Season 22, Week 3
Worker 8
(Final Fantasy Tactics)
 
Psychic Wrestler faces off against a giant metal robot of death; clearly, yet another even match up for the Worker. Greco is surely be capable of doing something, but seriously, does it even really matter? More importantly, can Greco do whatever it is he does before Worker 8 rips off one of his arms and uses it to beat him unconciousness? Probably not. And if a simple beat down doesn't get the job done, Worker can rely on Crush to win another match. Soon, Greco will be but another brick in the path towards the rulership of our glorious robot masters.

V

S

Dios may be punishing the Greco for beating one of His angels, because the luchadore seems to have run out of suerte. Fighting a robot without espiritu and immune to his tecnicas rojas is like fighting El Diablo himself! Nevertheless, Greco must not lose hope here; after all, his amigo is still watching him from Paraiso, and he does not want to disappoint his hombre. And he is still a luchadore, while his opponent is just a big lata who lacks immunity to a good old-fashioned body slam in the end. All it'll take is a few punches and clotheslines for the robot to break like a piƱata.


Halbarad
Greco headed for the arena with some apprehensions of dread. The wrestler was no fool, and knew he stood little chance against his current foe - the scuttlebutt among the fighters was that the robot was on the fast track for a championship, and he was considered little more than a speedbump on that track. Still, he had to at least make an effort - it was rare that a member of his cast made it even as far as the second round, and he was determined to make the best showing he could.

Upon entering the arena for his match, Greco winced slightly - Worker 8 was already present, and wearing an apron. Tales of the previous week's match had grown in the telling, and while he didn't THINK there were any recipes that involved people, he didn't want to find out if the 'bot was prepared to try to create one. They'd found enough of Peco's bulb among the leftovers to revive him without too much trouble, although the onion-like pugilist would definitely be out of action for several seasons regrowing and recuperating.

The wrestler entered the arena, nodding to his opponent. On getting closer, it was revealed that Worker 8 wasn't just wearing an apron, he was holding a tray full of food - enchiladas, from the look of things. Distrustful of this, Greco shook his head. "You will not trap me so easily, muchacho - I will do my best to win!"

And so the match began. Not waiting for Worker to begin the attack, Greco rushed for the bot, delivering a punishing series of blows, all the while tensing for the inevitable counter - which never landed, the robot only shifting his stance long enough to keep the tray in his hands from slipping. Shaking off his confusion, Greco came at the Zodiac-powered golem once again, with much the same results.

"What is your game, compadre?" he said in some consternation, after a partiuclarly brutal series of attempted throws - even he couldn't pull off a suplex on a half-ton machine - left Worker 8 doing little more than rocking on its feet. The robot's only response was to extend the tray towards Greco. Shaking his head, Greco resumed his assault, with much the same results as before. Finally, with a sigh of disgust, he relented. "All right, all right, I'll try one of your enchiladas, mi amigo."

Picking up the fork stationed on the tray, Greco took a cautious bite. "Hey, not bad! A bit spicy, but pretty good." Greco quickly finished off the first of the enchiladas, then shook his head. "All right, now fight me, mach-"

He never finished his sentence. A sharp burning sensation behind his breastbone was the only warning he had before he burst into flames - quite literally. The few spectators laughed as the wrestler ran around in a circle for a moment, trailing flames before the League's medical team finally doused him - it being quite evident that Greco would be in no condition to continue the fight in any event.

The investigation of the events surrounding the match turned up only one clue - a recipe titled "Thermonuclear Hot Sauce", with most of the remainder of the blurred or burnt beyond readability. The telltale card, along with two empty crates labeled as habanero peppers, were the only items left in Worker 8's locker rooms after the match. The investigators are still looking into the details...

Worker 8: 67
Greco: 11

the jp
Worker 8 and Greco go in for the collar and elbow lock up. Greco tries to pull Worker into a Clothesline, but what's this? Worker 8 picks up Greco and stuffs him down his gullet, crushing him into a 3' x 3' cube of luchadore guts! What a travesty! Where the hell is the referee!?!?