Colossus vs Sir Arthur
"Bozhe moi! I only meant to drive him back! I did not mean to... to..." Colossus said in shock, standing over the knight whose armor he'd shattered into pieces. No one could survive such an impact.
He turned away, overcome by sorrow. Though the X-Men sometimes had to resort to violence, it was never an easy choice. This death in particular felt beyond senseless. But an instant later the knight sprang up, now clad in only a pair of strangely modern undergarments—white boxer shorts, polka-dotted with red strawberries. "Hah! It'll take more than that to do me in, knave!" he shouted.
Colossus stared at him. The knight was a hale, strapping fellow, muscular and hairy-chested. A full beard covered his face, brown and unstyled. A bit on the short side. He looked, in fact, much like a toy Colossus had played with as a child. Or he would, at least, if he was wearing more than his underwear. "You... you live?"
“Of course! I am Sir Arthur, knight-protector of the realm! So long as I remain devoted to my shining princess, nothing can stand in my way!”
In truth, it would take exactly one more hit to send Sir Arthur howling to the continue screen, but he chose not to tell his opponent that. Rather, he dove at the large Russian mutant, a golden lance appearing in his hand. He threw high and Colossus raised both metal arms to defend himself. With his height Arthur was then able to dart right between the big oaf's legs. Colossus naturally then bent over to try and grab him, which set him up perfectly for the next phase of Arthur's plan. The knight took out his next weapon—a golden paddle, awash in holy energy—and took aim at a most fitting target.
"Now let's test your mettle!"
"Is that some sort of pun—AAUUGH!"
KA-POW!
Colossus gaped as he was propelled forward, a profound sting across his buttocks. He felt the pain, even in his armored form! In fact, it was as if he hadn’t been armored at all. He whirled to see Sir Arthur chuckling, gazing at the paddle fondly. "Enchanted. As you can see, it bears a thwack equal to its pedigree, eh?"
"How is that possible?" Colossus asked, "My armored form renders me immune to magic."
"Perhaps to that of common hedge mages, sir, but this here paddle is bespelled by Merlin himself! And he claimed it could be wielded only by the truest of knights!" Sir Arthur announced. He squatted back into a fighting stance. "Speaking of, thy tongue is strange, Sir Colossus. I can tell from thine garb thou'rt a knight like me. Are thee from a distant land?"
"A knight? Me?" Colossus looked down at himself, covered head to toe in gleaming steel. "I suppose I can see how you would come by that conclusion. But no, I am no knight. Unless you mean... in my imagination."
"Ah, then you are a usurper! A rogue agent who wishes to denigrate the good name of knights all over the world!"
Colossus's face darkened. "I did not say that."
"Oh, you've said quite enough, sir!"
The shortstack came at him again, a lance somehow reappearing in his grip. Colossus was forced to block his advance once more. To tell the truth, he did not wish to hurt the man. He seemed quite mad. Additionally, Colossus had always admired the Knights of the Round Table for their ideals and nobility. He did not wish to fight a man who reminded him so much of them.
Even if, at the moment, he more closely resembled an old man tilting at windmills.
So Colossus did not fight back as Arthur’s attacks bounced harmlessly off his armored body. He instead went to simply grapple him. "Please, sir! I do not wish to harm an old man!"
"Wha—I'm only twenty eight, you whippersnapper!"
The lance clanged off Colossus steely pecs, so Arthur flourished his sword instead. A series of swift slices and he was past his adversary like a knight at a joust. He sheathed his blade with a sniff. "Perhaps that will put you in your place."
Colossus shook his head in exasperation. "You cannot harm me. Do you not see? I am not a knight like you, but a mutant. I have been gifted with powers and abilities far beyond ordin—eh?"
Looking down at himself, he realized that, while his body was indestructible, his costume was not. Cuts appeared in his X-Men uniform, rapidly lengthening and joining together. It was only by acting at the last instant that he was able to cover his metallic groin as his spandex all burst off at once. "I... I... You...!" he stammered, standing there naked and gleaming.
"Hah, what a sight you present! Now do you see, villain? This is how true heroes fight the forces of evil! Through righteous PUNISHMENT!"
He flourished his paddle again in anticipation of giving the metal man a good spanking. But before he could dart around and deliver the final whack (all men were defeated through a mere two hits, weren’t they?) a large metal hand closed around the handle and took it from him. Sir Arthur gaped.
"Excuse my frankness, tovarisch, but I think it is you who needs to be punished. And I know just how to do it."
"But—but only a true knight can hope to hold the Excalipaddle!" Arthur said, shocked. "One so pure of heart that he's not tempted by... by..."
"I told you I am no villain."
In short order Sir Arthur was folded over Colossus's hard, metal knee and his boxers tugged down. The loss of his last piece of protective 'armor' effectively defeated him, but unlike most games Arthur had taken part in this time the screen did not go dark. Rather, his defeat was only beginning.
SMACK! SMACK!
"Ahhhh!" he shouted as the X-Man spanked him with his own paddle, hard enough to immediately bring color to his muscled cheeks.
"Perhaps next time you accost a fellow hero, you will listen when he explains he is just passing through looking for his friends!"
"Ohhh! Q-quite right, Sir!" Sir Arthur wiggled. “Ah! I am… ooh, I think I’m beginning to realize something!”
“And what is that?”
"That even the most gallant knights needs a proper humbling from time to time. And that it is evidently time for—Oooh!—mine!"
Colossus shook his head. Sir Arthur had a toned, muscular rear all covered in curly brown hairs. It wasn't nearly as hairy as, say, Wolverine's, but was certainly respectable. He dropped the paddle to the ground and applied himself to turning the whole surface of it red with his bare metal hand, beating each cheek evenly with stinging smacks. The proud knight cried out and squirmed with each slap.
"Ahhh! H-harder, sir! Do not hold back on me due to misplaced regard for my pride! I've earned every whack!"
"I wasn’t planning to," Colossus growled, continuing at the same steady pace. “Do not take this the wrong way, Sir Arthur, but I will punish you as I deem fit, not you. I am in charge, you see?”
"Ah! Such discipline! Such honor! Sir Colossus, you punish as well as you fight! That's it! You've finalized my decision!"
"Your... decision? To do what?" Colossus asked.
"Simple, my good man. You told me you were not yet a member of any knightly orders, is that not so?"
Yet? Colossus shook his head carefully. "That is true, I am not."
Arthur took a deep breath even as the metal palm landed on his burning buns again, heating the globes hotter with every slap. "Now I understand why Merlin sent me here. That magical paddle was not for me, but... for you! Please, Sir Colossus, consider my request. When this is all over, will you perhaps journey with me to Camelot, and there join me at the Round Table as a fellow knight?"
Colossus gaped at the request. But a moment later, he could not keep a rather boyish grin from taking over his features.
“Me? A knight?”
“Verily! Though I must tell you, in truth what the Round Table needs most isn’t a fighter—but a disciplinarian. Sir Gawain in particular has been rather ornery of late. Challenging his brothers to battle, disrespecting fair maidens… and he’s hardly the only one. Many of the Round Table knights needs a strong palm, I daresay. And I doubt we can find one stronger than yours.”
Colossus looked down at his steel hand with a chuckle. "Agreed,” he said. He thought about the offer long and carefully before giving a slow nod. “I think… I would like that, Sir Arthur. I think I would like that very much."
And, as if to christen such a plan, he swung his metal palm even harder against Arthur's upturned bottom, and the noble knight wailed in true contrition.