by Tom Nicoll
After at least a minute of this, Pheasel held his rat thumb out then turned it upside down, at which point Guggernaut launched the creatures into the stands.
A bell rang and the match was over.
“Wow,” said Kiwi. “That Guggernaut’s tough. I really wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of him.”
A cat wearing a tuxedo and holding a microphone jumped on to the platform. “Ladies and gentlebeasts, your winners, and advancing to the quarter-finals – Guggernaut and Pheasel.”
“It’s Pheasel and Guggernaut,” corrected Pheasel, grabbing the mic. “And what you all saw right there was just a small taste of what’s to come for those other fools in the back. There’s not a team alive who can beat me … I mean us.” Pheasel tossed the microphone back to the announcer.
“Funny you should say that, Pheasel,” said the cat. “It seems not everyone agrees with you.”
The large video screens switched to an image of two creatures I recognized.
“Hey, that’s us!” said Kiwi.
“Oh no,” groaned Hungrabun.
The video they had recorded earlier, where Kiwi had said a few things about Guggernaut and Pheasel, played in its entirety. For the benefit of people who wouldn’t know who Kiwi and Hungrabun were, their names were helpfully listed underneath their pictures.
After the video finished, two things happened.
One was expected: Guggernaut and Pheasel hit the roof. This didn’t escape the notice of the announcer, who quickly got out of there.
The second thing was less expected: the crowd erupted. They had been noisy before but it had been nothing compared to this. Chants started breaking out:
“Wow!” said Kiwi. “They love us. They’ve even taken the initials of Super Fluffy Animals to turn it into an easy-to-yell chant. That’s the sign of a popular team.”
“Yeah, but look how angry we’ve made Guggernaut and Pheasel,” said Hungrabun.
Kiwi shrugged. “So what? We’ll have to face them at some point if we’re going to win,” he said. “But with a crowd like that behind us, no one can stop us.”
Hungrabun took another look at the crowd, still chanting their names. “I hope you’re right,” she said.
So did I.
We had only just returned to our dressing room when there was a knock on the door.
“It’s time,” said Shilla.
“Right, team, this is it,” I said.
The four of us left the dressing room and began the long march down the corridor, Kiwi and Hungrabun in front, me and Max following them. Max was quickly trying to describe what he had found about our opponents, the Shapeshifters.
“Changing shape takes it out of them a little,” he explained, glancing down at the large pile of paper in his arms. “So, the best time to strike is immediately after they’ve taken a new form.”
There was no response from Hungrabun or Kiwi.
“Guys, did you hear me?” asked Max.
“They heard you,” I said. “They’re just getting in the zone. This is what I’m like, right before I play in a game tournament. You have to tune everything out and just visualize yourself winning. It’s quite easy for me because, as you know, I’m the greatest gamer of all time.”
“Right,” said Max, rolling his eyes.
We reached the entrance to the arena.
“OK, team, here we go,” I said. “You got this.”
We stepped into the arena and once again the place exploded.
“Wow… You weren’t kidding when you said they liked Kiwi’s video,” Max yelled into my ear.
It was a long walk to the centre and while Hungrabun seemed to be doing her best to keep her nerves together, Kiwi was in his element, high-fiving creatures as he passed, signing autographs and even taking selfies with them.
We reached the platform where the Shapeshifters were waiting for us on the opposite side. Their current form, perhaps their natural one, reminded me of two jellyfish, except they were larger, luminous‑green and wearing sparkly purple masks with yellow stars over the eyes.
“I wish we had cool outfits,” said Kiwi as he and Hungrabun jumped up on to the platform. Max and I took our positions in the coaching area just behind them on the outside of the ring, marked by a white box on the arena floor.
A zebra wearing a somewhat pointless black and white striped shirt was standing in the middle of the platform.
“Must be the ref,” I said to Max.
Then the tuxedo-wearing cat-announcer stepped in. “Ladies and gentlebeasts, it’s time!” his voice boomed out. “The following contest will be one round with no time limit. Introducing first, in the blue corner … they hail from Parts Unknown with a combined weight of … well, it varies … Morpher and Camo – the Shapeshifters!”
“How can there be corners when the ring’s a circle?” asked Max.
“Really?” I said. “That’s what you’re most worried about right now?”
“I’m not worried … just making an observation,” he grumbled.
“And their opponents in the red corner …”
I could hear Max tutting.
“… from deep in the heart of the jungle, making their Battles debut, with a combined weight equal to an orange, it’s Hungrabun and Kiwi. They are the SUPPER! FLUFFY! ANIMALS!”
“I want a good clean fight,” yelled the ref, over the roars of the crowd. “One of you in at all times, the other stays in their corner until the tag. Any questions from either corner?”
Max put up his hand. I quickly pulled it down.
“You were going to ask about the corners, weren’t you?” I asked.
“Maybe,” said Max.
“OK, good,” continued the ref. “Let’s do this.”
The bell rang.
“I’ll go first,” said Hungrabun.
“No worries,” said Kiwi. “I got this.”
“Kiwi, no, wait,” cried Hungrabun, but Kiwi was already bouncing across the ring. Hungrabun put her head in her paws. “This is going to be a disaster.”
Kiwi came face to face with what I think was Morpher. The green blob looked down at Kiwi with bemusement. He grinned up at her, holding out a wing to shake.
“Good luck to you,” he said.
“And to you,” said Morpher, a gelatinous hand reaching out from the blob and taking hold of Kiwi’s wing. After a few seconds Kiwi tried to remove his wing, but Morpher didn’t let go. Instead, she sort of melded into her own hand. It expanded rapidly until Kiwi was shaking what looked like the detached hand of a giant.
The hand snatched Kiwi then proceeded to pound him against the ground.
“Kiwi!” the three of us yelled.
The hand went up again but just as it was about to drop, it paused. Slowly, the fist opened, revealing an empty palm. Kiwi wasn’t there.
“Where’d he go?” asked Morpher. I decided not to think too much about how a giant hand would be able to talk. I preferred leaving those kind of thoughts to Max.
“Over there,” yelled Camo, pointing behind her. A dazed Kiwi was crawling towards our corner.
“Kiwi, tag me in,” shouted Hungrabun, stretching her tiny arm out as far as it could go, which wasn’t that far. Any hope that Kiwi would make it quickly vanished when the giant hand grabbed him and tossed him casually towards the Shapeshifters’ corner. Morpher then tagged in Camo, who changed into a huge mallet. Morpher as a giant hand grabbed the mallet and swung it towards Kiwi, who barely rolled out of the way in time to avoid being flattened.
“Come on, ref!” I yelled. “It’s two on one, get him out of there.”
Hungrabun had seen enough. She rushed across the ring but had only got halfway when the ref stepped in and grabbed her. “Hey, back to your corner,” he yelled.
“Come on!” she yelled back. “What about them?”
“Out!”
The crowd booed the referee as Hungrabun was left with no choice but to retreat to her corner. With the ref’s back still turned, the Shapeshifters contin
ued to play whack-a-Kiwi.
Morpher raised the hammer again, then … nothing. She just stood there.
“Hey, you two,” shouted the ref, finally deciding to get involved. “Morpher, out!”
Morpher still didn’t move. Her grip on Camo loosened, dropping her on to the mat. But Camo too seemed to be frozen.
“What’s going on?” I asked Max.
“I’m not sure,” he said
The Shapeshifters seemed to flicker for a second, then Morpher turned on the spot, the index finger of her giant fist extending so that she was pointing.
“Is she pointing at me?” asked Hungrabun.
Meanwhile, Camo had turned herself into a giant arrow, also pointing directly towards Hungrabun.
“You want a piece of me, is that it?” asked Hungrabun. “Kiwi, get over here.”
“Gladly,” moaned Kiwi, rolling across the mat and making the tag, to huge approval from the crowd.
“Hungrabun, wait,” shouted Max as he quickly flicked through his notes. “It could be a trap. I can’t find anything in their history like this.”
“You said the best time to strike was just after they’d changed,” yelled Hungrabun. “That suits me!”
She dived through the air then brought her jaws down on Morpher, swallowing her whole. She turned to Camo, the giant arrow still pointing right at her, even as she moved across the floor. Another bite and Camo was gone.
The bell rang.
The crowd erupted.
It was over.
Max and I rushed into the ring, a still-woozy Kiwi following us.
“Hungrabun, you did it!” I yelled.
The ring announcer reappeared. “Your winners, and moving on to the quarter-finals …” he boomed. “… THE SUPER FLUFFY ANIMALS!”
As S-F-A chants broke out, I looked at Hungrabun. Had her face always been green?
“I’m just a little bloated, that’s all,” said Hungrabun as the dune buggy arrived at our next destination – a tropical beach, complete with golden sands, luscious green palm trees and glistening turquoise water. Brawl Beach had always been one of my favourite arenas in the game. It had a more laid-back feel than the Brawlosseum, though it seemed unlikely that we were in for a relaxing time.
“You look ill,” I said as the four of us got out.
“I’ll be fine,” she said. “Just need to walk it off before the next round.”
Shilla, wearing a sarong and flip-flops, met us and directed us to our new changing room – a beachside tent. Despite the location, inside it was kitted out exactly like our previous changing room, including the same TV, couch and whiteboard.
“We’ll be ready for you soon,” Shilla said, walking away. “So you might want to hurry over to the Power Stand and get your upgrades now.”
“Upgrades?” asked Max.
“I totally forgot about those!” shrieked a recovered Kiwi, clapping his feathers together.
“So did I!” I said. “This is great. After every win you get a free credit to choose an upgrade.”
“You mean, new skills and abilities?” said Max.
“Exactly,” said Kiwi. “Or items. Ooh, look, there’s the stand just there. Let’s go.”
The four of us followed Kiwi across the sand to what looked like a burger van. Inside was a menu board that, instead of offering food, promised things like health and stamina upgrades. A bored panda looked down at us.
“What’ll it be?” she asked.
“Kiwi, we’re extremely … hic … underpowered,” said Hungrabun, holding a paw to her mouth as though she might throw up any second. “So it’s very … hic … important that we take the time to consider which upgrades would help us the most. We can’t just … hic … rush into a decision. We need to think things through… What have you got on?”
“I got a new coat!” said Kiwi, giving us a turn in a shiny red puffer jacket. “Isn’t it amazing? Seriously, how cool do I look right now?”
“A coat?” yelled Hungrabun. “Are you kidding me?”
“Now, Hungrabun,” I said trying to calm her down. “Perhaps the coat has armour or something?”
The panda shook her head. “No, it’s just a coat. Looks good though.”
“It does look good,” agreed Kiwi.
“No exchanges,” added the panda.
Hungrabun sighed what was becoming a familiar sigh. “I guess it’s left to me to save the team, again,” she said, scanning the menu. “Give me a health vial. Those are actually useful.”
“You want a red one or a blue one?” asked the panda. “Red ones restore up to seventy-per-cent health but you can only use them on yourself. Blue ones restore up to forty-per-cent health but you can use them on your partner if you want.”
“You mean he blows his credit on a jacket and I have to bail him out with my health vial?” Hungrabun looked insulted. “I don’t think so. Give me the red one.”
“Maybe you should use it now,” I suggested. She was looking worse by the second.
“I’m all right,” she said. “Here, you hold on to it for me.”
I slipped the vial into the pocket of my jacket as Hungrabun stared intently at something. I followed her gaze to a giant TV screen, where Guggernaut and Pheasel were engaged in their quarter-final match. I say engaged: Pheasel seemed to be looking at his phone while Guggernaut pounded a mole and a vole into submission. It was over in seconds.
The four of us said nothing but I knew we were all thinking the same thing. How was anyone going to beat Guggernaut?
That was a problem for another time though. We had our next team to focus on – Fire and Ice. As we walked back to our tent, I asked Max, “What’s our game plan?”
Max didn’t seem to hear me.
“Max?”
He turned to me. “Oh, sorry,” he said. “I was just thinking about the Shapeshifters. I don’t understand why they stopped fighting like that.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe a bug?”
“Maybe,” agreed Max. “I was thinking though, what about the people actually playing the game in the real world? What if someone was controlling the team at the time?”
“Then we’d have seen them in the opposing coaches’ area. But no one plays this version of the game any more,” I pointed out. “Now we need a plan for the next match. I’ve been thinking, one of the things I picked up about this game … er … I mean sport … in my years of playing … um … coaching is that it’s important to keep tagging in regularly. It helps preserve the team’s energy and it also keeps your opponents on their toes.”
“Can’t Hungrabun just eat them again?” asked Max.
“I don’t think—” I began.
“Sure I can,” said Hungrabun. “You can count on me.”
“You really don’t look that great,” said Kiwi. “Maybe I should take the lead on this one?”
Hungrabun blurted out a laugh. “You and your coat?” she said. “Look, I know you’re trying, Kiwi, but we need to stick to what we’re good at. Some of us are cut out to be fighters, and some of us … aren’t.”
For the first time since I met him, the optimism had vanished from Kiwi’s face. Even Hungrabun noticed it.
“Don’t be like that,” she said. “We just need to play to our strengths, that’s all. Leave the fighting to me. I’ve got this.”
*
She didn’t have it. When the match came round, Hungrabun insisted on starting. As soon as the bell rang she rushed at Ignita, a miniature red dragon, and brought her jaws down on the creature’s tail.
And then proceeded to nibble at it, like a baby sucking on a pacifier.
“What’s she doing?” Max asked.
Ignita seemed to be asking the same question, giving her partner Frostin, a polar bear made from ice, a look of total confusion. Meanwhile the crowd, seated on wooden stands surrounding the ring, was getting bored. Many of them were choosing to entertain themselves by passing around beach balls. Well, I think they were beach balls. They could have bee
n creatures that looked like beach balls.
“She’s too full to eat anything,” I said. “But she’s too stubborn to give up.”
As Hungrabun continued weakly trying to eat Ignita’s tail, the dragon decided she’d had enough. Her tail suddenly glowed bright orange. Hungrabun sprang away, clasping at her mouth.
“HOT HOT HOT!!!” she yelled, fanning at her mouth with her paws.
Ignita followed that up by blowing a barrage of fireballs, forcing Hungrabun to fall back to our corner, luckily with only minimal singeing of her fur. Before Hungrabun had a chance to recover, Kiwi slapped her arm, tagging himself in.
“Hey, wait—” shouted Hungrabun, but the determined Kiwi wasn’t about to change his mind.
“Do we at least have a strategy for him?” I asked Max hopefully.
“Try to stay alive?” said Max.
“I’ve seen you,” Ignita said to Kiwi. “You talk a good game, but your last match showed you don’t walk the walk. Maybe you just need someone to set a little fire underneath you.”
A fiery blast landed at Kiwi’s feet. Or at least where they had been a second before. Because his feet, thankfully still attached to Kiwi himself, were now behind Ignita.
“You’re fast, I’ll give you that,” Ignita acknowledged. “And you have a nice jacket.”
“Thanks, and thanks,” said Kiwi.
“But neither will save you,” said Ignita, firing several fireballs in Kiwi’s direction.
But again, Kiwi wasn’t there.
“I’m over here,” he said helpfully. Ignita spun round, annoyance written clearly on her face.
