Live from Madison Sphere Garden in the Staarbuckz Nebula, it's time for the second round of SPACE QUEST SMACKDOWN!

     *audience goes wild*

     Yes, listen to that audience cheer! Space Quest fans from the four-and-a-half corners of the galaxy have gathered here tonight to lay witness to some of the most awe-inspiring battles ever to take place between friends and foes from a computer game! Tonight's bout will take place between that defender of the floors, Roger Wilco, and that damsel of destruction, the electric Miss WD-40!

     Just a quick reminder that tonight's battle is brought to you by Space Pops--the fudgsicles with the name that reminds you that you're in outer space!

     Let's meet our fighters! The first one approaching the ring is the lovely Miss WD-40! Recapping her previous battle with Roger on the planet Kiz Urazgubi back in Space Quest 5, she faced a tragic defeat as Roger stealthily snuck a banana-type fruit into her jetpack's exhaust pipe, blowing her to kingdom come. Now WD-40 is back, and having recently pummelled Djurkward in an arcade brawl, she's ready to trash Roger in the ultimate battle for vengeance.

     And what's this? Ah, it seems Roger has finally shown his face! He's cautiously approaching the ring waving what appears to be a white flag. It seems his previous encounter with WD-40 has somewhat traumatized him, and he is now reluctant to face her again. I'm not surpised at his cowardice considering that in his last fight, he won by default after a vicious Grell ate the Orat he was pitted against. But such things will not happen again seeing as how Madison Sphere Garden is equipped with the latest in Anti-Luck devices. If Roger plans to fluke his way through this fight again, he's sorely mistaken.

     Both fighters are in the ring now. In the left corner, weighing in at 135 pounds in the purple shorts--and he seems to be tangled in the ropes (can somebody help him?) is Roger Wilco! In the right corner, weighing in at one and a half tons, wearing platinum-titanium shielding, and equipped with laser cannons is WD-40!

     There's the bell! The fight is on!!!

     WD is not wasting any time taunting Wilco--she has activated her laser cannons and opened fire within seconds of the bell! Wilco, however is no longer in the ring! He is running like a mama's boy and trying to hide in the audience, hoping the destroyer droid will not harm civilians--and boy, is he wrong! The audience is getting blown apart piece by piece! I've never seen anything like it! There's no sign of Wilco--there's a chance that this fight may already be over!

     Wait! There he is! He's trying to sneak backstage! WD-40 notices it! She's activated her jetpack and is shooting towards Roger like a heat-seaking missile! If she lays one hand on Wilco, he doesn't stand a chance! He'd better have some kind of strategy if he plans on making it out of this one alive!

     OH, MY GAWD!!!!!!! Excuse me...*vomiting*... Okay, folks--we may be witnessing the end of the fight. WD-40 is extracting the bowels from Roger's abdomen and at the same time, crushing his skull like a cracker. I've never seen so many bodily fluids in one fight. I just might...excuse me...*belches*...sorry...

     Well, that's that. WD-40 is the reigning champion of tonight's match and... What's this?!? Roger Wilco's body has disappeared! He must have had some sort of hologram projection available or...or...no! No! Unbelievable! Roger is using the famous "SAVE-AND-RESTORE" technique! Yes! He has just restored his game and is back in the world of the living! Way to go, Roger!

     WD-40 is still confused, folks! If Roger has a chance to win, this is it!

     And he is choosing to run as far away as possible!!! I knew you wouldn't disappoint us, Roger!

     WD-40 is flying after him again and is too furious to describe in words! She's soaring over the ring and--holy cow! She's gotten her foot caught in the ropes! Her leg just snapped off and the jetpack is going crazy due to the imbalance! She is spiralling towards the ceiling and ...yes... crashing right through the roof! I've never seen anything like it!

     Wait... there seems to be something coming down. It's landing in center ring--can somebody go check it out? The information's coming back--it is WD-40's central processor! She has obliterated herself! Someone go get Roger out of the men's bathroom and tell him he's won by default again! I can't believe it!

     Roger is being escorted back to the ring and he is wearing a surprised look upon his face. He was quite sure he wouldn't be able to fluke his way out of this one. Actually, I'm surprised myself. Could the Anti-Luck device be malfunctioning? If so, we might have to do this over again...

     We are getting word back from our head technician, Major Ursa. Tell us, Major, we are all curious to know whether there will have to be a rematch.

     "No rematch is necessary. All the Anti-Luck technology was properly functioning."

     Then how did Roger fluke this? This technology was set up to ensure he didn't get lucky and win!

     "Well, WD-40 wasn't very lucky either, was she?"

     Good point! There you have it, folks! Roger advances to the third round of SPACE QUEST SMACKDOWN! We'll return to Madison Sphere Garden later this round for the match between Droole and the Labion Terror Beast--and introduce a special guest referee! In the meantime, be sure to join us for the next match on Polysorbate LX, where the lovely ambassador, Beatrice Wankmeister, will pit all her wits, skills, and resources against a chicken! And what a fight that'll be!

Match Two: Beatrice Wankmeister vs. Astro Chicken

     What an amazing round this has been so far, folks--and it doesn't show signs of letting up anytime soon! We're back on Polysorbate LX--site of last round's Djurkwhad/WD-40 battle--for this second-round showdown between the Ambassador of Whoop-Ass, Beatrice Wankmeister, and the Corporal of Cluck, Astro Chicken! Both combatants won decisive victories in their first-round matches, but if I had to pick a winner, I'd have to go with Wankmeister. She showed off some impressive hand-to-hand combat skills in the first round, whereas Astro Chicken didn't exactly seem to have his mind on the game. But, I've been surprised several times already in this tournament, so perhaps we should just wait and see who comes out on top.

     Wankmeister is warming up with some stretches... and here comes Astro Chicken, once again accompanied by his handler, Fester Blatz. Which reminds me... this match is being brought to you by the fine folks down at Implants-N-Stuff. If you're looking for moddies or cyberjacks, there's not an establishment in the quadrant with a better selection than Implants-N-Stuff. Come on down today and save on their wide selection of Space Quest Smackdown Merchandise, ranging from limited edition t-shirts to talking Astro Chicken toilet seats. Implants-N-Stuff: since there are only a few places to shop on Polysorbate LX, why not shop Implants-N-Stuff? Please note that Implants-N-Stuff does not advocate the use of illegal moddies, cyberjacks, or talking toilet seats.

     Now that we've paid the bills, let's get started. Wankmeister is ready to go, and Blatz appears to be giving Astro Chicken a few final words of guidance before the battle begins. Now Blatz is backing away, and we're ready to begin! I know you paid for the entire seat, folks, but it looks like you're only going to need the edge of it!

     Wankmeister has assumed a fighting stance... and Astro Chicken is once again just scratching around on the Polysorbate pavement, apparently not paying attention to his opponent. The same thing happened last round when Astro Chicken faced off against Zondra of the Latex Babes. Although he finally mounted a comeback in that fight, who knows if he'll be able to get away with these nonchalant tactics twice?

     Now Blatz is shouting at Astro Chicken... who turns... and appears to have finally noticed Ambassador Wankmeister. Is he? Yes, he is! Astro Chicken is taking flight, soaring high into the sky! We saw this maneuver last round, and it wiped out Zondra. Will it work against Wankmeister?

     For her part, the ambassador is keeping an eye on the sky. It looks like she at least has an idea of what's coming. The question is, will she be able to do anything about it?

     And... here he comes! He's only a speck at the moment, but Astro Chicken is rapidly descending in Wankmeister's direction. I've seen it first-hand, folks; if this tactic works, it has devastating results on an opponent! He's getting closer to the ground... closer... and...

     Oh my goodness! Wankmeister dodged out of Astro Chicken's flight path just in time, causing her opponent to connect solidly with the ground! It appears Wankmeister was ready for Astro Chicken's attack and was able to time things just right. I guess the yolk's on him!

     Astro Chicken looks dazed as a result of his crash landing. But, he's up and on his feet, so this match isn't over quite yet! It looks like Blatz is running in to check on Astro Chicken now. For her part, Wankmeister is holding back for the moment. What a show of sportsmanship, folks!

     Blatz is still conferring with Astro Chicken. Wait... what's that? Is that what I think it is? Yes--it is! I don't believe it! That slimeball Blatz has slipped Astro Chicken a pair of brass knuckles! Now, I've heard of chicken fingers, but chicken knuckles? You've gotta be kidding me! As far as I know, though, this isn't forbidden in the Space Quest Smackdown rulebook, so I guess it's going to fly here.

     Now, Astro Chicken looks ready to go... and he's just wandering around again, this time with a pair of brass knuckles affixed to his right wing. More and more, I'm starting to question whether allowing non-sentient life forms into this tournament in the first place was such a good idea after all. Wankmeister--looking as exasperated as a Peeyuvian Bladder Fish--is now approaching Astro Chicken, closing in on her opponent. She's getting closer... closer... and she's grabbed Astro Chicken by the neck, lifting him off the ground! Sweet sassy-molassy! What's about to happen?

     "Okay, Fester. This has gone on long enough. It's one thing for me to be expected to fight a chicken, but it's another matter altogether when you actually help the chicken cheat."

     "Uh... I'm sorry, Ms. Wankmeister. I, uh, didn't notice Astro Chicken taking those brass knucks out of my pocket, I guess. I wonder how they got there."

     "Shut it, Fester. I'll make this as simple as possible. Either you throw in the towel, or I'll wring Astro Chicken's neck."

     "Cluck."

     "You're bluffing! You'd never choke that chicken!"

     "Are you willing to risk it, Fester? Just imagine all the merchandising income that you'd forgo if anything... unfortunate happened to your current meal ticket here. I'm willing to bet that he's worth quite a bit more in licensing rights alive than... otherwise."

     "Are you serious? You can't be serious!"

     "Cluck?"

     "Ask anyone who knows me, Fester. I don't bluff."

     Fester appears to be mulling it over. Meanwhile, Astro Chicken is flapping his wings a bit, unable to escape Wankmeister's firm grasp.

     "Okay, okay... you win. We quit. Sorry, Astro Chicken; she didn't leave me any choice."

     Why, I'll be a Keronian sand puppy! Fester has given up the fight, Wankmeister has dropped Astro Chicken to the ground, and we have ourselves a winner! It looks like all those years training with the StarCon Diplomatic Corps really honed Wankmeister's negotiating skills. She will now advance to face the winner of the Roger Wilco, Jr./Sludge Vohaul match-up next round! What a fight!

Match Three: Roger Wilco, Jr. vs. Sludge Vohaul

     Unless there's a malfunction in my chronometer's dilithium battery, it looks like it's now time for the third match-up of the second round! I'd like to welcome you, ladies and gentlemen, to the inner chamber of the menacing Super Computer here on post-apocalyptic Xenon, where we're about to witness a sure-to-be brutal show-down between local resistance leader Roger Wilco, Jr. and evil genius Sludge Vohaul!

     My sources tell me that the odds-makers are heavily favoring Vohaul in this fight, but I'd say that we shouldn't count out Wilco quite yet. After all, he's already spent a good portion of his life fighting against Vohaul's minions here in the Space Quest 12 era. He's been waiting for the chance to get his hands on Vohaul for years now, and I doubt he'll waste it now that it's here.

     But, enough smarm already! Let's Smackdown!

     Roger Wilco, Jr. is already waiting here in the inner chamber, preparing for the upcoming fight. There's no sign, however, of Sludge Vohaul. If I know Vohaul, though (and I don't), I'd bet that he's just biding his time and waiting to make a dramatic entrance.

     "Okay, Vohaul... enough games! Let's get this over with."

     Wilco sounds like he means business, folks. But, where's Vohaul? Wait... something is shimmering into existence in the middle of the chamber. It looks like... yes. Yes, it is! It's a holographic project of Vohaul's bloated visage! Wilco can't fight a hologram, though, can he?

     "Roger Wilco, Jr. How good to see you here. It's a shame we don't get to spend more quality time together. As you know, however, I'm a very busy man."

     "Cut the crap, Vohaul. Are you going to face me in person, or are you just going to be your usual cowardly self and send in a fleet of your Sequel Police to do your dirty work for you?"

     "Young master Wilco, your lack of faith wounds me! It truly does. The metallic moron that I faced in the last round of this inane tournament wasn't worth my time. You, however, are an entirely different matter. You deserve that certain... personal touch. We're not so different, you and I. In fact, as I'm sure you remember, my all-too-impressive brain engrams once occupied that young, strong body of yours. Unfortunately, that body ultimately failed me in my struggle against your father. I'm not one to make the same mistake twice, however."

     "What are you talking about, Vohaul?"

     "Patience, patience. As I was saying before you so rudely interrupted me, during your extended stay with me here at the Super Computer complex, I took the liberty to do a bit of genetic experimentation on you--just to satisfy my own... curiosity. And, being the good scientist that I am, I was sure to save a sample of your genetic materials for future reference. Needless to say, with such a sample on-hand, cloning your body was a rather simple matter--especially for one with talents such as my own."

     "Cloning? What is this all about, you madman?"

     "You certainly ask a lot of questions for the son of a janitor. Allow me to show you the results of my research. I'm sure a demonstration will be much easier for your pathetic mind to comprehend."

     Vohaul's hologram has now faded out of existence, and a door is sliding open along the wall of the Super Computer's inner chamber. Someone's coming out... and it's... it's...

     Wait just a microsecond. That couldn't be right! Another Roger Wilco, Jr. has just entered the chamber! Holy space monkey bladders! Does this mean what I think it means?

     "How do you like my 'new' body, Wilco? I'm quite confident that it won't fail me this time."

     Oh, my goodness! This can't be happening! Can it? That Anterian slime devil Vohaul has cloned an exact copy of Wilco's body and transferred his twisted brain engrams into it! What an unexpected turn of events! If nothing else, though, I guess we have an even match on our hands. To his credit,Roger Wilco, Jr. looks fairly unimpressed with this revelation.

     "Let's go, Vohaul."

     "Gladly, my tenacious twin."

     And they're off, engaging in one of the most fierce hand-to-hand confrontations that I've ever seen! Punches and kicks are flying left and right. Vohaul hits the James T. Kirk-patented dropkick. Wilco follows up with the Vulgar Kidney Punch. Ouch! That looks like it's going to leave a mark! And now Wilco (at least I think it's Wilco) has tackled Vohaul to the chamber floor... they're wrestling, each trying to get the upper hand...

     And they're back on their feet! As I said earlier, there's not a more even match-up to be found than fighting against your own clone. Uh-oh... I think that I've lost track of which Roger Wilco, Jr. is which. Please bear with me, folks... they didn't cover this kind of thing at the Hackneyed Announcer Academy.

     One Wilco takes a swing at the other, but the second Wilco dodges the blow, countering with a legsweep. Now, the second Wilco--I think it's the second Wilco--is running toward a panel on the wall. He presses a button, and the panel to slides open and reveal a Sarien pulseray. Hey--those things are illegal in this sector! No matter... he grabs it, and it looks like things have just gotten a lot more interesting.

     The Roger Wilco, Jr. with the gun takes aim at the Roger Wilco, Jr. that was just legsweeped (legswept?) a few seconds ago... but his shot misses. Barely. Now, the Wilco without the gun charges the Wilco with the gun before he has time to get off another shot, tackling him to the ground once again and knocking the gun just out of reach. They're back to wrestling around on the floor, and...

     And I'm more confused than ever! Wait... they're back up, and both Wilcos are making a play for the pulseray. One of them--the one on the left--grabs it and spins around, training the pulseray on the other Roger Wilco, Jr. Both combatants are breathing roughly; this battle has taken its toll on them already.

     "It's over, Vohaul."

     Okay... that means the one now wielding the gun is the real Wilco. I think.

     "This is... quite unexpected. With your body and my superior mental abilities... I should have easily prevailed."

     "Sorry to disappoint you."

     "No matter... finish me off, Wilco. You know you've been waiting your entire life to pull that trigger and do what your pathetic father was never able to do."

     "I'm no murderer, Vohaul."

     "You are... too kind, my young friend. Unfortunately for you, my Sequel Police are not so noble."

     "What?"

     Oh, my goodness! At least a dozen Sequel Police have just materialized in the chamber, surrounding Wilco, Jr. and cutting him off from Vohaul. That man is more slippery than a cargo bay full of greased-up horqs! The Sequel Police descend on Wilco, quickly incapacitating him.

     "Take him to the laboratory, my minions. I have a few other... experiments in mind for our young 'freedom fighter.' Meanwhile, I must retire to my chambers to prepare for my next match against the lovely Ambassador Wankmeister. Won't she be surprised to find out that she'll be facing her own dear son? Muhahaha!"

     For the first time in my life, ladies and gentlemen, I'm utterly speechless. I mean, being an evil super-genius is one thing, but this is quite another. I'll see you for our final match-up of the second round back at Madison Sphere Garden. For now, however, your winner of this match is Sludge Vohaul.

Match Four: Droole vs. Labion Terror Beast

     Welcome back to Madison Sphere Garden as we bring in our final two competitors for this round! And here they are!

     Coming down the aisle is Droole, arriving from his latest victory, which involved shooting an old lady in her deathbed. This time, however, his firepower may prove ineffective seeing as how his opponent has proven itself an expert in dodging laser blasts from his last fight against Stellar Santiago.

     His opponent, just returning from the infirmary after an unprecedented explosion which won him the last match, is the Labion Terror Beast. He's back and he's...nowhere in sight. Droole is looking about in confusion. He was quite clear about being on time and the Labion Terror Beast seems to be late. Let us go ringside with Droole.

     "He's not late--he's chickened out, I'll tell ya that much. Give it a couple minutes and I'll win by default."

     While we wait, allow us to introduce our guest referee! All the way from the United States, Planet Earth, let us give a big hand to Mrs. Roberta Williams!

     "I hereby dub this match 'Roberta Williams' Space Quest Smackdown!'"

     Good for you. Now the clock's been running for a bit and there doesn't seem to be any sign of the Labion Terror Beast and--what's this? Droole's caught a whiff of something. Surprising, since he doesn't seem to have a nose. He is wandering into the audience. Droole, what seems to be going on?

     "Be vewy, vewy quiet. I'm hunting Labion Tewwor Beasts."

     I'll just let him go on with whatever he's doing. He seems to be approaching a lovely young lady in a dress near the top of the aisles. She's definitely flirting with him - we can tell that much. Actually, upon closer inspection, she's not a lovely lady at all. She's really quite ugly...and blue. Look out, Droole!

     Oh, folks, it's happening! The young lady has thrown off her dress to reveal she is none other than the Labion Terror Beast in drag! He's forcing a big taunting kiss upon Droole and running away laughing like a maniac! What an outrageously bizarre change of tactics! He's gone from one Looney Tune to the next! He's returning to the ring and digging himself a hole! Droole is in hot pursuit! He jams his blaster barrel into the Terror Beast hole and seems to be shouting something.

     "Come on out, ya wascally tewwor beast!"

     And something has indeed come out! The Labion Terror Beast has shoved a lit dynamite fuse into the gun barrel! What a horrible thing to do! Throw it away, Droole! Throw it away!

     *BOOM!*

     What a strange fight this is turning out to be. Fortunately, Droole is still in one piece (covered in soot), although his blaster has been totalled by the explosion. His only hope of winning now is to use his wits against this dreaded creature.

     Droole now seems to be calling Roberta Williams over. He's asking her something...she's acknowledging it...and she's leaving the arena. What could they be up to? Meanwhile, the Labion Terror Beast is setting it's own dastardly plan in motion! Utilizing a variety of ropes, pulleys, and ACME anvils and rockets, it has set a trap for Droole by placing a plateful of stir-fried salami in the center of the ring. Surely, Droole won't fall for this...will he?

     Wait a second! He is!

     Oh, good...Droole's attention has been diverted from the stir-fried salami to Roberta Williams who is setting up her home computer (labeled "Roberta Williams' Home Computer") in the corner of the ring. She has caught both Droole's and the Labion Terror Beast's attention. What possible plan could Droole have?

     Why, Roberta Williams is starting up a game of "Roberta William's King Quest VI: Heir Today, Gone Tommorrow!" The Labion Terror Beast is quickly approaching her! Obviously, Droole remembered how the Labion Terror Beast is instinctively drawn towards solving hard puzzles. He is pushing Roberta Williams off her chair and proceeding to solve the puzzles on the game! What a brilliant diversion, Droole!

     What seems to be happening now? The Labion Terror Beast is getting very fed up with the game - it's as if he looking for something but can't find it! His eyes are shaking violently and something seems to be flowing out of his mouth. If I'm not mistaken, the pixel-hunting puzzles have given the Labion Terror Beast a stroke! He falls out of his chair and lands next to the plate full of stir-fried salami. Droole is cautiously backing away. The Labion Terror Beast seems to think it can find solace in eating a piece of stir-fried salami, but his stroke caused him to forget the trap he set up! Oh, I can't bear to watch!

     *WHAM! SMASH!! KA-BLOOIE!!!*

     The Labion Terror Beast has been blown up and smashed by inventions of his own device. Special congratulations to Droole, the winner of this match! Well done, old boy!

     What a round it's been, folks--and things are only likely to get more out-of-hand when we enter the semi-finals. Roger Wilco will face-off against his former navigator, Droole, and Beatrice Wankmeister will attempt to thwart Sludge Vohaul's latest scheme. Good night for now... and THAT'S ALL, FOLKS!

Comments, questions, suggestions... jess@wiw.org