The moment arrives and both stare at each other with awe, both evaluating opposing weaknesses and plan strategies of attack. The first blow is made, the stronger of the two has made its move. The blow is both swift and decisive, there are causalities. Majority from the Hardshells with their unmistakable remains stacking up. 

However the oppressed stands resilient, it will not go down without a fight. They are hard to break down, hard to siff out even with the Bi-Pedels' superior armory. And every now and then the Hardshells  would breakout a surprise ruse, a prick at the sensitive areas of the Bi-Pedals. Staining blows to the chest of their oppressors. They have studied their enemy well.

Although wounded, the Bi-pedals do not let up and soon the Hardshells are surrounded and their numbers dwindling. They are sieged, barricaded – there is no escape and the enemy continues comes in for the kill, the final blow.

“Hold fast” they cry, “to the every end!” screams a cry of defiance but alas, the bitter end is played out as the remaining few Hardshells are picked off and put out of their misery.

Scarred, stained, and filled, the conquerors finally chance the moment to seat back and savor the victory. Together they declare in unison …

“We did it … should have ordered less crabs man”

Enjoy!

The Stranded Homesick 
P.S - Pictures below *Warning* - you may not want to see!