“Since the dawn of human existence, one starch over all others, its power great and its variety grand, the potato became the food of champions. On this day two such champions shall compete to be worthy of the title, Potato.” Renaldo announced
“Now that we have that out of the way, lets introduce the competitors in what will be the first probably not annual Potato Games.” Anissa proclaimed
“Today we have, but to contestants. On one side we have Ben, a self-proclaimed potato since as long as he had internet, the would be returning champion if this wasn’t the first ever games, a fiercely recognized starch advocate, and a master fry muncher. He is truly a sight to behold. On the other side we have his challenger, a potato from the shadows, whose Nickname represents an invasion, whose Tatter Tot tasting is recognized around an extremely small portion of the globe, let’s give a warm welcome to Nic.” Renaldo announced with all the would be enthusiasm he could muster.
“We don’t get paid enough for this,” he muttered a second later to the female commenter beside him
Far beneath the commenter’s box, two contestants emerged from their pits. On one end a light clad figure rose. His armor plates of potato chips were a deep orange, hickory barbeque flavored, and ruffled for stability. His lance was a rigid fry overcooked into a brittle yet sharp spike. On the other end a heavier clad figure rode out his armor was forged from a variety of tatter tots flexible enough to move, yet strong enough to absorb a blow. Each rode an identical brown speckled horse.
“Our first game of the night!” came the overemphasized voice of Renaldo. “A throw-back to the old ages, a daring, daunting battle for honor, that’s right folks, Iiit’s Jousting!”
“The stakes are high for our first game, let’s see who emerges victorious.” Anissa added.
Back below the two would be potato knights lined up on their side of the stadium, their fry joust in one hand and their crispy potato waffle shields in the other. A mediator stepped onto the field.
“On your marks, get set, ride” he called, and quickly retreated back onto his bench beside the arena.
The two riders set of toward each other, the thunder of hooves clapping at dirt filled the stadium, as they grew closer. Each held his fry at the ready. Bam! The first collision, Nic’s fry collided with Ben’s waffle shield and glanced off. The two rode past each other both retaining their mount. The process repeated, this time the two launched from the opposite side. Bam! The reverse attack scored on Nic hitting him in the chest, but he kept to his horse.
“A wonderful display of ancient chivalry, two rounds both knights have held strong. Now we continue Ben is currently up by a point as he landed a blow, but Nic appears to be on the offensive now. Only time will tell what will become of these two challengers.” Renaldo’s voice echoed over the empty crowd.
“Time Shmime, Ben is going to win it, just watch” Anissa replied.
Below was a different story however, when the two knights clashed again, Ben took a direct hit and fell from his horse, tying the score and opening the game to its next stage.
“You were saying, Anissa?” Renaldo taunted, “Well folks for those of you who don’t know, jousting plays out in two stages, horseback, followed by on foot combat. Ben is in bad shape after that fall, let’s see how he stands against Nic without his horse.”
The knight in question was busy picking himself off the ground, as Nic climbed down from his horse in the other lane. Ben discarded his lance and replaced it with a shorter thinner cut fry sword. Its golden edge stood ready to annihilate the opponent. Nic too discarded his lance. He took a potato wedge great sword and prepared for combat.
As the two locked swords Renaldo and Anissa resumed their casual banter
“So when do you think these two will be done?” he asked
“I don’t know, you’re the one who agreed to let them use the stadium.” She said
“I owed one a favor, but this is ridiculous, I mean where are they even getting these massive potato themed weapons and armor?”
“Just shut up and make some commentary.”
“Uh Anissa I can’t do both.”
“Just do your job”
The banter went unnoticed to the two below, their fierce battle still raging. Ben’s light armor allowed him the advantage of speed, while ensuring that one hit from the massive potato wedge might end his chances at victory. Nic tried his hardest to ensure just that. Sword fries clashed, and the crowd went wild, the three spectators and the mediator cheering for their desired victor. The two danced around each other with awkward grace. Then at a heated clash, Ben’s sword was ripped from his hands, falling onto the dirty floor below. Nic took advantage of the situation forcing Ben further from the sword as he fell back from the more towering knight. He scooted back in fear bumping into the steed behind him.
“Time out.” Ben said, “Oh sorry, excuse me” he then spoke to the horse walking to its side. Then looked back at Nic
“Time in”
The two resumed their struggle as it began to snow. Now mashed potatoes fell from the sky in globs pelting the ground and contestants below.
“What the heck is going on here?” A confused announcer asked.
“What does it look like, it’s snowing.” Anissa answered
“But, mashed potatoes, from the sky?
“You’ve seen weirder.”
Below Ben and Nic were still locked in combat. The bigger knight slashed rampantly at his opponent. Ben was forced further and further toward the edge of the arena. The potatoed snow was a stroke of luck as it gradually covered the ground. Ben slid on it between the legs of the bigger knight and rushed to his sword. Now armed again the two clashed fries again. Salt flew everywhere in the blitz of attacks. Finally, Ben landed a hit against Nic’s side. Ketchup leaked from the open wound mixing with the piling mounds of mash potatoes.
Nic falls to the ground. For once Ben is the one towering over him.
“Is this it Anissa, could these games finally be over? Will Ben emerge victorious?” Renaldo asked excitedly
“I doubt it; this is usually around the part in the story where a twist happens.”
“What?” Renaldo asked
As if like magic the twist appeared. The sweet potato clouds in the sky parted and from the heavens descended a curly fry. However rather than being of any use, it fell into the stands lost to either contestant. However, during the distraction, it caused Nic was able to recover and rejoin the fray. The wind grew fiercer and the smell of grease filled the air. The battle went on and on. Back and forth they tumbled, natural disaster, divine assistance, and pure power collided in their strife, but neither gave in. After hours of agonizingly cringey commentary and vicious fighting finally the two desisted. What had once been a friendly competition had devolved into ruthless savagery, and finally it reached the point that it could go on no longer. The mash potato rain turned into a gravy downpour. The gravy rose ten feet high in minutes and the contestants struggled to stay afloat. When the rain stopped and the stadium drained two figures lay exhausted in the soaked floor.
They lifted their head and let out a unanimous
“Did I win?”
“Now that we have that out of the way, lets introduce the competitors in what will be the first probably not annual Potato Games.” Anissa proclaimed
“Today we have, but to contestants. On one side we have Ben, a self-proclaimed potato since as long as he had internet, the would be returning champion if this wasn’t the first ever games, a fiercely recognized starch advocate, and a master fry muncher. He is truly a sight to behold. On the other side we have his challenger, a potato from the shadows, whose Nickname represents an invasion, whose Tatter Tot tasting is recognized around an extremely small portion of the globe, let’s give a warm welcome to Nic.” Renaldo announced with all the would be enthusiasm he could muster.
“We don’t get paid enough for this,” he muttered a second later to the female commenter beside him
Far beneath the commenter’s box, two contestants emerged from their pits. On one end a light clad figure rose. His armor plates of potato chips were a deep orange, hickory barbeque flavored, and ruffled for stability. His lance was a rigid fry overcooked into a brittle yet sharp spike. On the other end a heavier clad figure rode out his armor was forged from a variety of tatter tots flexible enough to move, yet strong enough to absorb a blow. Each rode an identical brown speckled horse.
“Our first game of the night!” came the overemphasized voice of Renaldo. “A throw-back to the old ages, a daring, daunting battle for honor, that’s right folks, Iiit’s Jousting!”
“The stakes are high for our first game, let’s see who emerges victorious.” Anissa added.
Back below the two would be potato knights lined up on their side of the stadium, their fry joust in one hand and their crispy potato waffle shields in the other. A mediator stepped onto the field.
“On your marks, get set, ride” he called, and quickly retreated back onto his bench beside the arena.
The two riders set of toward each other, the thunder of hooves clapping at dirt filled the stadium, as they grew closer. Each held his fry at the ready. Bam! The first collision, Nic’s fry collided with Ben’s waffle shield and glanced off. The two rode past each other both retaining their mount. The process repeated, this time the two launched from the opposite side. Bam! The reverse attack scored on Nic hitting him in the chest, but he kept to his horse.
“A wonderful display of ancient chivalry, two rounds both knights have held strong. Now we continue Ben is currently up by a point as he landed a blow, but Nic appears to be on the offensive now. Only time will tell what will become of these two challengers.” Renaldo’s voice echoed over the empty crowd.
“Time Shmime, Ben is going to win it, just watch” Anissa replied.
Below was a different story however, when the two knights clashed again, Ben took a direct hit and fell from his horse, tying the score and opening the game to its next stage.
“You were saying, Anissa?” Renaldo taunted, “Well folks for those of you who don’t know, jousting plays out in two stages, horseback, followed by on foot combat. Ben is in bad shape after that fall, let’s see how he stands against Nic without his horse.”
The knight in question was busy picking himself off the ground, as Nic climbed down from his horse in the other lane. Ben discarded his lance and replaced it with a shorter thinner cut fry sword. Its golden edge stood ready to annihilate the opponent. Nic too discarded his lance. He took a potato wedge great sword and prepared for combat.
As the two locked swords Renaldo and Anissa resumed their casual banter
“So when do you think these two will be done?” he asked
“I don’t know, you’re the one who agreed to let them use the stadium.” She said
“I owed one a favor, but this is ridiculous, I mean where are they even getting these massive potato themed weapons and armor?”
“Just shut up and make some commentary.”
“Uh Anissa I can’t do both.”
“Just do your job”
The banter went unnoticed to the two below, their fierce battle still raging. Ben’s light armor allowed him the advantage of speed, while ensuring that one hit from the massive potato wedge might end his chances at victory. Nic tried his hardest to ensure just that. Sword fries clashed, and the crowd went wild, the three spectators and the mediator cheering for their desired victor. The two danced around each other with awkward grace. Then at a heated clash, Ben’s sword was ripped from his hands, falling onto the dirty floor below. Nic took advantage of the situation forcing Ben further from the sword as he fell back from the more towering knight. He scooted back in fear bumping into the steed behind him.
“Time out.” Ben said, “Oh sorry, excuse me” he then spoke to the horse walking to its side. Then looked back at Nic
“Time in”
The two resumed their struggle as it began to snow. Now mashed potatoes fell from the sky in globs pelting the ground and contestants below.
“What the heck is going on here?” A confused announcer asked.
“What does it look like, it’s snowing.” Anissa answered
“But, mashed potatoes, from the sky?
“You’ve seen weirder.”
Below Ben and Nic were still locked in combat. The bigger knight slashed rampantly at his opponent. Ben was forced further and further toward the edge of the arena. The potatoed snow was a stroke of luck as it gradually covered the ground. Ben slid on it between the legs of the bigger knight and rushed to his sword. Now armed again the two clashed fries again. Salt flew everywhere in the blitz of attacks. Finally, Ben landed a hit against Nic’s side. Ketchup leaked from the open wound mixing with the piling mounds of mash potatoes.
Nic falls to the ground. For once Ben is the one towering over him.
“Is this it Anissa, could these games finally be over? Will Ben emerge victorious?” Renaldo asked excitedly
“I doubt it; this is usually around the part in the story where a twist happens.”
“What?” Renaldo asked
As if like magic the twist appeared. The sweet potato clouds in the sky parted and from the heavens descended a curly fry. However rather than being of any use, it fell into the stands lost to either contestant. However, during the distraction, it caused Nic was able to recover and rejoin the fray. The wind grew fiercer and the smell of grease filled the air. The battle went on and on. Back and forth they tumbled, natural disaster, divine assistance, and pure power collided in their strife, but neither gave in. After hours of agonizingly cringey commentary and vicious fighting finally the two desisted. What had once been a friendly competition had devolved into ruthless savagery, and finally it reached the point that it could go on no longer. The mash potato rain turned into a gravy downpour. The gravy rose ten feet high in minutes and the contestants struggled to stay afloat. When the rain stopped and the stadium drained two figures lay exhausted in the soaked floor.
They lifted their head and let out a unanimous
“Did I win?”