First-year Tournament of Doom competitor Beast-Man on Wednesday forced the Tournament of Doom Council to officially recognize a holiday in honor of the accomplishments of underdogs in ToD competitions.
The Council capitulated to Beast-Man's demands after a series of physical threats that left many fearful of their lives.
"Although I would never consider myself an underdog, others-particularly the Council-are determined to stereotype some competitors as weaker than others," Beast-Man said. "As I proved in my match with Lt. Worf, such judgments are often baseless. I triumphed in grand fashion, and because of my triumph here today, all competitors can hold out the hope that no matter what the odds, they too can walk away winners."
Beast-Man defeated Worf in a first round surprise in the first ToD. His victory is often regarded as lucky break, however, as Beast-Man was declared the winner after Worf tripped and impaled himself on his own weapon.
"A win is a win!" Beast-Man proclaimed when reminded of his fight. "It doesn't matter if I limped around during most of the match in a beaten, bloody haze. I beat Worf fair and square!"
The methods Beast-Man used to convince the Council to recognize Underdog Day were hardly statesmanlike. After asking politely during an off-season Council meeting in which the Council unanimously rejected Beast-Man's proposal, Beast-Man turned to a more coercive approach.
First, in order to gain access to the Council's meeting room, Beast-Man challenged security guard Steve Keenan to an arm wrestling match.
"I'm not one to turn down a challenge, especially against a pathetic orange humanoid like Beast-Man," Keenan said. "But after a minute I had to give up. His stench was just…execrable."
Beast-Man then burst in on the Council meeting, demanding the recognition of Underdog Day, and revealed he was holding a thermal detonator.
"I saw it in a movie once," Beast-Man said. "It worked on a 1,000 pound slug, so I was sure it would work on someone like [council member Eric] Kerkove."
The Council quickly moved to designate the second Tuesday of the yearly Tournament of Doom competition as Underdog Day. A second resolution passed after Beast-Man left specified the holiday is to honor "all those competitors who, through blind luck, stumbled into victory out of the depths of defeat."
Some former competitors were not pleased. "This just opens the door for any two-bit jerk with access to an explosive device to demand a holiday in their honor," said Captain America. "I mean, come on, do I have a holiday to glorify my red, white, and blue heinie?"

Members of the Loony Tunes community are grieving over the loss of beloved colleague Porky Pig following a disastrous training mishap.
Mr. Pig was practicing with the hope of competing in next year's Tournament of Doom when a bomb rigged by coach and former ToD competitor Wile E. Coyote detonated in his vicinity.
Although Mr. Coyote walked away from the accident burnt to a crispy black, Mr. Pig was not as lucky.
"He was working his way through an obstacle course the Coyote had designed," said witness and former competitor Yosemite Sam. "He had just waded through a pond full of alligators and piranhas when he began running across a field littered with booby traps. He had taken no more than three steps when he tripped on a wire and an Acme Co. Bomb went off. I heard him squeal and it was…" Mr. Sam trailed off, unable to finish his thoughts. He found consolation in the arms of Foghorn Leghorn.
Loony Tunes stalwarts Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck are asking hard questions about Mr. Coyote's methods. "I don't know what kind of ToD the Coyote is thinking about, but the Tournament of Doom I know and love has nothing to do with falling rocks, catapults, rocket launchers, pools of alligators, and ten-ton bombs," Mr. Bunny said. "The Coyote's practice regimen is reckless and dangerous, and what has happened to Porky proves it."
Mr. Duck remembered Mr. Pig as a tough worker. "He was a trooper. He always gave 110%. He wasn't going to let anything-his clumsiness, his stocky build, his stuttering-stand in the way of his dreams. I mean, sure, he wouldn't stand a chance in the ring fighting someone like Wolverine or Optimus Prime, (although I would pay good money to watch that mismatch,) but who's to tell a pig he can't do something he sets his mind to? Wile E. destroyed those dreams, and it's a travesty."
Mr. Coyote dodged the media most of the day but did have a few comments as he left a neighborhood hospital. "Listen, I've fallen from heights of over 200 feet. I've run into stone cliffs at over 200 miles per hour. I've been reduced to numerous piles of ash. Every time, I come back good as new. You've seen it happen in the ToD too. One day, the Sabretooth Tiger rips Grimace to shreds; the next day, Grimace is out and about, healthy as a…whatever he is. Porky's fine. He'll be back."
As of publication, Porky Pig is still missing.

Eleven participants in this summer's Tournament have filed a legal suite against the Luther College Cafeteria (LCC), which, as usual was the main source for meals and snacks for Tournament contestants. The eleven claim that the "grease-soaked glop" distributed by the LCC lacked the nutrition needed for top performance in the physically demanding tournament.

Although the LCC would not comment directly, we did receive a statement from Funshine Bear (a past tournament participant herself), who is their legal representation in this case. "Luther has always and continues to provide tasty and nutritious meals in the on-campus dining facilities as well as to all catered events, even those as far away as the Death Star." As far as the participants' claims that their performance suffered during the tournament, "Every corpse, even the most charred and barely recognizable, appeared to be made of healthy well-nourished tissue. These claims are just one of many attempts to point a finger at innocent third parties to explain horrific losses due to lack of talent, training and charisma." ¨