| Darkman vs. Green Hornet | |
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| Season 2, Episode 3 | |
| Air date | March 17, 2017 |
| Written by | I'm Lynda |
| Episode guide | |
| Previous Mr. Incredible vs. Simon Bar Sinister and Cad |
Next Megamind vs. Syndrome |
Darkman vs. Green Hornet is a What-If? Death Battle by I'm Lynda. It features Darkman from Darkman movie series, and the Green Hornet from the long-running media franchise of the same name.
Description[]
Some men fight crime by flying around in brightly-colored spandex, while others fight it from the shadows. Among those who fight criminals from the shadows are some who are thought to be bad-guys themselves. And when two of these imagined villains meet, sparks fly!
Interlude[]
Boomstick: Everybody knows that the baddest of the badasses wear fedora hats!
Wiz: Is that because you own that old, ratty fedora that you claim was worn by Al Capone?
Boomstick: Hey, I got that on eBay. A letter of authenticity came with it and everything.
Wiz: Well, anyway, while our combatants for this battle do wear fedoras, that’s not what sets them apart.
Boomstick: That’s right, these two badasses fight crime from the shadows, both perceived to be as bad or worse than the criminals they fight.
Wiz: There’s Peyton Westlake, the Darkman.
Boomstick: And there’s Britt Reid, the Green Hornet.
Wiz: I’m Wiz, and he’s Boomstick.
Boomstick: And it's our job to analyze their weapons, armor and skills to find out who would win a Death Battle.
Darkman[]
Wiz: Dr. Peyton Westlake had it all, a beautiful girlfriend, a rewarding career, and a stylish downtown apartment.
Boomstick: However, everything came crashing down when his district attorney girlfriend, Julie Hastings, found some damning evidence against a billionaire developer.
Wiz: The developer wanted the evidence back, and sent his associate, ruthless mob boss, Robert G. Durant, and his goons to get it back.
Boomstick: Surprising Westlake in his lab, they proceeded to torture him for the document. They beat him to a pulp, burned him with electricity, shoved his head into a vat of acid, and blew up the lab with him in it. It was definitely an “I’d rather be fishing” sort of day for the good doctor.
Wiz: Blown clear of the lab, he was found and rushed to a hospital with severe burns that would leave him in permanent agony. To alleviate his suffering, he was subjected to a radical treatment, where they severed the nerves in his spinothalamic tract. This took away his ability to feel pain or vibratory stimulus, but it also left him mentally unstable, allowing adrenaline to surge through his body when angry, giving him augmented strength.
Boomstick: So now Dr. Westlake was a loaded weapon with a hair trigger. And he was looking for revenge. He found the developer and dropped him off of a building, and he killed Robert Durant, not once but twice. Since then, he has gone on to face other opponents and has overcome each one.
Wiz: But Peyton is no rampaging monster. Before Durant’s near-fatal attack on him, the good Doctor was working on an artificial skin that would aid burn-victims. Now, he uses it to make masks of people, allowing him to impersonate anyone he wishes. And, he has a good ear for voices, allowing him to not just look like someone else, but to also sound just like them.
Boomstick: Unfortunately, Dr. Westlake’s formula is not perfect. After 99 minutes of exposure to light, any mask that he is wearing will begin to break down; bubbling and melting right off his face.
Wiz: What keeps Peyton Westlake going is his quest to perfect his artificial skin formula, by ending the time limit on it. This would allow him to regain at least a form of a new life. However, so far, the answer has been elusive.
Boomstick: But if you meet the Darkman, do not piss him off. You would not like him when he’s angry. He’s a sort of junior-grade Hulk, and he’s a dangerous man to cross!
Green Hornet[]
Wiz: Britt Reid was something of a millionaire playboy, whose father was a hard-charging newspaper owner/editor. However, when he began reporting too much on the criminal underworld, he soon became the target of an assassination.
Boomstick: After the death of daddy, Britt responded the way any son would, he put on a mask and became a nighttime vigilante...Wait a minute, isn’t that the back story of Batman?
Wiz: Sort of. The difference is that when the police started seeing Britt’s new alter-ego, they assumed that he was just another criminal, and treated him that way. That was fine by Britt, as he took on a modus operandi of pretending to be a criminal, infiltrating criminal organizations, and then bringing them down from the inside.
Boomstick: To flesh out his crime-fighting persona, Britt recruited his valet Kato, who also happened to be a martial arts expert, and mechanical and chemical wizard. And so was born the crime fighting team of the Green Hornet and Kato!
Wiz: Kato, who was a master of several martial arts, including ninjutsu, and he taught Britt how to fight and how to move unseen in the dark. He also tricked out a special command car for Britt and developed several weapons for him.
Boomstick: One of those weapons is the Hornet Stick, a sonic disrupter that can be used to disarm opponents. And when it’s folded up, it can be used as a metal club to beat the crap out of people with.
Wiz: And the other main Hornet weapon is the Gas Gun, a pistol that fires a burst of non-toxic knockout gas that can lay out a number of opponents basically instantaneously.
Boomstick: Wait a moment, the Green Hornet’s weapons sound a bit wimpy to me.
Wiz: Well, though he is posing as a criminal, Britt Reid took a vow early in his career that he would never purposely kill an opponent. As such, his weapons are geared towards incapacitating an opponent, rather than killing him or her.
Boomstick: Nonetheless, the Green Hornet is a bona fide badass who can kick tail wherever he goes. So, don’t take him lightly!
Intermission[]
Wiz: Alright the combatants are set; let’s end this debate once and for all.
Boomstick: Its time for a DEATH BATTLE!
DEATH BATTLE![]
Pre-Fight []
Britt Reid drove his white Chrysler 300 convertible down the new Interstate 55, heading towards Joliet. The wind whipped past his hair, and the lazy, late-afternoon sun kissed his warmly tanned skin.
Ostensibly, Britt was driving down to meet a publishing friend of his, and he would indeed be meeting him. But, the meeting was more of a cover for Britt. An out-of-town mobster named Robert G. Durant was spotted in town, and the Green Hornet wanted to move him along as quickly as possible.
Kato was going to be surveilling a man in Chicago, and would need Black Beauty, so here he was in the convertible. Britt didn’t mind as the convertible was a wonderful car as well.
The sun had set, and Britt pulled the convertible into an alley just down from the still charming but now sadly decaying old Rialto Square Theatre. Switching off the car, he reached into the hidden compartment, and extracted the Green Hornet’s trademark green coat and fedora. He stepped out of the car, donned the outfit, and began walking up the alley.
He knew where Durant was supposed to be, and he staked out the alley door of the building. A single bare light bulb burned in an old fixture, brightly illuminating the door and a few feet of alley, but casting everything else into shadows.
The Hornet didn’t have long to wait before the door opened, and his target stepped out. The man looked left and right nervously, and then began walking briskly away.
“Durant!” the Green Hornet called, causing the other man to stop short. “We need to talk.”
Peyton Westlake, wearing the face of Robert Durant spun around at the shout, and found himself confronted by a man in an expensive-looking coat and hat, and wearing a green mask with a picture of a hornet above the eyes. Westlake decided to stay in character as Durant. Now, how would he handle this situation?
“What’s this?” he snorted, “Halloween? Listen, Sonny, I haven’t got any candy. Just move along.”
Westlake turned to walk away, but a gloved hand grabbed his shoulder, and spun him back around. Fury bubbled up through his mind and threatened to engulf him. His eye began to twitch.
“You’re treading on my turf, Durant. You didn’t ask permission, and I really don’t like that,” the Hornet said in a menacing voice.
Westlake knew that he only had a matter of minutes before the synthetic skin of his disguise began to break down, and he needed to get out of here in a hurry.
“Listen, Mister, I’m leaving your stinking ‘turf.’ So, just leave me alone, and we both walk away from this alley,” Westlake countered, dabbing nervously at his right cheek with his handkerchief.
The Green Hornet didn’t understand this Robert Durant. He could see great anger warring with great fear in his eyes. He was hiding something, and the Hornet wanted to know what it was.
“What are you doing here, Durant? This isn’t anywhere near your normal haunts,” he asked.
Westlake turned again, wanting desperately to terminate this conversation and slip away into the night.
The Green Hornet grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around again. He grabbed his lapels and pulled him in closely, trying to appear as menacing as possible. “I’m not done with you, Durant!” he snarled into his face.
Fury rose again in Westlake’s mind, and then rose higher. He was losing control.
Just then, the Hornet noticed that the skin around Durant’s right eye began to bubble and peel back.
“What the hell?!” the Hornet exclaimed.
Just then Westlake/Durant screamed in fury and punched the Hornet in the chest, sending him flying backward.
FIGHT! []
The Hornet caught himself before he could fall into a pile of garbage along the alley wall, and dropped into a defensive stance.
Westlake roared like an enraged animal, and charged at the Green Hornet. The Hornet fell back a step, and then punched his opponent in the face with his left fist and then his right. The attack rocked Westlake back, but he recovered with startling quickness, and punched the Hornet in the chest, again sending him flying backwards.
Britt Reid could not believe how bad his chest hurt. It felt like he had hit him with a car, rather than with his fist. He reached into the pocket of his coat, and extracted his Gas Gun. It was time to shut this man down, and quick.
Before the Hornet could pull the trigger, the Darkman was on him. He grabbed the wrist holding the gun, and pushed it straight up. The two men grappled for the gun, which discharged harmlessly into the night sky.
In a blind rage, Westlake pulled the gun out of his opponent’s hand, and then shoved him off. He took the weapon in both hands, and bent it in half.
The Hornet could not believe the man’s strength, as he watched him twist the Gas Gun into a pretzel. He reached inside his coat, and pulled out the Hornet Sting. Although its sonic beam was pretty much useless in this fight, it still made a formidable weapon as a baton.
He charged in behind Durant, and placed the Sting against his opponent’s throat. He held it firmly in both hands, and pulled it against the man’s throat with all his might. If he could get the man’s feet off the ground, then he would have him at his mercy.
Durant gurgled, but didn’t seem to panic, as the Hornet had hoped. Instead, the man put both hands on the Sting, and pulled it away from his throat, nearly ripping it out of the Hornet’s hands.
He spun on his heel and roared at the Hornet, striking out with a back-handed hit that sent the man flying.
Reid’s head rang like a bell, but he kept his thoughts clear, focusing on everything that Kato had taught him. He dropped into a defensive stance, and when Durant charged forward again, he brought the Sting across the man’s face in a vicious blow. The blow brought him up short, even as something flew from the man’s face.
Durant looked up at the Hornet, and it seemed like the skin slid off his face, leaving a bizarre mass of muscle and scar tissue looking at him.
“Oh my God,” the Hornet said.
Peyton Westlake looked at his opponent as if through a fog. In his mind’s eye he could see the man’s expression turn from horror to hilarity, and he began to laugh at Westlake’s ruined face. Voices echoed around his head, with the words, “You’re a freak!” predominating.
Westlake roared at his opponent, and charged at him again. The man brought his rod up and aimed another blow at his head. This time, Peyton caught the weapon in his hands, determined to break it, just like he had the other. To his surprise, the green-coated man swiveled on the balls of his feet, and flipped him over, smashing him to the ground.
The man punched Westlake in the face once, twice, three times. Then, Westlake grabbed the descending fist, and pulled, yanking his attacker over him, and sending him flying down the alley.
The Hornet righted himself, and watched in amazement as his opponent leaped to his feet. The man had taken a number of ferocious blows, but none of it seemed to be slowing him down.
As the man charged in, Britt sidestepped to the right, and shoved the passing man off balance. When the man went down on all fours on the ground, he charged in, and used Sting to deliverer a savage blow to the back of his head.
Instead of dropping down, though, he reached out and wrapped his arms around the Hornet’s knees, lifting him up and over his back. The Hornet hit the alley floor, and kicked out at his attacker, freeing his legs.
He leapt to his feet, only to find the other man on top of him. The man grabbed the Hornet by the throat, and began to squeeze. Reid brought his hands together, and then rammed his arms up, between those of his attacker, aiming to break his grip. To his horror, he found the man’s arms locked on him like iron. The move had to work...but it didn’t.
He tried it again, and again. With his air chocked off, the world began to swim before his eyes. He brought his hands up, and slapped the man’s ears as hard as he could. The pain should have been excruciating, but the man continued to strangle the life out of him.
Britt Reid kicked and punched at the man as hard as he could, but nothing seemed to faze him. At last, his vision began to go dark, and he watched as the bizarre, almost-inhuman face faded from view.
KO! []
Peyton Westlake dropped his opponent, and looked down at him.
‘Yet another rotten criminal face down in an alley,’ he thought to himself. 'Serves him right.’
He reached into his coat, brought out his bandages, and wrapped them quickly around the ruins of his face. He needed to get out of here and back to his lair.
He pulled out his hat, placed it on his head, turned, and raced out of the alley as fast as he could.
Results[]
Boomstick: Well, another one bites the dust. Another one’s gone. Another one’s gone. Another one bites the dust.
Wiz: Yes, it turns out that this Death Battle was not as balanced as it might have seemed at the beginning. While the Green Hornet is a formidable crime fighter, he simply did not have what it took to overcome Darkman’s advantages.
Boomstick: You see, the Green Hornet’s vow to never purposely take a human life, left him with a limited arsenal. His Gas Gun could have knocked out Darkman, but if that failed, which it did, then he had to rely on his hand-to-hand combat training.
Wiz: And, unfortunately, the bulk of his moves were designed to cause pain to his opponent, causing him to either withdraw from the fight or be rendered unconscious.
Boomstick: In Darkman’s case, the moves couldn’t cause him any pain, but just pissed him off even further. And, if there’s one thing you should avoid, it’s a pissed-off Darkman. He simply left the Green Hornet...breathless.
Wiz: <Groan>
Boomstick: So, the winner is the man with the overcooked face, Darkman!
Next Time[]
Next time on Death Battle! we bring together two mega-geniuses and make them pound each other into hamburger! Checkout Megamind vs. Syndrome!