Chapter Text
It was a bright and sunny noon in the land of Ooo. The beachside near the ocean shone in all of its natural beauty. The sand and water reflected the overhead sunlight, giving the coast a luminous grace. Usually such a perfect day at such a perfect location called for laying a blanket, unfolding some chairs, perhaps even going for a swim. Today was not such a day however. Instead, the shoreline was littered with crowds of Ooozers from far and wide, slowly gathering around a rather large stage. Nobody was there for relaxation, but rather for one of the most anticipated rap offs since the Flame Queen's last victory against the famous Son of Rap Bear who had been radio silent for the last two years.
Despite there being little word on the dethroned rap sensation, his recent challenge against Phoebe for a rematch caused word to run rampant through just about any civilized part of Ooo, drawing one of the most massive crowds of people that Finn had ever laid eyes upon. There were easily guests in the thousands, littering the beach. Even if he had tried, Finn wouldn't be able to see the sand that they all stood on through the density of the rowdy horde. Coolers full of iced beverages were handed around. Umbrellas were planted in the sand as the thousands of anxious visitors claimed their spots for the viewing, careening to snatch up a patch of sand as close to the stage as possible. Finn couldn't help but emulate the crowd's restless energy, evident by the uncontrolled tapping of his foot and his struggle to patiently wait for the anticipated rap battle to begin.
There were visitors in the likes of which the human had never seen before and he was sure that he had already explored almost every corner of Ooo within his time as a hero. Giant cretaceous creatures from the Crab Kingdom crawled out of the ocean, accompanied by a plethora of sentient clams and fishy humanoids which bore a striking resemblance to the "humans" that Finn and Jake stumbled upon when they had first met Kara or "Susan" at the time. It sort of made sense though, even if he had partially overcome his deathly fear of the ocean, Finn would certainly never take the time out of his day to willingly explore it. There were likely many other fantastical places or civilizations deep on that abyssal seafloor that Finn had never laid eyes on.
He assumed that he knew what he'd signed up for when agreeing to partake in this innovative form of rap battle, but the sheer size of the audience and new faces made a pearl of sweat form upon Finn's head. More than satisfied with his snooping, Finn pulled his peering head back behind the stage where a much smaller crowd of individuals gathered around like a cloistered click of clucking hens. Anyone standing behind the stage was made up mostly of lighting and sound technicians, event coordinators, and the DJ. Straining his eyes to peer past the candy people hauling stereos and the flame people passing around extremely flammable fireworks, Finn could see Jake, talking the DJ's ear off. He ambled over towards his canine brother.
"Look man, I think you mean that the beat goes like 'bum bidum bum bum'." The DJ said quizzically.
"Nah dude. I'm certain it goes 'boom boom buduboom boom'" Jake countered, resting his hands on his hips with an irritated expression.
"Beep beep boop bop?"
"Boop Boop Beep Beep Boop!?"
"Beep… Bop?" The back and forth ended abruptly once Finn had closed in on them.
"Yo yo Jake! What're you up to over here?" Jake stopped his little stare down with the DJ before twisting his neck to address Finn. Meanwhile, said DJ quietly tiptoed away from them until he disappeared deeper behind stage.
"Oh hey Finn. I was just askin this guy if he could help me remember this super catchy song I heard." Jake said, pointing at the now empty spot where the DJ once stood. "He keeps arguing with me about the way it sounds though." Jake turned his head back around to find that the guy was now missing. "Aww man!"
"Aw dang, well better luck next time bro." Finn said. He turned his gaze back towards the roaring noise of the ever growing crowd, looking back at Jake with a nervous frown before grabbing the yellow dog by the arms, shaking him slightly. "Dude! That crowd out there is absolutely bananers! I'm kinda getting the heebee jeebees here." Jake stretched his arms out and grabbed Finn by the cheeks. He literally lifted his brother's mouth from a frown to a smile.
"Chillax dude. You've got absolutely nothin to be worried about. This whole thing here? This is just a cake walk compared to the crazy stuff that you have done already. For cryin out loud, you had me dip your head in a volcano before!"
"Well, when you put it that way-" Finn tried saying while Jake was still contorting his mouth into a smile. Finn took Jake's hands and moved them off of his face. "Ya ok. I'm probably just over complicating this whole sitch." Jake closed his eyes and shook his head up and down in agreement.
"You and FQ are gonna kill this thing dude. Y'all are gonna kill it and bury it! You hear!?" Jake encouraged.
"Hahaha I hear you man." Jake looked Finn up and down, seeming rather dissatisfied with something.
"Finn, you oughta change your wardrobe. I get the whole 'bad buns adventurer' getup, but you're a rap artist today brotha. You need to look the part." Finn could only reply with a befuddled look at Jake's cursory statement.
"What are you talking about? I wear this all the time no matter what I'm doing. You know that." Finn asked quizzically. Jake responded with a simple "tisk" and extended a finger to point at Finn.
"I get that Finn. What makes this different is the scale of this event. It's all about the presentation man, the drip." Jake finished, raising his arms.
"What the hay is 'drip'?" Finn asked. Jake scrunched his face, scratching at his chin.
"It's kinda like a 'fashion statement', modded out getups that let all the peeps know you mean biz, big biz." Jake crossed his arms and stared into Finn's eyes, raising his eyebrows up and down. "Luckily for you, I came prepared. Now… feast your fashion deprived eyeballs on this!" Jake pulled out two pairs of retro shutter shades. Each of them was decorated with random jewels that Jake appeared to have attached to one of specs with craft glue. The other pair looked metallic with the jewels hastily welded in. "Yours were pretty straight forward. FQ's shades took a bit longer. She'd burn right through the plastic so I just melted down some scrap metal from the Candy Kingdom junkyard and molded it into shades as best I could. The jewels were even more flippin hard to attach… And before you ask where I got the jewels, we have mountains of treasure back at home."
Anyone who looked at the shades would think that a drunk goblin with all thumbs threw the things together, but to Finn, they were the most radical pairs of eyewear he had ever laid eyes upon. He excitedly took the two pairs of blinged out shades from Jake's hands with an uncontrollable smile. "Jake, These are alphanumeric! Heck, I'll keep wearing these bad boys after this whole thing blows over!" A loud gratuitous bout of cheering, piercing the air from out in front of the stage caused Finn and Jake to scan the source of the noise. The distant sounds of the hype man on the mic could be heard, though unclearly, from behind the stage. The announcer was prepping the audience for the start of the competition.
One of the stage hands, a candy cane guy with a lanyard and ID hanging around his neck, waved over at Finn. "That's your queue! Don't keep the crowd waiting!"
Finn's eyes widened slightly as he looked back to jake."Well I should get this other pair to Phoebe. She'll think they're dope." As Finn turned to pace towards the grandstand, Jake stretched his head in front of his path to stop him.
"Uh uh uh! Hold on." Jake pulled out a basic blue cap and set it over Finn's head, facing backwards. "Much better. Now you look the part."
"Where are you gonna be when the contest starts anyway?" Finn asked. Jake finished messing with the angle of Finn's now secondary hat.
"Oh, I'll be with you guys the whole time. Think of me as your 'coach' or somethin, I don't know." Jake said, shrugging his shoulders. Jake gave Finn a light smack on the back before stretching out of the way.
"Go get em tiger! Remember, you already got this in the bag!" Jake shouted to Finn and crossed his arms as he made his way towards the front of the stage where the entangled and cacophonous masses awaited.
Stepping up onto the front of the stage itself, Finn realized just how much the design of the main platform resembled a boxing ring. That's because it was, as a matter of fact, a literal boxing ring, placed right smack center of the stage. Phoebe was sitting on a stool at one corner of the ring, mouthing what Finn could only surmise was potential comebacks, roasts, and other forms of lyrical strategy. She was sporting a fiery bright Orange tracksuit, complimented by a golden chain that hung around her neck with the Initials FQ dangling at the bottom. He glanced at the crowd for a brief period of time, steeling himself.
The announcer, to Finn's surprise was BMO, standing on a stool at the center of the boxing ring, reaching his arm up into the air with a strained little shake. The game bot was wearing an afro too big for his small blocky head. The mic descended slowly by a cord, landing softly into BMO's elevated hand.
"Rappets and rappers! I, your Bodacious Musical Overlord, have brought to you the finest adventurer in the land of Ooo! Give it up for… Finn the Human!" The crowd erupted into an animalistic frenzy of fanfare.
Climbing onto the edge of the ring and maneuvering himself through the ropes, Finn leaned against the elastic barrier, right next to where Phoebe was sitting, causing her to silence her murmurs and turn her attention towards him. The determination and fiery spirit that glistened in her eyes told that she was all but ready for the grandiose rematch. "Are you ready to show these bozos what we're made of Finn?"
Finn couldn't help but mirror her confidence. "You bet I am! They won't know what hit them. I've got so many rhymes in my cerebral arsenal, that their dome pieces won't be able to comprehend it " He said. Phoebe's grin was borderline barbarous. She punched the palm of her hand, twisting her fist around in it as the flames of her body erupted into the air for a brief moment.
"I'm gonna grind that bear into powder! He's got some nerve, challenging me to a rematch and I'll sure as hell give him one." It was abundantly clear that Phoebe had taken Son of Rap Bear's demand for a rematch personally. Everything About this contest was personal. Two years had the ex champion been silent, only to publicly denounce Phoebe's title and challenge her once again. Hoping to steer her away from burning down the stage by accident, Finn pulled out the pair of shades that Jake had made for Phoebe and held them out to her. Taking in the sight of them, she unclenched her fist, letting her hands fall to the side as she stared at the glasses in wonder.
"Jake made these dope specs for us to wear. This is your pair." Finn held them out even further, gesturing for her to take them. Just as her earlier heated competitiveness had created an impression on Finn, his beaming smile helped her flames to shrink back to their normal size. With the same gleeful gesture, Phoebe gently took the shades from him, allowing herself a moment to feel them in her hands, to admire them. Every gift from one of her dear friends was a treasure in her eyes and she cherished their time together.
"I love them… I'm gonna have to thank Jake after this is over." She said fondly, holding the shades close to her chest before lifting her head to look at Finn. "And Finn… Thanks for- uhh…" By the time she looked at Finn again, he was already wearing his own pair of matching shades. His arms were crossed with his chest puffed out. He had his lips awkwardly pursed like he was trying to give his best "bad boy" impression, all while retaining a straight face. A spontaneous laughter flared from Phoebe's vocal cords as she clutched her sides. Not being able to maintain his mock indifference, Finn started to laugh as well. After their fit of giggling had waned, Phoebe slipped on her new pair of shades and copied Finn's earlier comportment, crossing her arms over her chest and theatrically spinning her head around in his direction.
"How do I look?" She asked, purposefully deepening her voice. A snort escaped Finn.
"I wouldn't wanna go against you, that's for sure." Finn jested, holding both his hands up in an act of surrender. They continued to crack jokes to one another as time passed.
Phoebe periodically looked at the clock that hung above center stage. It was 10 minutes past the scheduled time at which Son of Rap Bear and Rotisserie Bob were expected to make their entrance but they were nowhere to be seen. She restlessly paced back and forth like a torrent of irritability and impatience, huffing through her nose as her flames flickered with each stomp of her foot. Finn and Jake dawdled in the corner of the ring, playing rock paper scissors with each other while Cinnamon Bun, wearing a black security jacket and a heavily tinted pair of sunglasses stood right outside the ropes, watching them intently. Bun Bun, wearing his own little security outfit, sat perched atop Cinnamon Bun's head, mimicking the movements of Finn and Jake's hands with his own tiny mitts.
Finn and Jake continued throwing their hands forward, one brother winning a round only for the other to win the next.
"Ok this'll be the tie breaker, Jake. You ready?"
"Oh, I'm ready alright!" Jake elevated his fist into the air above his head like he was ready to hammer in a nail. Finn followed suit.
"ROCK PAPER SCISSORS SHOOT!" "ROCK PAPER SCISSORS SHOOT!"
They shouted over each other before launching their arms forward. Jake's hand stuck out in the stretched shape of scissors and Finn's ever victorious hand floated in the air beside it as a fist.
"Yes!" Finn closed his lids with a smug grin, somewhat shaking his head. "Sorry Jake, looks like you wont be getting any of my Finn cakes today." He opened his eyes to find Jake standing there with a robotic expression, sparking Finn to look back down and find that Jake's hand was now morphed into the shape of paper.
"What the zip!? Hey! That's cheating dude…"
Jake rounded his eyebrows as if confused. "What are you talking about man? I played paper."
"No you didn't! You played scissors. You changed it while I wasn't paying attention!"
"Exactly dude. You weren't paying any attention. If you did, you'd grok that I played paper, not scissors." Jake persisted.
Finn shot his gaze towards Cinnamon Bun and Bun Bun. Undoubtedly, they had to be watching the entire time right? "CB, Bun Bun. You guys saw him change what he played right?" Finn pointed at Jake accusingly.
Cinnamon Bun squinted his clueless gooey eyes, grunting in strained thought. "...N-no, I don't remember Jake's hand changing. Then again, these sunglasses are really hard to see through."
Finn scoffed disbelievingly and transitioned his troubled gaze to Bun Bun who appeared all too excited to give his two cents.
"Ooh! Ooh! I saw it! I saw it!"
"Great! See Jake? You've been caught red handed." Finn relaxed his shoulders and crossed his arms, regaining his aura of confidence knowing his suspicions had been vindicated.
"No siree. Jake played paper."
"Looks like I most definitely am nomming on a Finn cake tonight brotha!" Jake laughed maniacally, increasing the size of his hand and ruffling the top of Finn's head. Finn planted his hands on his knees, leaning forward with a rancorous half lidded stare aimed at none other than Jake. His next words forebode future conflict between the brothers.
"I won't forget this… My Finn cakes will be avenged…"
Cinnamon Bun stepped down off the outside of the ring and strolled towards the staircase where Finn had entered onto the stage initially. "I'll catch you guys later. Me and Bun Bun gotta go do our jobs and make sure no hammered idiots try to wander up here when things get crazy." Cinnamon Bun and little Bun Bun waved bye to Finn and Jake, growing further away.
The sound of roaring flames made the brothers crank their necks in the opposite direction. Phoebe was livid. Dark scorch marks were left where she had been pacing back and forth repeatedly. Her fists clenched like vices while her eyes distorted in unison with her enraged inferno.
"AAAAGGH! What is taking those jerkwads so long! First, those donks challenge me to a contest after bad mouthing me! Now they don't even bother to show up on time!"
Finn cautiously tiptoed towards Phoebe who was currently too preoccupied with her own indignation. He didn't have a protective coat of flame shield so extremely close proximity to his volatile friend was risky. It was at times like this however, that Finn was glad to have an artificial limb, far sturdier than flesh. He reached out and rested his robotic hand on her shoulder, causing her to flinch.
"Hey, it can't all be bad biscuits right? Don't we win by default if they don't roll up soon?" He understood that it wasn't the most rewarding way to achieve victory, but there wasn't really much else to say that'd simmer her heated nerves. She was understandably upset. More than a month of practicing and preparing, all for nothing to happen as a result. BMO stood up on the stool, the oversized afro he'd been wearing, sliding over his cracked screen. He pointed in a random direction rather than at the disgruntled participants.
"Bodacious Musical Overlord says that Finn and Flame win by default in one minute! Oh no! The disappointment! Yay for winning!" BMO declared, his chirping echoing across the beach through the plethora of speakers that decorated the grandstand. The crowd grumbled, their voices raised with dissatisfied boos and complaints. The clock ticked down, the provided minute of remaining time dwindling. Phoebe had moved past her recent bout of intimidating anger, devolving into a dark maroon, almost purple shade of color, slumping her shoulders forward. A dragged out sigh escaped from her as she kept her eyes glued to the floor.
"Ya… I know… I just wish we didn't have to win like this. It feels like the endless hours of you and I practicing together was all for nothing… Makes me feel like dirtballs." She said weakly.
There was a continued silence between them. Finn racked his brain for anything to say that would alleviate her melancholy. She was right. They had both spent a considerable amount of their time hanging out and preparing for this rematch. Then it clicked… Yes, the rap battle may never come to pass, but that didn't take away from the undeniable truth that they had fun together, having a good laugh or catching each other up on how their days went between brainstorming. At the very least, Finn knew he had fun.
"...We had a good time though, right? I wouldn't call that a complete waste."
Phoebe's fire regained the faintest bit of its orange luminosity from his declaration. She lifted her head and looked at him, the hint of a smile starting to tug at the corners of her lips. "You're right, I did have fun. I guess this wasn't a complete waste of time." She said, her voice gradually regaining more enthusiasm with each word.
As the clock reached the 20 second countdown, the sky darkened as a thick canvas of clouds rolled in, blocking out the sun. Murmurs and hushed confusion littered the beach as everyone tilted their heads back to analyze the sudden intrusion of clouds. These were not ordinary clouds however. Faint beams of light flickered inside of the white poofy veil. The distant beat of club music permeated the clouds above, allowing the realization to sink in. It was the Cloud Kingdom, but why did the Cloud Kingdom, now of all times, parade over the beach?
"AAAAWOOOOOOOOO!"
A powerful voice boomed from the heavens shortly before a hole in the clouds opened up, causing a beam of sunlight to shoot through the blockage of poofy white. Everyone squinted their eyes. A ludicrously long limo, glistening in a golden magical glow, shot through the break in the clouds, hurtling towards the beach like a homing missile with sparkles trailing behind it. Despite the vehicle's alarming speed, the front hood of the flying limo came to a halt just in time for its bumper to lightly rest against the floor of the boxing ring. Nobody moved or said anything as they gawked at the endlessness of the transportation. Its back end was still yet to be seen, stretching all the way up into the Cloud Kingdom despite the front end of the car making contact with the ground.
A door on the side of the limousine, facing Phoebe and Finn, swung open, a royal red carpet rolling out of the interior and onto the floor. Something along the lines of smoke or mist pooled out from within the limo, obstructing their view of the inside. Bass-heavy music escaped from within the chassis as the smoke slowly faded away. The first thing Finn saw was a huddled together group of cloud babes, giggling and cheering from within the car. This was followed by a man emerging from the door, confidently striding through the smoke until his figure was revealed. It was the rotisserie sensation himself. His face had a light pink shade in contrast to the golden brown and oversized juicy rotisserie chicken he wore like a suit. Long strings of drool were already falling from Jake's mouth while he smacked his lips, swirls in his eyes appearing as if he were hypnotized.
"M-Must… resist… flavor…" Jake shuttered, desperately trying to restrain himself from assaulting the appetizing chicken that stood at the opposite end of the ring.
A ridiculously tall and sleek perm sat atop his head, almost as bright blonde as Finn's hair despite the fact that it looked dyed. He was wearing golden rimmed aviators that only amplified the pompous energy of his face. Rotisserie Bob's lips sat in a naturally puckered shape. Each turn of his head gave an exaggerated side profile of his almost butt shaped chin. In all honesty, the chicken suited figure's face bore a striking resemblance to Ricardio the Heart Guy, minus the butt chin and extravagant perm. Finn was already apprehensive about making acquaintance with the man. Resting the tip of his chicken wing arm on his hip, Rotisserie Bob pointed to the adoring cloud girls inside the limo, opening his mouth into a wide grin, revealing a few shiny golden teeth.
"Ladies! ladies! Please... I'll be back later once I've gotten that sweet trophy. Be sure not to precipitate before I get back." He said with a smug note in his voice, causing the cloudy women inside the limousine to scream and cheer. Finn and Phoebe could only look at one another with equally perplexed stares, before looking back towards the newcomer. Rotisserie Bob moved one foot in front of the other, well if you could call them feet that is. They were actually chicken bones, extending from his plump chicken legs. His chicken wing remained placed on his hip while he stiletto walked in the direction of the human and fire elemental. Coming to a stop before them, Rotisserie Bob looked back and forth with a rather disgusted utterance.
"Shmow, what a dump." He said amply.
"Hey man."
Rotisserie Bob quickly looked toward Finn who was extending his hand towards the plump chicken man. Finn's act of good sportsmanship was a gesture that seemed foreign to him.
"You're Rotisserie Bob, right? I'm Finn. Nice to meet ya."
Finn's offered hand was smacked off to the side, eliciting a gasp from the crowd and a grossed out shake from Finn's hand, chicken grease now sliming his fingers. "Aw gross…" Finn could feel the heat of someone's flames intensifying beside him.
"It's Bob Rotisserie to you, poo eating pleb. Let's not beat around the shrubs huh? I'm here to destroy the two of you and add yet another trophy to my absolutely bloobatious trophy room." Rotisserie Bob said, sneering at Finn.
"Well, I hate to disappoint you, but you're gonna get a lot more than you bargained for, Bob Rotisserie!" Phoebe snarled, taking a few powerful steps until she was inches away from Bob. "What took you dillweeds so long to show up anyway? Get lost or something?"
Bob, unphased by Phoebe's attempt at intimidation, gave a smug grin, tilting his head to the side as he challenged her gaze. "It's called being fashionably late sweetheart. Maybe if you didn't live under that molten slag rock you call a castle, you'd be able to comprehend that."
Finn took a few steps back, expecting Phoebe to roast Rotisserie Bob like backyard barbecue. To his surprise, she only replied with a defiant smirk, stepping away from him and crossing her arms. "I'm gonna enjoy making you eat every word you just spouted out of your dumb mouth."
"Where the stuff is Son of Rap Bear? We can't participate in a 2v2 without the fourth guy, genius." Finn added with newfound bitterness towards the blinged out chicken. Rotisserie Bob huffed and cupped his little wings over his mouth, shouting towards the limousine.
"Yo! Bear Boy! Stop smooching on nimbus lips and get yo tall butt out here!"
"Pfffft! Tall? That guy?" Phoebe threw in as Finn simultaneously gave her a nod in agreement.
"Hahaha! Ya, tall isn't the way I'd describe him. Dudes of his stature are in short suppl-... HOOOLLLLLLY SHEEPBALLS!"
A sizable bionic leg, covered in lavish gold plating and diamond crested inlines, extended outwards from the inside of the limo. The limb by itself was easily above 5 feet in length. What followed the leg was the head of the aforementioned bear, emerging from the door as he stepped out into the open. Son of Rap Bear may have lost his legs from his last rap battle with Phoebe, but now he was sporting brand new, very extravagant, and very disproportionately sized replacements, making the rest of his smaller body sit high up in the air.
With a confident stride, Son of Rap Bear made his way to Rotisserie Bob's side, setting his robo feet on the ground in a wide stance and looking down at the gawking contestants with a devilish smile.
"Yo! Yo! Son of Rap Bear in the house! Miss me losers?" He stood there, presenting himself as the quintessence of cocksure. The mental flashbang of Son of Rap Bear's emergence still had the human and fire elemental at a loss for words, the only exception being Finn perennially muttering "holy jambes" under his stunned breath. Their standoff was short lived with every individual on stage having their focus drawn back towards the limo by the inharmonic howl that poured out from the vehicle or to Finn's decreasing doubt, a clown car disguised as a limo with all of the eccentric individuals popping out of it.
Endless piles of empty "Wolf Claw" hard seltzers spilled out of the car and onto the floor as Party God squeezed his way out into the open. His fur looked matted, eyes bloodshot, and the buoyant movement of his floating head appeared to be rather unsteady. If anyone was the posterboy of a frat house drunkard, it was Party God.
"AWOOO–" His blustering howl was cut short by the unpleasant sound of him vomiting in his mouth before desperately swallowing it back down. "D-don't worry everyone… Party God has arrived… ugh… let's get this party star-" His attempt at coherent speech was once again interrupted by the intrusion of beer foam caught in his mouth. Failing to float in a straight line, Party god swayed his way to the center of the boxing ring, now sitting between the contestants. Phoebe, who was trying to wrap her head around what was happening, pointed an accusatory finger at Party God while looking at BMO.
"Hey BMO, what's this guy doing here?" Her question was sound enough. BMO's smile brightened as he waved both of his arms towards the intoxicated deity.
"Party God offered to act as judge for today's rap competition! Isn't that great?!" He said joyously, lifting up his oversized afro to look at Phoebe.
"Wait, I thought you were judging us little dude." Finn said.
BMO retained his joyous indifference on the matter. "Since I am your chum, many would consider it wack for me to decide on the winner."
"Party G here don't hold no bias. Nice try tryin to cheat though." Son of Rap bear accused, holding his fist out toward Rotisserie Bob who groaned, reluctantly tapping the aloft bear's fist with the tip of his oily wing.
Phoebe could only respond to the accusation with a hostile stare in response to his abhorrent claim, a crinkle forming between her brows. "What!? We weren't trying to cheat!–"
"Ya ya, whatever makes you feel better, campfire." Rotisserie Bob interrupted, cutting her off mid sentence with a dismissive wave. This earned a snicker from Son of Rap Bear, escalating the rate at which Phoebe's eye twitched. After releasing a loud belch into the mic that hung beside BMO, deep from within his non-existent stomach, Party God railroaded the direction of everyone's eyes onto himself.
"...Wow, that was a good one… Ahem! This totally awesome and absolutely ridonculous rap battle shall begin in three minutes!" The godlike frat boy declared in a surprisingly clear sentence, despite the repugnant stench of alcohol oozing off of him. The crowd broke out in reignited anticipation while Rotisserie Bob and Son of Rap Bear strode over to one corner of the ring. The limousine's engine sputtered to life shortly before it retracted back up into the sky and out of sight. The barrier of the cloud kingdom sailed away, once again basking the beachside in a warm blanket of sunlight. Finn took this chance to grab Phoebe by the arm and usher her towards the opposite corner of the ring where Jake was waiting for them.
"Hey, Don't let those stumps get under your skin. They're just blowin' hot air. They want you upset and unfocused." Finn said, hoping not to come off as if he were lecturing her. Luckily, Phoebe did not take it that way, responding briskly with a strong breath out of her nostrils.
"I know… it's not gonna work though. If anything, I feel even more pumped up now." She tore her stare of a million daggers away from their rivals, her mouth morphed into a buoyant smile, but if anything gave credit to her words, it was that unwavering twinkle in her eyes.
"Slam-bam-in-a-can!" Finn confirmed excitedly, finally pulling his steely hand off of her arm. He had apparently taken hold of her arm long enough for the hand to glow a faint red. Let's not high five anyone…
The pair encroached on Jake. The yellow dog elongated his arms and inflated them into the shape of a semicircle barrier around Finn and Phoebe, eliciting the three of them to lean their heads in. Jake was in coach mode now. He had the shape of a headset and microphone morphed over his head to fit the part.
"Alright you two… This competition ain't gonna be any walk in the Candy Kingdom. Son of Rap Bear has had a craptastic load of time to plan and prepare in that skronked up cap of his. Rotisserie Bob isn't anything to sneeze at either… You should be more wary of him since he's unfamiliar to you guys. There's not much to go off of from him so play on the defensive." Jake turned to look at Phoebe. "FQ, your longer history of experience warrants a higher chance of improvising so you should be the one to serve a cold hard platter of finishing lyrics. You dig?"
Phoebe gave a strict, singular nod. "You got it."
Jake turned to look at Finn now. "And Finn, I know you're a hero. Having that justice filled blood pumper in your chest is a blessing bro, but you gotta go right for the throat this time around. Can't be afraid to hit 'em where it hurts. You see that kill window? You take it!" Finn worked his jaw, perhaps misreading what Jake was laying out.
"...You want me to… kill 'em?"
"Nah man, I mean that you shouldnt be afraid to slap those donks with artillery on the personal side because they sure as poop aren't gonna hold back." Jake elaborated, unsurprised by the fact that his brother could be as sharp as a tack at times and yet as dense as a brick of lead at others.
"Ohhhh… ok I read you loud and clear."
"That's about the extent of my advice to you guys. Make that posh bear regret ever trying to take back his title! And singe that chicken so hard that I can eat him later!– I mean so that he'll feel it a week later!" The three of them pulled their heads away from each other. Jake pumped out his fist with great vigor. "What time is it!" Finn Pumped his fist no more than a millisecond later, followed by Phoebe's fist which stopped short of touching either of them.
"Rappin' Time!" "Rappin' Time!" "Killin' Time!"
"..."
"..."
"..."
Finn and Jake slowly reeled their heads towards Phoebe, who had butchered the chant. The brothers maintained their expressionless features, causing Phoebe to shrink into her shoulders a bit. "M-my bad… I didn't know what we were doing." She forced out a small and awkward laugh. The timer had ticked down its last second and the ding of the bell sounded, signaling the beginning of the rap battle.
Jake observed from beyond the ropes as the pairs engaged with one another in delivering their sick rhymes. Finn was the first to dish out his attack.
"I'm Finn and I'm the Hero of Ooo,
but today I'm a teacher taking you to school
cause these rhymes are mathematical!
they're totally radical!
gonna rock your bod from your toes to your clavicle!"
It was a solid kickstart for team Fire and Water, but not without a baleful riposte by Son of Rap Bear.
"You call yourself the Hero of Ooo!
you're more like the hero of poo!
you can't handle the beast I'll let loose,
gonna get beat so bad you pack up and move!
Im ruthless, put my own dad to shame!
I'm the MVP when it comes to playin this game,
Son of Rap Bear, remember the name!
Your rhymes stink!
Nobody cares what you think!
so turn around 'n get yo ass out of this ring!"
Jake could only wince for his brother, muttering things like Oh snap or yikes… The legion of fans that filled the beach as a panorama of chants and shouts didn't veer too far from Jake's own instinctive reactions to the back and forth, only the crowd was more animated with their echoes. The old dog, to anyone's assumption, would be fully engrossed in what was happening, but Jake had a history of losing focus over the tiniest of distractions. The most notable as of now being the sonorous flap of an itty bitty butterfly invading his eardrum. Jake redirected his field of vision towards the source. It would easily go unnoticed by literally anyone else, but being a dog had its perks, one of many being his far above average hearing.
Tuning out the white noise of the cheering, rapping, and the rumbling of a thousand footsteps, Jake fine tuned his floppy listeners until their target was locked in under his focus. The small fluttering creature was indeed a butterfly. Jake let out an unbridled gasp, holding both of his trembling paws to his chest. This was no simple butterfly. An almost microscopic chef hat, gilded with a sigil of a spatula crossing over a whisk, sat comfortably on the peak of the little butterfly's head as it began to meander away from the stage. Such a hat, adorned with such a badge, indicated that the small fella belonged to the elite chef's guild from the Kitchen Kingdom. Nobody here could possibly supplant Jake in the title of biggest fan. For years, he had studied their ways, bought their cookbooks, absorbed any publicly available information they provided on crafting the finest of Ooo's cuisines. Forgetting to breathe, Jake choked in a hasty breath of oxygen and urgently sprinted down the stairs on the side of the stage, right past Cinnamon Bun. He shot towards the shoreline where the rippling waves cascaded over the sand, the butterfly flapping away along the fringes of the coast.
Cinnamon Bun huffily regained his balance and shouted out at Jake. "Jake! YOU STILL CAN'T FOCUS AT ALL!"
Paying little mind to Cinnamon Bun's jab, Jake gradually slowed into a power walk, following the butterfly closely behind. The small flying insect was already apprised of Jake's stalking, evident by the unamused grumbling from the chef's pipsqueak voice. Finally pausing his foreword advance, the butterfly gyrated in the awestruck dog's direction.
"Merde! Why must I, Butter Suechef, have to deal with inept connards every waking moment!" The high pitched voice was ribboned with hostility, though aimed at no one in particular. A petit handlebar mustache twitched above his tiny mouth. Jake threw his noodly arms above his head in barely contained excitability. An actual gosh darned member of the Chef's Guild was talking to him of all people.
"Oh my Grod! I can't believe this is– oh my Grod!" Jake shouted dumbly. "I'm like a huge fan! I've been studying your guy's cooking for years!" Jake allowed his arms to retract back to their normal length before simply opting to raise his heels off the ground like a child who just met a superhero.
"Indeed… You and just about every other 'cook' in Ooo…" The tiny food artist replied impatiently, heavily laden with a thick accent. "Make your point and be gone."
"OK OK… get this. I may not measure up to the caliber of a guild chef, but I'm pretty confident that I meet the skillset to be recruited by you dudes. I invented two of the most bizonkers revolutionary dishes in my lifetime and I'm willing to bet that they would make a legendary edition to the guild's cookbooks." Jake proposed. He gestured his hands about, taking a few steps back and forth as if he were presenting to a board room. The butterfly kept up his veil of tired annoyance, creases in his forehead and folds on the sides of his lips.
Jake continued, unaware of the butterfly's harsh lack of caring. "My first dish was the Everything Burrito which was a giant flour tortilla, enveloping a flavortastic combination of condiments, meats, veggies, you name it! Somethin' to really make your tongue buds explode! Next was my Ultimate Sandwich and oh my glob was it totally AWESOME! Pretty sure I was the first guy in the universe to extract a lobster soul and infuse it into the sandwich Picasso style. Third, it may not be original, but I make a pretty mean meatloaf." Jake concluded his thrown together ted talk, followed by an anticipative smile. The winged chef was not impressed. If anything, he looked ridonculously offended.
"Do not waste my time with your putain ideas! Also, your meatloaf is dry like sandpaper, you grassland plouc! I wouldn't recommend you to the guild even if it meant me becoming head chef in the Kitchen Kingdom." This insult was added to by the stuck up chef hocking a ball of spit into the dirt.
If offense, resentment, wrath, or disbelief could all be thrown together into a singular cacophonous thing, it would be Jake's face. The absolute effrontery that spilled out of the stuck up chef's mouth had Jake threatening to boil over.
"YOU- TAKE- THAT- BACK!" His vocal cords rumbled violently as he jabbed his finger in the offender's face. "My meatloaf is awesome! I'll have you know that I've spent years cooking it! Making sure it was absolutely PERFECT!"
"I bet you did, you fat bâtard!"
Jake dug his fingers into his scalp, growling rhythmically. "Bah! If I had known that the Chef's Guild was full of stuck up visionless cats like you, I wouldn't have wasted my time chasing after you while Finn's up on stage working his buns off!" Finn…
Jake froze like a statue, comprehending the fact that he'd gotten distracted again when he should have been up on stage supporting his bro, not trying to seek the praise of a narcissistic jerkwad. "Aww man, Finn!" Completely forgetting about the butterfly that scoffed and fluttered away, Jake mustered up all of his reserved brainpower to peer back at the stage. The crowd screamed as Phoebe just punched Son of Rap Bear in the face with a ferocious word combo, creating a small crack in his usual arrogant facade. Rotisserie Bob was tapped in, firing back at Finn and Phoebe. The competition was fierce no doubt.
"Bock Bock Im packin' the Glock
I got stuffin you got nothin
So you better start runnin!
I dont just spit words, I spit lead!
If you aint runnin, you gonna get dead!
I'm Bob the Rotisserie, you two? Nothing but history!"
He refocused his barrage of fire on Finn.
"Speaking of history,
I've learned from the best,
Now it's time to put these rhymes to the test,
I ain't rest, because sleep be the cousin of death
Im 24/7 on a mission to seek and destroy
You ain't a hero, you're a scared little boy!"
The horde went ravenous. People jumped up and down, ran in circles, etc. Jake struggled to keep himself from getting tossed about in the ocean of hyped Ooozers. Jake grew in size, desperately trying to wade through the plethora of heads and make his way back to his brother. Finn ate the chicken's words like morning bacon pancakes, unmoved. Armed with Jake's rad shades and a bounce in his frame that matched the beat of the DJ, the hero spat out an unwavering refutation.
"You call me a scared little boy?
You're the one in a chicken!
You call these shots fired?
But they've all been missin'!"
Finn wasn't finished though. He wanted to kill two birds with one stone.
"And Son of Rap Bear,
Remember your name?
You don't even have your own,
You're riding your pop's fame!"
That's my bro! Jake couldn't fight back the overwhelming warmth of pride that swelled within his chest, but he couldn't fight back the equally overwhelming force of the energetic mosh pit that fought away from the platform. He was getting so close too. Jake cursed under his breath, the moving image of Finn gingerly waltzing back toward Phoebe as they high fived, growing smaller as the exhausted dog was dragged away by a tide of drunks.
After getting tossed around like fruit in a blender, Jake was launched out of the crowd, landing face first into the sand with an unceremonious thud. "...Ouchie" Spitting out the last of the sand grains coating his tongue, Jake prepared himself to dive back in and fight against the tsunami. Something hit him… Not hit as in with a fist. No, the impact on the back of his head was painless, perhaps a little slimy. Losing focus again, Jake swiveled around to see a delectable sausage on the ground, tempting him for a bite. Sure it was covered in sand, but Jake had eaten more questionable things before. His newfound appetite overwrote any awareness he had for the small string attached to one end of the juicy sustenance. Rubbing his hands together, Jake gave into the allure filling his nose. "Well… there's some time for Jakie to have a quick snack heheheh." Jake reached down to grab the sausage. He was bamboozled when the only thing he got a handful of was sand. "What the what!?"
The sausage slithered along the sand in a succession of asperous tugs. It was on now. When the old gut demanded food, Jake was never one to argue. "You're gonna get in my mouth one way or another!" It was not a threat or a challenge, but a statement of fact. If Jake had his mind on eating something, it was gonna get eaten. No Finn cakes, apple pies, or moving sausages would ever be spared. Growing dozens of additional arms, Jake released a volley of hands to catch the slippery morsel yet such efforts were still in vain. Each elastic hand that shot down to grip the sausage would only receive more handfuls of sand, causing Jake to grunt in frustration as he chased the food item further away from the lively masses and behind a rock face, cutting off his view of the stage.
Rounding the corner of the rocky formation, Jake had finally cornered his prey. There sat the sausage, conveniently sitting between two boulders that dwarfed the yellow canine in height. Letting out a sigh of satisfaction now that he was done with the cardio, he hurried towards the hot link. "Time to get my fat basket to shut up- WOAH!" Just before he could reach it, the loud snap of a rope echoed overhead and the next thing he knew, Jake was now pinned to the ground by a large and heavy instrument. Twisting his head skywards, Jake assessed that he was pinned to the earth by a comically large colander, riddled with razor sharp holes in uniformity. "Huh… ok?" Reorienting his head downward, Jake reached for the sausage, at last, taking hold of it under his digits before ardently sinking his teeth into it. A long mumble of mmmmm reverberated from his vocal cords as he savored it. Jake would worry about his predicament later. Right now was sausage time.
"So, we finally meet again, Jake… from 'Advice, Begs The Question'" The high crackled voice ejected Jake from his dreamy flavor heaven. Looking forwards, half eaten sausage still in hand, the dog frowned. A small squirrel stepped out into the open, hands held behind his back, eyes bloodshot. Something about this small rabid mammal had Jake's melon gears working, but not quite as effectively as he'd hoped.
"Remember me Jake!?" He shouted viciously. Whoever this was, they certainly weren't a friend of Jake. Plan A was to start guessing.
"Are you that delivery driver I forgot to tip last week? I have the dosh man. I just forgot, I'm sorry."
"NO!" The squirrel began shaking with fury, eyes becoming more bloodshot.
"Ummm… Are you with the dentistry kingdom? I promise I'll floss this time."
"rrrrrRAAAAAAHHH! NO!" The angered rodent ripped clumps of fur out of his scalp, discouraging Jake from making any more guesses. "I've been trying to get you to post my fudging fan letter for the past!- For the past!- AHHHHHH!"
Jake's head retracted into his body like a scared and deeply disturbed turtle. "Fan letter? The deuce are you talkin about man?"
The squirrel was foaming at the mouth. "My Fan letters! The ones I tried getting you to print for your flipping news article! You're gonna print them one way or another!"
"Hmmmm…" Jake scratched his chin while thinking. "Ohhhhh… that. Ya look dude, I haven't been keeping up with my newspaper for years… I kinda dumped it. You still thought that was going?"
The squirrel pulled out a dagger and waved it around in an ominous fashion. "Well you're gonna flippen end your hiatus and you're gonna post my fan letters or I'm gonna carve up your freaking mug! And don't even think about trying to grow in size and escape! I sharpened all the holes in the colander you're trapped under you dum dum! Try to get bigger? You'll be torn to ribbons!" He demanded, providing his harsh ultimatum.
"... What if I just shrinked?..."
The squirrel's eyes widened. "W-what!?"
Jake shrunk down to the size of a thimble, casually stepping out of the trap. Small Jake picked up the half eaten sausage and smacked the stalking rodent across the face with it and sent him flying back before stretching away with the sausage. The squirrel regained his bearings, only to find that his prisoner had escaped. "Son of a blee blob!"
Jake hurriedly rushed back towards the event, hoping he didn't miss the conclusion. As he finally made it back, he was relieved to see that the rap battle has yet to conclude. Phoebe was up next.
"You aren't a rotisserie, you're just bird brained!
That's why every rhyme you spit is nothing but lame!"
Rotisserie Bob clutched at where his heart would be like he'd taken a thousand daggers to his pride. Phoebe turned towards Son of Rap Bear to land the finishing blow.
"Speaking of lame, what happened to your legs?
Oh that's right I blew them off last time,
Now you've got those mechanical pegs!
Now you're half metal, and your rhymes are robotic!
Once this fire starts cooking, there's no way to stop it!
I may be the Flame Queen but I'm dripping with ice!
So pack up, cause I'm done playing nice!
You've already been burnt, now you've been fried!
And all these roasts, none of them were lies!
I've beat you once, now this makes it twice!"
With that, Phoebe extended her arm out in front of her and released her hold on the microphone, letting it plummet to the floor with the impact causing the device's impact to crackle through the stereo system. There was silence. The quietness was broken by one person in the crowd screaming at the top of their lungs, ecstatically clapping their hands raw. This singular reaction was quickly mirrored by the entirety of the beachside. The shouts and chants were so deafening that neither Rotisserie Bob or Son of Rap Bear could get a rebuttal in. The audience had already decided on their winners.
No hesitation was needed by Party God either. Phoebe's final delivery had rocked and thrashed so hard that he miraculously felt sober again. "I HEREBY DECLARE FLAME QUEEN AND FINN THE HUMAN THE WINNERS OF THIS RAP BATTLE! AWOOOOOOO!" There was no sign that the cheering would die down anytime soon. Finn in all of his pent up elation, jumped up into the air. Landing on his feet, Finn ran up to Phoebe, springing his hands up above his head.
"Pheebs! We Won!" He shouted in a fit of adrenaline filled laughter. Phoebe sat still, blinking her eyes. She stewed in that fact shortly before shaking in uncontrolled joy.
"W-we won?..." The corner's of her mouth stretched upward. "We Won!" She joined the human in his act of bouncing up and down. Jake dived between the ropes and onto the ring, joining in on their excitable happy dance.
"Alooblyloobyloo!" Jake shouted.
"Hahaha! That's not even a real word dude." Finn chortled, still victory dancing along with them.
"Heheh, ya I know, I'm just so proud of you guys!"
Over on the other end of the ring was Rotisserie Bob and Son of Rap Bear. The latter was sulking in defeat, butt plopped on the floor, arms hanging loosely. Rotisserie Bob was more outraged than depressed. He gritted his teeth and spouted all sorts of nonsense which was overruled by all the happy chanting. Son of Rap Bears fancy bionic legs popped off and exploded, leaving the bear once again legless.
"Man, I've been defeated, absolutely stampeded.
No more stems for treads.
Son of Rap Bear? More like 'Son of Crap Despair'…"
With that, The once high and mighty rapper fell on his back and stared at the sky with hollow eyes. Rotisserie Bob sneered at the sight. "Pathetic!" Was all he could say before screaming into his mic.
"WAAAAIT!" Silence washed over every soul present. Murmurers and muffled gasps lingered momentarily before trailing off into the soft ocean breeze. All heads turned towards the angry chicken man.
"I demand a rematch! A recount! This buffoon was unfairly holding me back!" He pointed his wing at Son of Rap Bear who was now laying in a puddle of his own tears. Phoebe crossed her arms with an impatient glare.
"Nu uh! You're just being a sore flop. Maybe you should have thought about that before teaming up with him." Her voice was stern, but didn't carry any venom. Jake stretched over to Rotisserie Bob, getting in his face.
"Just accept that your buns got toasted and go home with some integrity man! My bro worked hard and deserves every bit of this W!" Jake's challenge made Finn grin in delight over his canine brother's defense. Rotisserie Bob yiped and raised his knee up like he was shielding himself from an assault.
"Holy jam! Security! I have a restraining order on this man! Get him away from me!" Bob backed away from Jake who had been hypersalivating from his proximity to the chicken. Angry calls were flung at the losing party from within the masses.
"Boo! Get off the stage!"
"You lost bub! Take a hike!"
The unending demands for Rotisserie Bob to accept his defeat and go home were escalating. His response was to stomp one foot down on the floor and cross his arms like a toddler throwing a temper tantrum.
"NNNO!" He shouted defiantly. The crowd was now chanting Off the stage! Over and over again while he remained there. Jake growled as he crept up behind Rotisserie Bob, expanding the size of his foot. In one swift motion, Jake kicked Bob in the rump so hard that he was launched out of his chicken suit, landing into the sea of Ooozers that cheered for Jake answering their calls for the chicken's removal. Now both naked and slimy, aside from his undies, the now rotisserieless Bob frantically covered himself as best he could while the many onlookers laughed and cheered.
"Don't look at my chicken tenders!" He echoed. A heart shaped tattoo on his chest that had the word MoM printed on caused the immediate group surrounding him to pass jeering. "There's no shame in expressing love for your mother!" With that, the tarnished underground sensation, known as Rotisserie Bob, crawled off in an attempt to get away from the public eye.
A media crew, made up of candy citizens, rushed onto the stage, cameras in hand. BMO struggled as he carried a large golden trophy in the shape of a microphone over his head, wobbling between each step until he was in front of Finn and Phoebe. The top section of the trophy was hollowed out into a bowl-like shape. Phoebe gingerly leaned down and took the trophy from the encumbered game bot. One of the camera armed candy people, a jawbreaker lady, stepped out in front of her posse to address the winners.
"Flame Queen and Finn the Human! Can we take a picture of you and the trophy for the local paper!?"
Finn looked over at Phoebe just as she did him. Smiling and nodding to each other, Finn gave the jawbreaker a thumbs up. "Sure can!" Finn and Phoebe both held the trophy between them, Giant beaming smiles painting their faces. The jawbreaker lady held up three fingers to indicate her countdown.
"Alright, taking picture in three… two… one!"
Just before the camera flashed, Phoebe moved her free hand behind Finn's head, holding up two fingers, giving him bunny ears. At the same time Finn moved his finger in front of her face right under her nose giving her a finger mustache. The cameras flashed and they both erupted into laughter realizing they had both had the same idea. The sound of a polaroid printing meant that their playful celebration would be forever enshrined in the history of Ooo.
Sorry for the delayed upload y'all. I had been dealing with a pretty intense week of final exams as well as an eye surgery that i've been recovering from. I hope this 10,000 word chapter makes up for it. Thanks again for reading!