diamondpearl876's Nominations

You can smell Aanya Singh's choice before you see her. A wave of raw-sewage stench, leavened by some chemical scents you can't identify, washes over you, and you decide right then and there that you won't need your sense of smell for a while. The great Nathaniel Morgan, who doesn't have the luxury of turning off his olfaction, gags and grabs for the railing. Down on the field, Raticate buries his face in the dirt.

The puddle of sludge disgorged by Aanya Singh's pokéball quivers, grows a gaping hole in the middle, and says, "Oh my God, is it me? I'm up?" The muk gathers herself, heaping up into a lopsided mound with vaguely-defined mouth and eyes. A great pseudopod stretches up from one corner of her body, growing drippy fingers and waving to the crowd. "Look at all of them! They love me!" Her waving hurls hunks of goo in all directions, wilting grass wherever they land. "Yeeeeah!" Muk bellows, hand clenching into a sloppy imitation of a fist. "Let's do this!"

"Oh, this is just fantastic," Raticate says. He raises his head reluctantly as the referee announces the round but keeps a paw over his nose, his eyes watering.