Rambo vs Snake Plissken

Rambo vs Snake Plissken

Disclaimer: I do not own Snake Plissken or John Rambo. Both of these characters are owned by others. I own only this computer I type on.


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John Rambo

Shows the great hero himself. Rambo shouts and screams as he mows down hordes of enemies while dressed in camo and tank top.

Vietnam Veteran and special forces member turned criminal who slayed many police and national guardsmen in his PTSD fuelled rampage.

Announcer: S.D. "Snake" Plissken

A man sits in a bleak concrete area in darkness. He has an eye patch and a lean, sharp look. His chin rests on his fist and he appears to be pondering. Suddenly, a spotlight shines on Plissken and his eye snaps open. He stands up and the camera pans back to reveal that he's surrounded by corpses with their throats slashed, skulls crushed and necks broken.

Former member of spec ops group Black Flight and veteran of the battle of Leningrad in World War Three.
Announcer: Here in Los Angeles, our team of elite doctors, scientists and computer experts have gathered to do just one thing: find out who would win between these tough as nails sons of bitches.
Resident computer whiz Max Geiger takes the scene. "I'm going to have to go with Plissken on this one. He's got two purple hearts and he's the youngest soldier to ever be decorated by the president during the Leningrad and Siberia campaigns."

Biomedical expert Geoff Desmoulin disagrees with his nerdy buddy. "No way, Rambo is going to take this match. When he fought in Vietnam, he was captured by the VC and tortured repeatedly. That baptism of fire really made Rambo a hundred times stronger. Plissken is just a greedy criminal."

Armand Dorian contrasts the two fighters. "What's interesting is that both of these men feel betrayed in some way. For Rambo, he's shocked and hurt by a civilian population that calls him baby killer and rejects him. For Plissken, he's mad about at the government itself for when the Leningrad Ruse killed a hundred thousand soldiers needlessly. If some hippy called Plissken a baby killer, he'd probably say, 'thank you."

Announcer: Representing Rambo in today's match will be Green Beret Colonel Trautman and Sherrif Will Teasle.

Trautman was Rambo's commander. An old and stalwart solder, the Colonel taught Rambo everything he knows. Sherrif Teasle is a short, fat bastard who was Rambo's nemesis in the original book. With him he brings firsthand knowledge of what it's like to be Rambo's enemy.

Announcer: For Team Plissken we have Hershe Las Palmas and Harold "Brain" Hellman

Hershe is a transsexual thief formerly known as Car Jack Palmas. Hershe has the outward appearance of a rather beautiful woman of mocha coloured skin and bleached hair. In addition to grand theft auto, Hershe is guilty of twenty accounts of first degree murder, ten of drug smuggling, three of grand theft and for not paying the surgeon who did the gender change surgery.

Brain is a professional criminal. He's a tall, lanky man dressed in a dirty white trench coat and faded blue ascot. His face is gaunt and ghoulish. Brain is exactly the kind of man that you would hire in a monster movie so that you won't have to spend money on special effects makeup. Once upon a time he was a co worker of Plissken's in the league of professional crime, but he left him behind during a botched robbery of a federal bank.

Announcer: This fight will be a battle of opposites

Hardened survival instincts

Rambo cowers in the jungle like an animal. With him he's got a pistol, one clip and a knife; more than enough to kill the squad of men that are getting closer.

Versus cold ruthlessness

Snake Plissken is breaking out of prison. Casually, he tosses a smuggled grenade into a room full of guards. When the dust clears, he steps over and on the guard's bodies on his way to freedom.

A patriot

Rambo battles returns to the jungle to battle communist forces in South East Asia.

Versus a hardened criminal

Snake Plissken is in the act of robbing a bank. To prove to the staff that he's serious, he shoots a clerk in the knee. The look on his face says that he will tolerate no trouble.

It's time to find out

Who

Is

Deadliest!
Announcer: Things are heating up as our two special forces heroes go head to head. Each team is confident that their man has what it takes.

Hershe takes camera first. For such a beautiful woman her voice is very mannish. "I worked with Snake and I helped him escape from L.A. There's no way he won't be able to handle some half Italian pretty boy."

Sheriff Teasle is confident he's backing the winning side. "Rambo destroyed half of my fucking town! That shit kicker is damn near unstoppable. He's kicking that snake guy's ass for sure."

Stats:

Plissken: Ingram M-10, MK3A2 Concussion Grenade, PKM Machine gun, ballistics knife

Height: 5'10''

Theatre of operations: United States/Russia

Rambo: M-16 Assault Rifle, Claymore mine, M-60 Machine Gun, PSG-1, Trench Knife

Height: 6'1''

Theatre of operations: United States/Vietnam

Announcer: As Max prepares a program developed by Slytherin Studios, our experts will get to test our explosive weapons.
To begin our experts will test the capabilities of the MK3A2 concussion grenade. The three hosts of the show as well as the guest experts all stand out in a desolate, rocky environment in which there is nothing around for miles. Brain explains the mechanics of the explosive device. "This thing is a concussion grenade. It uses sheer explosive power to kill targets."

Geoff, who has trained with the Canadian military, nods at this fact. "That's right, most explosives try to use some form of shrapnel."

"Yeah, thank you for stating the obvious. This little number is going to win this round because it has more casualties within its effective range." Brain brushes Geoff off.

Sheriff Teasle mocks the former mate of Plissken. "Nice firecracker; is it any good."

Brain rolls his eyes at Sheriff Teasle. "Why don't you go back to marrying your sister, you greasy hillbilly." Teasle is visibly angry at this statement but nobody pays him any mind.

Colonel Trautman is sceptical of the concussion grenades. "I've trained with nearly every form of explosive known to man. Those sort of grenades are good for clearing out bunkers but no grenade known to man can match the weapon that we're bringing with us."

In a stiff way, Brain accepts Trautman's challenge. "Let's wait and see then."

In the testing zone, four dummies have been set up in a circle around a grenade attached to a wire. Each dummy is fitted with a pressure detector that will measure if the dummy is disoriented, injured or dead. Each dummy is farther away from the grenade than the last.

Behind protective glass, the crew prepare to detonate the explosive. Max Geiger holds the switch. The safety is off and the area is cleared of all save for one unlucky gopher. "3... 2... 1... FIRE!"

The explosion is powerful. It's the kind that you feel with your bones because your ear drums have burst. We're talking a glass shattering explosion from half a block away. As always, the Deadliest Warrior team never grow tired of seeing something mean and deadly go boom.

High speed footage shows the dummies being knocked back by the concussive force of the bomb. When the team finally arrives at the dummies are leaking out fake blood all over the ground.

Close inspection reveals that three of the dummies would not make it. Armand tells it with a straight face. "The first guy is dead of the shockwave. He's not just dead, his organs are jelly." He approaches the second dummy. "At ten feet, this guy is also dead. If this was a person, his brains would be coming out of his ears." They walk up to the third dummy. "I'd hate to say this but this guy is dead at twenty feet."

The fourth dummy, thirty feet out, is a change of news. "This guy is alive. He'll just have a head ache that'll need more Tylenol in a day than most people take in a week."

Max takes down the results on his little hand held computer. "Three casualties and one stunned."

Colonel Trautman points out a crucial fact. "They're all dead but you realize that this is less than half the range of a fragmentation grenade."

Geoff counters this. "That's true, most frag grenades go for fifty feet but even at this range of twenty feet most frags don't get this kind of kill count."

Brain picks his teeth with a mint scented toothpick. He looks calm and laid back in a neurotic sort of way. "What he said," pointing at Geoff.

Announcer: Team Rambo moves in with their own explosive toy: the famous claymore mine!

A single claymore mine has been set up with the business end facing a quartet of pig carcasses. Hershe doesn't think highly of the bulky weapon, which resembles a square shaped plate that gets planted in the ground. "Nice toy, I had a souvenir just like it one time." Her deep voice is sassy.

Trautman ignores the taunt from the transsexual. "Say what you will, this weapon was the terror of the Viet Cong and anybody who was unlucky enough to set off the trip wire."

Announcer: The claymore mine is an explosive device which has a load of shrapnel on only one side of the bomb, allowing the bomb setter to aim this lethal weapon.

Trautman has set up the trip mine just as he would in the deep, dark jungles of 'Nam. With the contraption ready to fire, Trautman runs for cover behind the safety glass. Being the stubborn man that he is, he won't allow anyone but him to set off the deadly weapon.

The countdown is given and at the pull of a cord, the trip wire is set off. For the barest split second nothing happens. The deadly mine explodes, showering the pig carcasses with shrapnel like a massive shotgun. The whole surrounding area is peppered with a hail of shrapnel. Four more pigs have given their lives for science.

Our experts review the destruction. Geoff goes first. "The concussion grenade was deadly, no two ways about it."

Armand goes next. "That's true, but the mine was far deadlier. We had the same number of kills at a greater distance with a much greater arc of destruction.

Brain defends his team's weapon. "Don't forget that our weapon is mobile. Snake can carry a dozen grenades with him at once, but Rambo can only take one claymore with him."

Hershe steps in to help her partner's argument. "Some Viet Cong grunt may fall for that thing, but Plissken can spot a trip wire with his eyes shut. He's got the same training as Rambo and he's smarter."

Trautman appraises Hershe coolly. "I'm prepared to debate that with you."

Announcer: While the concussion grenade packed a lethal punch, it couldn't hold a candle to the claymore mine.

Edge: Rambo

Now it's onto medium range weapons. Team Rambo takes the lead with the M-16 rifle, staple weapon of the American boys who battled it out in the mud in 'Nam.

In the guns testing area, three moving dummies have been set up as well as a dozen fake blood filled splatter balls. The splatter balls each are of various sizes and are designed to test a marksman's mettle. Trautman gives a quick rundown of the weapon. "Officially known as Rifle, Calibre 5.56 mm, M-16 was the standard weapon of the US army in the Vietnam War. It came to replace the earlier M-14 rifle."

Putting his goggles on, Trautman starts to take aim at the targets. "It is famous for producing devastating hydrostatic shock in targets and heavy damage by bullet fragmentation."

Max starts the clock and the Colonel does what he was trained to do. The machine gun roars and spits bullets at the largest of the splatter balls, producing a lovely splatter pattern that would look nice as a piece of abstract art. Rapid shooting leaves each of the splatter balls from largest to smallest in ruins.

Then Trautman gets to work on the dummies. With superb shooting, he loads up a new clip and unleashed holy hell on the mobile dummies. In vain the foam human surrogates try to get away from it but to no avail.

Armand analyzes the damage. "The first guy took five bullets to the chest: instant kill. Second and third guy all got neck and head shots: once again, instant kill."

Announcer: Stepping up their game, Team Plissken goes head first into battle with their own weapon of choice.

Hershe holds up a machine gun fitted with a lengthy suppressor fitted with a scope for accuracy. "Say hello to the Ingram Mac-10." Hershe licks her lips seductively. "It's my favourite weapon."

Geoff has some experience with the Ingram. "I used one of those before. They're light as a feather."

"Yes," says Hershe, "and has a higher rate of fire than their gun." The transsexual criminal holds the weapon close to the camera for emphasis. "This is my personal model, I call him Paul. Paul fires .45 calibre bullets, is threaded for a suppressor without losing bullet velocity and comes with a clip for a portable stock."

Max nods but is yet to be sold to the idea of the weapon. "Great, let's see what 'Paul' can do."

The same test is set up for Hershe, except this time the dummies are dressed like Rambo, with tank tops and head bands. For a change, Armand gets to get the ball rolling. "3... 2... 1... FIRE!"

Like the hardened criminal she is, Hershe lets loose. The three moving dummies are sprayed with lead. She unloads the whole clip on the mock humans, peering down the suppressor scope.

Reloading, Hershe opens up on the splatter balls, hardly aiming at all. She's just counting on the sheer volume of bullets to take care of the job. It's how she handles bank robberies and the like.

The damage is devastating and the landscape is riddled with .45 calibre bullet holes but something is amiss. Three of the smaller splatter balls have survived unscathed. Sheriff Teasle laughs at the missed targets. "Nice job sweetie, looks like you'd better go back to beautician school." He's lucky that Hershe's gun is empty.

The high speed camera compares the footage of the two guns firing. "While both guns were deadly beyond measure, the M-16 takes the cake with accuracy," Armand concludes.

Max nods. "Yeah, those missed targets didn't look too good."

Geoff addresses his comrades. "So do we all agree?"

Edge: Rambo

Announcer: Coming up with long range weapons, Team Plissken dukes it out with a weapon that blazed during the cold war. The PKM Machine Gun

Brain is shown holding a large Russian machine gun up for the cameras to see. "This gun is a real beauty. Snake likes these Russian weapons because they're reliable and easy to find now that the Soviet Union has fallen."

Typical, Sheriff Teasle is scornful of this weapon. "Take that Russkie piece of crap back to whatever yard sale you found it at."

For the test, Brain is going to fire the machine gun into a series of moving dummies set up in an environment designed to simulate a heavily forested region similar to the one from the first Rambo movie. Mesh nets and plastic trees obscure Brain's vision, making the shot difficult but not impossible.

As everything is set up, Brain takes the trigger while Hershe has the job of feeding him the ammo belts. The word is given and Brain's finger squeezes the trigger. Immediately, a scorching hot stream of lead is thrown at the dummies. The first dummy tries to wheel out of the way but is decapitated by the 7.62 mm weapon. The head lands on the ground amidst a rain of fake blood and starts to roll away. The second dummy takes a whole load of bullets in the center of the chest. The third and final dummy is about to take a load of justice when the gun suddenly jams.

The team are clearly disappointed by this mechanical failure and even the stoic Trautman shakes his head. In a war, a misfiring gun can spell a man's death.

Quickly, thanks to Hershe's skilled hands, the weapon is able to give the third dummy the kiss of death.

After the embarrassing mechanical failure of the weapon used by Team Plissken, Team Rambo is supremely confident that their American M-60 will kick some butt. Colonel Trautman takes the job of gunner while Teasle takes it upon himself to load the weapon and leave the good colonel to his devices.

Colonel Trautman is set to shoot on a course that replicates the urban decay of the city of New York after it has been turned into one giant supermax prison. The shells of cars and rubble block the targets from a perfect shot. It's nothing that the Green Beret colonel can't handle.

The gun roars, its pattern is as distinct from the PKM as the roar of a lion is from the howl of a wolf. The first moving dummy takes a dozen or two bullets to the head. The second dummy begins to take a few bullets before the gun unexpectedly jams.

Trautman frantically tries to get the mechanism clear again. With a bit of effort, the bullets flow again, but as he kills the second dummy the gun jams again. Things are looking down for Team Rambo. Quickly he gets the gun firing and takes out the last target but the damage is done. While both guns had comparable accuracy, the two misfires on the part of the M-60 mean that this is one round that will not go into Rambo's hands.

Edge: Team Plissken

Announcer: Testing is entering its final leg. The odds are being formed fully and the stakes are getting higher. Between these two warriors, there is something to be considered: an X factor that can't be measured in a laboratory.

Geoff appears on the camera. "With Rambo, his X factor is that he's got nothing left to live for. He's the last man alive in his unit living in a society that hates him. A man with nothing to live for is the most dangerous man alive."

The screen then cuts to Max who explains what's the deal with Plissken. "With Snake, he's a man fighting for revenge. The government betrayed him so he's out to screw them up big time, to that end he deliberately destroyed valuable technical information that the president badly needed. He's got a lust for life. Like an animal, he'll do whatever it takes to survive and to get his vengeance. Unlike Rambo, he's got something to live for, just one thing."

This segment of the show begins with the testing of special weapons. Team Rambo goes first.

Colonel Trautman stands up, holding a knife that looks particularly vicious. A sharp blade sticks up from an iron handle with a spiked hand guard. The colonel elaborates. "This is the trench knife. This was first issued to soldiers in the first world war."

He motions for the camera to come closer. Soon, the camera man has got a close up of the blade. "Notice the triangular shape of the blade instead of wedge shape." Everyone can see this.

Armand explains the significance behind the shape of the blade. "Yeah, with a knife like that, the wound is a lot harder to stitch and bleeds a lot more than with a regular knife."

Trautman nods at the experienced ER and fight doctor. "These were outlawed by the Geneva convention in the nineteen twenties. They're still used in many theatres of war since the hilt can also double as knuckle dusters."

To demonstrate the power of this weapon, a dummy is set up with a pressure sensor on the side of its head. First the colonel will demonstrate the power of a simple human fist.

A martial arts practice dummy glares at the colonel. Suddenly, the old man's fist flies out and strikes him in the side of the head. Geoff takes down the numbers off of Max's computer display. Colonel's got a pretty good hit for a fellow his age.

Now comes the trench knife. The measuring pad has been reset and it's time to dance. The blow strikes with spiked brass. If this were human this guy would be having a very bad day.

Max calls out the numbers. "Congratulations Colonel, you've just shattered his skull with a single hit."

Team Plissken remains unmoved by what they see as a petty toy. Hershe hefts up a utilitarian looking knife. "Try this on for size, big boy."

Announcer: The ballistics knife, a weapon used by Special Forces in the former USSR. By pulling the pin on the handle, the blade of the knife is launched with lethal force.

For the purpose of testing, a skull has been set up on a platform and dolled up with sun glasses and a curly red wig.

As Hershe gets ready for the test, a problem emerges. Sheriff Teasle, being a fat an obnoxious man, decides to try and goad the transsexual thief. "So what do you look like under your panties? It must be a real mess down there after the surgery." He laughs loudly at his own joke. Even Colonel Trautman seems to approve for the emotional turmoil that it's putting Hershe under.

Brain is no help to Hershe. He's laughing loudly at the Sheriff's crude remark. He freezes up when he catches a murderous glare from his partner. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to laugh." He backs off because Hershe is still holding the ballistics knife and he doesn't like where she's pointing it.

Unexpectedly, Hershe puts down the knife and starts to walk off camera.

Ever the political correct one, Armand shares his experiences with treating transsexual patients. "I've treated some people like Hershe in the emergency room. They actually looked pretty good naked." The camera man gives Armand a funny look from behind the set. Armand frowns at the camera man. "What are you looking at?" Suddenly there is a commotion going on.

While we were interviewing Armand, Hershe took the time to grab her cigarette lighter. Evidently she used her playboy cigarette lighter to set Sheriff Teasle's cheap toupee. The bloated police officer is batting away at his flaming head as melted plastic runs down one side of his face. Hershe grins away as she puffs on a smoke.

Colonel Trautman doesn't lift a finger to help the coarse law enforcement official and just watches the show.

Teasle bellows and runs in circles like a bull in a china shop. As he runs back and forth, he knocks over weapons racks and testing equipment. Geoff starts yelling for Teasle to stop but his cries fall on deaf ears. The sheriff continues to smash up the fight club. Geoff runs for a fire extinguisher.

Geoff starts to fire extinguishing chemicals on Teasle, but the sheriff just runs away from the freezing chemical spray and runs faster. Directly, he flees from Geoff and the show's biomedical expert gives chase.

Max is collating data when Teasle runs into his desk and knocks over the computer monitor. Max screams in horror as his computer sparks and shuts down for good. "My computer! Screw you, Teasle!"

The sheriff is still running around when Max throws a white cloth over his head. He would have taken off the burning toupee but by now it's melted to his scalp.

Covered by the cloth, Max starts to hit Teasle in the head with a mop handle. Over and over again he smokes the sheriff over the head with the mop left out by the janitor.

The camera cuts to commercial break. Hopefully the money brought in through advertising will offset the losses incurred by Sheriff Teasle's lawsuit.

The commercials are over and now the sheriff is being hauled away on a stretcher by two paramedics.

The guys are back to their stations, behind the panel of testing equipment that will measure the effect of Hershe's ballistics knife.

Geoff readies the stop watch. "In 3... 2... hey, did you already shoot that knife!"

The knife blade is already sticking in-between the eyes of the skull. Hershe smirks while Brain provides the answer. "Yeah, she fired while we were on commercial break."

Announcer: But never fear, because we'll still present a working ballistics knife test for the viewer's pleasure.

A pig carcass has been set up. The pig is placed upright while being tied up by its limbs. Brain now stands about twenty feet from the pig, knife at the ready. At his belt are two other ballistics knives, ready to demonstrate the blade's power in a user's hand.

Geoff says the magic words. "Ready in 3... 2... 1... SLICE AND DICE!"

Brain takes the knife and with his thumb, pulls out the pin on the handle. Silently, the knife blade shoots forward like an arrow and firmly embeds itself in the flank of the dead hog. Not waiting to see the blood flow, Brain takes a second knife and fires another knife blade. This one pegs the pig right in the head. The pig offers no resistance.

Charging forward with his last knife, Brain is hardly a frightening figure, but he looks like he knows what he's doing. His coat flies out as he takes the knife and jams it the diaphragm of the pig. Yanking out the blade, he slices open the side of the neck, opening what would be the carotid and jugular arteries.

Deciding that the pig has enough, Brain slices across the belly but struggles to disembowel the animal.

Blood is all over the floor and Brain's white coat is a macabre mess of red and white. Colonel Trautman is characteristically unimpressed. "That knife could barely cut through the belly of that pig. How can it be of any use to you?"

Brain shrugs and wipes blood on his pants. "I don't know; the little fact that it's a range weapon helps. All you've got is a melee weapon. Our guys pull out their knives and Snake pulls the pin; there, dead."

The experts start to analyze the data. Max reads the numbers off of the speed measuring machine. "It looks like the blade did fifty two feet per second. Fast enough for me."

Armand points out the wounds. "The first blade went right through the heart. The second blade actually went through the pig's jaw, which is far thicker than the human jaw. While it's impressive that the blade has such penetrating power, it's not a kill shot. The pig's brain is still intact." He points to the slash across the belly. "This would be painful but this isn't a kill. The intestines are still intact and a hardened soldier like Rambo or Plissken could easily stitch this up themselves."

Announcer: With testing complete, it's time for these two action hero heavyweights to dance with the devil!

Hershe appears before the camera. "Snake is going to take this match. He's too strong to let anybody beat him and he's too ruthless to let anyone threaten his survival."

Trautman appears next. "I trained Rambo myself. He's like a son to me and I know him better than he knows himself. I prepared him for any battlefield circumstance."

Brain stands next to a box of donuts and he's helping himself. He swallows a bite of Boston cream and says, "I've said what I wanted to. What else do you want?"

Sheriff Teasle is shown from his bed in the hospital. They still haven't removed the melted toupee from his face. He just swears and curses incoherently. Well, at least he won't be able to complain that he didn't get a chance to speak with the rest of them.

Announcer: Coming up, the fight of action heroes will begin, created by twenty first century science and knowhow. Let the fight begin.

Simulation:

The setting is a city, dilapidated, ruined and otherwise blasted to rubble. Skyscrapers stand like men who don't realize that they're dead already. Everything looks rusted or ruined, in this whole city; there isn't a thing that isn't whole or unbroken.

In this city, which was once called Toronto, nothing is moving. There is no wind and the river cutting through the concrete jungle only inches forward and never rushes as it should.

In the entire city, under the cover of night, there is something alive. A man moves along the rubble, his mouth and nose protected by a transparent gas mask that won't inhibit his speech. He has only one eye, but that eye is sharp as a scalpel and he moves as one with the mist. You could almost imagine that if you shot him the bullets would merely pass through his ethereal flesh.

S.D. "Snake" Plissken is on a mission. Much like his last mission, he's not on this one voluntarily. Good old Uncle Sam needs a hostage rescued and nobody else has the stones or the nimble brain to take care of the job. It's a long story but unless Plissken takes back a certain hostage within twenty four hours, they'll kill a certain woman who is very dear to him and who he realizes that he can't live without.

At least they were kind enough no to threaten his life this time with some cockamamie implanted killing device or other.

Plissken checks out the locator device on his wrist. The target is not far off. It's more critical than ever to be stealthy, especially considering who's doing the hostage taking.

Snake stops before what was once a restaurant and puts his ear to the ground. Nothing; he hears absolutely nothing. There is nobody approaching on foot, no vehicles. There isn't even the telltale sound of rats here. The very vermin have quit this city.

The hostage is being held by none other than John Rambo, the only man in the world crazy enough to try and to hide in this place. What destroyed this city did it so thoroughly that not even a single weed has survived.

What destroyed this city is still here in residual amounts that wax and wane like the lunar cycle. Snake needs to leave this city before the twenty four hour mark or else he'll fall prey to what turned a six million metropolis into a graveyard.

In his base camp, John Rambo is taciturn. For months he's been a man on the run, living in conditions that would have made the deplorable conditions of the Viet Cong seem like the Four Seasons.

He camps out at the base of the CN tower, now half destroyed. Pinned to the wall is Rambo's prisoner, who just so happens to be the famous Deadpool, the Merc with the mouth.

Deadpool really isn't having a whole lot of fun. He usually doesn't have fun when he's captured by a deranged psycho and held hostage for the information he's holding. Technically he's immortal, but when Rambo says that he's going to chop up Deadpool and burn every one of the pieces, the Merc with the mouth suddenly doesn't want to think about his odds of survival.

This zany mercenary has critical technical information that could mean world domination for the United States; unfortunately it will be obsolete in twenty-five hours. Hence Plissken's job.

As Snake makes his way through Toronto's desolate streets, he hits the first of Rambo's booby traps. Plissken freezes as he spots a trip wire only millimetres away from his foot. The man's eye widens and his steady pulse quickens.

Ideally, Snake would just step back gently and take to the abandoned rooftops for cover but fate is not so kind. Rambo's dug up part of the sidewalk so that it pivots like a little seesaw. The seesaw section of crumbling concrete tilts forward and Plissken's foot hits the wire.

With less than seconds to act, Plissken throws himself acrobatically backwards as the claymore mine blows its load across the street.

Plissken peeks from behind a building. He has some burn marks on his arm and his bulletproof coat is ruined but he shouldn't need it. Cradling his Ingram's machine gun, he adjusts the gun's rate of fire to where he wants it to be and flicks off the safety catch.

Back at camp, Rambo gets up from his threadbare chair and grabs his M-16 rifle and some ammo. On the wall, Deadpool decides to showcase his lack of an ability to keep quiet. "Hey, uh, Rambo; I don't mean to bitch but technically aren't you supposed to be one of the good guys?'

Rambo's head snaps towards Deadpool's direction as he finished loading himself with weapons. He makes no reply to the madman's question.

"I'm just saying that it kind of sucks here, pinned to the wall like—GAH!" Deadpool was cut off as Rambo ripped his throat out and left. Unlike other enemies, Rambo had a habit of ripping out Deadpool's vocal cords to shut him up, rather than put up with his insane drivel. Admittedly, being silent was the worst torture that Deadpool had ever endured.

Meanwhile, Snake Plissken stalks through the back alleys, attempting to avoid spots that are good for booby traps and ambushes. He's getting very close to the foot of the tower, right into the lion's den.

Plissken's instincts are on full throttle. He's been flipped into "on" position and the off switch is broken. It is then that Plissken has a premonition of sorts.

He flies behind cover just as the bullets begin to fly. The decaying concrete is ripped to shreds by automatic fire from an M-16 assault rifle.

Snake presses himself to the wall, taking care to avoid flying concrete shrapnel and bullets. It's a familiar weapon to Snake and he knows very well the ammo count; unless this guy has got extended clips.

After what seems like less than a second, the gunfire stops. Snake rapidly peers around the corner with his gun practically itching to be let loose on this guy.

There! On the third story of an old apartment complex, Plissken can just barely make out a figure in the moonlight. Not wanting to give his enemy a chance to reload, Snake opens up with his submachine gun.

The bullets he lets loose are much quieter than those of Rambo but they're no less deadly. Up in the third story, Rambo is nearly decapitated by a spray of bullets that go through the crumbling stucco facade.

Reloading his gun, Rambo blind fires out of the window using the sound of his enemies' silenced gun. It is an impossible feat for a normal man but Rambo hasn't been an ordinary man for a very long time.

Snake pauses to reconsider his strategy. He can throw like a major league baseball pitcher. Lugging a concussion grenade into the building shouldn't be a problem. Resting his thumb inside the pin, he waits for the enemy to make his move and hopefully use up his ammo. The tarry surface of the bomb feels comforting to his skin.

Rambo begins to fire with his M-16 again, the bullets rapidly whittling away at Snake's cover. Rather than use up his ammo, John Rambo pauses and waits for his enemy to make a move.

The smell of cordite is in the air; surprisingly it's the only discernable scent in this damn city. No reply comes from Rambo's adversary. The old warrior's instincts are triggered. At the instinctive level, Rambo knows that this is far from over. He's not enough of an optimist to think that the other man is dead.

Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, Rambo can see something fly through the night. His skill is enough that he could shoot it out of the air with both eyes shut but shooting a hand grenade is never a good idea, particularly when you are in its killing range. Plissken has changed position right under Rambo's nose.

Rambo makes a strategic retreat. As the grenade smashes through the window next to the one he fired from, he jumps over the guard rail and plunges three stories down the stairwell.

For a moment, Rambo is in freefall. Then he hits the steps. His training allows his body to contort in a way to minimize the damage, but damaging pain still fires up his left leg. Damn it all to hell!

Upstairs, the grenade blows, utterly devastating everything on that floor. The bomb is near enough that it has Rambo's ears ringing.

Despite the ringing, Rambo's eyes work just fine. When he sees bullet holes form in the wall with him as the intended target, he throws himself to the ground.

Snake fires a spray of lead across where a man would be if he managed to survive a concussion bomb like that. He knows that his enemy is too good to be killed just like that, so he's not taking any chances; his luck isn't that good.

Rambo fires the next strike. He's discarded his assault rifle and he's going for something a little bigger this time.

As Snake moves in with his submachine gun, he is startled as an entire wall comes down. It's not hard with the building's state of disrepair. A cloud of mouldy drywall flies up and blocks Plissken's vision. Emptying the clip first into the cloud, Snake dives to cover to reload.

Before he can dive, Rambo comes out of the dust like the terminator from the flames. In his hands is an M-60 machine gun, a veritable hungry-man of a gun if there ever was one.

Showing no mercy, Rambo lets loose a storm of all American craftsmanship. Plissken rolls to the side and doesn't stop fleeing. With an empty gun and no bulletproof armour, the local cover won't protect him for more than a few seconds.

Plissken drops the Ingram's. From his back he draws a PKM machine gun, collector's edition. Rather than turn to face Rambo, he's going to try and run directly to his enemy's camp so that he can get the hostage and get out of here.

Firing a few more bursts, Rambo makes chase after Snake. Though he's been prematurely aged by his profession, Rambo is able to physically keep up with his younger enemy.

Stopping to take aim, Rambo has Plissken dead in his sights. All of one bullet should be enough to end it.

Click.

Rambo's gun has misfired and he loses precious seconds getting it unjammed.

Plissken's more reliable weapon then answers. Rambo throws himself down a crack in the sewers to avoid being slain.

Seeing that his enemy has vanished, Plissken realizes that Rambo has the home turf advantage and decides to get back on track. In no time at all, he's found his way to the hostage, guided by his trusty locator device.

There pinned to a wall he finds Deadpool, as annoying as ever. "Snake Plissken! I heard you caught AIDS and died. Then I heard that they threw your body in a tank of hydrofluoric acid."

Snake growls humourlessly. "Everybody keeps telling me something to that effect." Without regard to the regenerating Merc's comfort, he starts to pry out the metal spikes in Deadpool's right arm.

Deadpool groans in pain as his right arm is freed. "Okay Snake, now get the rest."

To Deadpool's displeasure, Plissken ignored him and took point. This did not tickle the mercenary's fancy. "Uh, dude, kinda stuck here."

"Free yourself," was the crude reply.

"What the fuck! For a guy who inspired the Metal Gear series you're a douche bag!"

"You're just mad because you were infected in marble zombies."

Deadpool's eyes widened. "Hey, did you just break the fourth wall? I'm supposed to do that, nobody else!"

Plissken tries to ignore Deadpool's ranting. He was worried before about Rambo sneaking up on him, now he can bet for sure that Rambo is heading this way. Only the dead and the deaf would have failed to miss Deadpool's fool mouth flying off.

When Deadpool starts complaining again, this time about a lousy author using him as a hostage, Snake shoots him in the throat.

Deadpool spits up blood as the bullet nearly blows his head off. "Bastard," he mouths.

Rambo enters his lair from a hidden entrance in the sewers. He's been living in this city for a while now and he's gotten to know a surprisingly large amount of it. He waves his M-60 to and fro.

He can hear a gurgling, it sounds like Deadpool. By now the madman's throat should be healed, unless somebody else showed up and gave him another injury.

From around the corner rolls a MK3A2 grenade. The pin on the device has been pulled. With the skill of a pro soccer player, Rambo kicks the bomb back where it came. The explosion rips through a wall and crushes Deadpool in concrete rubble.

Under the rubble, Deadpool grumbles, "Fuck my life."

Dazed, Rambo gets up and spins his gun in a wide arc. The guy who threw it must certainly be dead. Wait!

A second grenade was rolling towards Rambo. Again, he kicked it, farther this time. The concussive blast went off and destroyed more of the building. If this kept up the entire tower was going to fall on their heads. Rambo had to find his enemy.

He runs towards the room where he'd kept Deadpool captive. Everything is nearly destroyed.

Suddenly, Plissken swings down from the ceiling and kicks Rambo in the chest. The former Green Beret goes flying backwards and fires his gun haphazardly.

Snake brings his gun to bear on Rambo. Instinctively, the PKM is kicked out of Snake's hands by Rambo.

Rambo too tries to fire with his machine gun but Snake is on him before he can get a shot off. Powerfully, Plissken throws a punch into Rambo's face, followed up by another one.

A knee to the stomach knocks Plissken off his enemy, doubled over with pain.

Picking himself up, Rambo reaches into his belt and grabs the trench knife. He lunges for Snake but steel is blocked by Steel.

With eyes full of fury, Plissken holds back Rambo's blade with the ballistics knife; both men strain against the other, their mighty arms flexing.

Suddenly, they throw one another back and they snap up, ready to go at it again. They circle one another slowly. Like two chess masters, they visualize all possible moves before they make it.

In the background, Deadpool has gotten up. Instead of doing anything useful, like help one of the fighters, he's decided to strap one of his swords to his crotch and thrust his hips obscenely and singing about pirates.

Rambo and Plissken lunge at each other. Two men who should not be enemies are fighting to the death. It's not a question of right; it's a question of might.

Then as their blades lock again, something comes over the two men. What destroyed this city was something horrible and it strikes it cyclically. Now it seems that this awful weapon will strike Plissken and Rambo a little early.

Pupils dilate, blood vessels constrict and either man is caught in the grip of unspeakable terror. It's an awful knife twist in the gut that makes grown men want to run screaming in the night.

It's not the kind of fear that makes you run. This kind of fear makes you defend yourself at the expense of everything else. This fear turned the city of Toronto into a charnel house.

Snake and Rambo both give into the fear. They attack with their knives, but this time their motions are frenzied and lacking their earlier grace.

Rambo's eyes are wide, like those of a spooked horse. Plissken can see things. He sees a horde of venomous pekkantulas. Whatever those are.

Suddenly the two warriors wrapped in fear's tentacles collide like forces of nature. Not letting go of their blades, each man grabs the throat of the other.

Rambo and Snake look each other in the face and neither man has a single rational thought in his head. Like madmen, they foam at the mouth and shout gibberish; merely shadows of their usual selves.

The knife blades get closer to their targets. Each man is closer to mutual destruction. For longer than could be expected, Rambo survived the aftermath of the weapon but now he's been caught in the open.

As suddenly as it happened, the fear lets go. Both of the men feel their fear vanish and their higher minds return to them. They are now once again human.

Since they are soldiers, they haven't stopped trying to kill each other. Plissken, as he always does, has a little trick up his sleeve.

With his thumb he yanks out the pin on the ballistics knife. The blade shoots out and goes right through Rambo's skull. Snake is the winner.

SNAKE WINS!

Stats:

Plissken: 569 kills

Ballistics Knife: 9 kills

MK3A2 Concussion Grenade: 150 kills

PKM Machine Gun: 170 kills

Ingrams MC-10 : 240 kills

Rambo: 431 kills

Trench knife: 8 kills

Claymore Mine: 163 kills

M-60 Machine Gun: 96 kills

M-16 Assault Rifle: 164 kills

Brain gloats before the camera. "So, Plissken won. My bookie owes me two thousand." He should spend it on dry cleaning for his white overcoat that isn't so white anymore.

Colonel Trautman is disappointed but takes the results with dignity. "I'm still not convinced that Plissken is the better soldier, but all the same, congratulations." He snaps a salute to the hosts of the show.

Hershe smiles her pearly whites. "The better man has won. Snake couldn't have pulled half the shit he did if he wasn't."

Max enters to explain the cause of Snake's victory. "Snake and Rambo both had very powerful weapons. The difference lay in that Plissken's weapons were more reliable and less prone to mechanical failure."

Armand goes next. "Rambo had deadly weapons but for the most part, Plissken had deadlier weapons. No matter what, I still wouldn't want to get into a fight with Rambo."

Geoff gets the final word. "Both of these guys are badasses but the proof is in the pudding. Snake Plissken is the deadliest warrior."