Crossover!?!
In a galaxy far away, a sand paper spewing reality tear grows...and grows...drawing in all life to this final stand! Scores upon scores of ninja apes appear and charge. The mad scientist Whizmen and stout Gouda Golems, united for the first cheesy time, begin their march. An entire flotilla, manned by the ocean going slug men people, sail into the final battle. The metalheads and the guardian dragon rock out for one last time. A giant Swedish meat cthulu, ridden by the fabled hero Gilgawulf, ride into legend. Everything. Everything is at stake here. Even the gods themselves, esoteric in their powers lend a hand.
For existence!
In Metro City, the gangs put aside their conflicts and beefing for the first time in eras. Together, they all enter the portal to the battlefield. "Tunnel Snakes Rule!" "For the Big D!" But this time, they cry together. They charge together. We are one big gang. The gang of everything, and we must stick together!
Fight the wave!
The weakening of the barriers have called forth a whole host of odd player characters of all sorts of powers. Captain Morgan Goldslager and his crew appear! Yarrr... this be it. Paul! Aye lad, it's been nice working with you. BLOW THE MAN DOWN, WE GIVE IT ALL WE GOT CREW!
Fat Fred and his malleable fat roll towards the wave. Huge Hammer and FastCash Gonzales, two showmen of different sports,putting on his usual bravado, charge forward! The time of the Hammer is upon us! Think you can outpace the FastCash? Don't think so cabron! The weird looking Bergman Karloff, propelled by his mass of tentacles, rushes forth to save his world and the lady he loves. A massive bottle, filled to the brim with malt liquor and confetti, fires it's divine energy at the wave! Miz'koth feels that if we don't stop this, the party is over!Dudebro Johnson, paddle in hand and vodka in the other, wakes up for one last bar fight. The bar fight of eternity. Even the normal folk like Saks Goldman and Hakeem Johnson, run to the defense of existence and to save the multiverse!
WE MUST LIVE
A well dressed man and his gang of assistants appears. Wha? Huh? Why am I here?? My RTD hasn't even been created yet! Jenkins! a lanky, bespectacled fella walks to him. Chairmen, I think the latest tests with the dimensional weapon portal device might have backfired... Bah! is the camera crew with us? Ah yes they are! Hey! You better start filming this! If we make it, the ratings will be unimaginable! Everyone else, grab a weapon and attack! WHAT DO I PAY YOU FOR!?! ATTACK! ONLY ON PAY PER VIEW, GENTLEMEN!
For the past! For the present! For the future!
But there's still a few more....Another rift opens....and a presidential foot steps out. An evil presidential foot. An evil Steampunk Presidential foot. EVIL STEAMPUNK LINCOLN, Gatling gun in hand, has arrived. HIGH FANTASY JOHN WILKES BOOTH joins him!
EMANCIPATE THE SHIT OUT OF THE WAVE!
We are us. And some stupid wave isn't gonna change that. At least, not without a fight!