Cat N' Mau5

Chapter 1: Fight Night

My two escorts part the screaming crowd like Moses parted the Dead Sea. Young men and women alike thrust their arms out, reaching out to me and shrieking wildly with excitement. And yet I'm undaunted. The emcee's voice blasts through the hidden speakers and, surprisingly, over the roar of the crowd.

The large men on either side of me jostle fans when they get too close; shoving and pushing us to the front and, eventually, the arena.

To be honest, I hadn't really been listening to the announcer as he too yelled my name. Excitement buzzed in the air, loud voices merged into one monstrous mass swallowing any peace of mind.

Only a few weeks back I was at any run down, filthy place that would let me spar. And now I was looking across the stadium that was the UFC Fight Night.

The bright lights reflected off my pale skin. My face was calm and collected, as well as hidden behind a huge pair of round sunnys. Stepping up on the arena, I saw my name projected up, along with my fighter and a little info.

G3RARD

Well, if you want to know the truth, that's not my real name. It's more of a stage name. My actual name would be Gerard Way. Pronounced, Jeh-Rah-D.

After weeks on working my name up the chart, it seemed I had become a favourite throughout the robot fighting industry. But tonight favour was not on my side. Because I was challenging the champion of all time.

Oh look, here he comes now.

DEADMAU5

Was now projected in place of my name. This guy was famous, and mostly went by his stage name, pronounced dead mouse. No one knew his real name. At least MY stage name was more realistic.

His cap and Nyan Cat shirt seemed to speak for him. If the crowd had screamed for me when I stood up here, they were popping eardrums for this guy.

He sneered at me. I kept the same face I had since entering this place. Not caring.

On the emcee's cue, we took our places in the sparring ring. The huge dome protected us from any flying scrap metal mouse bits that just may head our way during the fight. Large control panels looked liked rubric cubes cut in half. It contained all the usual stuff, as well as the high-tech, brand new gear.

'Sweet!' I thought to myself, my face still giving away nothing.

Deadmau5 cracked his knuckles as he sat in the seat. Ok, so where else would he sit? Keeping my poker face, I plonked my tired rump down in one of the most uncomfortable seats since those nail embedded torturing machines. You'd think that with such expensive and new equipment they'd get seats that FEEL good, instead of just LOOKING it.

The horn sounded; the beginning of the round 1. My competitor and I picked up our handheld controls and started battling it out.

Each time my robot swung a punch, Deadmau5's seemed to be quicker and deflected it, counter striking harder and harder.

Within moments Deadmau5 had knocked my giant, blue mouse robot to the ground with his giant red one. The robots were identical in every way, except for the 3 on mine and the 5 on his, and his red robot had teeth painted on.

Oh ya, and mine was eating dust.

Deadmau5 leapt up from his seat, both fists in the air in triumph. The crowd cheers continuously. I don't know how they haven't lost their voices already.

He thinks he's got a head start because he won the first round. Psssht, I've just learnt his fighting technique.

The chick holding a black board with a white '2' plastered on walked in front of us, signalling round two. She was victoriously holding it above her head for the cameras and audience to see. Deadmau5 hunkered back down in his seat, ready to thrash me again.

I casually leant back in my chair, foot resting across my lap and on my knee, controller in hand and totally prepared for some mouse-beating.

Sure enough, Deadmau5 used his moves on me, trying to knock me out of the competition. My sturdy little fella manage to withstand it. Still working, still in the comp.

The crowd cheered for the favourite of the night. I could all but imagine the ugly, fat, old people cheering in their campa vans and wrestling amongst themselves.

We were only into the second round I was thrashing him. This proved to be a bit of a game changer. Now I new all his best moves, I could use my own while effectively dodging anything he threw at me.

I saw him look over at me from the corner of my eye, and I yawned

Something in the camera room seemed to have short circuited, just as I landed the final blow to the red robot, sending him reeling.

The cameras fizzled, and the lights dimmed and blinked out for a quick second before the backup generator kicked in.

In the confusion, Deadmau5 got up off his seat, growling. "Why you little-"

I stood up in retaliation and self defence.

"You wanna go a few rounds?"

"Wouldn't wanna hurt that baby face of yours!"

The insult sorta stung. Well, it could've been taken as a compliment, because seriously, who wants an old wrinkly face?

But I knew when he said that he was referring to me being the youngest most successful robot fighter. If I won this, I would be champion AS WELL as being youngest most successful robot fighter.

"Too scared as to fight me? You scared I'm stronger than you n your weak old arms?"

The announcer lifted his arms and the uproar sounded.

"You trynna sabotage this whole thing?!" He eyed me accusingly through squinted eyes.

"Oh bring it on!" I yelled back.

He lunged at me and I was caught in his tackle. After a split second of getting nothing but arms waved pointlessly about (it was such a pretzel neither of us could thrust a fist at each other), the announcer grabbed the closest collar and yanked, HARD.

Luckily for me, the closest happened to be Deadmau5.

His anger turned on the large, bald man who head and neck were covered in tattoos.

"DON'T TOUCH ME YOU THREE DIMENSIONAL CANVAS PAINTING!!!"

This quickly escalated, and both men seemed to forget that this was actually a sparring match, and not a yelling match.

Unnoticed, I returned to my hard, plastic, and completely fake chair with a cheeky expression; eyes large, and my mouth forming a large 'O' shape.

The majority of the smog had cleared, leaving two massive structures of metal creaking; each ready to be smacked by the other.

It was inviting, and I took my opportunity to finish what I had started.

Mouse 3's fist flew through the air and landed smack-bang! on Mouse 5's face, sending him reeling.

Bullseye!

I couldn't help but grin as Deadmau5 turned and watched in horror as his battling machine fell to the ground with a large CRASH, leaving me the victor of Round 2.

Pure determination set on his face as he jumped back into the seat and grabbed the controller, ready to smash my robot to pulp in Round 3.