Disclaimer: Marvel owns these characters, but announcements regarding "Avengers Arena" have shaken my faith that they can handle them. So as an alternative to one Arena, I present another, happier one.

Rockeslide's Wacky Wrestling!

Prologue: Putting on a Show

Santo 'Rockslide' Vaccarro clenched his fists, the smile of a child on his craggy face, "This is the greatest thing ever."

"I still can't believe you talked everyone else into this," Victor 'Anole' Borkowski, his 'partner' for the evening, sighed. "I mean, how did you get in contact with like half of them? And how the hell did you convince them this was a good idea?"

"Dude? Internet!" Santo answered with a wave of his hands, "And you underestimate my powers of persuasion. " He scratched his chin and then added, "Some did need more convincing than others, but when I laid this out for them, they said they'd do it. Training and all!"

"Just so you can live out your dream?"

Anole considered Santo his friend. An abrasive, idiotic one, but still a friend. He just couldn't believe he managed to orchestrate all of this—an entire wrestling circuit composed of young heroes from across the country. He had a venue, danger-room tech to create any match scenario they needed, cameras to record it for online sales, a teleportation network to get everyone in and out, and he got every major team to agree to participate. And what they agreed to do in this show—that still boggled his mind.

Currently in the ring, one of their classmates was squaring off against a kid from a 'rival school' as it were. Hisako 'Armor' Ichiki found herself locked in an odd test of strength with the Avenger's student Humberto 'Reptil' Lopez. With the Danger Room tech at their disposal, programing dream matches was easily done and this was certainly a dream.

In the arena's center, there was no wrestling ring. The setup itself was more like a Roman amphitheater, but the center was something odd. It was a city, a somewhat miniature city, accurate in every detail, right down to the little bricks in the walls and furniture inside. It made both of them look like they were true giants—which is saying something, because Armor was not even 5ft tall normally.

However neither was normal, which was the point of Unlimited Class Wrestling. It allowed people with Super Powers to wrestle it out. In this case, Armor's 'armor' made her look like a giant robot, and Reptil's current form was that of a Tyrannosaurus rex. Rockslide called it a 'Daikaiju Showdown Match.'

Anole couldn't believe that his friend had such marketing savvy when normally his brain was as dense as the rocks that made up his body.

"So how much talking did Amadeus do?"

After a moment, Santo relented, "A lot."


Inside the miniature cityscape, the two students were locked in battle; Reptil's tyrannosaur jaws locked firmly on Armor's protected shoulder. Inside her psychokinetic armor, she was several feet away from the powerful teeth. It still worried her that he could scrape it.

'Man, I bet this looks great' Reptil' 'thought to her. With his mouth full, he couldn't exactly talk. Thankfully, with the Stepford Cuckoo's backstage, telepathic communication was a snap.

'Don't get too distracted,' Hisako thought back, 'Don't need the headache from shattered armor.'

'Speaking of headaches, how long until you gonna—' Reptil's words were cut off in his mind as Hisako shifted her grip on his torso and hoisted his Tyrannosaur form into the air, vertically. He thrashed in pseudo futility outing every effort to looking as though he were trying to escape her grip.

To be fair, he wasn't sure he could if she really tried.

'Go limp,' she thought to him, just before he felt a weightlessness in his gut as she brought him down head first into one of the larger structures. Judging by the number of floors he smashed through, he guessed it had to be an office building. At this "size", it was hard to tell some of the finer details.

As per their plan, he went limp on impact, flopping on impact, eyes shut in a false unscheduled slumber. Reptil's form shifted from that of a mighty tyrannosaur, to the athletic Latino teen he was (though he still retained the red skin), splayed out like a starfish. She released her armor, rushed over and threw herself across his chest, hooking one of his legs in a classic wrestling pin.

With his eyes shut, he felt himself 'daredevil up' very slightly. Sadly, he had yet to be able to call up the skin of a feathered therapod without also getting the feathers, but he still got a nice readout on her from his other senses. Part of him wanted to flush a bit from embarrassment, being this close to a girl who wasn't his girlfriend. Her matted hair tickled his chin and smell of simply her was very hard to ignore. Before the count began proper, he had to let her know:

'Careful,' Reptil thought to her, 'You'll make my girlfriend jealous.'

It broke her concentration for a moment and she turned her head to face him, 'Shutup!' a blush building on her face.

'No, seriously, please don't make my girlfriend jealous.'

Unfortunately for Reptil, his girlfriend was watching. Though she had extreme trouble understanding emotions herself, she could read them rather well. She assured herself that it was simply the body's reaction to being close to a young woman and Humberto's mild shyness in play. But the assurances were not being accepted fully by her brain. At first this confused her, but then it struck her.

She wondered, perhaps this was jealousy?

"And dino-boy looks like he's down for the count!" Chase Stein called out, standing up from his chair, holding the mike in one hand and planting one foot firmly on the announcers table as the referee robot's counter reached two.

Gertrude Yorks smirked, "And his girlfriend is watching."

The count hit three and the local crowd erupted in cheers.

"Oh-ho-ho!" Chase leaned into her, "Do I smell trouble in paradise?"

Gert said, "Trouble, or something very kinky. With them, it's hard to tell."

Chase sat back down in the chair and snorted before laughing uproariously. He couldn't help it. He was having fun. The energy was just too hard to ignore. "Alright, alright," He said, trying to calm himself down, "In our next contest, we have . . . "

Chase blinked to make sure his eyes weren't fooling him. Then he rubbed them just in case. Then he rubbed the page, just to make sure IT was real. Fate, it seemed, didn't want him to calm down.

Gert watched the features in Chase's face flush. At first she was surprised—how could Chase forget something like this upcoming match? Then she remembered that he didn't bother to read the fight card beforehand. She didn't mind, Chase seemed like flying by the seat of his pants, though she did find the match itself mildly off putting. But if they agreed to do it and basically pander to the bassist male instincts, that was their choice. She could think of reasons for it, but hell would freeze over before she mentioned them to anyone.

Chase's voice positively boomed when he found it, "Lightspeed and Lucy in the Sky in a bikini oil wrestling match! Woo-hoo!"

Gert could tell that Rockslide was a sexist pig at heart, but that the two agreed to it was another thing entirely. Still. Their bodies, their choice. SHe still sighed and shook her head at the failings of modern society.


Anole screamed out his frustrations, "Damnit, Santo!"

Santo giggled like a series of pebbles rolling downhill, "Yeah. This is gonna be sweet."

It took a few seconds for Anole to form the words, but they were important ones, "Why?! – How?! I think 'how' is the more important question. How the hell did you get them to agree to this?"

"Because I'm Awesome!" Was Rockslide's lone answer.

Backstage, the sound of Anole slapping his forehead echoes loudly.


Chase cleared his throat after cheering for the exploitative match coming up next before adding, "And closing tonight, we have a Tag Team event as Anole and Rockslide take on the team of Hulkling and Wiccan! So be sure to stick around while we scrape Reptil off the mat."

"So grab your popcorn now, because you won't want to miss a second."