Meat Puppets with Random Weapons from a Box

Brainless bodies. Absurd weapons. Bored trillionaires.

The one-on-one brawler where you pilot a puppet printed from cricket flour, draw a weapon from THE BOX and fight for the entertainment of the people who own everything.

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Two meat puppets face off in the Food Court, one with a baseball bat and one with a chainsaw, while THE BOX bursts open and a trillionaire watches from a floating golden recliner

Watch the trailer

Breaking: trillionaires bored againToday's protein: spirulina (acid green)No sentient beings were harmed in this broadcastTHE BOX inspected by: nobodyPlunger suction now 12% suctionierCaution: wet proteinNow open: the Sponsor Pit Breaking: trillionaires bored againToday's protein: spirulina (acid green)No sentient beings were harmed in this broadcastTHE BOX inspected by: nobodyPlunger suction now 12% suctionierCaution: wet proteinNow open: the Sponsor Pit

Live from the MPWRWFAB League (working title)™

The sport of the future,
printed fresh daily

A law says no sentient being may suffer in a fight. The trillionaires found a loophole: bodies without a brain. You pilot one of them, remotely, in two-minute bouts that end in protein paste on the walls.

A meat puppet in a teal jumpsuit and a chrome visor helmet

Printed on the spot

Every bout you get a fresh, brainless, single-use body printed from cricket flour, spirulina or worse. You pilot it through a neural link. It doesn't mind. It can't.

THE BOX, an orange game-show crate with marquee bulbs and a slot-machine reel

Weapons from a Box

A bat, a chainsaw, a plunger, a sword, a chain, The Toy, and a pistol you will shoot yourself with. THE BOX decides. Both of you see what the other got. Unless somebody bribed it.

An elderly trillionaire in sequins and fur on a floating golden recliner

For their entertainment

The trillionaires on their floating recliners paid for all of this, and they expect a show. Stall, and they start throwing trays, bottles and small bombs.

Now airing on League TV

Watch the trailer

On air

Two minutes, start to recycling

How a bout goes

Every match follows the same script, because the League's lawyers wrote it and nobody dared to change it.

Print
While matchmaking finds your rival, your puppet is printed live. Meet today's protein.
Warm up
A few seconds to stretch the legs you were given a minute ago.
THE BOX
One at a time, each puppet draws a weapon. Both see both. Or you knock the secret knock and bribe it.
Fight
Anything goes until someone hits zero. Stall, and the arena makes you fight.
KO
Slow motion, ragdoll, splatter. A vertical replay, ready to share. Time runs out? You both lose.
Recycle
Loser and winner both get recycled. Unless it was a flawless victory: then the puppet comes home with you.

Read the full rulebook

Property of the League

Try THE BOX

Marquee bulbs, a slot-machine reel, a hydraulic lid and an INSERT BRIBE slot. Inspected by: nobody. Pull and see what you would fight with today.

Your weapon?

THE BOX is waiting. It is always waiting.

See every weapon

Krikket Krush: 100% cricket, 0% guiltWorm Burger: flame grilled, worm sourcedSpiru-Lean: now with 40% more pondPea-zza: peas on earth, by the sliceMyco Mart: fungi and more (mostly fungi)Fro-Yo 3000: served by robots, approved by robots Krikket Krush: 100% cricket, 0% guiltWorm Burger: flame grilled, worm sourcedSpiru-Lean: now with 40% more pondPea-zza: peas on earth, by the sliceMyco Mart: fungi and more (mostly fungi)Fro-Yo 3000: served by robots, approved by robots

Venues of questionable taste

The arenas

Each one with its own cover, ramps, things that explode and its own way of punishing whoever runs away.

Grand re-opening

Food Court

A dead mall, dressed up for TV on a tight budget.

Live audience

Sponsor Pit

A TV studio where every surface is for sale.

Hard hats optional

Protein Plant Rooftop

The roof of the factory that prints you.

Your host

Meet the League

Welcome back to the MPWRWFAB! That's the sport, folks, not a sneeze. The commentator, a trillionaire

Trillionaires who miss "the blood and the sweat", a League that trademarked its own placeholder name, and sentient AI pilots with tics and catchphrases who step in when no human is around (always labelled as AI).

Read the lore