This blog celebrates the art of waking up with your enemy's blood on your face by pitching fictional characters against each other to decide once and for all who is supreme. There are fifty FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!s present for your consumption and education. Go nuts.
On a cold night, lit only by the
moon, a wolf howls.
This is considered to be one of the
most dramatic openings in any kind of 'dark' fiction. Wolves,
however, with their differing tastes (Philip Roth is typical),
consider it clichéd, sterile, and racist.
Who cares about stupid wolves
though? Wolves fight only when they have to, over sensible things
like food, mates and territory. Humans have evolved beyond the need
to fight only when essential. Humans fight because someone looked at
them funny, or because they felt sad that day or simply for the love
of the smell of the blood.
Our Fighting Choices are what make
Fighting is what makes us better
(Fighting wolves is what makes Liam
Neeson better than you, but that's a different argument altogether.)
Some of us can't fight very well.
That's okay. We can read about other people fighting, and that's just
fine. Wolves can't read. Wolves suck.
Look, see; further veracity for my
entirely sound comparison.
WHO THEY THEN?
Edward Cullen is a vampire. Fear not, mortals! He's a good vampire, sworn to
eschew tasty human blood in order to sparkle in the sunlight and go
to high school again, and again, and again. Because that's definitely
what we all aspire to with eternal life. He calls himself a
vegetarian, and like all good vegetarians instead slakes his
bloodlust by hunting animals in the woods. His love for Bella Swann –
and his excellent hair – define his life. For more information on
Edward Cullen, see the Twilight books. Or the Twilight
films. Or Fifty Shades of Grey.
Count Duckula is a vampire. Fear not, mortals! He's a good vampire, sworn
to eschew tasty human blood...well, sort of. When he was resurrected,
a bottle of tomato ketchup was used for the spell instead of the
traditional blood. This means that Count Duckula is:
A. A duck, and:
An actual vegetarian.
Rather than be obsessed with a rather drippy
human, Count Duckula craves fame as a light entertainer. For more
information, see the classic Count Duckula TV series.
is no erotic fan-fiction spinoff of Count Duckula that
we are aware of. Please don't write one.
THEY PACKING MUCH HEAT?
Cullen is a deadly vampire. As he will tell you himself, he's the
perfect killing machine. His sexy looks, sexy voice and sexy smell is
designed to lure in the human for an easy kill. To compound that,
he's impossibly fast, impossibly strong, and never ages. Unlike the
traditional vampire, Edward can go into houses uninvited, has no
problems with crucifixes, and sunlight merely makes him sparkle. He's
also telepathic. The only way to kill him, in fact, is to dismember
him and then set him on fire.
Duckula is the 17th in a line of deadly vampire ducks.
Unfortunately, his botched resurrection means that he is without the
traditional fangs enabling him to slaughter dozens of puny humans. He
can, however, vanish in a puff of smoke and has no reflection, and
can stroll around quite cheerfully in the sunlight.
THEIR BACK: WHO HAS IT?
has the primary support of his family, a group of similarly
vegetarian vampires turned, married and/or adopted by his 'father',
Carlisle Cullen. His family share many of the same super-strong
traits as Edward. Many of the members of his family also have
superpowers, including a 'sister' who can see the future and a
'brother' who can influence the emotions of those around him. In
need, he can also pull together group of vampires who more than
anything else resemble the most egregiousX-Men ever, with handily
coincided superpowers and a frequent desire to slaughter all homo
sapiens in the surrounding area.
Duckula has two loyal servants, Igor and Nanny. Igor is a dedicated
and elderly servant, always willing to resurrect the most recently
deceased Count, and despairs of the current Count's propensity
towards carrots. Nanny is a rather stupid hen, but one possessed of
super strength and overwhelming loyalty. Both have managed to defend
the castle of pitchfork-bearing mobs of peasants in the past, and
keep up with all of the cleaning and maintenance in a decrepit
Transylvanian castle. I can barely clean my flat once a week.
NUANCES AND WHATNOT
Cullen, for better or for worse, is a representative from one of the
biggest cultural phenomena of the last decade. Sure, some might say
he's a thinly veiled Mormon and the worst boyfriend role model adored
by young women since Chris Brown, but a cultural juggernaut is not to
be ignored. He is adored by teenage girls the world over, enough for
them to buy three copies of the same book just to get a free poster.
Depressingly, he gets the girl and by all accounts lives happily ever
after. He's played by Robert Pattinson, and you may have recently
read a book full of interesting facts about him.
Duckula should probably be a cultural juggernaut, but just doesn't
quite have the sex appeal. It's worth noting, however, that the
character has his origin as a foe of Dangermouse. Surviving several
encounters with the greatest secret agent of our times has to say
something in his defence. He has the ability to be reincarnated,
depending on whims of his loyal but occasionally stupid servants.
IT'S CLOBBERING TIME
reasons that probably have something to do with his love life, Edward
Cullen finds himself in the dark, misty mountains of Transylvania. He
stalks through the paths, unafraid of anything in this perilous
place, for what could be more deadly than him? Still, the sun would
rise soon, and if the locals see his glittering skin, they might
guess his deadly secret. These mountains and people have a history
with some of his more bloodthirsty relations, and he doesn't want to
face the pitchforks this time around.
a castle looms ahead, just through the mist. Running at a frankly
needless high speed, scrabbling over branches like a spider-monkey,
Edward arrives at the castle and knocks on the door. “Let me in!”
door swings open by itself, but unperturbed by normal vampiric lore
(and basic etiquette) regarding invitation to other people's houses,
Edward strolls right in. Suddenly, there is a small explosion in
front of him. When the smoke clears, a small duck in evening dress
stands in front of him. “Oh hi!” says the duck, enthusiastically
raising a wing in a cheery salute. “I'm Count Duckula! Who are
name doesn't matter,” mutters Edward dramatically, as he tried to
read the Count's thoughts. “I'm just here to save my love.”
exclaims the Count, clapping his wings together. “You're an
American! Have you ever been to... Hollywood?”
nothing but good wishes and a bizarrely large amount of sparkles in
the mind of the Count, Edward nevertheless recognised a fellow
vampire so instinctively lashes out, quickly trying to launch himself
on Duckula. “Argh!” squawks the Count, disappearing and
re-appearing in a small cloud of smoke. “There's no need for that!
I would just love to go Hollywood, find an agent, maybe appear in a
want to advertise us? You want the Volturi and the world to see our
EVIL?!” Edward roars, and lunges again for Duckula, who disappears
and re-appears, now looking slightly more flustered.
I can't be seen in the camera but I think we could overcome that,
maybe... argh! Nanny! Igor!”
this point it has all descended into farce, with Edward trying to run
at Duckula at improbably high speeds, and Duckula always remaining
just out of reach. Edward isn't quite sure why jaunty and oddly
British music seems to be playing in the background, and definitely
isn't sure how he ran into the waiting fist of an oversized hen with
one arm in a sling.
stunned and down for the count, Edward overhears the Count talking
quickly to what seem be his servants. “He's a vampire from America,
Igor!” he hears, still feeling dazed from the mighty blow. “I'm
hoping he can get me a screen-test once he calms down.”
elderly vulture leans down, looking at Edward. “A vampire? This
one? Master, he's sparkling in the sunlight, that's no vampire.” He
sniffs. “Unless he's like you. A...” Igor shudders. “A
Edward looks up properly, the haze beginning to lift. “I am too a
vegetarian. I only eat deer, and mountain lions. Not horse, though.”
that's a start,” mutters Igor. “Still, we can't have another
vampire in this house. Nanny, fetch the impaling stake.”
now, Edward looks around desperately for an exit, deciding to risk
the wrath of the mob and their pitchforks. This place was worse than
the fourteenth time he'd gone to high school. Count Duckula flaps
wildly in the background. “Igor! Come on! This is my BIG BREAK!”
an opportunity with the servants distracted, Edward lunged forward
using his superhuman strength once more and grabs the Count by the
opera cape. “Let me go or the duck gets it!” he shouts wildly,
before suddenly remembering how hungry he is, and how he hasn't eaten
duck for years...
debated stopping the bloodbath as Edward tore and ripped at the young
master, but suddenly realised there was a better solution to this
problem, one that would make Igor's life significantly more like the
good old days. Making sure to take the correct ingredients this time,
he went to prepare the resurrection room. The Age of Asparagus surely
couldn't be far away, now...
never talked about his time in Transylvania to Bella. He felt that
she would never need to know about his odd encounter with the vampire
duck. One dark and stormy night, he was suddenly startled by a pillar
of flame in his front room, which died down to reveal a familiar duck
in an opera cape.
Edward,” the duck lisped, showing off his new set of fangs, dark
red madness showing in his eyes.
Duckula?” Edward gasped. This wasn't normal. The deer never
returned, particularly never with a more pronounced and comedic lisp.
The duck stepped out of the shadows.
Me.” Count Duckula smiled, but there was no humour in it. “You
thould have got me that thcreen tetht...”
screams of Edward Cullen as the enraged duck ripped him limb from
limb could be heard through Washington state.
made a joke about being hoisin by his own petard, because they're
classier than that.
hath no fury like a duck seeking celebrity.
AND THE WINNER IS...
the loser is possibly Bram Stoker, weeping over what became of his
creation in just over a century.
FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT! will return in:
"IT'S ON DAYS LIKE THIS THAT MORTALITY SEEMS A BOON."
If you have any suggestions for who you'd like to see square go each other in future FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT! articles, please mention them below.