Actually, I think Cavendish surpasses Shut (like Oberyn surpasses Renly), but the other one is also worth the pain to watch and to enjoy. Like a lighter flavour of the same: Plain Coke vs. Coke Zero, or usual beer vs. Radler. Cavendish/Oberyn is the real thing, Shut/Renly is the lighter, fluffier version for those who want something less outrageous but nevertheless stylish
(Besides, one day I'll do Oberyn Nymeros Martell vs. Renly Baratheon. And leave it up to you to guess how it will end)
SHUT: I'm sexy and I know it... (confidently strikes a dance pose) What have you got, young swordsman? Let me see your dreams, what lies beneath those hard and smooth white chocolate squares, by piercing right through your sternum with a keyhole as you stand in shock. Let me then shut your dreams within a prison of despair, bolted with our Dysdark padlocks...
SHUT: Is that all you can muster? Knockoff... Those fair ringlets and soft frills, and that flamboyancy... even your rose has my serial numbers filed off! Bet your princess charming still has you in the friendzone! Well, let us assess our weaponry: you've got freaking padlocks and I've got a royal rapier, which happens to be thin and hard enough, perfect for picking keyholes. And that shirt... Are you really that sissy? So afraid of showing your pecs in public that you wear a shirt? No matter how many frills... I'm too sexy for my shirt, so sexy it hurts...
SHUT: That's right: if my skin were less sensitive to sunlight (we Dysdarks are not humans, after all), I would show you what a soft and hairless bar of white chocolate I keep in this silken package. And... Well, don't mention Towa...-ilight, for she's no longer on my mind and I've got another issue. I find it hard with a foil of a rival, a less sensitive fellow whose hairstyle and attire are beyond the limits of indecency...
CAVENDISH: Punk foil rival my arse! Every sensitive guy needs a more indecent and fierce foil within the same faction, but even my rivalry with my foil preceded yours! Wait and see when I'm finished I stab you with my Durandal (name of his rapier) right where it hurts the most!
SHUT: Allons-y donc! Cold steel down there will barely hurt me at all! And we will gather the despair from your defeat!
Thus, you will end up like Joffrey Bratty-Horns-On!
CAVENDISH: Please allow me to retort. You were not the one who turned Lock into a kitten...
While this faithful servant killed Dellinger with this rapier and these hands.
And where were you when Lock was "purified"?
SHUT: I am no craven. I just sought security... But I did what I had to do, let the Precures off the horny kid of a usurper... I am a careful general, and that's why I retreated.
You see? I am your... your counterpart from another universe! The proof of your popularity! Suck my rose! (I swear it's not poisoned!)
CAVENDISH (noms on Shut's rose, looking clearly pleased, without saying anything, then swallows the whole flower, wiping his lips with a flowered lace handkerchief as he removes the stalk from his lips).
SHUT: Well, guess I'll have to bend the knee before you... after all, you are the original me, and I'm but a knockoff with ridiculous make-up and craven enough to hide my pecs from light. I'm a Dysdark, you're a... Dyslight, if I may coin the term. Good night, my original self...
Both Shut and Cavendish go to sleep and the latter awakens with his dark personality unleashed...
HAKUBA (the dark side): All right, let's kill this upstart, this travesty of mine, who thought he could rival "the fairest of them all", but is not even second to the holder of the title... (Draws steel and wistfully tickles Shut's throat with the blade of his rapier)
CAVENDISH: Let... Shut... live! No matter if he's an expy and a travesty... at least he's the proof that you've become so popular that you've got other selves across genres and universes! Get away from me! (After a great struggle, takes control of Cavendish and puts Durandal back in its scabbard, as he kisses Shut's lips and whispers "Good night, sweet prince" in his pointy ear...).
SHUT (laying his right hand on Cavendish's bare chest, muttering): Shut... your... dream...
OUTCOME:
Cavendish-2//Shut-1 (PS. Hakuba-0)
This is a kikóshi rap battle in prose... Interesting...
ResponderEliminarThat's right. Shut is a Cavendish travesty expy.
EliminarAnd as for Oberyn vs. Renly... impatiently waiting for that one.
Just thought of this: Shut=Cavendish (kikóshi, aristocrat);
ResponderEliminarLock=Dellinger (Joffrey Bratty-Horns-On);
Shut vs. Lock (interservice rivalry)=Cavendish vs. Dellinger (enemies in battle),
Shut outlived Lock as a Dysdark=Cavendish killed (?) Dellinger.
It becomes more perfect once Dellinger and Lock are mentioned. And the Joffrey nickname... Dellinger, being blond and more extravagant, is more Joffreyesque than Lock...
EliminarThink the next battle will be Joffrey=Dellinger. Just to see everything that they can say and do to one another. The ruthless sociopath with stepdad issues and the eccentric half-human orphan foundling.
Crossbow vs. stiletto heels.
Decapitation High Heel=Ned Stark's head. Pistol High Heel=crossbow bolts. Horns on Dellinger's head=Antlers on Joffrey's crown=Baratheon adultery.
Surname similarity: DeLLiNGer=LaNNiSTer (much like KaFKa=SaMSa).
Dellinger's noblewoman's laugh (kyahaha!).
Dellinger's falsetto (for casually talking) and deep voice (for fighting and threatening rivals).
And Purple Wedding references obligatory. To Sugar (Joff would call her jailbait, and drop a monocle reference) and to Margaery, and to the Strangler affair... Sugar vs. strychnine, due to flavour and effects.
Eliminar"My girl is earnestly all Sugar, yours is well-masked strychnine!" or something like that. Followed by some snark that Joff can't hold his drink (in the two meanings of the expression).
Who would begin? Joffrey, being royalty.
ResponderEliminar"Hehehe, I get the feels, a fop clad in stiletto heels.
So come at me, you fairy boy, face to face...
Bend the knee before His Grace!"
Dellinger:
Eliminar"Look in my eyes, 'Your Majesty',
Sure, you go 'Westeros, that's me!'
We rule Dressrosa,
live la vida loca,
it's all Art Nouveau like in Catalonia!
Though we shoot SAD,
we always SMILE,
it's the brand new drug with style!
Kyahahahaha!"
Joffrey:
Eliminar"Give me, missy, give me your fruit:
I don't give a Dornish freaking hoot!
No matter if you're seeing red, you creep,
I'll have my Kingsguard lock you in the Red Keep!
Oodles of sharp teeth, but no swag? Come on!
Mine is the Fury, Baratheon!"
Dellinger:
Eliminar'Ba-ra-the-on'? So bring it on!
Was adopted by Doffy and Corazón,
never knew my parents, but was adored
by the loving motley family of a great lord!
To you, Father's Day must be a real pain...
do you know who your dad is, if you have a brain?
Here's a clue
for you:
he wasn't that fat bearded arse who beat you and drank himself to death!
I will reveal your true heritage ere your royal lungs draw their last breath!
Lannister!"
Joffrey:
Eliminar"Dellinger!
Well, I don't believe that one-liner!
If I am truly inbred, I am no fighter dancing through the fire!
Champion! Hear me roar!
Rising even higher than before!
At least my blood is purer than yours,
spawn of interracial two-back-beasting, called the kettle black, of course!
Untermensch, half-human vermin, you would better say farewell!
I will keep your head as trophy for my bride, Margie Tyrell!
Dellinger:
Eliminar"The bride not chosen by love, chosen by the State!
She is pleased with you and you with her, or so I heard relate!
Had you been raised not by dysfunctionals, you'd have chosen well...
but Grandad has to pay his debts, and thus, you'll wed a Tyrell!
Don't you think she's too good to be true?
Well, here are a few words of caution for you!
In the ways of love, I take no chance,
thus, I've spared revenge and a bad romance!
I love my sweetie like a sister,
and, when we've parted, freaking missed her!
Take a lesson from me and my blueberry,
don't get fooled by the looks or the wit of your Du Barry!
My sweet teddy bear is sugar; yours is sharp, bitter strychnine,
and you're unaware till you have drunk her Reach-pressed Arbour wine!
So Joff the Toff, what do you think?
We all know that you can't hold your drink...
Joffrey:
EliminarSugar... ooh ooh, honey honey,
bet your candy girl costs a lot of money,
And besides, she's below the age of consent!
At least, Sansa was nubile, and thus, I am more than a gent!
Sibling love, you feel for a child...
I make all the ladies at court go wild!
Though your Sugar baby's too young for me, I just love pain,
I don't care what future maesters will say about my reign!
Dellinger:
EliminarWhat do I hear? His Grace hard on gals?
Do you have the guts to face your spear-side pals?
For picking on women is a sign of a coward,
maybe as retaliation for the stepchild who once cowered!
I know Lannisters shit gold, but not at the other end!
You're a spoiled royal brat without a single friend!
We Donquixotes are family,
I've got all my nakama and me,
more than friends, though not bound by blood ties,
dreaded through the New World and Paradise!
All you Lannisters are literally fucked up! See what inbreeding has wrought! this receding at court,
losing all that you sought!
That whole story's kind of corny,
but you'll see how I get horny!
Puny mock antlers on your crown: it is clear
your golden mane can't make you pass for a Baratheon deer (/dear)!
Oh, that's so see-through!
Wait till I'm done with you!
These horns do grow on this head so fair,
and they're meant for goring royals Gods know where!
Joffrey:
EliminarThis crossbow is loaded, and the trigger is to move!
Surely, today His Grace will his marksmanship skill prove!
I'm not going to kill you, for I need a new Clegane
to replace the stray that left us at Blackwater Bay!
Only when I have grown weary, I'll go "off with his head!"
Send you to Ilyn Payne ---not before tortures and dread---
"Fighting fish..." I will set your severed dome on a pike,
and besides, I'm sure that my drink they'll never spike.
And my Tyrell wife and me'll behold the head of a traitor,
like I once showed Sansa Stark. So bend the knee, agitator!
Dellinger:
EliminarJoff, you toff, you keep me seeing red!
I swear that soon, Your Grace, you will fall heels over head!
Kyahahaha!
My high heels will decapitate you like Lord Ned!
The North remembers its fallen, and your karma lies ahead!
Ere you pull that trigger and fire that dart into my chest,
my stilettos kick like pistols, and you'll get that needed rest!
Pumps purple as your wedding will bring on your beheading...
(Pause.)
For these pumps are made for walking, and that is what they'll do!
Today, Your Grace, these pumps are gonna walk all over you!
Dellinger:
EliminarKyahahaha!
Joffrey:
So the sissy grew a fin, that he kept under his skin,
symbol of that painful sin not caused by our breeding in!
Oh, treason of the blood! And, speaking of blood,
heard the crimson liquid makes you fill with dread. Oh, Seven Gods!
While I sip my Arbour red, without fear of dropping dead,
thinking of on which pike of the Keep I'll fix your head!
Dellinger:
EliminarThis preposterous young royal keeps on so smug and secure,
upon facing an opponent who's equally immature.
I may be afraid of blood, and I acknowledge this flaw,
but, Lannister, you've just met your Trafalgar D. Water-Law!
Now guess who's the real me, and who's the replicate!
Probability decreases, if you find out, it will be too late!
Kyahahaha!
I will dodge your every shot, with these eyes glowing red hot,
riddling your chest with stiletto holes ere you get to tie the knot!
Guess your wedding won't pay the debts of Lord Tywin,
when I slap your lifeless pale face, just like the Imp, and roar "I win!"
WHO WON?
WHO'S NEXT?
YOU DECIDE.