Fight 1: An Ultimate Fighting Champion who’s trying to live-Tweet the fight to his one million followers VS a pterodactyl who controls magnetism and is armed with an orgasm ray in a gun store, which is on fire

Stephen Gulik

Marco Valencia was not to be fucked with. He wouldn’t key your car, he’d beat the fuck out of it with his bare hands then poop on the hood. He once raped a puppy just to see the look of sadness on the face of a child whose father had nabbed his parking spot. Each of his million Twitter followers would tell you that this dude was fucking crazy, but this time crazy might not be enough.

“Quit your fucking hovering.” Marco’s stare could scare the fat out of milk, but the pterodactyl was unflappable.

It was standing less than two feet behind him smelling like carrion and Great Value cologne. How was he supposed to focus on the target with an eight-foot lizard breathing down his neck?

“Bitch, I will grind my crotch on your face till I cum, then tear your head off and use it as a dildo while I butt-fuck your girlfriend.”

The people sharing the shooting range had been uneasy since the pterodactyl walked in with a weird, futuristic rifle flung over its wing. It was unsettling on many levels. Not the least of which was the sheer confusion as to why a pterodactyl would have a rifle. They don’t have hands. And where did he get the dino-sized strap for a human-sized gun? In any case, the half-naked, heavily-tattooed man shouting at it was making them exponentially more nervous.

Marco was in the first lane, right by the exit. Nobody was brave enough to walk past them, so they quietly reloaded their guns and pondered which one of them it would be prudent to shoot.

The winged lizard cocked its head sideways, leering as if to say, “I’m not really hungry, but I’m going to eat you, anyway.”

The cocky bastard was just sitting there, smiling at everything Marco said. He didn’t seem to think a puny human was a threat, but Marco would show him.

Marco whipped out his phone and took a selfie flipping the pterodactyl off then quickly typed, “I’m gonna KEEEL this guy!!!!!”

He set it to stream video and used the kickstand to prop it on the little table, then wheeled around and pistol whipped the scaly bastard right between the eyes. It reared back and opened its beak, trilling from deep in its throat.

“What? You want some? I’m an Ultimate Fighter, motherfucker!”

A heavyset man wearing a short-sleeved, button-up flag-shirt dialed the police. Before they could answer, his phone flew from his hand and exploded against Marco’s temple. Tiny shards of glass stuck in his nose and eyebrow, then his hand as he instinctively brushed them away.

Marco turned to the group cowering on the far side of the room. “Which one of you did that?”

Everyone looked at flag-guy.

“Why did you do that?”

The man laughed nervously. “I didn’t throw it. It just sorta flew out of my hand. Sorry ‘bout that.”

“You will taste my cock!”

The pterodactyl poked him in the sternum leaving a puncture would about the size of a .22.

“Fuck you!” He raised his 9mm., but instead of pointing at the lizard, it kept going up, flew out of his hands and disappeared into the ceiling tiles.

The pterodactyl laughed at him.

“What? You got some kind of dinosaur telekinesis?”

A man wearing a baseball cap that read “Badass Snowflake” interjected. “You sound racist. Why was it necessary to say dinosaur?”

Marco glowered at him. “You will not taste my cock. You would enjoy it too much.”

“And now the homophobia.”

The pterodactyl poked Marco in the chest again.

“Oww! Stop doing that!” He lunged at the pterodactyl and slammed his fist into the side of its head sending it flying like a tetherball. As it came around the other side, he jerked his elbow back into the creature’s eye socket.

The beast let out a squawk of pain and wobbled on its spindly little legs.

Marco landed a jumping spin kick followed by a tackle. He straddled its neck and ground his rage boner into its trachea while unleashing a flurry of fevered blows. His large bony hands could pound cinder blocks to dust, but the creature’s skull was dense, more like metal than bone.

His knuckles were shredded and bleeding, so when the woman screamed, “Stop! You’re going to kill him.” he did.

“You are correct.” He got up, walked over to his phone, and typed, “told ya”, then took a couple more selfies with his victim as it flapped its wings like a bird who’d flown into a window.

The others quickly grabbed their shit and headed for the door, but Marco stopped them. “You should all stay for the encore. I have not yet fucked this patriot’s mouth.”

The guns went up faster than a nun’s panties.

“You think bullets can hurt me? I am a god of death. Did you not just see me beat up a pterodactyl?

Flag-guy cocked his pistol. “All the same, I reserve the right to give you a tickle.”

Marco puffed out his chest and leaned into the barrel. “Do it, fag boy! Tickle my fancy!”

A long, pointy beak appeared between the star-spangled and stripy parts of the man’s shirt, then opened, ripping a 3×24 inch gash in his chest. The pterodactyl jerked his head, and the man flew down the lane spraying blood like a deflating balloon.

All guns turned on the beast and fired rapidly, but the bullets curved around it like there was a forcefield. The guns flew from their hands and spun like they were caught in a tornado, whipping the shit out of them like Rudy Ray Moore. It was brutal, teeth and eyes flying everywhere. As their flesh was pulverized into a pink mash, blood spread out to join the pool down the lane. Only Marco was unaffected.

Marco waited calmly for the creature’s attention, taking a few selfies and scratching the holes in his chest. After a while, he got bored and pulled a Molotov Cocktail out of his bag.

Lighting it, he asked, “How now, brown Lizard?” He was about to throw it when a crippling orgasm brought him to his knees. He dropped the cocktail, which shattered at his feet and set his legs on fire.

“Fuck!” The orgasms kept coming as he tried to crawl out of the fire on his elbows. Each one hit his prostate like a Kung-Fu master’s fist.

His cum was not wet enough to shield his manties from the fire. Soon, he was naked with third-degree burns over most of his body. Lots of pain, but the orgasms balanced it out. He wondered if he might like S&M.

The pterodactyl loomed over him with its glowing fuck-cannon whirring away. Ignoring the flames licking at its feet, it walked over and took a big, steamy dump on Marco’s chest.

“Fine, you win. You wanna snuggle?”

The beast clawed a long gash in Marco’s right leg and pulled out a quadricep with its beak.

“Hey, that’s by kicking muscle.” His vision darkened as every nerve in his body reported that something was horribly wrong. A great sucking pain enveloped his mind.

The pterodactyl perched on his chest and munched happily while Marco tried desperately to breathe. His adrenal gland squeezed out the last of its juice, and everything came back into focus. When it went for his other leg, Marco grabbed its head and slammed it against the marble step.

“You know, I recognize you now. You’re the guy that bought four Frosties and ran the machine out the other day. I really wanted a Frosty.”

The lizard squawked angrily and trigged his orgasm ray. Marco’s cock dry-heaved, feeling like it might turn inside out.

“Ahh! Fuck you!”

It slashed his right arm open and ripped out his bicep.

Marco went into shock and watched the fire creep into the ceiling tiles. The fire alarm let out a piercing whoop, but the sprinklers didn’t come on.

The owner came running down the steps. He immediately screamed, “Holy shit!” and ran back up.

As flaming tiles began to rain from the ceiling, Marco wrapped his left hand around the pterodactyl’s toe and snapped it backward. The bastard screamed and tried to hop away, but Marco’s hand was like a hydraulic press. It tripped and fell backward into the flames as Marco twisted the toe back and forth mercilessly.

“Cortana, live broadcast!” He scooched with his one good leg until he was close enough to sink his teeth into the meat of its leg.

The pterodactyl screamed and raked its other leg across Marco’s face like a cat scratching fleas. After five or six kicks, his face looked like a fistful of spaghetti. But still, he chomped. The lizard’s skin was too thick to bite through, but the pinching was definitely pissing it off.

The pterodactyl regained its focus. The guns jumped up and fired into Marco’s left arm until it resembled a stocking full of ground beef that had been left on the highway. The beast kicked him loose and struggled to its feet, squawking victoriously. A tile fell on its head and exploded in a halo of sparks. It turned toward the phone and winked, then dug its beak into Marco’s stomach and flung his guts about like a happy puppy destroying a pillow.

Marco left his body.

A bright light appeared above him, and he began to float toward it.

“Fuck that noise,” he thought as he willed his soul into the pterodactyl. Dinosaurs have no soul, so it wasn’t hard to take it over. The light disappeared as Marcus raised his wings in victory and peed all over his corpse.

Winner: The Indomitable Human Spirit!