Travis Rides Again!

Hall Of Fame!

Survival - 8 Wins!

Brutal - 1 Fatalities


Alignment: Hero

Team: Solo Hero


Strength: Superior

Agility: Weak

Mind: Superior

Body: Standard


Personal Wins: 8

Personal Losses: 3

Mr. Kite

Kite sat in front of his computer. Notepad stared blankly at him, and he stared back with equal blankness. "Nothing's coming." he muttered. He had been staring at notepad with the same blank stare every night for at least 10 minutes every day for the last week. Beforehand he had just shrugged off not making characters by saying that he was taking a hiatus. Truth of the matter is he had lost his edge. I mean... his last two characters were "writer's block," and "Landon sux." This is not the mark of a multi-time Hall of Fame contender here. Not being able to actually think of an idea, as par the course, he went for a walk. A walk through Khazan is certainly an interesting thing. Why, just the other day he had seen an enraged Semi-Rational Penguin take down an entire pub. It was common knowledge that the martini there was a little too dry anyway; it was bound to happen really. Oh and then there had been the other day when Dodge "I Win Battles By Being A Name Dropper And The Author Is Being A Hypocrite." Murphy drove by in a high-speed car chase. The person standing next to Kite was shot by a stray bullet. Someone obviously forgot to take points in their defense powers. Rookie mistake, that one. Along the way Kite ran into some friends of his. You know, those other Self-Inserts that just sit there collecting dust in the Hall of Fame. Kite talking about not being able to create a character effectively creates an induced sleep bio vampire power combo. This was not the morale boost Kite hoped for. He kept walking, and then...then he found himself standing directly in front of the arena. His days of battling had been so long ago. He walked into the arena - not by his own will but by some force far greater than all of us yet lesser than The Powers That Be, contrived plot. There sat a lonely receptionist chewing her gum idly and twirling her hair. Ah, the classic absent-minded bimbo extra character for flavoring, not very creative but it does in a pinch. He looked over the list idly as she chewed gum in her oh-so stereotypical "I'm bored of this job sign up and leave me alone" manner. While looking at the list, a thought flashed into his mind: What a bunch of no-named talentless hacks! Why, in his day he had battled such amazing characters as Turkeyzilla! Now, there was a battle! Why I bet none of these chumps ever turned an entire city into cranberry dressing. It's hard to tell if it was boredom, insanity, or desperation that made Kite sign the list, but it was likely a little of all of the above. Or maybe he just wanted to vote against Try Honest; he really did hate that song....

Ah, ever the caffeine-drinking game-obsessive "Oh dear God I have no talent please kill me now!" slacker. If you're asking for more you're looking too hard. In the time of chimpanzees I was a monkey. Butane in my veins and I'm out to cut the junkie with the plastic eyeballs, spray-paint the vegetables. Dog food stalls with the beefcake pantyhose. Kill the headlights and put it in neutral. Stock car flamin' with a loser and the cruise control. Baby's in Reno with the vitamin D. Got a couple of couches, sleep on the love seat. Someone came in sayin' I'm insane to complain about a shotgun wedding and a stain on my shirt. Don't believe everything that you breathe. You get a parking violation and a maggot on your sleeve. So shave your face with some mace in the dark. Savin' all your food stamps and burnin' down the trailer park. Yo, cut it. Soy un perdedor. I'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me? I'm a driver, I'm the winner. Things are gonna change I can feel it.


     Paralysis: Supreme

  • Auto-Hit Attack
  • Area Affect


Khazan was truly a learning experience for me. Mostly it taught me that doing absolutely nothing is the best way to get things done. Look at MMGHAM. He died about a billion years ago, was taken down, and now somehow Eric is like some sort of lost relic. On the occasion he pops his head in people tell him he should get back to writing he considers it walks off and goes back to what he does. I know the guy and let me tell you; MMGHAM was no novel idea. But through sheer force of nothing people worship the idea. Not only this, but I got to spend some time with Landon himself. He slacks with the anti-effort of a God. His ability to delay a project and tell you it will be done tomorrow is astounding. Then, as if from nowhere, it is done. I am no king of slack, but I revel in my lack of ambition. I find that a lot of people I fight really when you get down to it aren't bad guys. Sometimes they too need to relax, which is cool. My last battle, the guy came up, I said "hey, want to play a little F-Zero?" and we were off. It's that easy man.


The Demon Bird

     Beast Master: Superior


You think she's cute, don't you? Small yellow lovebird twittering away happily in her cage in the corner of my room. Oh yeah, get closer. Try to pet her. That's right, go ahead and let your guard down. You should know that is no mere mortal bird. She is a hell-kite. Demon spawn winged avenger. You can call her Buddy; I call her the essence of evil. Go ahead, pet her. I promise when you are done you will have no hand.



     Beast Master: Superior


Buddy herself is a peach-faced lovebird. I call her a miniature chocobo. She can fit in the palm of your hand, and is possibly the cutest creature in all of existence when she wants to be. My bird has a taste for sunflower seeds and human flesh. It makes feeding her awkward. I wish every day that I had never let her watch Little Shop of Horrors; it only gave her ideas...


93 Oldsmobile Cutlass Siera

     Vehicle: Standard


This is my baby. Call her unwashed, because she is. I don't honestly care. There's a speaker out in the back, and one in the front kinda craps out on bass, but that's all right. Don't mind the missing headlight either; I'll fix it when I have the money. This piece of crap is my ride. I could not live without it. Don't think I won't go GTA on you in it, 'cause I will. This baby is a tank of a car I tell you. It's hit its fair share of telephone poles, and other than a cracked bumper you can't tell.


Quick Trip Energy Drink

     Berserker: Standard


You're drinking WHAT?! WHAT?! Rooster Booster?! What sort of MORON drinks that #^$^? It tastes like lukewarm urine and provides the energy of...well, not a lot of it, but it doesn't provide much! Now come over here. I can bring you to the Promised Land, brother. Now, see this? This... is a fountain drink area. Oh, it hides behind a humble disguise, but that's just to fool the un-ready. Now, take a cup...oh what the hell's wrong with you? 24-ounce cup? Be a man. No! Not even the quart cup. You need to reach way up there and pull out the gaping bucket that is the double quart. That's it, good boy. Now, some ice. Good, hit of vanilla...not too much...perfect! Now, fill it TO THE BRIM with energy drink. Yeah, keep going...keep going... Good. Now, stir it with a straw - NEVER shake - and enjoy. Remember, people who sleep can't play video games.