kiwi. “I was just wondering, now that we’re a team…”

  Hungrabun threw her paws up in the air. “Now that we’re a team?”

  “Exactly,” said Kiwi. “I was wondering whose Battle Coin you wanted to use to enter the tournament?”

  There was a long pause. Hungrabun seemed to have frozen, her paws still in the air. Eventually she said in a low voice, “Battle … Coin?”

  “Yeah, you know, the coin they gave you after you registered for the tournament,” he said matter-of-factly. “Every team has to cash in one for entry. Should we use yours or mine? I suppose it’s good that we have a spare. That’ll mean at least one of those teams on the waiting list will get to compete. Those poor guys, I’d hate to be in their shoes, forgetting to get their paperwork in early. Everyone knows you need to apply at least a year in advance to have a chance of getting in.”

  A wide-eyed Hungrabun seemed to have lost the colour in her face all of a sudden. We both turned to look at her.

  “You did remember to register for the tournament, didn’t you?” Max whispered to her.

  “Not exactly…” she replied.

  “Right.” I said. “So if you want to compete, it’s basically Kiwi or …”

  “… nothing,” she finished.

  Another few seconds of silence passed.

  “Well?” I asked her.

  Hungrabun stared at the ground. “I think we should use your coin, Kiwi,” she said.

  A grinning Kiwi appeared right next to us, making us all jump.

  “But you have to stop doing that,” said Hungrabun.

  With the start of the tournament rapidly approaching, the four of us set off into the city. Critter Clash had always been a big deal to the kids who played it in the real world but that was nothing compared to the sense of occasion we could feel in the game itself, as thousands of creatures of all shapes, sizes and colours filled the streets. Giant billboard displays hyped up the tournament, showing highlight reel clips from previous Beast Battles.

  “Welcome to Fight City,” yelled Kiwi over the noise of the crowds as we squeezed our way past what looked like an elephant crossed with a butterfly.

  I glanced up just in time to see a clip of Guggernaut stacking two creatures on top of each other before flattening them both. Then Pheasel’s weaselly face filled the screen while his voice boomed out, “We’re Pheasel and Guggernaut and there’s no one who can stop us. Only a fool would try. If you knew what was good for you, all you other teams would stay at home.”

  “Chance would be a fine thing,” I heard Max muttering behind me.

  “I think we’re in there,” said Kiwi, gesturing to the entrance of a massive domed arena.

  Hungrabun’s eyes lit up. “The Brawlosseum! I’ve dreamed of competing there my entire life.”

  We made our way through the masses until we reached the entrance. What looked like a bull wearing a suit put up a hoof to stop us.

  “Sorry, folks,” he said. “The stadium’s not open to spectators yet.”

  “Oh, we’re not spectators,” said Kiwi, pulling out a small golden coin with a fist engraved on it.

  The bull looked at the coin, then at Kiwi, then at the coin again, then at Kiwi. This went on for some time. “You’re competing in the tournament?”

  “That’s right, my good sir,” said Kiwi proudly.

  “Wow,” said the bull. “Really? Wow! You must have some amazing powers to want to compete in a tournament against Guggernaut.”

  “He’s really good at hiding,” said Hungrabun.

  The bull screwed up his face. “Hiding? That’s not a power.”

  “Don’t get me started,” sighed Hungrabun.

  “Can we get in then?” I asked, trying to move the conversation away from how likely we were to lose.

  The bull pulled out a small tablet from his jacket and swiped a few times. “What’s the team name?” he asked.

  “Super Fluffy Animals,” beamed Kiwi.

  “What?” said Hungrabun. “That is not our name.”

  “Super Fluffy Animals,” said the bull. “Here you are. In you go. Good luck – you’ll need it.”

  “Thank you,” said Kiwi, marching through the entrance.

  “Can we change that name?” Hungrabun asked the bull.

  “Nope,” he said. “All team names are final upon registration.”

  Hungrabun folded her arms and walked into the building. “Can’t believe I forgot to register,” I heard her muttering.

  *

  Halfway down the corridor inside we were greeted by a creature that looked mostly like a gorilla, except for the giant tortoise shell on its back.

  “Super Fluffy Animals, I presume?” she said. “I was beginning to think you weren’t going to show. Looking at you, I’m surprised you did. Anyway, my name’s Shilla. I’m the tournament co-ordinator.”

  “Nice to meet you,” said Kiwi.

  “I’m sure,” she said. “Battle Coin?”

  Kiwi handed over the gold coin. Shilla inspected it, turning it over a few times and even biting it. Satisfied that it was genuine, she nodded and said, “Follow me.”

  She led us down the corridor until we came to a door with the number sixteen written on it. “Every team gets a dressing room,” she said, opening the door to reveal a small room with, among other things, a battered couch, a TV and a whiteboard. Shilla turned to me and Max and looked us up and down. “You two … you’re coaches?”

  “Th
at’s right,” I said.

  “Hmm. Not seen many of you for a while,” she said, reaching an arm up behind the door and pulling two jackets from a hook. She brushed them with her hand, knocking dust to the floor. She tossed one to each of us. “Coaches’ jackets. You need to wear these at all times.”

  “Cool,” said Max. They were blue and red, with large white letter Cs emblazoned on the back.

  “Not the word I would use to describe them,” I said, slipping mine on.

  Shilla handed us a slip of paper. “These are the brackets for the tournament,” she said. “As I’m sure you know, it’s sixteen teams in a knockout format. You lose, you’re eliminated, you go home. If you can, that is.”

  I swallowed a lump in my throat. Shilla was talking about the creatures competing, but for me and Max, her words about going home took on a whole different meaning…

  “If you win,” continued Shilla, “then you advance to the next round. You’ll need to win four matches in total to win the tournament.”

  We looked at the brackets:

  “The Shapeshifters?” I said. “They any good?”

  “Semi-finalists last year,” said Hungrabun. “So, yeah – they’re OK.”

  Max switched on the TV. “Better start trying to come up with a strategy to beat them then,” he said.

  “I’ll help,” said Hungrabun.

  “Not right now you won’t,” said Shilla. “We need promo videos from you two. We should have had them filmed hours ago, but you decided to be late.”

  “Promo videos?” I asked.

  “Yeah, you know,” said Shilla. “They introduce themselves, tell everyone how they’re going to beat the other teams, get the crowds hyped up. That kind of thing.”

  “Great. We’ll do that and leave Max to strategize,” I said.

  Shilla led us to another room where a bearlike creature was waiting with a camera pointed at a large green screen.

  “Oh man, this is awesome,” said Kiwi, jumping about excitedly.

  I could tell from the panicked expression on Hungrabun’s face that she didn’t agree. “Er… You mean, I have to speak into that?” she asked, pointing at the camera.

  “That’s generally how it works, sweetie, yes,” Shilla said as she shuffled Hungrabun in front of the green screen. “You can go first.”

  “Hang on…” said Hungrabun.

  The bear pushed a button on the camera then said, “Three, two, one, go!”

  Hungrabun’s eyes somehow grew even bigger. “Er… H-h-hi…” she stammered. “My … my name is Hungrabun … and … I’m-er-I’m-er-I’m-er…”

  “Is she stuck on a loop?” whispered Shilla.

  “What my partner’s trying to say,” said Kiwi, stepping in. “Is that she’s a lean, mean, eating machine and no team can stop her jaws of justice from devouring them. And I’m Kiwi, the master of stealth. Don’t bother looking for me: you won’t find me, except in your nightmares. Because we’re the Super Fluffy Animals and we’re coming for everyone. And, Guggernaut and Pheasel, if you two are listening, we’re not scared of you. You don’t impress us. Everyone’s talking about you as if you’re unbeatable. But once this tournament is over, no one’s going to be talking about you, period. The only thing anyone will be talking about is the Super Fluffy Animals running wild. That’s all we’ve got to say about that.”

  Everyone in the room stared at Kiwi in stunned silence.

  “That. Was. Amazing,” said Shilla, turning to the camera bear. “Did you get all that?”

  “Sure did,” he said, tapping the camera.

  Shilla looked at her watch. “Perfect,” she said. “The tournament will be starting soon so you’d better get back to your dressing room. They’ll call you once the matches have begun. Good luck. Although if you can fight as well as you can talk, perhaps you won’t need it.”

  Outside in the corridor, Hungrabun glared at Kiwi. “I didn’t need you to speak for me.”

  Kiwi grinned sheepishly. “Sorry… I got a little carried away there.”

  “That was pretty great though,” I said. “I had goosebumps.”

  “Thanks, Flo,” said Kiwi. “I don’t know where it all came from. I just saw the red light on the camera and it spilled out of me.”

  “There’s just one thing…” I said.

  Kiwi nodded. “Yeah? Tell me, I love constructive feedback. Well, I imagine I do. Technically I’ve never actually had any before, but I’m sure it’s awesome.”

  I shook my head. “No, it’s not criticism,” I said. “I just wondered … what Guggernaut and Pheasel will think when they see it.”

  Kiwi opened his mouth, then closed it again. “Oh. That’s right. They’ll see all that, won’t they?”

  Hungrabun groaned. “They’re going to kill us.”

  For the first time since we’d met him, the smile vanished from Kiwi’s face.

  We returned to the dressing room to find it a mess. Sheets of paper littered every square inch of the room. I thought someone had been in and trashed the place until I spotted Max in among the piles, scrawling all over the whiteboard with a pen.

  “… carry the one…” he muttered, before spotting us. “Ah, you’re back.”

  “Max, what’s this?” I asked.

  Max looked around as if he hadn’t noticed. “Oh, this? Just some notes I’ve made on the Shapeshifters. You know, statistical breakdowns, performance reviews, in-depth profiles, that kind of thing.”

  “How long were we away?” asked Kiwi, pushing his way through the room.

  Hungrabun picked up several sheets of paper. “Are we supposed to read all this?”

  Max looked around at the mess then burst out laughing. “This?” he said. “Don’t be silly.”

  Kiwi and Hungrabun looked visibly relieved.

  “I’ve still got loads more to do,” said Max. “This only covers a couple of the Shapeshifters’ matches.”

  The Super Fluffy Animals’ faces dropped.

  “Er… Max,” I said, stepping in and taking a seat on a big pile of paper. “You can’t expect them to read all this. It’s a bit much. They just need a few useful tips to help them win. Like you get in those gaming videos online.”

  “A few useful tips?” repeated Max, thinking to himself. “I suppose you could read the Quick Summary I wrote about them.”

  “Cool, that sounds perfect,” I said. “Where’s that then?”

  “You’re sitting on it,” he said.

  I looked down at the paper seat beneath me. “Not quite what I was hoping for,” I said. “Look, just tell us their strengths and weaknesses.”

  Max nodded. “OK. The Shapeshifters’ biggest strength is the fact that they’ve been teaming up for years, so they’re a well-oiled machine.”

  Hungrabun nodded. “They were in the first Battles I ever watched,” she said. “They’re legends.”

  “And unlike most teams,” continued Max, “that normally consist of team members with different but complementary skills, the Shapeshifters have identical powers. As their name suggests, they can take other forms. Last year, they turned into campervans and ran over their opposition to win a match. So… I guess look out for that.”

  I pointed at Hungrabun and Kiwi. “Watch out for campervans, or any vehicles really,” I said. “See, this is useful stuff. What about weaknesses then?”

  “None,” said Max.

  I nodded. “Right. So… Wait a minute. What do you mean none?”

  “Well, none yet I mean,” he said. “They won all the matches I’ve watched. Easily.”

  Kiwi and Hungrabun were looking more and more nervous by the second. Coaches are meant to build up their team’s confidence and so far, Max and I didn’t seem to be doing a great job of that.

  There was a knock on the door, almost drowned out by a giant roar coming from the arena. Shilla popped her head into the room. “Just to let you know, that’s the first match under way. You’ll be called once it’s your turn.” And with that, she slammed the door.
r />   “Oh no,” said Hungrabun. “We haven’t even got a plan. We’re going to lose. This was a horrible mistake.”

  “Come on,” said Kiwi. “Think positive.”

  “I’m positive this was a horrible mistake,” said Hungrabun.

  I knew I had to do something. And with the tournament starting we didn’t have much time. But I had an idea.

  “You two, follow me,” I said. “Max, you stay here and find some holes in the Shapeshifters’ game.”

  “I’ll try my best,” he shouted as I left the room, Hungrabun and Kiwi scurrying after me.

  “Where are we going?” asked Hungrabun.

  “To get some inspiration,” I said.

  I’d been worried that finding our way through the arena would be difficult, but fortunately all I had to do was follow the racket.

  The crowd was in full swing by the time we arrived at the team entranceway. Even backstage the noise was deafening. I could see several other teams watching the action from behind the curtains. I found us a spot away from them and pulled a section open, letting the three of us peek into the arena.

  Kiwi and Hungrabun’s eyes lit up with excitement as they stuck their heads through the curtains.

  “I thought this might help settle your nerves,” I said. “You know, get used to the arena before you go out there. Take in a few matches, maybe get some ideas for your own match.”

  “Great idea, Flo,” said Kiwi. “This is awesome.”

  I pushed my own head through the curtain. The arenas in Critter Clash all had different themes.

  The Brawlosseum was modelled on the old Roman gladiator arenas with stone seating and marble columns. It was currently filled with tens of thousands of creatures dressed in togas, cheering or booing, fixated on the centre of the arena or on giant video screens, where they could watch two teams going head to head on a round platform.

  To be more accurate, one member of one team was going head to head with both members of the other. Guggernaut had a pigeon-like creature in one hand, and a second pigeon-like creature in another. He was repeatedly bashing their heads together, while pulling bodybuilder-like flexes with his other two arms. I could see Pheasel laughing and urging Guggernaut on at the edge of the platform.