MOLEMAN'S EPIC RAP BATTLES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Expecting a breakdown? I'll do no such thing this match:
I'll take my pain and suffering and wear it like a bloody badge
As I show the world my worth as fiction's greatest deconstruction,
And teach this so–called "tortured" soul the meaning of dysfunction!
I'm anything but aloof, but I'll provide eternal proof
That I'm far superior to any twisted Charlton spoof…
…Oh, what's the point in trying; who am I even fooling?
I'm almost as f***ed up as this maniac I'm dueling!
…No, get it together, Shinji! You mustn't run away;
Just remember what you learned from Warhammer 40k…
…Wipe that look off your inky face! You don't understand me,
Though I'd expect no different from a murderous vigilante!
I'm the better person here, and I say that with rare confidence;
I'll be the first to admit to my cowardice and incontinence,
But compared to you, sloven, I'm Adam's gift to women!
I'm scored by Beethoven… though, then again, you've got Bob Dylan…
…Look, how my story ends is something no one really knows,
But I'm pretty sure I didn't become a bloodstain on the snow!
And speaking of blood, forget your smiley face of doom;
It's nothing next to the mark that I left on the moon
When I… Oh God, the horror; the sea of human orange juice…
…Oh man, I can't do this; it's hopeless, there's no use!
I'm a terrible, wretched person who ought to be dead;
Maybe I should have let them send in Rei to rap instead...
Rorschach's Journal, December, 2015:
The streets echo with the cries of this teenage drama queen.
Definitely perverted; no need to inspect further:
Jerks off to girls in comas and clones of his own mother.
Like Pagliacci, he's a sad, pathetic, self–loathing clown,
And while men get arrested, dogs get put down,
And tonight, a little bitch dies in Tokyo–3 City
For the crime of having the sheer NERV to mess with me!
As you gaze upon my face, I stare back from the abyss;
I'm cruel like an angel while I'm spitting my thesis:
If my "battle" with this emo waste is meant to be a joke,
Then it's a sicker one than what the Comedian evokes!
What are you, stupid?! Stepping to me, you must be!
I live in ebony and ivory, like Fearful Symmetry;
I may be a psycho, but at least I'm not weak–willed!
I'll go Third Impact on your face, and make sure You Can (Not) Rebuild.
And on faces: even without mine, I'm one freaking cool ginger;
Don't bother crying for help, 'cause you know what word I'll whisper.
You sulk in your depression; I turn mine to righteous aggression!
I'm based on Vic Sage, and yet there's still no Question
That the end is nigh for this whimpering little whiner!
It's one minute to midnight on his personal doomsday timer,
And as he speaks last words, a new world record will be set:
First person in history to flunk the Rorschach Test.
(Cut back to Shinji doing what he does best: sobbing like a whiny little tool)
ANNOUNCER: SHINJI, GET A HOLD OF YOURSELF AND GET BACK IN THE FUCKING ROB– ERM… BATTLE!
Alright, focus, Shinji… this is your last chance… concentrate… you can do this…
Listen here, Mr. Short, Slim, Smelly and Scary:
I'm about to humble you so hard, call me Happy Harry!
I'm not locked in here with you, nor are you locked in here with me;
I realize now that both of us are screwed up equally,
And yet in spite of my faults, I at least know who I am.
You hide under a burlap mask, you schizophrenic sham!
Why do I pilot the Eva? That's inconsequential,
Because just like Ren and Stimpy, I'm way existential;
Truly misunderstood and worthy of sympathy!
You're a stubborn sociopath; you don't deserve your popularity,
So haul your vagrant ass home on some passing garbage truck.
The one you're based on said it best, Walter: "Rorschach sucks."
Hurm, convenient. Suddenly you discover your testicles,
And like your balls themselves, the change is barely perceptible.
Even now, you still make poor old Daniel look like yours truly,
And your arguments are as full of nonsense as Fooly Cooly!
Don't go off about your so–called existentialist philosophy;
It's phoned–in: all for show, like that religious iconography!
You're delirious again, Ikari; get a freaking grip
Before I break your fingers off like this was Tales from the Crypt!
Would say I'd snap your spine, too, but pretty sure you have no vertebrae;
Kid, the bottom line is: you're the Willy Loman of anime,
While I'm even kicking asses when I go to take a dump,
Like a full–time berserker, so come and get me, chump!
(Cut again to Shinji, now in the midst of yet another breakdown)
Shinji Ikari: I… I can't do this… help me! Somebody, help me! Somebody, anybody, please help me, is anyone listening?! I'm begging you!!!
You disappoint me, son. Yet, you have served your purpose here, and now, just as planned, I will be the one to finish this…
Out from behind closed doors, I emerge to take the floor;
Heart hardened like a mecha's core, frigid like the Cold War,
Yet I rely on Children no more as I step into the fray
To hijack this verbal melee like the schemings of SEELE!
It's Gendo, baby, and even though my boy's a total wimp,
You'll find the apple falls far, because this dad's an uber–pimp!
Any Akagi will attest that I'm one manly ladies' man;
I look boss with my shiny shades and steeple–clasped hands.
Such is my influence, I've even run for office in real life,
While you're a bigger fool for "justice" than I am for my dead wife,
And though you boast brutal brawling skills and crude grappling gadgetry,
I'm close to David Xanatos in my manipulative mastery!
You beating me has a one–in–a–billion probability;
Like your one–man war on crime, it's an effort in futility,
And despite having been bit in half like Liu Kang's fatality,
I'm here to flow rhymes so seamless, call it Instrumentality.
I'll penetrate your mind and soul like Arael; I don't relent,
For my sync rate with this rhythm's over four hundred percent!
Why would I make everyone melt into an ocean of orange?
It's simple, really. The truth is, _________________________!
Ha! Forget Joffrey, I'm the king of bastard–kind,
And Francisco Scaramanga's gun has nothing on mine,
'Cause I can one–shot anybody, anywhere, on any day;
That's right, it's Gendownage time! Brian, take it away!
Brian Johnson: FOR THOSE ABOUT TO ROCK…
*Gendo fires gun*
… WE SALU– *Record scratch*
(A caped figure suddenly jumps out in front of Rorschach, seemingly taking the bullet for him before landing sprawled on the ground… and getting up moments later, discarding the projectile from his bloodied hand.)
You know, I wasn't really sure that would work…
Well, folks, this has been quite a wild show we've had,
With a psychopath, an emo, and his deadbeat dad.
Here's hoping you've enjoyed the ramblings of these three stooges
As your host wraps up our evening; alright, let's do this!
My name is Veidt, and as I take over this fight,
I'll try to keep it polite, so just call me a white knight.
I'm an enterprising mastermind, self–made billionaire;
Feast your ears upon my funky words, ye mighty, and despair!
Let's start with you, "bastard king": you can't beat the king of kings.
I'll make you as my puppet; watch me tangle all your strings:
You've put a bullet in my palm, and my hand is badly bleeding,
But at least it's not implanted with an alien eyeball–seedling!
I'll strike you like a Thunderbolt with extraordinary grace;
Bring you down like Walter White, fallen flat on your face.
I had the balls to do what it took to save mankind;
I'd tell this little coward that, but he already seems resigned.
And as for you, Rorschach, must we really go through this again?
There's a whole book on me beating you: it's called Watchmen,
And don't say your journal took me down, 'cause that's a load of drivel;
No one can even read, much less believe, your tome of scribbles!
My Karnak base is cold, but my words are red–hot;
Slicing yours clean in half like the Gordian Knot!
I'm the world's smartest man; to put this bluntly as I can:
I won this battle half an hour before it began.
(To the tune of "A Cruel Angel's Thesis")
MOLE–MAN'S EP–IC RAP–RAP–RAP–RAP–RAP–RAP BAT–TLES! MOLE–MAN'S EP–IC RAP–RAP–RAP–RAP–RAP BAT–TLES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!