Brute Fighter


Molly Whipple heads over to her booth at the ComiCon to sign more Ultimate Chickfighter game cartridges.

The Goon infiltrates ComiCon security...has Molly arrested as an imposter.

Molly Whipple gets released for cute behavior.

Princess America has joined the channel.

Molly Whipple says, “All’s well that ends with Prin showing up.”

The Goon goes, “boooo!”

Princess America gives the thumbs up!

The Goon throws tomatoes.

Molly Whipple grins.

The Goon slithers off to be evil elsewhere about town.

The Goon has left the channel.

Princess America comments, “I'd apprehend him, but I have a fairly strict ‘never touch Teh Goon’ policy...”

Molly Whipple tries to ketchup to the smelly villain, but he is already paste. “And don't ever threaten my Dew!”

Suri replies, “I'm a superheroine, I wouldn’t do that.” ^_^

Molly Whipple gives Suri the thumbs up.

Taz adds, “They don't call Molly Ultimate Chickfighter for nothing.”

“Then what do they call me?”

“Ultimate Chickfighter For Something?” Taz grins and then heads to the back to load up memorabilia for Molly to sign at ComiCon.

Taz has left the channel.

Molly Whipple takes off her jacket and sits down at her ComiCon table to sign more game cartridges for her fans.

Brute has joined the channel.

Molly Whipple giggles and waves at Christian Bale at the next booth.

Brute steps up to Christian Bale's booth for an autograph.

Suri dressess for the convention. Suri is now known as Cosplay Suri.

Molly Whipple signs a cast on a kid's wrist. “Wow! I’m sorry you got carpal tunnel playing my game, but I hope you'll be able to play again real soon!”

Brute leans in and head butts "Batman" in the nose then hauls the actor up. "Time for you to be useful for ransom because you suck as Batman!"

Cosplay Suri poses for a few fanboys.

Molly Whipple gasps and comes up out of her chair, cartwheeling across the tabletops, grey skirt flapping.

“Put him down! You big Ape!” Molly Whipple clenches fists, standing atop the table. “Now!”

Brute retorts, “Out of my way, scrawny. This guy is worth a fortune and I got some powerful backers want him alive!”

Molly Whipple snaps a kick up under the arm that holds Mr. Bale, skirt parting from the slender leg in shimmering thigh-high nylon.

“He's just an actor! Pick on somebody your own...” Molly Whipple bites her lip. “Size? No. Strength? No. Whatever.”

Brute yelps as the kick lands and hurts way the hell more than he expected. The near seven foot tall villain drops the actor, shaking his arm and narrowing his eyes at Molly. “Turn around a walk away and you'll still be a cute face tomorrow.”

“I don't think so!” Molly Whipple runs forward and launches herself into the air, flying bottom-first at the big thug.

Brute snarls and grabs Bale's booth with one hand and brings it up and overhead and tries to crash the small table onto her as she flies at him.

Molly Whipple grunts as she is batted to the floor like a fly, shaking her head in a flop of blond bob as she pushes the broken booth aside. “That hurt!”

Brute reaches down, grabbing her by the back of her neck and the nylon on her legs and then tries to fling her forwards towards the main lobby elevators at the back of the motel.

Molly Whipple squeals as she is hoisted up, the top of her right stocking tearing as she is sent flying, making a hole in the Chun Li display before crashing into a ficus plant by the elevators. She rolls to hands and knees, dazed by the assault.

Brute turns and looks back for Christian Bale, sees security taking him up a flight of stairs. "Dammit!" The big thug chooses the elevator to try and cut them off, which sends him stalking right back into Molly's path.

Molly Whipple looks up and sees the brute entering the elevator next to her. She immediately follows, coming up from hands and knees to deliver a forearm blow between his legs from behind. “This isn't over!”

Brute flops backwards as the elevator door closes, trapping him and Molly inside the elevator. As he falls, his hand flops back and hits the 5 on the panel, and the elevator begins to climb.

Red Siren watches as life bars appear over their heads.

“How does that feel?” Molly Whipple hops to her feet and begins kicking the brute with the toe of her shoe, torn skirt flapping.

Outside the closed elevator doors the police stop and sigh, their pursuit thwarted.

Brute oophs amphs owwws and yelps before trying to snatch the ankle with one hand to try and send her to a tumble. "Tough for a ...owww...shrimp of a female!"

Molly Whipple stumbles as her ankle is grabbed, falling against the side of the elevator as she twists her ankle away from the powerful hand. “Hey! My shoe!”

Brute holds onto the shoe for a second and then starts to use it like a weapon as he swings it hard at her again and again.

Molly Whipple tries to duck and dodge, but there is nowhere to go. She throws up a forearm, wincing at the impacts. She manages one high kick in response just as she gets clocked on the head and crumples.

Brute has the shoe freed from his hand as he sees Molly crumple and the elevator door slide open. The villain holds the door with one hand and grabs the heroine's ankle with the other and drags her onto the elevator door railing, leaving her as a spread-eagled doorstop. He releases the elevator door and waits.

Molly Whipple raises her head once and groans before slumping back spread eagle with her skirt completely askew as the door tries to close and encounters the crotch of her pink panties, retreating. She moans, but only twitches.

Below the police continue to wait for the elevator that remains stuck on the fifth floor for some reason.

Brute laughs as the elevator door retreats and then tries to close again, only to once again strike Molly's crotch. The villain then turns and heads towards the stairs.

Molly Whipple groans more as the door repeatedly tries to close only to encounter the pink pout between her thighs and retreat, effectively holding the elevator.

The police still wait on the elevator, which is why Empire City needs superheroines, cause the cops are pretty stupid, obviously.

Brute encounters and starts to mow down the ComiCon security and a few fans trying to protect Christian Bale. Of course, all he really needed to do to the fans was steal and squash their aluminum foil hats and wrinkle their Spock ears and that finished them off.

Molly Whipple lurches with each stroke of the elevator door, her back finally arching and her eyes flickering open as her whole body stiffens, a growing dark spot on her pink panties.

Molly Whipple rolls over and shakes her head, losing her skirt in the elevator door as it closes behind her.

Brute sends the last of the security team tumbling down the stairs and once again smacks Mister Bale upside the head. "Now, we can get back to business."

Molly Whipple taps Brute on the shoulder, standing there in corset, panties and stockings as he looks back, a reenergized look on her face. “I told you to let him go!”

Brute looks at Molly and just shakes his head. "How the...." He lets go of Bale as he stares at the now skirtless woman. "You don't know when to quit, do you?"

“No, and apparently I'm going to have to teach you...” Molly Whipple leaps into a 123 dropkick, legs churning, aiming to land feet to chest chin and cheek in rapid succession.

Brute is too stunned to move and soon is sent flying down the stairs, tumbling all the way to the 4th floor from the assault of kicks by the Danger Doll. He crashes through the sheetrock wall and into the hallway on the fourth floor.

Molly Whipple leaps down the stairs in a single bound, and bounces through the hole in the sheetrock, anxious to finish her massive foe. She looks around for the big man, but doesn't see him. “He must be in one of the rooms on this hall...”

Kurt Malkomes has joined the channel.

In the hallway of the 4th floor maids scream and scatter, laundry and sheets flying in different directions, giving Molly a direction to look.

Molly Whipple begins kicking down doors and looking inside when the sudden commotion and explosion of dirty towels gets her attention. “I've got you now...”

Kurt Malkomes takes a seat with a bag of popcorn, settles in to watch the show.

Imoen has joined the channel.

The biggest commotion seems to come from the area of Room 412 or 414 as they are side by side.

Molly Whipple runs toward the sound of the screaming maids, her damp panties working between her clenching glutes as she runs. She kicks open the door to room 412 and cartwheels inside.

Brute is off to the side, holding what is left of the shower curtain and he uses it to try and clothesline Molly across the chest as soon as she finishes her cartwheel.

Molly Whipple almost comes up into her stance before getting knocking on her butt by the unseen clothesline of the clear shower curtain. She immediately rolls and sweeps at Brute's legs.

Brute flops and falls, shifting his weight and trying to angle his fall so that he is able to at least partially land on top of her this time.

Molly Whipple's sweep is rewarded as the man falls, but unfortunately on top of her. She oophs and tries to roll him off of her now sweaty form. “Get off, you Brute!”

Brute shifts and wriggles to try and get his hands around her as he looks to try and close the gap so his brute strength can play a factor as he hopes to crush the breath out of her with a bearhug.

Molly Whipple is too slender and sweaty to stay trapped for long, and almost wriggles free, but one of the big man's hands catches hold of the top of her corset and holds on.

Brute realizing he can't hold onto her, changes strategies and instead, hanging onto her corset to keep her from getting away, he spies the corner end of the nightstand by the bed in the room and then starts to push her backwards, trying to force her spine to crash nastily into the edge of the corner of the nightstand.

Molly Whipple kicks her slender legs as she is lifted, tripping over the stocking on her right leg which now mostly dangles from the ankle, stumbling backwards until her back encounters the nightstand with a crunch, her body bending backwards until head touches heel.

Brute drops Molly and then grabs the lamp off the night stand and tries to bring it down onto Molly's head. "You should have stayed out of this, pip squeak."

Molly Whipple barely manages to deflect the lamp by throwing up her forearm, gasping for air and wondering if her back is broken.

Brute grabs her by the hair, trying to pull her up so he can haul her onto his shoulder and then walk towards the window. "You've cost me a good deal of money, little girl. Time for you to pay it back!"

Molly Whipple tries to shake her head until the hand in her hair restrains her. The room spins around her as she is hoisted up, held horizontally over the man's shoulders. She grasps frantically at a sprinkler that breaks off in her hand sending water spraying into the room.

Brute kicks the window open and then uses both hands to heave Molly out of the fourth story window! "You should have left when you had the chance!"

Molly Whipple kicks over a light fixture with the flailing nylon-clad left leg as she goes out the window, sparks flying in the wet room behind her as she sails out into space. “Oh shit... HELP!”

Imoen looks up spotting someone falling eyes wide and chants creating winds to guide Molly down safely.

Molly Whipple is still too stunned to make the proper adjustment and falls 50 feet, still flailing as she belly flops in the pool below.

Hotel customers look up from the swimming pool to see a blond female flailing in a downward tumble right into the swimming pool which sends a huge splash over most of the patrons there.

Warrior mutters, “Good. Molly is too much fun to fight to have watched the lovely die.”

Brute sighs and grumbles as he heads out the back of the hotel as the first person to the pool and ready to lend her a hand is one Christian Bale.

Molly Whipple floats face down in the water of the pool, seeming unconscious or at least winded for several seconds, before the Batman actor lifts her out of the water, one stocking on, one off, one boobie in, one out of her pink corset and panties, now soaked and clingy. She gurgles. “Hi Mr. Bale... *cough* Are you... *sputter* OK?”

Mister Bale nods and wraps a towel around our heroine and helps her back inside.

Molly Whipple can already see the headlines. "Chickfighter makes big splash at final day of ComiCon..."

******

(A week or so later…)

Taz tosses Chicky a large Dew!

Longshot72 yells, “NO! Don't Dew it!!”

Chickfighter gigges. “You can't sing the blues unless you do the Dews...”

Lady Behemoth has joined the channel.

Son-of-Gaia greets, “'ello Lady!”

Lady Behemoth peers within and wavies.

Diana Prince adds, “hi Lady.”

Lady Behemoth is inevitable reminded of the "HI NICE LADY" greeting. She rushes over and gives Diana Prince a hug for no apparent or logical reason... then rushes off.

Longshot72 observes, “nuttah.”

Lady Behemoth rushes over and gives Longshot a hug as well... once again no apparent or logical reason.

“Yeek!”

“He screems like a girl,” notes Son-of-Gaia.

“You look like one,” retorts Longshot72, “and and… neener.”

Taz has left the channel.

Lady Behemoth ponders what Longshot would look like in drag... she resolves to experiment.

“Ohmygawd!” Chickfighter gasps, “The humanity...”

Longshot72 nods. “Thank you...I was trying to find the right words.”

Brute has joined the channel.

Diana Prince asks, “Brute, are you related to Bluto by any chance?”

Brute points at Chickfighter! “YOU!”

“No, YOU!” Chickfighter points back. “Thick neck!”

Brute sneers. “Scrawny little girl!”

Lady Behemoth rushes for her stereo and plays the Mortal Kombat theme!

Longshot72 muses, “It's a theme? I thought it was just someone slapping a guitar…”

Kurt Malkomes glances up from his paper, looks at Brute, then to Chicky whom he is pointing at, thinks now might be a good time to go home.

Son-of-Gaia snickers.

Chickfighter demands, “Why did you attack Mr. Bale you big bully?”

Brute snatches hold of a parking meter, pulls it out of the ground and then wields it like a club. "For money, you dingbat! Money you cost me that I am going to beat out of you!"

“Like I keep my money on me...” Chickfighter rolls eyes. “I maintain charge accounts you moron!”

Longshot72 notes, “He's mad about losing money, wait ‘til he gets the bill for the parking meter!”

Lady Behemoth points out that super-heroine outfits are notorious difficult to keep bills in.

Longshot72: (or anything else)

Lady Behemoth: (Depends on the size of the cleavage)

Lady Behemoth: (If you're... say... Power Girl or Emma Frost... you might be able to hide a 12 piece tea set in there)

The Ranger watches the action.

Longshot72: (bwahahahahaha)

Brute swings the meter like a baseball bat at Chickfighter. "This time there won't be a swimming pool to save you!"

Chickfighter ducks the parking meter and gulps the rest of her Dew so it doesn't get wasted. “But it is YOU who will be going to jail by the time I get finished with you!”

Lady Behemoth quips, “Make sure that Chickfighter's Dew is Done, for if the Dew is not Done there's more to Do before the Doing can get to be Done.”

“Or undone,” adds the Ranger.

Lady Behemoth sums up, “Dew diligence you might call it…”

The Ranger smirks. “Yup.”

Brute pulls back and then thrusts the pole forwards, like a sword, aiming for the lower gut. "I'm going to enjoy breaking you in half!"

Chickfighter pops upwards, planting her hands on the pole as it is thrust, flipping over into a kick at the ulgy face of the brute.

Brute gets pasted in the face, dropping the pole and staggering backwards into the side of Longshot's car, putting a nice dent in the passenger side door.

The Ranger raises a brow. “Talk about leaving a dent!”

“MY Vega!” exclaims Longshot72, “You ass!”

Chickfighter kicks the parking meter up into her gloved hands as she lands. “My turn!” Chickfighter lifts it with a two handed grip and runs forward, aiming a kendo strike at Brute.

Brute groans and looks up. He stumbles and tries to get back to his feet. He barely side steps, leaving the pole to ram through the passenger side window of the Vega as the villain stumbles to the side.

“Oh For...” Longshot72 sighs, “Well now I know who to bill for this.”

“Oopsie!” Chickfighter leaves the meter and it's "expired" reading stuck through the car, opting to kick her slender legs at Brute now.

Brute stands back up and is kicked in the gut, doubled over.

Chickfighter brings a knee up at the double chin.

Brute is thrown back into the side of the car again, cross-eyed and punch-drunk.

Chickfighter rushes forward and scoops the big lug up in a show of genetically-enhanced strength, body slamming him down over the hood of the car. “Ungh! Now stay down!”

“HEY!” Longshot72 curses. “DAMMIT!”

Chickfighter reaches for the zip ties on her belt.

Brute smashes down the hood of the car, leaving a Brute-sized dent of a body imprint on what had been the hood of a Vega! He slowly rises up and tries to get into a sitting position on the hood of the car.

Chickfighter rushes forward with zip ties in hand to restrain the unskilled brawler.

Brute recovers enough sense to reach out and grab the heroine as she rushes in, trying to pull her into a bear hug as he also twists his body and lurches backwards, attempting what amounts to a belly to belly suplex that would, if successful, crush Chicky on the top of the Vega underneath him!

Chickfighter gasps as she is caught rushing forward, powerful arms pinning her own arms to her sides, pinned belly to belly with the smelly man as they flip to the top of the mangled car, which flattens under her as the big man lands on top. “Nnnnghhh...”

Longshot72 mutters, “I am so going to sue...”

Brute takes advantage of the close quarters, trying to bury his fists in short jabs into her upper body with quick strikes.

Chickfighter lurches repeatedly, taking a terrific beating, with no air to be knocked out of her after the first three punches, a couple landing like the crack of gunshots.

Brute sits up, grabs the heroine by her head and then repeatedly smashes the back of her head into the metal that was the top of the Vega!

Chickfighter struggles desperately to wriggle out from under her foe only to be caught by the hair. Her head is used to hammer the shape out of the car body until she seems to be watching little birdies flying about it.

Brute sits up and grabs the sides of the top of the Vega, bending the car's roof around her, mashing and squeezing the metal as he tries to form a tight tube to entrap Chickfighter.

“Ow ow ow ow... ohmygurk... wha... urk... you... doing...” Chickfighter struggles frantically, trying to wriggle free of the twisted metal.

Brute laughs as he looks down on the entrapped heroine. "Where is a tow truck when we need one?"

Chickfighter gasps for air, her writhing becoming more and more desperate.

Brute looks down the street and spots a monster truck. "Or I could just run you over with that thing!"

“Just wait... until I break free... of this Vega!”

Imoen looks over a chick wondering what’s up.

Brute lumbers over towards the monster truck.

Chickfighter blinks. “Err...”

Samsoni frowns at Chickys predicament.

Brute bashes the driver of the monster truck, grabbing the keys and then hopping inside.

Chickfighter gulps.

Brute starts up the monster truck and works with the gear shift, grinding them badly a couple of times as he really sucks at driving a stick shift.

Chickfighter strains with all her might but the metal bites into her pink clad form, pinning elbows to tiny waist, catching against her modest cleavage, heaving with effort.

Brute gets the monster truck into first gear, lurching the big vehicle forwards and then nearly stalling it out before getting it rolling and building some momentum.

Chickfighter turns her head as the monster truck lurches, the eyes behind her mask getting as big as oceans.

Kurt Malkomes observes, “Funny how when he's finally needed Vanguard is nowhere to be found.”

Brute shifts into second gear, barreling through an intersection and bearing down on the Vega.

Chickfighter redoubles her squirming, desperate to avoid becoming flat Chicky.

Lady Behemoth wonders if she should help out.

Brute steers to the right, pointing the nose of the monster truck at the Vega.

Imoen whispers a chant moving her hands sending blast of wind to knock the truck off course.

Samsoni mimicks, “Crushus interuptus…”

Chickfighter screams in terror and sucks in her gut more than she thought possible, wriggling free, ignoring the ripping sound as the pink fabric hung on ragged metal tries to keep her prisoner, tearing free of costume and metal all at once.

Lady Behemoth gets out the censor bars.

Brute sneers and steers the truck through the wind. The wheels of the monster truck start to rise upon the hood of the car, beady eyes narrowing in anger as the heroine slips away and the monster truck crushes what was left of the Vega before driving away.

Kurt Malkomes protects his virgin eyes.

Samsoni peeks. “Oh my!”

Brute shakes a fist as he drives away. "I'll get you Chickfighter!"

Brute has left the channel.

Chickfighter rolls out from the advance of a crushing wheel, covering her tightly jiggling boobies with black gloves, before looking down, cheeks blushing fore and aft as she runs off toward the DDSTV Tower. “I'll get you next time!”

Samsoni nods with eye roll. “You showed him alright…”

Batgirl runs over to the naked Chickfighter offering her cape to cover up with.

Chickfighter is sprinting too quickly for home for anyone to see anything but her blushing backside. She looks back over a shoulder. “Thanks anyway, Batgirl.”

(August 2008)