This is a work of Fiction and does not correlate with reality in anyway.
This story depicts Popping of Inflatable Characters.
Characters are cast with blessing from respective Owners.
Artwork by https://www.furaffinity.net/user/rury96

____________________________________________________________________________________________

The Pop Royale

The sun finally broke through the overcast morning sky and danced off the perfect flat calm of the lake's water. The odd 50 or so contestants can be seen dotted about the rim. They, like us have been camped out in their designate spots for the night as part of the contest rules. No food. Only water and the equipment for the event. Cold, hungry, sleep deprived and bored. Our riders were kept strictly in their starting positions without any means of contact or communication with the outside world. Least collusions or sabotage can be planed.

A drone buzzed overhead and hovered high in the centre of the lake, letting out a long blast of a horn. The signal for final preparations. Only now are the contestants allowed to touch the lake waters and don their equipment. My rider came back from from the water's edge and began pumping more air into my various chambers. The waters must be very cold this morning. But the sun does look like it will fully appear. Pressure choices must be carefully balanced between the cold waters and the sun's heat.

A quarter hour past after the first horn. Another much larger drone roared over and hovered in the middle of the lake sending out another horn blast. My rider hauled me up by my harness and straddled me by the water edge. He adjusted the red headband he tied on my head. A little something to boost my confidence together with a little loving kiss on my cheek. Donning his goggles, we watch the Camera drones buzz about all the constestants. An ensemble of various beautiful creations prepared to do battle this morning.

Without warning, the large drone roared skywards while releasing its payload, which fell to the centre of the lake. Just before hitting the water, an explosion sent hundreds of dark coloured puncture hazards splashing all around the lake. This also signaled the start of the 5th annual Incredible Puffy Creation Company Pop Royale. Me and my rider both plunge into the frigid waters.

The rules of the contest were simple. Winner is the last one afloat. Riders were only allowed to damage toys and must remain on their toy. Any nick on the full body mesh suits will result in instant disqualification of the attacker. This made weapon and toy selection interesting. Large toys are more stable attack platforms but are bigger targets. Ranged weapons must not accidentally hit riders. Riders can shield their toys with their bodies. No one aspect of toy and weapon selection can convey a definite advantage.

My rider had gone for the very traditional but effective bowie knife on a stick. It has a hollow stainless steel haft for lightness and buoyancy. He dipped the glimmering tip into the water ahead to knock aside any hidden puncture hazards. We were sneaking up on another dark purple Dragon whose rider was occupied with reloading his harpoon gun. The bowie knife barely rose above the water's surface and stabbed into the Dragon's purple tail scales, releasing a huge bubbling gush that splash cold water on my face as we banked away.

We did not loiter to celebrate my first "kill". A loud beeping indicated my rival is indeed down as his rider's life vest activated. I felt my internal pressure rise from the excitement, or it could be the sun beginning to beat down. Either way any self doubts I had with myself was banish at this point. My headband fluttered in the breeze while circling around the lake edge where we saw a dozen or so projectile wielding rivals taking up positions in the middle, where the sunken debris are densest.

It was very cunning of them as they did not have to move much while they covered any melee opponents who risked puncturing themselves on an approach, while also taking sneaky pot shots at other shooters. Using our low profile, and the distractions the shooters were providing, we sped along to several larger toys. A large pink Tiger never saw us coming as the blade slashed into his belly. The blue Seadragon did see us approach and their rider turned and swung their spear at us. We were forced to break off in front of them least their spear impale my rump.

The much larger Seadragon charged, fully intending to use her larger bulk to flip us over. She was surprisingly fast for her size and bulk. Just before impact, a large harpoon burst out of her chest with a gush of vinyl scented air. Just barely missing my own tail. The entry wound was far larger and she went down brushing my spine. We were now expose to the shooters who were rapidly drawing their aim. Watching my much larger rival go down from a single shot caused my earlier gained confidence to wane as bolts and darts wizz and splash about.

There was however, no hesitation from my rider. He lent over to my right shielding my flank with his body and turning us straight ahead against the shooters ! My fore and hind legs strained with my rider's off balanced weight as I stare in terror as 3 rivals turned towards me while bringing weapons to bear. Straining to keep me upright, my rider did not waiver. The blade cut a small bow wave as it knock unseen hazards out of my path as we speed headlong towards my rivals.

The blade did not raise as we collided into a purple Raptoress. The impact tipped her backwards and her rider lost both his harpoon gun and his balance, tipping into the drink with the loud beep of his life vest inflating. The look of loss in the Raptoress' eyes were quickly replaced with anger as she tried to lash out, but now riderless, she was easily shoved into a grey Wolfhound. Before the Hound's rider could compensate, the blade was raised from the water, stabbing into the Hound's chest.

We disengaged and turned around, leaving the riderless Raptoress as cover against the sinking Wolfhound. We were again exposed but other melee fighters had use our distraction to swarm the shooters. It looks like more that half the contestants have been eliminated already and it hasn't reach mid day yet as we rejoin the fray.

As the field thinned out, things got progressively harder. Other rivals could spot us more easily and were more wary of our movements. One on one duels became common as rivals grew further away from each others. The sun has past the zenith and I could feel my rider tiring. His directions were becoming vague and his blows less energetic as we make another attack run against a fellow blue Dragon.

We circled each other, His rider held a spear high, looking for a chance to stab my exposed tail and rump. We were very evenly matched as my rival could easily have been my brother. We closed in. And time slowed. The spear descended. My rider's blade rise to parry. The clash of steel. The spear went off course from my head and stabbed painfully into my left front leg. This gave my rider the chance to drive his weapon clean into my rival's chest. Ending the duel.

Tears streamed pass my battle paint as my rider ripped the spear from my flaccid leg. It hurt so bad. But watching one of my brothers deflate and sink hurt even more. Camera drones buzzed overhead no doubt livestreaming the unfolding drama. My rider held my neck tenderly, softly apologizing for the injury I sustained. But the battle is not over yet and one last rival was charging towards us over the horizon.

Surprisingly, my rider turned us around and fled. My deflated front limb was dragging in the water and slowing us down. Why were we running ? Camera drones raced after us as I hazard a look at my rival. He was a sleek black Dragon. He was fast, very fast. Only when we turned around to circle, did I understood why my rider decided to flee.

My rival was badly injured. He was bleeding air from several punctures in his tail. His rider was hunched low on him to keep up his pressure. The trident his rider wielded was kept low in the water to help with stability. The plan to tire him out was not working. My own injuries were dragging down my speed, and he was too fast to keep away. The trident lunged at my tail puncturing the frill. This wasn't going to work !

We circled around again. Steel clashing as our riders try to stab us. My rival knew his time was limited and grew desparate by the second. His thrust came in wild and fast, aiming for my face and chest. The drones were crowding the skies as their buzzing mixed with the clash of steel. Another circle. That was when my rival faltered. His body grew too limp from air loss to support his rider. Before tumbling into the water, he let his trident fly. I only saw a flash as I circled around. A trident impaled itself into my snout.

The flash of pain was unbearable. A fresh stream of tears erupted, but were blown about by the gushing punctures. My rider held the trident steady so the barbs don't rend my skin further. I could feel my body growing soft as more and air rush to freedom. But my rider managed to gingerly guide my limp form to the shore before I manage to complete deflate. As the winners, we were entitled to temporary patches and the use of a pump. But not much time were given for anything else before we were whisked away into the winner's circle.

Wet. Tired. Hungry. Leaking. Winners. There was no crowd. Not even other contestants. Only the constant buzz of the camera drones and one company representative who greeted us on the stage set up by the lakeside.

"As promised, the winners of the 5th Incredible Puffy Creation Company Pop Royale. You are entitled to submit your own design, and have 100 units made. Please choose and commit wisely. Terms and conditions of course, applies. The prize money of $10,000 shall be transferred to your applied bank account. Damages to your mount from today's event shall be repaired by any one of our facilities, gratis. From Mr. QuanYi at the factory, we congratulate our winners today !"

The company man's face immediately darkens as he turns and tromps away. My rider turned towards me, looking straight into my tear smudged and punctured face. "Thanks to you, you're going to have sisters again. We will be fulfilling your old Master's wish. Your species will come back from the dead and trive again !".

All those weeks of training. How fortunate to find such a skilled rider. All to gain a chance for my sisters' rebirth. Since the company who made us closed down, our numbers have been slowly dwindling. No one except elite selected few can afford factory manufacturing rights anymore. This very event was borne from their greed and desire for spectacle. Who knows how much they profit off broadcasting the event. At least, through such barbaric means, we could see our numbers common again.

While I weep for my injuries, I too weep for my rivals. How many of them will not survive the wrath of their defeated riders tonight ? How many will not be repaired as punishment for their performance today ? I wish we did not exist in a such a world. We are toys. Made to bring happiness and comfort. Not devices of pain and destruction. Before I could delve into darker thoughts, my rider picked me up by my harness. "Lets get you cleaned and head home." Yes. Lets.

End.