It’s Finals Day, and everyone is excited and eager!!!! No more delays, time for Dr Jones and James Bond to get it on.Two men enter, one man leaves.
This is what it’s all come down to. A long road, a number of crazy battles, split decisions, twists and turns. But we’re here. The Final. Bond vs Indy. My youth in conflict with itself. Indy holds a special place for me. Raiders came out when I was in grade school, I think it was grade 4 or 5. My parents went to see it, but I wasn’t allowed. Too graphic, etc. I had the Raiders trading cards, and was crazy about the movie. Finally I saw it and loved it to pieces. James Bond also was a big part of my childhood. I saw every movie in the theatre, I think starting with View To a Kill. Kept the streak alive until the last few Brosnan films. On a pure emotional level, Indy wins in a heartbeat. Bond is cold and calculating, while Indy is personable and flawed. It’s hard to get emotionally invested in Bond, to really care about him. Indy, the exact opposite.
But this isn’t about childhood, or emotion. This is the SMACKDOWN!!!!
Indy and Bond enter the ring. Indy looks at Bond, heaves a great sigh. He’s tired, and not looking forward to this. Bond squints a steely squint, and charges the platform. He parkours up the side, and grabs his Walther P99. He turns and prepares to fire. But Indy isn’t there anymore. Bond looks around, and can’t see him. He realizes, a second too late, that Indy is below him. Indy grabs a foot and pulls, causing Bond to slip, and fall from the platform, dropping the gun.
The two men toe the line, and begin circling. Bond attacks quickly, using 3 different styles of martial arts. Indy is hit by all three. His nose begins to bleed, and he staggers back. During the next ten minutes, Indy manages to land a few blows, but takes the lion’s share of the beating. As Bond is closing in for the win, Indy looks behind him for a swinging plane propeller, or a supernatural act. But they just don’t come. Indy’s opponents make mistakes, usually big ones. That’s not Bond. Indy looks at Bond, does that cocking his head to the side thing, and then, Lights Out.
So, I’d like to remind you at this juncture (Time?, I’d like to remind you at this time?) that you all bitched, and moaned, and called me a mollycoddled sack licker because you anticipated that this would be a Han Solo/ Indiana Jones final round.
“RobbieRobTown, you are such a dickless scroatgobbler that you live inside the sweaty anus of another fanboy and eat his poopscraps of wannabe-ism like some kind of tapeworm nerd.” You said, complexly.
WEEEEELLLLLL, poop on you, Sir or Madam (but probably Sir)! It’s an Indy/ Bond finale, and that’s that.
Urrrrrrrrghhh. I am going to call this one early. I am, ugggggggh, I am, errrrrrrgggghhh, uh, I am giving this one to James Bond.
I love Indy. I love Indy so much that to this day I have never seen “Crystal Skull”. Not one second of it. Not so much as a clip, or even a trailer. I heard that Shia LeBeouf was going to be in the film and I immediately considered the whole affair to be like an apocryphal text, removed from the bible and left in a cave somewhere for a History Channel show to discover and base a series on.
I love James Bond too. I have even read some of the original Ian Fleming novels. They are atrociously pulpy, by the way, but once you accept their pulpiness, they become kind of awesome. Lovecraft is the same…
My contention since early on in this event is that Indy is better written than most of his opponents. He has a more nuanced character (I said “more”, not “completely” or “realistically” nuanced), and his biggest weakness is his charming vulnerability.
Bond was written to be human as well, originally, but in his many incarnations he has gone from several extremes- From superhuman (Did anyone see “Goldeneye”?) to heartbroken (LAZENBY!!!). Daniel Craig is a tad more vulnerable than some Bonds, without being Lazenbian. I had a girlfriend once who turned out to be a Lazenbian. True story.
So, both of these guys are going to make a few mistakes, end up with some nasty looking bruises, and look a bit worse for wear as this fight goes on. I am giving this one top Bond because he is a trained spy, and Indy is a trained academic.
Let the rain of hate fall on my shattered man-parts!
Loser: Shia “The Beef” LaBeouf
Cub Reporter Keith
Henry Jones Junior versus Mr. Sterling from Universal Exports. Battle to the finish. May the best man win and the lesser man rest in peace.
Jones and Bond stand in the arena, surrounded by the skulls of the fallen. So many heroes have perished in this clash. Bourne, The Bride, Mal. The warriors of two very different ages take a moment to remember all that has come before.
Bond has survived the two Correctness writers who had promised to fix this battle to end with Han Solo and Indy. That is the sort of man 007 is. He beats the odds, gets the girl and then drinks a watered down vodka martini.
Indy has been beaten down and keeps coming back. He is a man out of time and almost as much of an antique as the artifacts he has sought all his life.
On the pedestal are two of the simplest but most iconic weapons in this Smackdown. A leather whip and a Walther PPK.
Bond takes in his opponent. This dusty academic in brown would not make it this far without being both lethal and lucky. But Bond has never believed in luck.
Indy could use a good whiskey and a long vacation somewhere free of both snakes and Nazis (as if the two are different things). One man stands in his way. A man so charming Indy wouldn’t want him in a room alone with Marion. A man so dark that light seems to fall into his eyes, never to escape.
It is time. Indy takes the lead and makes a running dive at Bond. Bond is faster, always faster. Indy has not even seen the big man move before he finds himself sailing past, a side kick catching him in his ribs.
Indy crashes to the ground, rolling in the dust. Bond approaches, trying to finish this honourably. Bond takes no joy in the pain of others, but he does his job. And that job is to eliminate this American grave robber.
Indy throws a handful of dust from the arena floor into Bond’s eyes and uses the distraction to start a flurry of blows to Bond’s sides. Bond tries to ignore the burning sensation of the dust and block the attack of his invisible opponent. Indy stops to take a breath.
“It doesn’t have to end this way, you limey bastard!”
And in that moment, he has lost. Still blinded, Bond strikes out with a blow to Indy’s throat, partially collapsing the elder man’s trachea. Indy stumbles back, stunned and struggling to get his breath through the damage. Bond takes out a handkerchief and wipes the dust from his eyes as Jones falls backward, still clutching his throat.
Bond never takes his eyes off Jones as he retrieves his PPK from the pedestal. He returns with both weapons and tosses the whip toward Jones.
“What I do now I do for Queen and Country. Don’t think for a moment that I enjoy it. Goodbye, Doctor Jones.”
Jones looks up, his eyes steeled. So this is how it ends. It isn’t so bad, if you can keep the fear from your mind.
A single shot. The Smackdown ends.
Winner: Bond. You don’t get to 23 films by hiding in refrigerators.
You can put it in the win column. Bond takes the prize.
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