Post by downrightdude on Nov 2, 2022 17:26:49 GMT -5
Snaw continues to fight the out-of-control machines, punching them through star-shaped things. The mermaid behind them is now charging towards the ducks; Snaw wonder if she's a Mermaid Princess and decides to ask later.
Charlie fights off a mechanical bear. He kung fu kicks the bear away and into the approaching Twirl n Whirl ride.
The 'Night Owl', steps away and looking away from the apple-y destruction, grins as they pause, another apple in their hand. They could hear the chaos behind them and feel the air change as the apple grenade took effect. Truly better than could be expected. And they had yet more tickets to infuse...
And more than that, their allies were still being attacked, engaging their own battles and protecting each other. And they could only continue to help too.
They grab more apples and return to their barrier protecting them from carnival-y assaults. With a maniacal laugh, they infuse two more apples with tickets before proceeding to take aim and rain further apple-y glory upon their enemies. May more of the machines taste their sweet and tart wrath. May nothing stop them now.
((Just assume that I keep doing this till the end. 'Night Owl' is too apple-mad for ally interjections. xP ))
The popcorn machine explodes in a glittering mass of popcorn, which rains over the fierce trick-or-treating band as a non-malicious, very-delicious star shower. Left and right, carnival games are smacked by Charlie's repurposed beanbags. The mechanical bear flies backward into the tangled Twirl N' Whirl with a tremendous roar that dwarfs every single previous rumbling in style--space-themed Snaw and Charlie the purple llama style~
All your training and wisdom has finally paid off. You slam dunk that flaming ticket into the Weewoo pinball machine like there's no arsonist tomorrow.
The pinball launches inside its machine, where it ricochets off dozens of Weewoo and various Petpet obstacles, all at a growing frenetic pace--30, 50, 111, 167, 679, 999--the scoreboard skyrockets, the machine vibrates and its electrical buzz crescendos like a boiling kettle--until the entire machine bursts into flames, spewing spectacular columns of sparks into the air in every direction, demolishing four other pinball machines in the process.
That dirty charlatan barker told you he hoped the pinball machines would be to your taste. And y'know what? It turns out he was right. But it was the pinball machines who weren't ready for your fiery taste!
Seeing your approach, the rubber ducks rally themselves after enduring the trick-or-treating attacks and quack right back at you with renewed fury, with renewed ferocity!
Oh my!! Such an onslaught of quacking insults! Such a barrage of high pitched SQUEEEAAAAAAAAs! Such a pitiful squirt of water!
But you--you are a fluent student of languages! You're the winner of the Midnight Carnival raffle! You are a reverse mermaid not to be tangled with.
And you trash them exceedingly soundly in the quack equivalent of a rap battle. Ain't nobody gonna recover from those scathing zingers! The rubber ducks absolutely faint from shame, never to insult anybody's mother ever again, how dare they. Drop that mic.
The carnival has never known such destruction, such cider-cide. Your apple-ticket grenades explode, one after another, all throughout the fairgrounds. The balloon pop pops with enough balloon-bursting force to take out three other games besides, and the ski-ball lanes shatter one level up at a time in various spectacular shades of blinding color.
Battle cries abound, attacks both creative and vehement, trick-or-treaters left and right, to and fro, back and front, all across what first started as a simple crowd before a ticket booth, now a blazing trail of victory. You came to this Midnight Carnival for some luck and games--and it looks like these games' luck has just run out.
At the latest blow, the Test Your Strength meter erupts like a volcano, its bell ringing once as it's blown off, again as it whistles through the air, and one final time as it crashes down upon the grassy fairground, now littered with carnival games laid to waste, various flaming debris, water, sparkles, stray popcorn, and applesauce.
A sudden quiet at last descends over the fairgrounds in the wake of the Test Your Strength bell. The electrical buzzing is gone, as is the mechanical rumbling, and all the sundry shouts and explosions.
Only the ringing in your ears is left as you catch your breath. And when the smoke clears, you see a single game left standing in the midst of all this chaos:
The cornhole game.
Everyone looks at it for a brief moment, and then the cornhole game's electronic scoreboard flashes "NOPE," and its entire mechanism wheels around and rushes away into the night.
Congratulations, trick-or-treaters! When you're provoked and work together, you're truly the scariest Halloween thing out there anywhere. From now on, anyone who thinks to sell you short ever again will need to think twice!
Quotation of the Moment: "All is not lost. Some of it is intentionally hidden." -Night Vale proverb, Welcome to Night Vale