King of the Hill!

[The Nonexistent Tazz]

You fail to move at the speed of Plaid as I have not actually done anything. And that was a reference to how bad it would be-Are Emolga naturally immune to eye lasers? No? I thought so. This makes your maneuver of pulling out an entire train pretty easy to dodge, and I naturally decide to counter with a Cruise Liner. We proceed to have a vehicle duel for a solid minute until an errant Cruiseslash brings you back down to earth with teratons of force, blowing you through most of the planet and into Dimension 953, the Dimension of weirdness, and your speed forcibly ejects you into the sacred Palace of the Walnut Oversoul, right in front of said Walnut Oversoul. The Walnut Oversoul's greatest enemies are as follows: The Lemon Archfiend, Emolgakind, and Fartacus the Many-times-Befowled. The other two don't like Emolga either, so you find yourself out of luck as the Walnut Oversoul proceeds to unleash one of his greater attacks: He calls upon all Walnutkind, who respond immediately, and quickly use a Unite Morph to become a huge, spiked whip. You attempt to flee, but find yourself stuck to the floor by more Walnuts, and promptly get smacked by the whip, smashing you with absurd levels of force. This continues indefinitely,t he Walnut Oversoul giving you conditional immortlaity at the cost of severe pain with each whip, the condition being you get whipped again in the next few minutes.

I just kind of wonder where you've gone after that, shove the Chateau off the hill, and reclaim the hill.

MY HILL!!!

[Neo Emolga]

Realizing I am almost entirely out of options against the Walnutkind, I resort to having to do the unspeakable. I summon Nutcracker Army, and upon seeing the Walnutkind, I have just introduced them to their ultimate sworn nemesis, a threat they would soon learn to loathe even more than Emolgakind. In the ensuring wanton violence, the Walnutkind do vicious battle with the Nutcrackers, but ultimately the toothy, bearded, and stiff-looking soldiers prevail with their sole purpose of festive holiday tree nut destruction. The Walnut Oversoul attempts to bargain as the last of his Walnutkind are violently crushed and broken in the relentless walnut massacre, but alas, it is too late for him and the rest of his kind as not even the women and children Walnutkind are spared. Like a horde of wooden zombies, the Nutcracker Army crushes him to pieces in their wooden mouths, and the remains of the Walnutkind are used as sundae toppings. Merry Christmas.

I Phazon-Warp out of Dimension 953, only to catch you in the blasphemous act of shoving my Chateau off the hill. First the giant Emolga statue, and now this. I shake my head in disbelief. This is simply unacceptable.

Only mere seconds after you've removed my precious real estate from the premises, you notice I've turned you into a hockey puck. And to make matters even worse, I cast a magic spell called Canadians! to torment you. A swarm of hockey players swarms in and immediately start whacking you with hockey sticks back and forward for hours and hours while I happily restore Chateau Neo Emolga to its proper place, nestled safely and elegantly back on the hill.

One hockey player whacks you so hard that you break the Reality Space-Time Dimensional Layer and end up in the Cretaceous age, where a Tyrannosaurus finds you and uses you as a chew toy. He has no idea what you really are or where you came from, but you provide many hours of chewy entertainment for him. He calls you "Chewie Fun Thingy" and you make him very happy.

With you out of the way, I whistle a happy tune as I kick in my lounge chair in my Chateau Neo Emolga and turn on some Netflix.

MY HILL!!!

[The Nonexistent Tazz]

Feeling uninspired today, I wield the power of being the one to bring the Gender Race to a close by hitting 1000, transform into the T-Rex that's eating me, cast a spell on myself that resurrects myself as a zombie roughly when the Hill is a thing, die, then come back. The power of a Zombie is relative to age; the ages-old T-Rex is naturally near the levels of a necromantic god. Near, as in, they surpass those levels to a small degree, ergo, they are naturally near those levels.

You bow down in worship of the most awesome thing you have seen ever, any inherent stupidity overcame by sheer cool factor, and I swat you off the hill with a flick of my undead finger, and the entire Chateau is trashed in the process.

You REALLY have to stop building property on the hill, it gets stolen, legally reposessed, or destroyed.

I claim the hill.

MY HILL!!!

[Neo Emolga]

After getting flicked off the hill, I summon Hardcore Havoc Machine Army, and then begin the assault on the hill. I then use Ultra-Mechanist Superpower and construct Mecha-Emogla, and lead the charge. The Spider-Bots shoot their X-09 Bewilder Lasers, which make you in your undead T-Rex form feel dizzy with vertigo. As you barf everywhere, the Hoverbots collectively merge KE-Prototype Laser fire, which transmutes you to baby carrot form. I then fire XAO-Breaker Beam at your baby carrot form, which makes you explode into carrot bits on a molecular level. Your carrot remains are then swept up by dust pan and are dropped off at HosPITal.

We then clean off the hill of the debris and use it as a dance floor. We decide to start with The Hustle, followed by The Twist, and my favorite, the Electric Slide.

MY HILL!!!

[The Nonexistent Tazz]

Ahaha! You've activated my trap card, which is not actually a trap card at all and instead an Aquired Magical Immunity! Your attempt at transforming me into a Baby Carrot fails because I have been transformed so many times that I can now 100% resist it, and indeed merely just turns me into a neutral status state, meaning, no vertigo sickness that couldn't be a thing anyways because I'm a Zombie. I mean, have YOU seen a Zombie barf? This allows me to do a hyper-evasive dodge of my imminent atomization, leaving you in a pickle. I decide to capitalize on that by shoving you into a literal giant pickle, and sending it to an unidentified ethiopian village of starving children. You narrowly escape before they eat you, leaving you very confused as to where you are. You don't think Etheopian villages lived completely underground like this next to a magma river.

Meanwhile, I get on the floor (of the hill) and do the dinosaur. Duh.

MY HILL!!!

[Neo Emolga]

To escape said Ethiopian Village, I use an improvised teleportation device to emerge just a short distance away from the hill, where I catch you doing the dinosaur. On my hill. Not happening.

As I remember your immunity to transformation magic is too high now from continuous exposure, I decide to use some witchcraft instead. The first curse, called Wacky Quackers, messes up your dance and forces you to waddle around like a duck. Which looks even more ridiculous when a half-decomposed T-rex does it. Next, I case Public Embarrassment, which causes a group of waiters and waitresses to materialize out of nowhere, drop a birthday cake in front of you, strap a cone party hat to your head, and then sing a cheesy birthday song before they go back to work and reflect poorly on their life decisions.

But they do leave a very nice birthday cake for you (even though it's not your birthday). I decide to ruin your day further by transforming myself into a one-thousand foot tall Colossal Skunk, stomp my way up to you, and turn my butt toward you to blast with you with the most obnoxiously gigantic fart blast cloud I can, which is followed by a disastrous deluge of stinky skunk spray that drenches you from head to toe and makes you smell somewhere between spicy bean curry poo and what the Sharknado movies would smell like if they had a scent. I've also completely ruined your birthday cake. You are forced to retreat and are now shunned by the rest of society for being a colossally-stinky undead T-Rex.

I then kick back and enjoy the splendors of this wonderful, although now smelly, hill.

MY HILL!!!

[The Nonexistent Tazz]

Your stench has angered the 'Keep Our Wilderness Fresh Committee," or KOWF-C. The KOWF-C proceed to unleash a KOWF-C in retaliation-by which I mean, a "Killer Oval With Fresheners-Cannon type."

I am lazy and uninspired so, to keep it short, the KOWF-C hand you your hindquarters in short order, and the Committee scrub the hill clean. Meanwhile, I just turn myself back to normal and reclaim the hill.

MY HILL!!!

[Neo Emolga]

After being blasted with so much Febreze that I almost get dizzy from the fresh and overwhelming smell of lilac and lavender, I summon Uberbull the Absolutely Enormous Bull via magical spell, which charges into the KOWF-C and sends them bowling over like caffeinated puppies attacking a domino knock-down setup.

At a time when it might have been a better idea for you to stay as a T-Rex, Uberbull finds you and charges into you also before launching your normal body upward, causing you to enter the stratosphere. As you reach the apex of your vertical flight and come tumbling back down, you fall a great distance away from the hill. More specifically, into a warehouse that makes glue traps and driveway sealer. It is not a good day for you.

I make my way back to the hill and now that there's a distinctive lack of you, I claim it for myself.

MY HILL!!!

[The Nonexistent Tazz]

Lacking the ability to just walk back and claim the hill from you, I instead decide to improvise with my current situation and use my considerable upper-body strength to slowly rip the entire warehouse right out of the ground, and then, mustering all of my strength in my barely-mobile position, fling myself forwards into the hill.

Now, an entire warehouse crashing down on your head is no laughing matter, so you're instantly KO'd, and sent flying to the middle of Nowhere. Creepy stuff happens in Nowhere, so enjoy that.

Meanwhile, through a complicated process, I turn the Warehouse into an RPG style dungeon, and as everyone knows, RPG styled dungeons are indestructible until the boss is murdered. I turn myself into the boss, with mastery over all things sticky, and my minions relentlessly patrol the hill and the warehouse, eager to stop all Emolga-based shenanigans dead in its tracks.

MY HILL!!!

[Neo Emolga]

I wake up in the middle of Nowhere, back as an Emolga after the stinky skunk spell wore off. Almost immediately, I am suddenly ambushed by disgruntled QuickChek and 7-Eleven employees who are wielding harpoon guns and flamethrowers. They threaten to eat me if I make a move, but I negotiate my way out by conjuring tacos and chimichangas for them, which forms an alliance as they are no longer hungry in the middle of Nowhere. They help me get back the hill, and I provide them with enjoyable, albeit unhealthy, food.

After helping me find my way out of Nowhere, we find your minions all over the hill and the warehouse. I summon rhinoceros packs and my new companions use their harpoon guns and flamethrowers. Your minions are totally caught off guard from the random and diverse nature of this attack as they've never trained for it before. After losing the fight, your minions flee and the survivors are immediately bribed with additional tacos and chimichangas. The way I make them is simply irresistible.

As I see the warehouse is now your personal dungeon, and rather than navigate it and subject myself to all your anti-Emolga nonsense, we seal the entire warehouse in an air-tight container, and then mount a giant Slurpee machine to the last entrance in the roof. With it, we then fill your entire warehouse dungeon with cherry-flavored, ice-cold, refreshing Slurpee. You enjoy this at first, until you realize there's way more than you can handle and you drown in Slurpee. With you dead for the time being, your warehouse explodes into a giant gushing pile of Slurpee. This makes all the children of the world celebrate at the idea of free Slurpee, which we happily offer for everyone. While they clean it all off and no Slurpee goes to waste, you are sent to HosPITal to be revived. To your misfortune, you miss out on the tacos, chimichangs, and free cheery Slurpee and instead have to deal with the unsavory blandness of HosPITal food.

MY HILL!!!