Brawling Boss Bust-Up

The final blow connected with the great wolf’s head. It knocked a tooth loose, the enormous fang skewering a car as it fell to the streets below. He recoiled, and started flashing red. That was it, dude was toast.

Rolldozer flexed to show off his massive arms, the weapons of the wolf’s demise. He watched the wolf boss try to fight against the rules of being a boss monster. His health bar had been depleted for hours now, at this point he was just being a sore loser. He wasn’t levelled up enough to have another form and all his bonus lives were spent. He tried to push his body down as it inflated like a parade balloon, growing thicker and losing definition as his eyes bulged and his seams began to give. “I’ll... get you... next time, Rolldoooooozeeeeerrrrrr--”

Kaboom!

Coins showered the fifty-foot armadillo. He would collect them later when he was done destroying the city. He smacked his bulge and huffed. Seeing a dude explode, it always got him hot, without fail. The moment of hope when they found a lull in their inflation, the horror when they realized it was the calm before the storm; the big wide eyes they had, like saucers, before they finally went pop. It was an electric feeling. He felt like giving himself a private ‘explosion’ right now, the wolf blew up good before he went. He almost hoped some loser would gather up the scraps and revive him so he could watch it all again, but nah. That wasn’t it. One and done, that’s the motto of a good boss monster. You fight, you brawl, you go out with a bang.

“So you’re the hard-shell who’s been muscling in on my turf.”

Rolldozer was in the middle of picking his teeth with a lamp post when a Minotaur the size of the empire state building rocked up, and got in his face. He reflexively pumped up, putting the sky-blue bull eye level with his pecs. “Your turf? I don’t see your name on it.”

He responded by making a strained face and pumping himself to the same height. His muscles were ‘almost’ as impressive as Rolldozer’s own beautiful golden meat curves, but they were almost see-through. The dude was a literal balloon. Seams, nozzles, the whole shebang. His hair wasn’t even actual hair, it was a big rubber loaf shaped to resemble a pompadour. Stupid thing even had a nozzle on it too.

“Who are you, a smurf’s fursona?” Roll scoffed. He pressed his pecs against the rubber Minotaur’s, and felt a shudder at how good it felt. Damn. There was a spark there. The bull blimp pushed back, and Roll could feel a heat building up. He wanted to beat this guy so bad, he wanted to crush him and watch him explode. He wanted to kill this big balloon.

“No, I’m the one who’s gonna take you down,” his voice was comically deep. But it was working for him. He moved one of his gigantic feet over Roll’s, they were humanoid, the only bullish thing about this guy was his broad, powerful chinned bovine face. Roll couldn’t wait to see what expression he’d make before he burst.

“And who’s gonna be doing the popping? It’ll be me, obviously, but uh... I’m a polite southern boy, I got manners,” Roll got close enough to snort hot air in his face. “So what’s yer name, scrap rubber?”

“Megas,” he said.

And the fight was on.

He slammed his chest against Roll and threw a punch, his knuckle connecting with his stomach and forcing the dillo to cough and bend over. Megas clasped his hands together and then slammed his double-fists down against Roll’s back. His shell was hard, it protected him from losing too much HP, but it wasn’t enough to keep him from eating the asphalt. He dug his fingers into the street, tearing concrete, and bounded back to his feet. Headbutting the bull on the way, sending him reeling.

Megas stumbled. He wasn’t prepared for that. He gripped a chunk of a nearby skyscraper and wrenched it out of the damned building, hurling it at Rolldozer as a ball of mashed metal.

Rolldozer caught it, then shoulder charged him to the ground. He pummelled his chest. Each blow causing it to inflate bigger, and bigger, as his strength grew in proportion to how much HP he lost. “Nice tits,” Roll scoffed, then slammed both fists down. “Shame they’re going to be confetti in a second!”

Megas kicked at his stomach and knocked him away, Roll’s own upper body swelling up and beginning to dwarf his head from the damage he incurred. “Your ego is as fit to burst as you are!” Megas snorted.

The two slammed their chests together. Their HP depleting rapidly, as steam billowed out from their nostrils. Their upper bodies were cartoonishly distended, big and muscular, but in the ludicrous and flimsy way a car dealership’s mascot was big and muscular. They gripped one another with their air bloated arms, trying to compress the other. It was a battle of inflatable attrition to see who would explode first.

“I’ll take you out, and wear your scraps like a thong!” Megas yelled. His head sinking deeper into the crater his inflating upper body had morphed into.

Roll, similarly compromised, stood his ground. He stomped his feet into the earth and roared. “I’ll turn you into a pair of new sneakers, and I’ll stomp on your tombstone with them, you fat cow!”

The two reached their limits. Their eyes went loopy, looking in different directions. The pressure forced them to both stick their arms out at angles, like they were in the middle of star jumps. With gritted teeth, hot steam erupting from their faces, and one last roar each. They popped like balloons, showering the city with yellow, brown, and various shades of blue latex.

“So, who won?” An onlooker said.

“... uh, I guess it’s a tie.”