The Fandom Games

Night Two

"-and I stood there sayin' 'C'mon, hit me!' and predictably, he refused to!"

Sauron snorted. "What a pathetic excuse for a hero," he sneered. "Did you ever hear about the time I stumped the entire races of man, elf, and dwarf, and at the same time, enslaving an entire other race?"

The Joker shook his head.

Sauron puffed his chest out. "I had thousands of orcs and nine wraiths under my command and the only thing stopping the enemy was a ring. A ring!"

"So... what happened?"

Sauron stuttered. "W-well... you see... Uh... A hobbit destroyed... the ring...?"

"What's a hobbit?" the Joker inquired. "A giant dragon or somethin'?"

Sauron blushed. "Um... no... about... yea high?" He raised his left hand about three feet from the ground and the Joker stared at it for a moment, before bursting into raucous laughter.

Sauron crossed his arms and turned away, pouting and wondering where his master had got to.

Well, Melkor was currently sitting on a stump eyeing the back of the sleeping Khan, whom he had made a 'truce' with. Their agreement had been to sleep in shifts, after running into each other earlier that evening. Melkor, however, was plotting the death of the augment.

He hadn't even taken three steps closer when a voice spoke. "Don't even think about it."

Melkor laughed nervously. "Hahaha, why Khan, whatever are you talking about?"

"Don't be demeaning," Khan snapped.

Melkor went back to his stump.

Bruce was having an unfortunate time. He had been unable to start a fire, despite even his most desperate effort. Not to mention he barely avoided hulking out... As he lay there, shivering, he debated whether or not he should just let himself 'hulk out'. He would have every chance of winning... Eventually he decided he shouldn't. He didn't really want to be responsible for anymore lives.

The same went for the lonely Tom Hiddleston, who sat not that far away, staring wistfully at the sky and thinking about how he would survive this hell...

He was distracted by a figure sprinting in front of him, closely followed by another. "COME BACK SHAMROCK! I DEMAND YOU TAKE MY LIFE! MY FATHER HAS REJECTED ME AND LEE IS DEEAAAAD!"

Tom crawled in a bush and began rocking back and forth.

Sherlock, however, was desperately trying to escape the distraught Legolas. "Do it yourself," he snapped

"But Shamrock-"

"My name is Sherlock!"

"I like Shamrock better though..."

"No."

"Here, use this arrow, end my miserable existence!" Legolas flung his arm out, dramatically attempting to hand the arrow to the fuming detective."

"I don't have time for your drivel," Sherlock huffed, stomping away. "Leave me alone."

He left the upset elf behind without a second thought.

"It bit me!"

"Yes, I can see that Rousy, now for Pete's sake, sit still!" Wundy huffed.

Rousy hissed.

Wundy rolled her eyes. "Don't even, I'm trying to help."

Rousy stuck her tongue out.

"No appreciation," Wundy muttered, poking the bite mark.

"Owwwww!" Rousy whined.

"Oh, shush. I'm not beyond letting it infect you to death."

Rousy hissed once more, receiving another poke in retribution.

Moriarty was in a similar situation on the other side of the arena, only he was on his own.

"Stupid Spock..." he muttered, pressing an herb pack to his side. "I mean, who stabs you... Then goes on to tell you how to take care of it!?" He was beyond disbelief. "I don't know!? Vulcans? Shut up!" He lapsed into sulky silence.

Nearby Tony Stark and Ned the Piemaker were having an argument.

"I won't! I refuse! I've done enough! I won't do it! I can't! I-"

Tony rolled his eyes. "Pick! Blondie, or Otter?" Glorfindel and Benedict exchanged offended looks.

"I won't pick! I won't kill anymore! Not again!" Ned sat him self determinedly on the floor. "You can't make me! I'd rather I die first!"

Tony shrugged. "Okay." So ended Ned the Piemaker...

Spock was jolted from his almost-sleep by the sound of a cannon. It seems his chances grow higher each day, he mused over his chances as he surveyed the area around the cornucopia, before drifting back to sleep.

Meanwhile, a silent stare-off was taking place.

"If you think I'm going to go to sleep within one-hundred feet of your sorry face, you are sorely mistaken... dwarf," Thranduil sneered.

"Likewise," Thorin growled, deliberately sharpening his sword. Thranduil glanced around before leaping into the nearest tree. Thorin glared darkly up at the sneering Elvenking.

"Hmmm, looks like your short legs won't be enough to get me up here," Thranduil chortled.

Thorin looked away, fuming.

He would be the one to end the prissy king's life.

He would.