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randomwriteronline · 2 years

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"Emmet, why am I here."

"For winning those popularity polls."

"I'm not sure I understand what I'm supposed to do-"

"Don't worry about that. Go there. I'll cheer you on! Good luck!"

And so Ingo stood in line with a variety of different people he had never heard of before. To his right was a stout humanoid 3D thing that looked halfway between his twin and Speed Racer, which wasn't exactly a combination he wanted to deal with; to his left was a somewhat nervous man, him too clearly a 3D animated model, who didn't seem to be enjoying himself very much. Perhaps he could have helped clear up what would have gone down.

"Excuse me," he started very politely, making the man startle and a couple mice fall off of his ruana, "My name is Ingo - I'm afraid I don't quite know what all this is about, as my brother dragged me here with barely any explanation. Do you know what we are being judged for, by any chance?"

"Ah - er, I, well, it's--" the poor guy struggled a moment, quickly shaking his hand: "Bruno Madrigal, buenos días -- it's, eh, I'm not - not sure either, I think it's about, about handsome men? Something like that, my niece told me, something- something like that. Which, eh, makes little sense that I'm - that I'm here, I have-- my brothers-in-law, they're more - you know-"

Several voices shouted something in Spanish: a small squadron of variegated 3D characters (his family, Ingo assumed) whoo-ed and hollered from the sidelines to offer Bruno encouragement, including a pair of men very likely to be the aforementioned husbands of his sisters.

"It would seem they have great faith in your abilities and looks!" Ingo noted. Bruno tried to collapse inside his ruana a little bit, embarassed. "I'm certain you will thrive in this competition!"

The man gave a sort of nervous smile: "Eh, I'm afraid not," he chuckled vaguely (no need to tell him about that tiny vision he had coaxed out of himself which assured him he wasn't going to win, which was kind of a relief to be honest) "But I, I'll try my best."

"Bravo! That's the spirit!"

Este tío es lo más raro contra lo que podría enfrentarme, Bruno thought as he recoiled a bit from the loud volume. Pero bueno - and he looked with vivid terror at the pair of pixelated monstrosities at his left (some sort of lanky purple pole with a misshapen hand and pitch black eyes and a small clearly haunted toy screaming about selling something called a cungadero) - también me lo podría pasar mucho peor.

Oblivious to his opponent's thoughts Ingo scanned the horizon to see if something caught his eye; he perked up as he recognized a few traits towards the right end of the opposing line, and immediately put a hand to the side of his mouth to drive his voice further.

"HELLO, FELLOW POKÉMON CHARACTER!" he shouted.

Anybody wearing pants at that moment very nearly shat them.

A punk from the other side looked around, squinted his dark eyes, locked them on the conductor's figure and finally shouted back: "AYYY!"

"How, how did you-?" Bruno asked in disbelief, eyes going from his opponent to the other guy.

"We have a very similar art style," the Subway Boss explained at a slightly lower volume in order not to bust the poor man's hearing while he still had it good.

Bruno blinked, then compared their appearances once more: huh, yes, the definitely did. The more you know.

"WHO ARE YOU?" the punk hollered.

Ingo turned back to him: "MY NAME IS INGO, I AM A SUBWAY BOSS! PLEASURE TO MEET YOU! WHO ARE YOU ?"

"I'M YA BOY GUZMA, BABY!" the other replied. He hit his chest with both hands in a show of great power: "DESTRUCTION IN HUMAN FORM!"

"WE ARE SLIGHTLY CONFUSED BY THE PREMISE OF THIS COMPETITION!" Ingo continued, gesturing to himself and Bruno. "DO YOU PERHAPS HAVE A CLEARER IDEA OF WHAT IT ENTAILS?"

"YEAH, KIND OF," Guzma answered. "IT'S TO SEE WHO OUT OF US ALL WEIRD MEN IS THE SEXIEST!"

There was a bout of silence.

"YOU KNOW," he continued, "IN A RATATA KIND OF WAY."

"I DON'T BELIEVE I'M VERY FLATTERED BY THAT," Ingo honestly replied.

"YEAH I'M NOT SURE YOU SHOULD BE," Guzma admitted, "BUT HEY! WE'RE STILL CONSIDERED PRETTY DAMN SEXY! WHICH IS SOMETHING!"

"Ask him how we're, how we're going to, uh, decide that," Bruno whispered.

"DO YOU KNOW THE METHOD THROUGH WHICH THAT DECISION WILL BE EVENTUALLY MADE?"

"I MEAN, EVERYBODY ELSE IS GONNA VOTE I THINK! WE'RE JUST GONNA MAUL EACH OTHER LIKE, MENTALLY."

"SO NO PHYSICAL VIOLENCE?"

"NAH."

Bruno sighed in relief.

"I WISH IT WAS THROUGH POKÉMON BATTLE!" Guzma lamented. He glared at the yellow triangle staring right at him with its single eye: "BECAUSE I'M NOT GONNA LIE, YA BOY'S KINDA FUCKED!"

"DON'T GIVE UP SO SOON! YOU HAVEN'T EVEN STARTED!" Ingo encouraged him. "WHAT MAKES YOU THINK YOU WON'T MEASURE UP TO THE TASK?"

"MY FIRST FIGHT IS AGAINST BILL CIPHER, BRO! THEY'VE DONE SOME SERIOUS SHIT WITH HIM, I'M NEVER WINNING THIS!" was the answer, followed by: "THOUGH AT LEAST I'M NOT THAT HUMAN VOLTORB UP AGAINST THE SKELETON!"

"WHO YA CALLIN' A VOLT-ORB, YA CUNT?" a very dirty shirtless man with hair on fire and two not exactly well-made prosthetic limbs shrieked, hand going to throw one of the many hand-made bombs that had already been confiscated for the very reason that he wouldn't have hesitated to launch one at the slightest provocation.

"WHAT SKELETON?" Ingo asked instead.

"THAT ONE!"

"heya."

"HELLO! WHAT IS YOUR NAME?"

"sans."

"A PLEASURE TO MEET YOU! GOOD LUCK!"

"thanks, you too."

"HEY!" Guzma hollered to get Ingo's attention back, "AFTER THIS YOU WANNA DO A POKÉMON BATTLE?"

Ingo's eyes lit up (very literally): "WITH PLEASURE!" he readily replied, "IF YOU HAPPEN TO BE HERE WITH A FRIEND OR A RELATIVE I'M CERTAIN MY BROTHER WOULD LOVE TO DO A MULTI BATTLE!"

A faint 'fuck yeah!' emphasized the last part of his sentence.

Speakers crackled blowing a couple lines of static sounding like a few coughs to warm up their throat.

"Pokémon sexymen, please stop yelling," they finally spoke: "Everybody please get ready, the first rounds will be taking place in a moment - uh, odd number participants turn to your left, even number participants turn to your right and, hm, yup, we're ready."

Satisfied enough with what they were seeing, the unseen announcer hit a little bell, the kind that sits at hotel counters in movies or on the table where restaurants leave the dishes ready to be taken to the tables.

"May the sexiest man win. Good luck!"

Bruno was very glad to have lost on the first round, immediately, Ingo sparing him the anxiety of having to go any further. The two gladly shook hands and bid their goodbyes before the 3D man returned to his family, who had been a little saddened to see him eliminated so soon.

The Subway Boss searched for Guzma in the opposite line: he found him laying face down on the ground, clearly upset and defeated, as the yellow triangle floated forward in a gloating manner.

He would have gladly yelled some words of comfort at him, but something bony and frozen cold snuck itself into his collar and on his neck and he jolted downwards with eyes wider than a Bronzor.

"Please do not touch the conductor!" he shrieked, stumbling on his own feet, "Sudden distractions like these may cause terrible incidents!"

"Oh! I do apologize, mister Conductor," said a surprisingly friendly-looking clay skeleton clad in the most goth pinstripe suit Ingo had ever laid eyes on: "I only wanted to tell you we're up next."

"We?" the Subway Boss repeated.

"Yes, the two of us winners," the skeleton nodded. A bony hand laid in the stilted yet elegant manner typical of stop motion on his clothed ribcage as he introduced himself: "Jack Skellington, Pumpkin King of the Town of Halloween, and I believe you screamed your name... Ingong?"

Royalty? This was certainly proving to be quite the contest!

Ingo quickly bowed, hoping not to have offended his opponent: "My name is Ingo, sir! Subway Boss Ingo, at your service. It's a pleasure to meet you!"

"The pleasure is all mine," Jack assured him. His pitch black sockets fixed on the 2D man's coat: "I'll say, I believe you would be quite at home in the Town of Halloween! This is a delightfully dark get-up!"

"Oh, thank you! It's merely my uniform... Though I'm certain my partner Pokémon, Chandelure, would definitely enjoy the atmosphere of your home," Ingo mused, "She is a fiery ghost psychopomp, after all..."

"Why, she sounds like a dream!" the skeleton king cried out.

Eager to show off his darling soul-eater, the Subway Boss made a motion to reach onto a notch in his belt where her Pokéball should have sat - but he remembered only then that he had not been allowed to bring his team along, having to leave them instead in his brother's care.

"EMMET!" he shouted (causing another round of pants shatting) "COULD YOU PLEASE RELEASE CHANDELURE? I WOULD LIKE TO SHOW HER TO THE PUMPKIN KING!"

Emmet gave him thumbs up. Moments later, Chandelure chimed cheerfully and shined her flames to encourage her trainer.

To say Jack was smitten with her would have been an understatement.

"I must have her!" he almost sang. "I have to! Oh, Zero will adore her, I know it!"

"I could catch a Litwick for you-"

"No no no, it must be her! Let's make a deal, mister Conductor-" the pumpkin king proposed "-If I win, you will lend me your gorgeous Chandelier for a whole year!"

In the span of a single sentence, the stakes had risen vertiginously.

Ingo's pose stiffened as he readied himself to fight with tooth and nail, fingers clutched tightly on the brim of his cap: "I am sorry, but in that case I will be forced to stop you in your tracks," he sternly replied. "As her trainer, I cannot let Chandelure fall into someone else's hands!

From his seat on the sidelines, Emmet grew very interested.

"Oooh," he cooed, "This'll be good."

"How can you tell?" Plumeria (who was only here because Guzma didn't have a license and had to be driven over) asked.

"He's gotten serious. And when Ingo gets serious, it's always verrry fun."

The young woman looked at the lanky black figures squaring up for the next fight: "He better win then," she muttered.

Jack had been a good sport in the end, accepting defeat graciously. He was now talking to a similarly tall, lanky, black clad, white faced man who was particularly fucking terrifying; the two had eventually been joined by a lovely purple thumbnail for a poscast which spoke with a male voice, entertaining all together a conversation which featured a lot of static noise - incomprehensibly perfectly understood by both skeleton and thumbnail.

Ingo had not managed to listen in much, partially because he was not one for eavesdropping, partially because he was busy in his own next round against a teen boy in desperate need for therapy.

Said boy had gripped his arm when he had lost with a look in his eyes like madness.

"You must defeat him," he had hissed, probably talking about his next opponent. "He defeated my boyfriend as supreme twink... I couldn't avenge him then nor now... You're my Hope..."

"I will do my best," the Subway Boss had assured him rather nervously. "In the meantime please accept this phone number, call it and take care of yourself."

Unfortunately for the poor Nagito (who reacted to the news by wailing inconsolably for roughly fifteen minutes in the arms of a similarly aged boy who seemed to be very done with this sort of situation) Ingo did not pass the semifinals, bested at last after a discreet winning spree by one extremely desperate looking man by the name of Reigen Arataka, according to himself esper psychic extraordinaire.

"An excellent fight!" the conductor congratulated Reigen with genuine earnestness, energetically shaking his hand hard enough to make the guy wobble like a wacky wavy inflatable tube man in a hurricane, "You've fought valiantly and secured your road to the finals!"

The man wheezed out a thank you, trying to fix his tie as he gulped down a breath to make his daring request - but a shout interrupted him before he could began, making him crumple on himself.

"INGO!" Guzma yelled from the sidelines with a half drunk Tapu Cocoa in his hand: "DID YOU WIN?"

"HELLO GUZMA!" Ingo yelled back. "UNFORTUNATELY I HAVE LOST THIS MATCH BY 10 PERCENT!"

"FUCK!"

"THIS HOWEVER MEANS THAT WE CAN HAVE OUR POKÉMON BATTLE SOONER THAN SCHEDULED IF YOU'RE STILL INTERESTED IN HAVING ONE!"

"FUCK YEAH!"

Content with the response, Guzma took a sip of his drink and squinted a bit to recognize the guy next to Ingo.

He waited a moment, and then yelled again: "ISN'T THAT THE GUY WHO WON THE COMPETITIONS FOR NUMBER ONE TWINK, DILF, MILF, AND INTERNATIONAL SEX SYMBOL?"

Reigen felt himself crumble as the Subway Boss turned to repeat the question; he stopped the conductor in his tracks with a fulmineous hand gesture: "Yes," he admitted, "Yes it's me. I have... Acquired those titles through my undeniable talents and great strife in the past few day."

Even 'MILF'?, Ingo thought as he elected to completely ignore most of the acronym as well as the rest of the titles. I didn't know he was genderqueer! Good for him!

"You must have an incredible drive and strong fighting spirit! Bravo!" he simply said. Then, turning back to Guzma: "IT IS HIM!"

The punk nodded solemnly: "YOU FOUGHT AS WELL AS YOU COULD, MAN," he stated proudly. "THOUGH CAN WE KEEP THE BATTLE FOR AFTER THIS IS DONE LIKE WE PLANNED EARLIER? BECAUSE THE OTHER FINALIST IS THE SKELETON AND I'VE GOT TO SEE WHO WINS THIS ONE!"

"The what?" Reigen asked with palpable fear in his voice.

A lot closer than Guzma, standing in his pixelated glory near the flat on the ground remains of Bill Cipher, Sans Undertale waved at the two 2D men.

Ingo waved back politely and congratulated his victory.

Reigen began sweating.

"He seems to be a tough opponent!" Ingo commented in blissful unawareness of the fake psychic's fear, "I wish you good luck!"

"Well as a sign of sportsmanship and good faith in my chances to win--!!!" Reigen very quickly blocked him before he could leave and his chances of at least bribing one somewhat handsome guy into saying he was sexy (in a rodent kind of way but whatever) vanished in smoke: "As your last opponent, you should vote for me in this final round, don't you think? I can throw in a--"

"Oh certainly!" Ingo cut him off before any offer of spirit cleansings or massages could be made. "I'll be very glad to lend you my support in this final stretch of tracks before your last station!"

Blessing this altruistic and easily swayed man, Reigen thanked him with a thumbs up that exuded more confidence than what he actually had.

"Why'd he give you thumbs up?" Guzma asked once his fellow trainer had left the battlefield to join him on the quest to find his brother among the mess of people.

"Oh, he thanked me for promising to vote for him," the Subway Boss explained. "Will you also vote for him?"

"Nah - but it's nothing personal, y'know? 's a matter of principle," and he gently beat his chest with his fist, "Team Skull's gotta side with the bones."

"A code of honor among comrades... I understand very well."

Passing Komaeda, who was now attempting to climb up one of the speakers to shout encouragement at Sans, Guzma squinted at a figure in white: "That your brother near my girl Plumeria?"

"Why yes, that's him!"

"Damn, you two look really similar. It's like you're twins."

"We are!"

Emmet greeted his brother with a finger pointed right at his face, a toothy grin, and a chirpy: "You lost! Sweet revenge."

Ingo huffed a bit of a chuckle.

"But also-" his twin continued, and with a swift motion he plucked both their hats from their heads to place his own on top of Ingo's. "Third place crown! I am verrry proud of you. Yup!"

"Oh! Why thank you!" the elder brother laughed, "Now we match!"

"Yup, yup! Did you have fun?"

"I'd say so, yes! It was surprisingly intense at times. But I do believe I've made a couple friends across franchises, even."

"Nice! Me too!" and Emmet pointed at a large pixelated skeleton in a rather weird outfit and incredibly long straight teeth who was approaching them at concerning speeds: "He likes puzzles."

"GREETINGS, HUMAN!" the skeleton shrieked in a friendly manner.

Guzma looked at him.

"Is that fucking Papyrus from Deltarune," he asked flatly.

Papyrus looked at him.

"IS THAT FUCKING GUZMA FROM POKÉMON SWORD AND SHIELD?" he asked back.

They quickly shook hands with a sudden air of intense professionalism.

Plumeria's look assured the twins that she had no idea what was going on or what any of this meant.

"Excuse me," a young voice made Ingo turn around to see a fourteen-year-old boy in school uniform looking up at him with somewhat soulless eyes, "Did you compete against Reigen, my shinshou?"

"I did! My name is Ingo. You are?"

"They call me Mob. Do you think he has any chance of winning?"

"Well, he is certainly very determined," the Subway Boss mused, "And I've heard he has won several of these contests already."

"AT THE VERY LEAST HE IS PUTTING IN MORE EFFORT THAN MY BROTHER!" Papyrus butted in. Hearing himself being mentioned, Sans turned a little and waved at the group while his brother continued: "THAT LAZYBONES HAS BARELY DONE ANYTHING MORE THAN WALK TO THE NEXT POSITION AFTER WINNING SO FAR!"

"Ah, but perhaps that's the secret to victory," Ingo hummed. "Mr. Reigen seems to be taking this far too seriously."

"You weren't taking it seriously?" Mob asked.

"On the contrary, I was very serious about each individual match!" the man explained: "But I approached the competition as a whole rather lightly, as a fun activity. Your master on the other hand seems to concern himself far too much with it - to the point where he looks like a Mincinno in the rain."

"Wet and miserable," Emmet translated.

"Yeah, he does look kind of pathetic," Plumeria agreed mercilessly.

Mob looked back at the battlefield, where his employer was doing various increasingly weird poses as a way to warm up while his opponent took a nap.

Maybe he should follow his own advice, the kid thought, And not let other people dictate his self-worth...

"He's a good person," he stated solemnly. "Even if he pays me 300 yen."

A bout of vaguely horrified silence passed through the group without touching Papyrus, who had long ago decided to ignore the economy and all that stemmed from it.

"Like," Guzma finally braved to ask, "300 yen an hour?"

"In general."

Another pause.

"Bad," Emmet sentenced.

"Definitely illegal," Plumeria echoed.

"You need to immediately demand a significant wage increase," Ingo ordered.

In the end, Mob's last second vote had secured the victory.

Papyrus was now parading his newly crowned #1 sexyman brother on his shoulder with the pride and joy of a chef presenting his award winning plate of piping hot spaghetti with tomato sauce between the enthusiastic hollers and clapping of fans, while Reigen was sitting with a second place smoothie contemplating a very select few of his life choices, something which happened incredibly rarely despite being a man who pretended to have psychic powers and got in extremely dangerous situations because of it for a living.

Watching Komaeda being driven away by a large fish lady with a glowing blue lance after attempting to hail Sans like some sort of divine idol, the four Pokémon characters were having quite a ball.

Emmet's attention was suddenly caught by a bit of eavesdropped conversation to his left, between a blue man with an enormous head and a lady in a very similar 3D style - something about hating that someone was right this time.

He turned around very quickly and ran directly into the two of them too fast for Ingk to manage to stop him: "I am Emmet," he introduced himself, making the blue man jump, "I am verrry interested in your conversation! Please continue. Who is right about what this time?"

The woman gripped her man's shoulder tight enough to quell any instinctual murderous movement before he accidentally killed the strange guy.

"Uh - well, it's nothing really," she waved dismissively, "It's just an inside joke, a minor nemesis of ours once thought the queen of England was something made up and there was no such thing, and now he's, well, you know - right."

Emmet cocked his head to the side: "What do you mean?"

"WHAT!" the very dirty shirtless australian man with hair on fire who had called Guzma a cunt earlier screamed at that very moment, talking to an enormous friend of his who wore a gas mask somewhat reminiscent of a pig's face: "YA MEAN SHE'S BIT THE BULLET FOR REAL?!"

The kind of silence that precedes inordinate amounts of unbridled chaos fell for roughly fifteen seconds.

"That," the blue man replied.

"SANS!!" Papyrus turned to his brother as if he had played some kind of part in this.

(Mob, famed anime icon of both socialism and antifascism, who had released a beam of 100% relief in the vague direction of London at the news of his employer's defeat, saw it fit to remain quiet.)

"Oh no!" the Subway Bosses exclaimed.

Ingo then turned back to Guzma and Plumeria: "Would this be a bad moment to have that Multi Battle we had scheduled?"

"Nah, we can totally go for it," Plumeria reassured him.

"Very well then! All aboard!"

And the four of them left to find a quieter place to battle in peace.

#sexymen poll #submas ingo #submas emmet #guzma #sans #reigen arataka #bruno madrigal #jack skellington #nagito komaeda #mob #papyrus #plumeria #death tw #random writing #i caved in. whatever the fuck happened on thursday was too goddamn funny

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