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| Written by | Cheesypickles564 BigShark81913 |
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Doug Judy vs Newman is a What-If? Death Battle written by Cheesypickles564 and BigShark81913 featuring Doug Judy from the comedy Brooklyn Nine-Nine and Newman from the sitcom Seinfeld.
Description[]
Brooklyn Nine-Nine vs Seinfeld! In every story, there is a villainous rival who fights against the hero. When these two great and goofy nemeses enter a good New York brawl, who will drive away victorious in a DEATH BATTLE!?
Interlude[]
Cheesy: Doug Judy, the Pontiac Bandit.
Shark: Newman, the Scofflaw.
Cheesy: Superman has Lex Luthor. Mario has Bowser. Ahab has the White Whale. Everybody has a personal rival, who strives to mess it all up for you and surpass you.
Shark: And sometimes, they’re laid-back jokesters with the same goal in mind! He’s Cheesy and I’m Shark!
Cheesy: And it's our job to analyze their weapons, armor, and skills to find who would win... a DEATH BATTLE!
Doug Judy: DEATH BATTLE!’s finest just got a whole lot finer! (BigShark81913)[]
(Cue: Brooklyn Nine-Nine Theme)
Shark: Cars, right? We all love em, and they seem to make the man. What if those cars got stolen? What would you do?
Cheesy: Enter the crime filled alleys of Brooklyn, where the biggest line of defense is the 99th Precinct, home of Detective Jake Peralta. He’s caught multiple criminals like the Oolong Slayer, Caleb the Cannibal, and Jimmy “The Butcher” Figgis, and yet, one elusive crook always escapes the law.
Shark: Meet the smooth criminal known as the Pontiac Bandit! Though, you can just call him Doug Judy.
Cheesy: Jake has spent many years trying to catch Doug, and he always messes up one way or another.
Shark: The first time they ended up actually meeting face to face was a complete mistake! Jake took Doug in for questioning, and the elusive crook led him down a rabbit hole of lies.
Cheesy: Doug framed his barber, Norman Lee, for the stealing of hundreds of Pontiacs, and he ran away and escaped arrest. However, that wouldn’t be the last of the Pontiac Bandit.
Shark: Cuz he’d come back again, and cut a deal with Jake and his coworker Diaz and gave them info on the location of a nose candy called “giggle pig.” Stupid name for a drug, not gonna lie.
Cheesy: He’d lead the duo of detectives to a drug den, where he ditched them to face off against a group of drug dealers all alone. They managed to take the ring down, but Jake was forever scarred by his failure to catch the Pontiac Bandit again.
Shark: Well, good news for him, cuz what goes around comes around!
Cheesy: However, Doug wouldn’t be able to stay stealing forever, and a bounty was eventually put on his life. A hitman was coming to get him.
Shark: So, the Pontiac Bandit took on the name “Horatio Velveteen” and ended up living on a cruise ship and working as the head pianist at a jazz lounge for old people. And guess what happened: Jake went on the same exact cruise.
Cheesy: Together, Doug, Jake, and fellow precinct member who Jake was… “smooshing booties” with, as he says, Amy Santiago, teamed up to lure the hitman into a closed spot and arrest him on the high seas. However…
Shark: Doug hitched a ride on an escape boat and went into the distance, with a new identity and new set of goals. That’s the end of him, right…?
Cheesy: After a few years, Doug would return to America and continue his Pontiac-stealing antics with slightly more experience and better car-napping skills.
Shark: Although he is a tad bit overweight, Doug is very athletic and good at running away in the nick of time. He can dash across entire drug dens in mere seconds and also slip into car seats untracked and drive away before getting caught.
Cheesy: He can also survive jumping off smaller buildings, and can easily recover from being slammed into tables and walls while being attacked by the assassin.
Popup: Doug can also sometimes keep up with his nemesis Jake Peralta, who could hurdle over objects easily and even dodge a go-kart.
Shark: Alongside his physical stats, he’s great at stealing cars, totaling at 250 Pontiacs stolen overall! And that leads us to his greatest stat: trickery.
Cheesy: As we explained before, Doug is a master at backstabbing people. He can sneak away undetected, and always end up getting his hands on a method of escaping.
Shark: Some tools he’s collected to escape are a megaphone, a keyboard, a deflatable raft, and even a handful of bullets with no gun!
Cheesy: Doug also keeps a handful of drugs on hand, including marijuana, giggle pig, and… wait really?
Shark: What? What does it say?
Cheesy: …he also keeps sex pills on hand at all times.
Shark: Smart move!
Cheesy: Ignoring… that, Doug has also shown strong feats of manipulation. Hell, he even faked his own death and tricked multiple trained detectives in doing so.
Shark: He was also able to lead his accomplices into a locked apartment room occupied by officers and manage to invade a drug ring with his own made-up identities. Though, as smart as he seems, Doug isn’t without faults.
Cheesy: Judy is laid-back and usually never takes any situations seriously. He’s also not the best at hand-to-hand combat or handling any weapons. Although he has these faults, he never loses his temper and likes to mock foes.
Shark: You’d better watch your back and hold your keys close, because the Pontiac Bandit is coming to steal your sick ride!
Doug Judy: “Doug Judy and Peralta and Captain on the case, jokes on you they was always friends, now ima get my immunity, the ghost of the talking dog haunts they precinct!"
“Newman eats a Chunky Bar in DEATH BATTLE!” (Cheesypickles564)[]
Cheesy: A profession makes a man—meek office jobs can build character, while running large corporations can build fame. We’ve covered gods, killers, downright psychopaths—but this raises a real question. What is the most terrifying profession?
Shark: It’s the mailman.
(Cue: Seinfeld Theme - Extended)
Cheesy: …what?
Shark: When you control the mail, you control the information, Cheesy! Have you ever seen these guys drive by?! Their little suits, their massive death-machine trucks—their stares! They’re fuckin terrifying!
Cheesy: Ugh…well, nobody hates mailmen as much as Jerry Seinfeld, especially one particular mailman—
Shark: Newman!
Cheesy: Seriously…this is the type of guy you’re afraid of? Shark: Look into those eyes, Cheesy…that’s pure evil. Jerry Seinfeld said so himself…
Cheesy: Yeah, and Jerry Seinfeld thought it was a good idea to make a movie on Pop-Tarts…the origin of Jerry and Newman’s feud is unknown, but one thing is known—Newman is Jerry’s complete foil.
Shark: The Lex Luthor to his Superman, the tuna salad to his chicken salad; I can go on. Thing is, every single one of Jerry’s problems normally stems from Newman!
Cheesy: He’s lead fleas into Jerry’s apartment, tried to get him arrested multiple times, nearly got him evicted…he absolutely has it out for Jerry.
Shark: That’s postmen for ya…they’re a powerful and nefarious organization who’ll stop at nothing—
Cheesy: What’s with you and mailmen?! Sigh…just like his feud with Jerry, Newman himself is an enigma—nobody knows his first name, his origin, his goals…it’s almost like his only purpose is to completely ruin Jerry’s life.
Shark: One of his two purposes, actually—while most of his time is completely devoted to messing with Jerry, Newman also has his eyes on fortune, trying to get as rich as possible!
Cheesy: Whether he’s running bottles across the border or stealing people’s mail, Newman’s schemes are always petty—problem is, they also always blow up in his face.
Shark: That’s why he always teams up with Jerry’s swindler buddy Cosmo Kramer for these schemes, which makes a butterfly effect that always ropes Jerry into the same schemes…you can’t outrun the mailmen, Cheesy…!
Cheesy: Of course I can! Look at this guy, he’s a butterball!
Shark: A surprisingly athletic butterball. While he lives his life on Twinkies and Chunkies, Newman’s actually pretty athletic—he’s capable of climbing trees and chasing Jerry across an entire apartment building!
Cheesy: But when stamina can only take you so far, a vehicle can help—lucky for Newman, he has his trusty mail truck!
Shark: This baby doesn’t look like much, but it’s been through a lot. Newman’s truck has been broken by a bunch of golf clubs, set on fire and so much more, and it’s still lived to tell the tale!
Cheesy: But Newman’s best weapon is his mind. He can’t mind-control or anything fancy, but he’s an excellent schemer.
Shark: Whether he’s on his feet or given some preparation, Newman always has a trick up his sleeve like when he got Kramer kicked out of a farmer’s house by…banging his daughter. Ouch.
Cheesy: And then there’s his ace-in-the-hole, the one thing that fuels his undying rage…chunky bars.
Shark: Newman practically runs on the raisin-y taste of this candy to the point that his presence can be detected by wrappers left around! Don’t let his eatin’ habits fool you, though, because Newman himself isn’t as weak as his diet.
Cheesy: The mailman can survive some really bad beatings, namely being on fire for multiple seconds and falling multiple times off an apartment building and surviving!
Shark: There’s really nothing that he’s faced that can pierce his whale-hide! But we all know the mailman’s worst enemy is the common dog…
Cheesy: And Newman himself has survived multiple maulings from dogs, living to tell the tale—multiple, multiple times.
Shark: …watch out, mailmen…because I’ll be bringing dogs to a mail fight…
Cheesy: What was that?
Shark: …Newman’s also comparable to Jerry and his friends, who are all able to pull off some bizarre stuff.
Cheesy: Like Kramer, who’s fought his way to the top of his karate class, survived getting ganged up on by athletes, and even fought off armed robbers while driving a bus!
Popup: We should note that Kramer’s karate class consisted of only preadolescent children.
Shark: He’s also equals with Jerry’s friends Elaine and George, with the former dropping another man in a fight and the latter being able to lift 100 pounds over his head…’course none of Newman’s feats can match his best one—drinking hundreds of bottles o’ Mello Yello.
Cheesy: I would normally jump on you for this, but really, that’s impressive. He even only felt a little queasy after doing that, too!
Shark: It didn’t kill him, but it weakened him…mailmen aren’t invincible to soda…I’ll need a few thousand bottles…
Cheesy: Hmm?
Shark: …get out of my face, this is my favorite part! Newman may seem like an invincible White Whale, but he’s got his own set of flaws.
Cheesy: He may talk a big game, but he’s actually a huge coward. When the going gets tough, Newman gets going—by running away. He can’t really run away fast, though, because even if he is surprisingly athletic, he isn’t at an athletic peak either.
Shark: And as said before, all of his schemes normally backfire—leaving him a broken loser after each failed plan…well, I’ve got a plan that won’t backfire, so see ya!
[We cut to Shark with a giant bag full of Mello Yello slung over his back, and a dog between his arm.]
Cheesy: Don’t tell me—
Shark: VIVA LAS ENVELOPE, MAILMEN!
[Shark runs out the door, leaving Cheesy alone in the room.]
Cheesy: Such tenacity…it’s actually admirable…the same can also be said about Newman—over the course of his existence, he’s never stopped trying to make things hard for Jerry and easy for himself…
[BOOM!]
Cheesy: Ugh…
Newman: “ALL RIGHT! But hear me and hear me well! The day will come, oh yes, mark my words, Seinfeld! Your day of reckoning is coming, when an evil wind will blow through your little playworld and wipe that smug smile off your face! And I'll be there in all my glory, watching, watching as it all comes crumbling down!“
Intermission[]
Cheesy: Alright, the combatants are set, and we've run the data through all possibilities. Feel free to vote for who you believe will win in the poll: https://strawpoll.com/wAg3A5oDly8
Shark: But now! IT'S TIME FOR A DEATH BATTLLLLLLLLLLE!!!!
Pre-Fight[]
SKRRT!
A shiny red car drifted through the streets of uptown New York, quickly turning and landing perfectly in a parking spot right behind a mail truck. It was a Pontiac, and it’s driver, a tall and erratic man with a horselike face, stepped out and slapped the side of the new vehicle. This was Kramer. “Giddyup!”
Sitting on the steps of the adjoining apartment was a mysterious—albeit obese mailman, who had eyes full of evil and pockets full of Twinkies. This was Newman, and he quickly picked himself up and ran towards the Pontiac.
“Excellent…” the devious mailman spoke, rubbing his hands together. “Now take a hike, Kramer—I’m just gonna run inside and be right out to test this sweet ride…!”
“You sure you don’t want me to stay and guard this baby?” Kramer looks down at Newman, who pauses his run to the door to listen. “We’re in New York—there’s thieves! Everywhere!”
“I said take a hike!” Newman snaps back, getting a shudder out of Kramer and prompting him to walk away. “Don’t say I didn’t warn ya!” Kramer yells to Newman, who scoffs and shakes his head.
“Imbecile!” Newman pumps his fist and scowls before opening the door to the apartment complex and running inside…
…and the second the mailman left, another mysterious figure turned the corner. Sporting a pair of aviators, Doug Judy’s jaw immediately dropped the second he saw the car. “And what have we here?”
The pristine shine of the red coating…the perfect amount of air tucked inside those fantastically circular tires…to any other man, this would simply be an automobile…but no, to Doug Judy, this was a blessing. “It’s beautiful…” Doug monologued as he gawked at the car.
The Pontiac Bandit creeped closer, wrapping his hands around the door’s handle. Fortunately for him, it was unlocked. “Hoo-mama…unlocked too?” Doug whistles before slipping into the seat and getting ready to drive.
The door to the apartment complex opened, and Newman waddled down the stairs, his eyes glued to his small, white cup of soup.
His eyes slowly raised as he took in the smell of the soup “Jambalaya…KRAMER!” The mailman’s voice took on a much angrier tone when he noticed his brand-new Pontiac slip out of his sight.
“HEAR ME WELL!” Newman stuck his head into the street and yelled to the escaping Doug Judy. “YOU’LL PAY!”
Newman looked to his side—his Mail truck! He had a chance to take his car back! As fast as his stout body could move, Newman slipped into the seat and drove off, holding the wheel in one hand and his soup in the other.
Meanwhile, Doug was cruising in the Pontiac, a devious smile etched on his face…
SPLASH!
The jambalaya was thrown at Doug, exploding on his back and getting his attention! “What ‘twas that?” The Pontiac Bandit asked, looking behind him…
And there was Newman, holding the wheel with both hands and flaring his puffy cheeks.
Hell hath no fury like a mailman scorned.
“Crap!” Doug yells, stomping down on the gas. He had to get away!
(Cue: Squash the Beef - Brandon Yates)
FIGHT![]
(Over to you, Shark!)
Newman wore a devilish grin as his truck rocketed after Doug. The Pontiac Bandit looked back and stuck his tongue out as he sped away. Furious, the Scofflaw pressed his flabby foot harder on the pedal and he instantly caught up to Judy. The brand-new Pontiac suddenly slammed itself into the side of the mail truck, throwing it off course and uprooting a fire hydrant. “Thanks for the ride, paperboy!” Doug mocked, as he drove out into the busy streets.
Newman growled and rode past the flood of water as he went down the same hill Judy was on. “You good for nothing thief! The paint job on that car was divine!” the treacherous mailman yelled. Meanwhile, Doug was quickly dodging incoming cars when he noticed the mail truck approaching him again. “Dammit!”
The Pontiac Bandit reached into his bag and pulled out a megaphone. “You won’t be getting this car back, I already told ya! Now beat it!”
Newman took a bite out of one of his many Chunky Bars, and in an instant, a flood of fury overtook his brain. His truck began to speed up, and Doug watched in shock as multiple cars were thrown to the sides as the mailman slowly approached. “Lemme tell you something about you thieves; you’re meaningless!” The Pontiac Bandit chuckled, and he turned his car around to meet Newman.
The two vehicles scraped each others sides, and Newman’s truck pinned the Pontiac against the walls of multiple buildings. Walking down the street was 99th Precinct officer Charles Boyle, holding a cup of coffee, and he noticed the hunk of metal charging towards him. He screamed and jumped into a nearby dumpster, narrowly avoiding being hit, and he grabbed his walkie-talkie. “Captain, I think you’ll need to send some officers down here.”
Meanwhile, the mailman reached into his compartment and started to throw letters down towards his foe. Doug swatted them away with one arm, using his other to steer the wheel and escape Newman. Before throwing his last letter in his handbag, Newman read it out loud. “Dear Jimmy, you have been invited to the wedding of George Costanza and- bah, who cares?” The Scofflaw tossed the letter downwards and it landed on the brakes of the stolen Pontiac. Doug looked down, and had an idea.
The Pontiac Bandit pressed his foot on the brakes, freeing his stolen ride from the wall and flinging Newman’s mail truck forwards. “Slurp slurp!” laughed Judy as he rolled the window down and managed to push his car off the wall. Newman picked his head up from the steering wheel and pressed the gas pedal again, following Doug Judy.
“I didn’t want to damage my car, but you’ve left me with no choice!” The Scofflaw yelled, and he reached into his pocket and pulled out the knife he used to open letters. He put his hand out the window, and he managed to stab a poor pigeon midair and throw it beak-first towards the back window of the Pontiac. Doug peeked into the back and saw the bird. “Ew, that’s nasty! Payback time!” The Pontiac Bandit dug through his pocket and pulled out a single bullet, and then tossed it out the window and it landed point-first on the road.
Newman’s expression immediately changed when he heard a hiss from his tire. His round little head popped out of the side of the truck, and he gasped when he saw the tire immediately deflating. The Scofflaw panicked, but he decided to pin one of his Mello Yello bottles onto the gas pedal and he crawled out the door like a spider. Judy peeked out the window and began to laugh. “Damn, bro! You look like a giant Spider-Man!” He heard Newman shout at him, but his foe’s clapbacks were interrupted by the loud sounds of police sirens. Instantly, Doug frowned, and he looked back at the road.
On the side of the truck, Newman began to comedically blow into the open hole of the tire until it was fully inflated again. He then unveiled a roll of duct tape from his shirt and resealed the wheel, and he looked to the side: the cops were coming! “Gahh! The police! Car thief, you’ve ruined me!” Infuriated, Newman scampered back to the driver’s seat and lifted the bottle from off the pedal. He then smashed it over the front of the car, gritted his teeth, and caught up to Judy. The Pontiac Bandit saw Newman hold the sharpened bottle, and he pulled the keyboard from his bag. “Let’s get Game of Thrones up in this bitch!” Doug yelled.
The Pontiac Bandit jabbed towards Newman, poking his belly and pinching him a bit. The Scofflaw grunted, and Judy began to laugh as he repeatedly slashed towards the mailman with his keyboard. Suddenly, Newman grabbed the keyboard and shoved it back towards his foe. “Nice shot, pretty boy!” he snickered, before slashing towards Doug’s face and splitting his aviators in two with the broken bottle of Mello Yellow. “My Top Guns!”
Doug wiped the blood from the cut on his face off, and Newman snickered before suddenly frowning. “Wait… who’s driving the car?” The mailman stared ahead, and his truck managed to uproot an entire stop sign. The Pontiac Bandit rubbed his hands together and said, “Come to papa!” He reached his arms out of the window and grabbed the sign before it hit the ground. Instantly, he pinned the sign into the hubcap of one of Newman’s back tires, yanking the mail truck backwards and spinning it in a huge circle.
The mailman picked himself up from the seat and firmly grabbed the wheel, slamming his foot onto the pedal and crushing an unfortunate bicycle that was lying on the sidewalk. “Oh, you’ll pay, bandit! Your day of reckoning is at hand!” The Pontiac Bandit snickered, and looked out the window towards Newman. “I’d like to see you bring my ‘reckoning’, paperboy! Come and catch me if you can!”
(Back to you, Cheesy!)
Stomping on the gas, Newman belted out a battle cry that quickly switched into a burp. The quick change in speeds allowed the mail truck to propel further forward and push itself atop the Pontiac—causing Doug to turn towards his opponent and let out a girly shriek.
“Rahaha!” Newman maniacally chortled as his truck accelerated, completely flattening the entire hood of the car atop Doug. The Pontiac Bandit’s immediate instinct is to accelerate his stolen car and release himself from the crushing weight of the mail truck and speed far ahead.
“Keep the chase going, pretty boy!” Newman snickers, stomping on the gas and pressing further towards the fleeing thief of the now-ruined car. The Pontiac was far ahead and had reached an intersection—and an ingenious plot formed in his head.
“Attaboy, doughboy—don’t be a killjoy!” Doug continues Newman’s maniacal insult, turning it into a rhyme scheme. He quickly jerks his hands to the left and spins the steering wheel, causing the car to follow in suit.
Doug had made a successful turn through the intersection, but Newman wasn’t as lucky—partially due to the weight of his truck and the driver being preoccupied with under-the-breath curses. “The mail never stops, and neither do—“
SLAM!
The mail truck collided with a stop sign and sent Newman’s truck spiraling down the path opposite of the one Doug Judy had taken. Not too far behind was the recently-dispatched police, who when faced with a choice between a criminal and a mailman—followed the mail truck down its path.
…
Standing near a curbside in downtown New York was the same Kramer fellow from earlier and his comedian friend Jerry. The former was smoking a cigar and the latter held a bag of groceries, his eyes quickly turning towards a loud noise in the streets.
“Ohohoh, Jerry that’s Newman’s new car…” Kramer informed the comedian, who waved his hand and scoffed.
“…wait, that’s not Newman!” Jerry said in a much louder tone, heralding the Pontiac’s quick zipping-by. “But that is! And there’s the police, too!”
Coming from an opposite street was the battered mail truck, holding an angered Newman inside and being followed by the full force of the NYPD. The scofflaw quickly zipped by Jerry—but not without reaching his arm out and snagging his grocery bag.
“Newman!” Jerry snarled through his teeth, pumping his fist in anger.
The mailman chuckled at his spoils before setting his eyes back at Doug, who still held a speed advantage. Despite being sandwiched between the cops and a car thief, Newman still fought back—forcing his chubby arms out of the window and throwing Jerry’s groceries at the Pontiac Bandit.
A carton of eggs smash into the back of the car, the cracking sound alerting Doug and causing him to riskily spin the Pontiac around. Fishing out his megaphone, Doug yells to Newman “This is your damn car, chubbs! Have some respect!”
He also cocks his head to the side and notices the wave of police cars quickly approaching him and his pursuer. “Damn feds…” Doug cursed angrily under his breath as he masterfully drove the car backwards. His hand returns from his pockets with a handful of bullets, and with a wish for luck, Doug threw them towards the mailman and the police.
“You pustule!” Newman yelled from his truck, effortlessly driving past the planted bullets. He fished a pineapple out of Jerry’s grocery bag, instantly throwing it towards the Pontiac and denting the back of the car.
The cop cars, however, had a harder time passing the piles of bullets laden on the ground. Multiple tires were popped, but one cop car’s weight on one bullet sent the lead firing towards the back of the mail truck—and succeeding a one-in-million chance, the bullet struck a hinge and opened the back of Newman’s trusty truck, allowing streams of mail to rain on the police.
“Dispatch, dispatch, send out—urgggh!” A policeman tried to call backup to end the fight, but the Mail that flooded the streets entered his vehicle and drowned out his words.
“THE MAIL!” Newman turns his chubby head to peer out the window, seeing the envelope-enveloped streets. “That’s it!” The mailman yelled with rage, mirroring Doug’s earlier action and spinning his car fully around—the mail flooded towards Doug now, and the Pontiac Bandit drifted his car around and switched his focus back to driving away.
Envelops, boxes and assorted packages all rained on Doug’s vehicle—and by some ungodly breaking of physics, the weight of the mail broke the hood of the car completely, making way for the mail to flood into the Pontiac.
“Dammit! I can’t see—!” Doug releases the steering wheel in his frustration and digs through piles of mail to find just what he needed…a plastic bag of marijuana.
Snffff…
“Now I see! I see COLORS!” A now absolutely high Doug lets out a dumb chuckle, grabbing the steering wheel and accelerating forward.
Newman continued to release mail towards Doug’s direction, his lack of eyes on the bandit causing him to let Doug slip away.
“Take this downpour—OH!” Newman’s voice switched to fear when bullets started firing from the remaining cop cars, prompting him to swerve the car back around moments before the shots could actually hit the truck.
Now actually facing the road, Newman realized how far ahead Doug was—and this angered him so much that sweat began to drip down his cheek!
“I’ll lick your stamp to kingdom come!” In his rage, the mailman began to throw out inconsistent insults as he sped further towards Doug. Spinning the steering wheel to the left, Newman led his truck to the side of the Pontiac, putting him and Doug at an equal spot in the road.
“Oh, hey~” the now-high bandit said to the angered Newman, his voice being muffled by the piles of mail in the Pontiac. His hand quickly shot up from the stacks of envelopes and launched a handful of sex pills at the mail truck—harmlessly tapping against the side of the truck and falling to the ground.
(Back to Shark again!)
“Drugs aren’t fair play, you vile weed!” Newman yelled, grabbing another Chunky Bar and loudly crunching it between his teeth. He quickly spun his wheel and rammed into the Pontiac, messing up his new car even more and destroying the paint job. “Well, now I don’t even want this damn car anymore! But we can’t stop fighting now, you catch my drift?” The high bandit goofily grinned at the mailman, not paying any attention to the road ahead. The Scofflaw gritted his teeth and yelled at his foe. “You dim-witted cannoli! I’ll pop you like a zit!”
Swerving the wheel again, the mail truck slammed into the Pontiac yet again and send some unfortunate passerby on a motorcycle flying through the air. Doug grabbed the wheel and managed to steer himself back on course, and then he grabbed the rearview mirror seconds before it fell off. The Pontiac Bandit tossed it towards the window of the mail truck, smashing through the plexiglass and sending shards flying towards Newman. “Gah! My window!” The shards dug into Newman’s arm, and the truck began to swerve off course and slow down. Doug snickered, and he pulled another bullet out of his pocket and held it in his hand. The Pontiac moved a few inches closer to the truck, and with a quick slash, the tire was destroyed, revealing only the hubcap.
Newman squealed, and he managed to grab the broken mirror before tossing it back down to Judy. The metal smashed him on the head, and somehow managed to sober him up. “Ughhh… are you still there, fatso?”
Infuriated at the insult, Newman spun the wheel around again, and the Pontiac was thrown directly into two police cars. Doug quickly crawled out of his seat seconds before the airbag deployed, and he grabbed a gun that had rolled out of a cop car. The Pontiac Bandit snickered, popped the airbag with a bullet, and slammed his foot onto the gas again. Dust surrounded the skies as the Pontiac rocketed out into the streets and followed suit to the mail truck!
“Horatio Velveteen strikes again!” These words filled Newman’s ears, and he peeked out of the broken window. “Nitwit!” he yelled, slamming his foot on the brakes and pinning his own truck to the floor. Doug’s eyes widened as he noticed this meant an imminent crash, and he grabbed the gun he stole from his side. His finger pressed down on the trigger, and a bullet erupted from the front of the gun and sped towards Newman! Time seemed to slow down for the Scofflaw, and he managed to grab a spare can from Jerry’s groceries before tossing it at the bullet. The vegetables spilled from the can, and the lead bullet continued towards the doomed mailman…
Until it missed him entirely and smashed out of the other window.
Doug frowned, and he crawled onto the top of the Pontiac and leaped onto the side of the mail truck. Newman yelled as his sweet ride burst into flames and crashed into the side of the mail truck, kickstarting the engine and sending the truck back in motion on the open road.
“Ahh! Get off me, lowlife bandit!” Newman yelled, launching Doug off his chest and scooting him to the other side of the mail truck. The Pontiac Bandit followed with a laugh. “We’re in your turf now, huh? This’ll be a blast, cuz I’m the one who stands last!” The rhyme only made Newman angrier, and he head-butted the thief who retaliated by jabbing the mailman in the chest. The Scofflaw wheezed, and his thieving foe grabbed a shattered bottle of Mello Yello and shoved it towards him. He managed to parry it with another Mello Yello bottle, and he proceeded to throw the filled bottle at Judy’s face. The Pontiac Bandit caught it midair, and managed to chug some of it before smashing them against the side of the truck and creating sharper weapons. “Time to feel the sting, paperboy!”
In an instant, Newman grabbed Judy’s keyboard that was dropped into his truck earlier and used it to shield himself from the blades. The Scofflaw used his mouth to pick up his letter opener and he swung it towards Doug, seemingly stabbing him in the chest. The Pontiac Bandit grabbed his chest, and began to wheeze. “Oh, the pain! The horror! You’ve killed me, fatass!” Newman let out a devious snicker as his foe slumped to the seat.
However, the bandit pulled the knife out of his chest and revealed his gold necklace that protected him. “Haha! Fakeout!” Newman roared, and he tackled Doug from across the truck. He used his foot to pin another Mello Yello bottle on the steering wheel, and he shoved the Pontiac Bandit into the back of the truck where only a few letters remained. “I’ll stomp you, insufferable bug! You’ll rue the day you messed with the mailman!”
“Jokes on you, tub of lard! I don’t order! I steal!” Doug then grabbed his megaphone from the bag he managed to drag on the truck, and pressed it against Newman’s ear before free-styling. “Ahhh! The hip-hop rhymes! Make ‘em stop!” Newman yelled, covering his ears. “Now, have a little ecstasy, man!”
Doug reached into his jacket and revealed a bag of Giggle Pig. He then unsealed the bag and poured it onto Newman, who squealed and rolled around. The mailmen began to erratically twitch as his vision was massively warped by the illegal drug. His fury, however, led him to grab a Chunky Bar and take a quick crunch. The raisin-y goodness of his favorite candy began to fight off the hallucinations, and he stood back up on his feet! Releasing a goofy yell, Newman tackled Judy again and they both rolled back into the front row.
What they forgot to do, was steer the wheel.
The car headed towards some crude oil being hauled across the street to who knows where. Doug spotted this, and he began to panic. “Oh shit, I can’t die to oil! My horoscope said otherwise!” The Pontiac Bandit reached into his bag, and grabbed the inflatable raft he used during his time as Horatio Velveteen. He pulled the pin, and the raft filled the room in the truck and absorbed the two fighters. The truck, however, wasn’t so lucky.
BOOM!!![]
(One last time, Cheesy!)
The explosion sparked a ring of fire around the crash, instantly getting the attention of all nearby citizens.
FWOOSH!
Bursting from the flaming remnants of the mail truck was a black-and-red inflatable raft that by some ungodly force had left Doug Judy unscathed. The Pontiac Bandit quickly reached his feet and switched to a fighting stance, his eyes shifting around in search of his opponent.
His gaze eventually locked onto the destroyed mail truck once more—there was a figure standing amidst the flames, his blurry silhouette sending shivers down Doug’s spine.
“WAHHHH!” The figure lets out a raucous battle cry before rushing out of the flames—it was Newman once more, who was untouched by the wreckage. In his hands was a mail knife which he attacked Doug with, releasing three subsequent swings of the miniature weapon.
“Woah, woah, woah!” Doug mocked the mailman as he stepped back each time, avoiding all three swings. Next, as retaliation, Doug quickly crouched down and forced his fist into Newman’s groin, prompting a…
“YOWWWW!”
The mailman stumbled backwards as a result of the attack; Doug stood back up and crossed his arms with confidence. “Even with your little mail sickle, you’ve put yourself into quite the pickle…”
“Quit that rhyming…!” Taking a pause from wheezing in pain, Newman tucked his arms against his chest and jumped towards Doug, successfully tackling the Pontiac Bandit. Newman pushed even further forward and pinned Doug against a nearby brick wall, also allowing the nearby flames to creep up on the Pontiac Bandit’s legs.
“Woahoho, such bad timing!” Doug chuckled as he pressed his hands against the brick wall and following up by pushing himself away from the wall. This crafty making of momentum allowed Doug to force his feet against Newman’s midsection and push him to the ground.
“…oof!” Newman grunted as his bottom slammed against the pavement. “…well, I’ll put an end to your crime-ing…yeah!”
Newman’s search for a fitting rhyme rendered him blind to Doug’s preparation of the gun he’d picked from the cop. “Alas, your plans coulda used some priming!”
BANG!
The shot whizzed towards Newman, who used his short pocket of time before the shot to kick himself away from his original spot. The mailman quickly wiggled to his feet before shrieking and comedically running off from the Pontiac Bandit.
“Get ready for your sliming—when you’re done, ‘way from the cops I’ll be gliding!” Doug continued the rhyming as he pressed towards his plump prey who was pacing away. A few more shots from the stolen pistol missed Newman—due to Doug’s bad aim and Newman’s deceptively impressive speed.
Despite his focus being mainly on running from Doug, Newman still tried to one-up the Pontiac Bandit with rhymes. “Seems that you can’t…uh…SHUT UP!” The mailman seethes, running around the ring of flames to avoid any potential shots.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
A few more shots missed the fleeing Newman, who took a break next to the flames to catch his breath. Doug slowly approached him, cocking the stolen gun. “Get with the times—you can’t even think of rhymes!”
With no other plan in mind, Newman simply threw himself to the ground and sunk his teeth into Doug’s foot, ripping through the shoe and piercing the bandit’s skin. “DAMMIT!” Doug yelled in pain, releasing the pistol and letting it fall to the ground.
Somehow slithering forward, Newman grasped the pistol and fired it at Doug’s face…
BANG!
…only for the bullet to ricochet off his already-broken shades and shatter them entirely. The same bullet rushes upward and out of sight, striking the tire of a stalwart car and putting it into motion down the sloped road.
“These kicks was new!” Doug hollers at the mailman, kicking him away and sending him sprawling on the pavement. The wounded Newman looked up and noticed the car rushing down the hill towards them…he had a plan…
WHAP!
…which could’ve been lost after Doug picked his broken keyboard from the rubble and slammed it into Newman’s head, smashing it against the pavement and knocking the mailman nearly unconscious.
Newman’s eyes shifted towards one of the only oil drums left on the road from the earlier crash. As the keyboard was repeatedly slammed into Newman, the mailman found the last piece of his plan—he quickly fished his last Chunky Bar out of his pocket and pushed it into his mouth, giving him enough strength to fire the pistol at the oil drum and send oil spilling into the center of the fire ring.
“You missed. Badly—!” Doug’s insults were interrupted by the bullet-struck car from earlier slamming into him at full speed, smashing the Pontiac Bandit against the side of a building.
Through the flames of the wreckage, Doug whimpered, “Dammit…now these shoes are ruined!”
“Chaos—it reduces us to jungle law!” Newman yells to the Pontiac Bandit, who was restrained in the wreckage. The mailman struggled to his feet and stood before the oil spill. “And in jungle law, only the biggest survive!”
“Hah…biggest…” in the face of death, the restrained Doug gets one last joke in…
“OLLY OLLY OXEN FREE!” Newman’s battle cry was unintelligible, as was his plan before all the pieces came together—the mailman leaped into the air and cannonballed into the puddles of oil, sending it all splashing towards the flaming wreckage that held Doug Judy.
KA-BOOM!
The chemical reaction between the oil and the flames caused the car wreckage to explode around Doug Judy, leaving only ash and a much bigger flame than before!
KO!
Newman’s face is red—he lets out a wild scream before realizing what would happen once the cops eventually catch up. Ignoring his wounds, the mailman jogs away from the flames and his defeated foe.
- Ending Screen A: Newman is standing above a trash can a far distance away from the crash site. He smiles and fishes a Twinkie out of the waste, taking a bite and continuing to run away.
- Ending Screen B: Having repurchased his groceries from another store, Jerry Seinfeld walks out and sees the bloody crash site, circled by police tape. “Newman!” Jerry yells, instantly associating the crime with the mailman.
Results[]
Shark: Dammit! If he can’t kill mailmen, then who can?
Cheesy: Despite these two being so-down-to-earth, this was actually one of the harder matches to figure out. Both of them were the same level of peak human that it was hard to find any solid advantages they had!
Shark: Yeah…Newman himself actually held a large physical advantage over Doug, with him being able to pull off more impressive stuff like being on par with karate master Kramer and surviving being set on fire! Damn, sealin’ those envelops must take a lotta strength…
Cheesy: Despite the fact that he’d get absolutely rocked if he got in close, Doug actually did have a few things that could snag him a win—his much larger arsenal and his much better mind.
Shark: There are some flaws with both of those things, though—while Doug’s arsenal was much wider, a lot of his stuff wasn’t exactly too useful in combat, save for a few whammies like his bullets.
Cheesy: Second, while his mind is superior to Newman’s in scheming, Doug excels in planning things out over a longer period of time, while Newman’s much better with thinking on his feet. Even though Doug was in slightly better shape, he simply couldn’t stack up against Newman’s strength, quick thinking and survivability.
Shark: Someone call Nine-Nine one ‘cause Doug got sealed!
Cheesy: The winner is Newman.
Trivia[]
- The connections between Doug and Newman are that they’re the overweight foils to the bumbling protagonists (Jake Peralta and Jerry Seinfeld) of acclaimed New-York based comedy shows.(Brooklyn Nine-Nine and Seinfeld).
