doom x splatoon for bibby team boards

	Hell may have failed in its conquest of Earth, but humanity was finishing the job of its ultimate destruction.
	Not long ago, Earth had almost fallen to an onslaught from Hell's worst. Millions died and major cities burned, but the invasion was foiled by one man under the payroll of a multinational conglomerate known as the United Aerospace Corporation. Though rebuilding was underway, the UAC's plan to shut the gates of Hell forever had unforeseen consequences on the ecosystem of the planet, ones that would surely lead to mankind's eradication before a hundred years had passed. Well, according to the company line, they were the result of their valiant attempts to close the gateway between Hell and our own dimension. The truth is more complicated than that, of course; the climate change of the earth had been accelerated by... shall we say, mishaps which resulted from their attempts to create teleportation technology, even before the attack by Hell. Though the UAC were successful in creating working teleporters, the testing had caused a preternatural change in the environment of the Earth. Global warming hadn't seen anything yet. It was almost as if Hell was beginning to merge with our own universe.
	Of course, many in the scientific community recognized the dangers in UAC's teleportation technology, though no one could have quite predicted the way events had transpired. Most of the research speaking against the teleportation project cited things like environmental concerns, particularly how much energy would be required to operate such a device. Human rights organizations also spoke out against the methods used to test the technology, particularly how the "volunteers" for the project were coerced into service. Generally, the experiments were manned by convicts and other undesirables. Sometimes, however, these experiments were manned by what the UAC termed "political prisoners", which was just their way of referring to those thorns in their side that made too much noise. Another dirty little secret of the testing the homicidal insanity the subjects experienced afterward, with many of those afflicted later dying as if something had been consuming their flesh from the inside. It's funny, though; when you have as much international influence as a megacorporation like the UAC, dissenting voices have a way of vanishing, no matter how many there are. Politicians, demons on Earth that they are, tend to follow the money rather than the truth, particularly when the sums are as large as what flowed from the UAC's coffers.
	Oh, and that man I mentioned who defeated the forces of Hell by himself? The UAC had offered him a deal he couldn't refuse: either accept their offer of an all-expenses paid vacation of indeterminate length, or be detained on a prison colony on Mars. B.J. Blazkowicz III might have been skilled enough to defeat the army of Satan, but even he couldn't stand up to the might of an entity like UAC and hope to triumph. Needless to say, he took the offer; if he was going to be imprisoned, he figured, he would prefer it to be somewhere comfortable. Besides, he thought, he'd already been on Mars once, and it had sucked dirty demon ass.
	B.J. sat on the couch in the living room of a small condo located on the coast of a tropical getaway far, far away from the forces of hell. He was on the upper floor of a four-story condominium complex, and so had a great view of the natural beauty of his involuntary vacation spot from a glass sliding door on the wall. The light of the afternoon sun coruscated on the waves of the ocean, which lapped on the white sand of the beach. A bit further back, palm trees waved in the gentle sea breeze. All that connected him to the outside world was a direct-line communicator which linked him with his beneficiaries at UAC. Never once had the communicator gone off in the half year he had been there, which meant he was far removed from the chain-of-command bullshit that he had been crushed under before. All this time he had to himself gave him plenty of time to think.
	As if he really needed an opportunity to let his mind gravitate towards the horrors he'd witnessed during his service in the Space Marine Corps. Operation DOOM, they called it. Teleportation experiments by the UAC had resulted in a connection between our own universe and Hell, who gladly took the opportunity to indulge in some big game hunting in the form of wanton slaughter of humanity. B.J. was one of the first people there when Hell attacked that base on Phobos. He had to be; serving alongside the UAC on Mars was part of his punishment for the stand he took against that corrupt officer who had ordered him to kill unarmed civilians. For all of B.J.'s issues, he was an upstanding man, and he had joined the corps to protect those people, not to oppress them. Still, breaking protocol for doing the right thing was breaking protocol nonetheless, and so B.J. got shipped out
	Indeed, he had protected people the best he could, even to his own detriment. The trauma of what he had seen was beyond the worst things he could have imagined. The sudden radio silence of the assault teams that had been sent into the base on Phobos, the bodies of his fellow soldiers and friends lying eviscerated on the clean metal floors of the base, the bloodlust shining in the eyes of Hell's warriors as they set fire to Earth's cities and tore through their populations with fetid claws. It was as if his mind wanted to torture him by shoving the memories up into his face, given how omnipresent the flashbacks were.
	Still, it wasn't as if spending time in a place like this was constant misery. The UAC, bunch of fucking idiots they were, did put their money where their mouth was and got him the place they'd promised. After the shit B.J. had seen and all he had done to repel the otherworldly invaders, it was the least they could do to placate him, even if it was done with a gun against his head. It was sunny most of the time here, even if the steps his contractors had taken to shut the gates to Hell had caused the climate of the Earth to shift more than years of greenhouse gases could. The room gave him front-row seats to watch the ever-blue ocean rise, encroaching on the coastline bit by bit. Some days it seemed as if the water was moving slower than others, but B.J. wasn't sure if this was his mind struggling to cope with the final doom that was approaching humanity.
	He wasn't quite living in solitary confinement, either. An important casualty, at least as far as B.J. cared, was his pet bunny Daisy. He had had that rabbit since he was a teenager, and he had returned to Earth to discover her severed head skewered on a stick in front of his burning hometown. It was as if these demon motherfuckers were asking him to kick their asses into the next dimension, igniting a rage that sustained him as he fought through hell on earth. He pushed the demonic armies back to Hell singlehandedly, even if he knew it'd never return Earth to the way it had been before. In the years since, though, he had gotten a new pet in the form of his cat, Judd. A big, tubby cat with markings on his fur that uncannily resembled a tuxedo, all Judd seemed to do was lay around, sleep, and eat. Still, it was comforting to have the cat snoozing away in his lap as he was now, completely unaware of all the hell his owner had gone through. Perhaps that was the way B.J. liked it, though. It was hard to be a functioning member of society when you were as much of a mental case as he was.
	Sometimes the memories and the loneliness grew to be too much, and B.J. needed some other method to cover up his sorrows. Another benefit of his prison in paradise was its location, not far from the nightlife. Just barely in his thirties and with nothing else to spend his income on but himself, B.J. headed down to the bars as often as he could to drink himself stupid. Even if he felt like an outcast, he appreciated the human contact. Making relationships with people was hard given what he had experienced, but with a few shots in him, he was able to function as he had before all of this shit had happened. Well, sometimes human contact wasn't quite the way to describe it, given the new sorts of people that had started to show up. The changes to the Earth's ecosystem were not limited to what had happened to the environment. Not long after the waters began to rise, what appeared to be normal squids began to crawl out onto the land. Well, they looked normal up until they turned into people, at least.
	It had made headlines when underground colonies of squid that approximated human cities had been discovered, so maybe it wasn't as if they appeared from nowhere. Given the state of Earth now, however, it baffled many as to why the hell they'd be coming up if they had  everything they needed down there. Shortly after they arrived on dry land, they transformed into humanoids and began to walk among humanity. Someone thought themselves witty and called them "Inklings", given their ability to produce colored ink, and it had stuck by some social process that B.J. couldn't explain. These Inklings, such as they were called, seemed very similar to humans. They looked like normal people, if it weren't for the tentacles they had in the place of human hair. They didn't speak human language at first, but many of them learned human language quickly and integrated themselves into society. Of course, not all humans welcomed them as brethren. The fact that they were different was enough reason for many to fear and loathe them, as if they didn't give a damn about the classical liberal ideals they extolled. B.J., being away from home for so long, had missed a great deal of the Inklings' colonization, as it were, of the Earth. He wasn't quite sure what to make of these people, but he had seen so much worse that he didn't give a damn that they were evolved squids or some other science fiction bullshit.
	Given the reception they had received from some, it was perhaps not surprising that B.J. found so many of these people at the bars he spent so much time in. Some were hostile towards him, as if they thought the way to repay humankind for their unkindness was to emulate their behavior towards them. Some, however, held no ill will towards humans. Some of them had known the horrors of war just as B.J. had, and they swapped stories with him to try to alleviate the pain. Through this, B.J. learned about the tenuous relationship between the Inklings and the octopi they shared the ocean with. The relationship of the Inklings and the Octarians, as the squids named them, was peaceful most of the time. It seemed to have more to do with who was in charge of the respective communities, rather than the opinions of the public. However, war between the two races was not unheard of by any means, and B.J. heard stories of bloody battles for territory that resounded far too much with his own experiences. Though they had come from the sea, these people had lost their friends, family, and homes to struggles for supremacy, and B.J. knew exactly how horrible that felt. If nothing else, B.J. learned by first-hand exposure that the Inklings that had come to live on land had more kinship with his race than many would admit.
	This first-hand exposure was by no means limited to his contact with old soldiers, however. B.J. might have spent his nights out at a number of different watering holes, but one bar kept pulling him back. It wasn't because their drinks were any better than the shit he pounded down to get his mind off of the whole thing. Top shelf or not, vodka tasted horrible and whiskey beat the hell out of his throat, no matter if it had been mixed with something to mask the taste. No, it was because a woman had caught his eye. She was a tall, slender young Inkling woman, perhaps a few years younger than he was, with tanned skin, plump lips, and light brown eyes. She smelled of the ocean and coconuts, perhaps accented by the scent of her favorite rum, and she wore dresses that emphasized her long legs and arms. B.J. was at first taken back by how attractive she was, given that she was a humanoid squid. Plus, even after the alcohol, courage in social situations wasn't exactly something B.J. had enough of after the trauma he'd accrued. It took him several times of visiting Coley's Cabana for him to work up the courage to talk to her, but when he did, he immediately found common ground with her.
	Over drinks one night, he found out her name was Callista Cuttlefish. Well, that was the human name she had chosen. As Inklings integrated further into human society, many of them had taken names that were easier for humans to pronounce, and that was what sounded good to her. "Cuttlefish" was about as close of a translation as she was going to be able to get to what her real name meant, anyway. Times had been hard for her, both before and after she had come into the human world. Before she came to the human world, she had been a well-known artist, living in an Inkling colony on the bottom of the ocean. Technology had taken great steps in the human world, and so it had been among the squids. Calamari City, as it had been called, was the Inkling center of culture, an underwater metropolis which integrated sea and dry land by whatever technology the great minds there had come up with. Frankly, she couldn't give a damn, so long as it meant she had a place to live and work. The most recent conflict with the Octarians, however, had devastated her home city. The Octarian onslaught, fueled by horrifying new weaponry, had razed the city and killed untold numbers. Not too dissimilar from what happened when the demons invaded B.J.'s own world, come to think of it.. Faced with the opportunity to return to her home or follow the Inkling exodus to dry land, she chose the latter. It certainly explained why the squids had come out of the water, B.J. mentioned. Life among humans had been similarly difficult, as even finding somewhere to stay and some means of supporting herself had been a huge struggle. Their experiences resonated with each other, and their attraction to each other grew quickly as they talked and explored their common ground. When the last call came that night, they both had one thing on their mind.
	It should go without saying that B.J. took Callista home that night and made love to her. Having been starved of a real connection with someone for so long, it felt great to hold her in his arms, to feel her heart beating next to his, to caress her. She felt just like any other woman he'd had carnal knowledge of, which was more than enough for him. Of course, it was a casual thing, so this wasn't the beginning of some lifelong love that would rectify all of their hurts. That said, neither of them had ruled out the possibility of moving further, and even after Callista had left, thoughts of her broke up B.J.'s deep depression. He wondered if he would find her again if he went back to Coley's. He wondered if she had become a regular since their meeting that one night, and if she had felt the same way about him that he had about her.
	In fact, he was just about to leave for a night out at Coley's when the communicator sprang to life with an urgent message. Blazkowicz was needed by the UAC again. When he answered, they flooded him with the details. Something about a demon with the ability to rebuild the entire population of Hell on its own. The Mother Demon, they were calling it. Not that it made much of a difference to him. He knew what they were asking for, since he had provided his brand of merciless extermination to them many times in the past. B.J. knew he had no volition in this matter as the nameless voice on the other end told him the specifics of his mission. He was to be taken to the base on the planet Tei Tenga where this demonic entity had been located with the purpose of neutralizing it. Whether this was because the UAC was trying to cover another of its fuckups or whether it was because this thing actually posed a threat to the universe was irrelevant.
	B.J. knew that the possibility of his death on this mission was very real. Even if he did succeed in killing UAC's new monster of the week, he wasn't convinced that it'd do a damn thing to stop the demons from pouring through every portal they could find to the universe. He certainly knew the UAC didn't give a shit, so long as their bottom line was safe. Fuck, maybe it'd just be better if I stayed there in Hell to keep these assholes from having their way with our world, B.J. thought to himself. There was nothing keeping him attached to this world, anyway. Given how his earthly life was going, Hell couldn't be that much worse. He didn't want to leave Judd behind, and he sure as hell didn't want to leave his curiosity about Callista unfulfilled, but he had an idea about what he could do in Judd's case. He'd have to let the girl go, but halfway there wasn't too bad of an outcome.
	"I accept the mission, but I have one request before I go." B.J. said.
	"Yes, what is it?" came the voice from the other line.
	"My understanding is that UAC is in possession of cryogenic capsules. I'd like to make a request regarding them."
	"Blazkowicz, you know I wouldn't be the one to talk to about those things."
	"Well, when I get to wherever I need to go, I'd like to talk to someone about those things. What I'm going to ask is a small price for saving the universe."
	"... Very well, Blazkowicz." said the operator. "Be ready for extraction at the designated time."
	"Copy. Blazkowicz out." After the line went dead, B.J. found his cat sleeping on the couch, soaking up the midday sun. He found Judd's kennel and tapped him on the head to wake him up.
	"Come on, Judd. Daddy's going on a business trip, and I'm taking you somewhere they can watch over you." It was almost as if Judd could sense the finality in the words B.J. was saying, and he went into the pet carrier without any hesitation.
	B.J. would win the war against the demons once again, but he would never return to Earth. Whether he would die fighting the armies of Hell or remain in Hell by volition, he would sacrifice his life here to ensure the diabolical menace would never return.