Foodfight

Twilight in Marketropolis (A Foodfight Tale)

Cursing under his breath, Dex Dogtective clutched his bleeding side and ran limping through the darkened streets of Marketropolis.
It was night. It was always night now.
The avenues of Marketroplis had once been filled to bursting with light and colour, the sounds of singing and laughter and the wholesome smell of high-quality brand name products. Now the city was cloaked in perpetual shadow and silence. It was a desperate kind of silence, stretched taut to breaking point. The kind of silence that comes just before the scream.
Dex tried to put the thought out of his mind and focused on the pain under his paw, a red-hot spider’s web of agony that flared with every breath. He wanted to stop running but he couldn’t. Not here. Still too close to Mouse territory.
Dex’s lip curled back in a snarl of impotent rage. Mouse territory. As if the whole damn city wasn’t his territory. As if he hadn’t already won.
Halfway down the cereal aisle the pain finally became too much and Dex almost passed out. Keep it together, he told himself. Go to sleep here and you might not wake up again. Gotta keep going, boy. Gotta keep going. Who’s a good boy? You are. You are. Yes you are.

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Walt Disney Reviews Foodfight!

 

(DISCLAIMER: This blog is the property of the Walt Disney Corporation.  The Walt Disney Corporation reserves the right to protect its copyrighted material from any and all infringement. Violators will be shot and fed to the shareholders. New to the blog? Start at the start with Snow White.)

"Mouse! Mouse! Where are you!"

“Mouse! Mouse! Where are you!”

"Walt!? What are you doing?! Get out of here while you still can!"

“Walt!? What are you doing?! Get out of here while you still can!”

 Awful
"My God, it’s even worse than I imagined. The animation…so awful…the characters…so…ugly…"

“My God, it’s even worse than I imagined. The animation…so awful…the characters…so…ugly…”

"Disney. You came."

“Disney. You came.”

"Huh. I had a feeling the Horned King wasn’t smart enough to pull something like this off. You must be the man behind the man."

“Huh. I had a feeling the Horned King wasn’t smart enough to pull something like this off. You must be the man behind the man.”

"Indeed."

“Indeed.”

"Well played."

“Well played.”

"Thank you."

“Thank you.”

"It was you…"

“It was you…”

"Obviously."

“Obviously.”

"But then how?"

“But then how?”

"Don’t you see?"

“Don’t you see?”

"Ah. Brilliant."

“Ah. Brilliant.”

"So you understand?"

“So you understand?”

"Of course."

“Of course.”

"Good. Then there’s no reason for me to explain."

“Good. Then there’s no reason for me to explain.”

"Of course not. It’s simplicity itself. You’d have to be an idiot not to understand."

“Of course not. It’s simplicity itself. You’d have to be an idiot not to understand.”

"What are you talking about?"

“What are you talking about?”

"Your witness."

“Your witness.”

"It was I who resurrected the Horned King, you furry fool. I who suggested to him that he trap you in this movie."

“It was I who resurrected the Horned King, you furry fool. I who suggested to him that he trap you in this movie.”

"Why? What did I ever do to you?"

“Why? What did I ever do to you?”

"You? My poor deluded Mouse. This was never about YOU. I did all this to get HIM here."

“You? My poor deluded Mouse. This was never about YOU. I did all this to get HIM here.”

"Why? Who are you?"

“Why? Who are you?”

"Someone who owes you a lifetime of torment. Someone who has suffered at your hands like no other. Someone whose desire for revenge burns like the fire of a thousand white hot suns."

“Someone who owes you a lifetime of torment. Someone who has suffered at your hands like no other. Someone whose desire for revenge burns like the fire of a thousand white hot suns.”

"That could literally be anyone. Care to narrow it down for me?"

“That could literally be anyone. Care to narrow it down for me?”

"P.L. Travers maybe?"

“P.L. Travers maybe?”

"Ooh! Good guess! Pamela, is that you?"

“Ooh! Good guess! Pamela, is that you?”

"NO I AM NOT PAMELA TRAVERS! NOW REVIEW THE MOVIE! REVIEW…AND DIE!"

“NO I AM NOT PAMELA TRAVERS! NOW REVIEW THE MOVIE! REVIEW…AND DIE!”

The origins of Foodfight are shrouded in mystery and occultation. It is said to have been the creation of “Larry Kasanoff”, a figure who appears in Arab folklore as a wandering trickster and teller of evil tales. Legend has it that Kasanoff was entranced by Pixar’s Toy Story, and tried to make his own version set in a supermarket, with corporate mascots instead of beloved toys. He approached the masters and lords of coproate America and with honeyed words filled their hearts with greed. “My Lords” he said “Think of it, a film that was an advertisement. Two hours of product placement made for little, impressionable children. Is it not glorious?” And, so, the story goes, they agreed to let Kasanoff use their mascots for his diabolical scheme. For many long years he toiled at his black work, suffering many setbacks. Indeed, his early work was stolen in what Kasanoff called “industrial espionage” but what we can only call “true heroism”. This forced Kasanoff to start again from scratch. Whoever that nameless thief was, we must thank him for seeking to spare us this monstrosity, even if ultimately his work was for nothing.
"Many Bothans died trying to stop this movie."

Many Bothans died trying to stop this movie.

Then again, this is all supposition. Perhaps there never was a “Larry Kasanoff”. We may never know who created Foodfight! Maybe it doesn’t matter.  All that matters is that it exists. I am Walter Elias Disney, The Doom of Bahia, Master of the Black Mouse and defender of this world. And today, at last, I know fear. Today, I review Foodfight!

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