"Chappil the Immovable?" asked Bergamo, as the clouds floated past them. "I can't say that I have. Tell me more."

"Guy's part of the Iron Dragon clan," said Hop. "They live in the Alaspice Mountains. And brother, you've gotta be one tough son of a gun in order to live there."

Bergamo's eyes widened with wonder. "Tell me more."

"Well, see, they do all their farming at the base of the mountain. But their settlements are on the peaks. So every harvest, they've gotta carry all their crops to the top. Now, if you're wondering why they don't just build their settlements at the base, it's because they've got this superstition that their resting place has to be as close to the moon as possible..."

Hop went on and on about the Iron Dragons - their history, the effect that all their adversity has had on their bodies, and finally, their proudest warrior, Chappil - all while leading the group through the clouds, presumably to the Dragons' home. Lavenda spent the entire trip panting and making goo-goo eyes at her, while Sorrel spent it cowering behind Hyssop; Hop ignored both of them.

"Now, here's the thing about Chappil," said Hop. "He's a- oh! Here we are."

Hop stopped in her tracks and pointed downwards. The team's attention was drawn towards a mountain range a mile or so below them, with faint outlines of cottages resting atop one of the peaks. She started to descend towards the peak, while motioning for the rest to follow her - which they did.

"I must say, the breadth of your knowledge is impressive," said Bergamo. "I didn't expect you to be quite so well-read."

"The prison's got a fully stocked library," explained Hop. "Spend a lot of time in there reading, because, y'know, what else am I gonna do?"

As the team floated downwards, the outlines started to become clearer; several tall, humanoid figures started to come into view around the cottages. As they drew closer still, they began to notice the villagers' draconic features, like ebony horns, elongated snouts, whip-like tails, and torsos covered with silvery scales. Just before they touched down, one of the inhabitants - a (relatively) short, hunchbacked dragon dressed in a dirty gray toga - gave them a wave hello.

"Good day, travelers!" he said in a raspy voice, beaming brightly. Taking a moment to look around, the team noticed that the other villagers who approached them were also sporting warm smiles. Bergamo was a bit surprised at the warm welcome, but he wasn't about to complain.

"And a good day to you, too," said Bergamo, giving a small bow. "My name is Bergamo. These are my brothers, Lavenda and Basil, and my friends, Sorrel, Oregano, Hyssop, Comfrey, Roselle and Hop."

"Hello, hello!" said the toga-clad dragon, shaking each of their hands as their names were called out. "Welcome to the Iron Dragon village. To what do we owe this pleasure?"

Bergamo crouched down a little to meet the dragon at his eye level. As he did, the rest of the group gathered around both of them, listening intently to their conversation.

"We're recruiting warriors for a multiversal fighting tournament," said Bergamo. "We've heard talk about a member of your clan named... Chappil, was it?" He momentarily glanced at Hop, who gave him a nod.

"Ah, Chappil the Immovable!" exclaimed the dragon. "The hardiest fellow on all of Parika. At least, we'd like to think so."

"Perfect," said Bergamo. "Take us to him."

The old dragon's smile shrank, and Bergamo's did soon afterwards. "I... I'm afraid that might be a bit difficult," said the old dragon.

"And why is that?" asked Bergamo, narrowing his eyes.

"He's asleep."

The elder's explanation earned him some incredulous looks from around the circle.

"Then we'll just wake him up!" cried Lavenda.

The elder sighed and shook his head. "Not an easy task, I'm afraid. Chappil isn't just the mightiest warrior in our village; he's also the heaviest sleeper."

Bergamo took a step back, massaging his temples in frustration. There's always a catch. There's always, always, always a catch.

"You can try to wake him up if you wish," said the elder, pointing towards the far side of the village. Near the edge of the mountain stood a tall, lithe, platinum-colored dragon, with long black horns jutting out of his head, wearing nothing but a purple-sleeved tunic that left his midriff completely bare. The dragon had his head bowed, his arms folded across his chest, and his eyes shut.

"He sleeps standing up?" asked Basil, raising an eyebrow.

"We all do," said the elder dragon. "Our ancestors began the practice long ago, believing that it made them stronger."

"Does it?" asked Basil.

"Heck if I know. But once you get into a habit, it's hard to kick it."

With that, the elder shuffled off to the side and extended a hand towards Chappil's sleeping form. "As I said, you're welcome to try. Between the nine of you, I'm sure at least one of you could-"

"CHAPPIL! WAKE UP, CHAPPIL! WAKEY, WAKEY, EGGS AND BAKEY!"

While the rest of the group was occupied, Oregano had apparently taken it upon itself to make the first move. The team looked over to see him clinging to Chappil's body like a spider monkey and bellowing into his ear. Soon afterwards, Sorrel decided to join in on the fun, hopping around Chappil's stationary form and clapping her hands. "Wake up, Chappil, rise and shine! Up and at 'em, sleepy dragon!"

Bergamo groaned, bemoaning the fact that there wasn't a wall nearby for him to beat his head against.

Oregano and Sorrel, predictably, were met with complete failure. A few of the other team members joined in, and they fared no better. Comfrey and Roselle tried to bribe Chappil, and were completely ignored. Hop tried to wake him up by grabbing his crotch, only to find that there was nothing to grab. All the while, Bergamo, Basil and Hyssop watched the rest of the gang in disappointed silence.

"Should we tell them to stop trying?" asked Hyssop.

"As much as I'd like to, I'm struggling to come up with a better idea," Bergamo said with a sigh.

"I'm sure something'll come to us," said Basil.

The three of them stood together in thought, watching the chaos play out before them as the gears in their head turned and turned. Basil started to go through all of the unique talents that the individual team members sported, wondering if any of them could be used to solve the problem.

Sorrel? No, you can't leech energy from someone who's already asleep. Oregano? No, what would those webs even do? Hyssop? No, I don't think freezing him would help either. Lavenda? Even if the poison did wake him up, we don't want to poison an ally right before a tournament. Bergamo?

...

Light bulb.

Basil excitedly skipped over to Bergamo and Hyssop, whispering his plan into both of their ears. Hyssop reacted with an appreciative head nod, while Bergamo's eyes widened with intrigue.

"You know what?" he asked, cracking a smile at his youngest brother. "It just might be crazy enough to work. Let's give it a try."

Basil pumped his fist in triumph, grabbed Bergamo by the shoulders and kneed him in the abdomen as hard as he could. Bergamo choked out a grunt of pain and fell to his knees, causing the rest of the group to stop what they were doing and jerk their heads around towards the source of the cry.

"Basil, you dumb galoot! What the heck did you do that for?!" cried Roselle. "I oughta-"

But Roselle shut his mouth as soon as he saw what Bergamo did next. The knee-shaped imprint in Bergamo's stomach started to glow a deep crimson, which soon spread to the rest of his body. With his jowls curled up into a smirk, Bergamo brushed himself off and rose to his feet. A rumbling sound emanated throughout the village as Bergamo's body swelled in size, gaining a half foot in both height and width. By the time the rumbling subsided, he was at Hyssop's eye level.

"Nice shot," he said, smiling down at Basil. "Your turn, Hyssop."

Hyssop shrugged, pulled back his fist and hammered Bergamo in the chest. The glow returned, as did the tremors, and Bergamo added another foot to his height.

"Beautiful!" roared Bergamo, punctuating his cry with a howl of ecstasy. The sized up Bergamo turned to face the rest of the group, leering at them and licking his chops.

"Well? What are you waiting for? Come over here and give me your best shot!"

The other team members complied, rushing over to their leader and taking turns pulverizing his ever-growing body. With every blow, he towered higher and higher over them, and the tremors grew stronger and stronger. By the time Hop had taken the final turn, Bergamo stood at a gargantuan height of fifty feet.

"I believe that will be enough," he boomed, motioning for the group to stop. He then walked over towards Chappil, causing the ground to shake with each step, as the villagers looked on in complete and utter bewilderment.

Without a word, Bergamo bent down, placed himself on his knees, coiled his massive paw around Chappil's body and lifted him up. As expected, the draconic warrior was still fast asleep, as even Bergamo's thundering footsteps failed to stir him.

I hope this works...

Bergamo took a deep breath to ready himself for the task, causing his titanic chest to swell and contract. He then took Chappil, raised him into the air, and started whacking his head against the ground.

"WAKE UP! WAKE UP! WAKE UP!" he bellowed. Everyone in the vicinity cringed, both from the noise of Bergamo's yelling and that of Chappil's head clanging against the ground. After about twenty to thirty whacks, he was interrupted by a deep, irate-sounding baritone voice:

"I'm up! I'm up! Put me down!"

Bergamo stopped himself cold, letting out a sheepish chuckle. "Oh, um, wonderful," was all he could manage to say as he set Chappil back on the ground.

"I trust there's a reason why you so rudely interrupted my sleep," said Chappil, crossing his arms.

"Yes, there is," said Bergamo, as he began to shrink back to normal size. "And I sincerely apologize. But I'm leading an intergalactic team of warriors, set to represent Universe 9 in a multiversal tournament. We've been looking for our tenth member, and we would be honored to have you fill that slot. Would you be so kind?"

Chappil scratched his sizable chin, mulling over Bergamo's request. "Hmm... it clearly means a lot to you, and I there wasn't anything else I planned to do today. Well, except for sleeping, but I think we can forget about that."

He walked forward, grabbed the now normal sized Bergamo by the paw and gave it a shake. "You've got yourself a teammate."

Bergamo grinned, patting the new recruit on the shoulder. "I promise we'll make it up to you when all of this is over," he said. "I'm not sure how, but-"

"Greetings, Trio."

Bergamo was cut off by the sound of an all-too-familiar voice from a few yards away. He and the group whipped around and saw, to their shock, the angel Mojito standing in the middle of the village, with Sidra by his side. As it happened, Bergamo had created such a spectacle and caused such a din that he and the rest of the team failed to notice the arrival of the two deities.

"M-M-Mojito!" stammered Bergamo, as he and the rest of the group fell to their knees and bowed. "I... what a pleasant sur-"

"It appears that your four hours are up," said Mojito, staring obliquely at his timepiece. "But I'm impressed. It seems that you've assembled quite the entourage in that time."

He then pointed at each warrior in rapid succession, counting them off to himself. "Seven, eight, nine... ten. Ten warriors."

Mojito and Sidra smiled warmly at the ten of them, and motioned for them to rise. "I'm very proud of you three," said Sidra. "I wasn't so sure that you could pull this mission off, and I couldn't be happier that you proved me wrong."

Mojito rammed his staff into the ground, and a circle of light expanded outward from the point of impact. "Come," he said. "We can't afford to wait a second longer. You know how much the Omni-King hates to be kept waiting."

All of the warriors scurried into the circle - with the exception of Roselle, who just stood there with a vacant stare. He was snapped out of his daze when Comfrey whistled for him to come hither.

"Wait, I'm coming too?!" cried Roselle. "I thought I was just- MMMPH!"

Lavenda dashed over, clamped a paw over Roselle's mouth and dragged him into the circle. "Don't mind him," he said to Mojito, glaring at the creature. Mojito responded with a simple shrug and a smirk, and sent the ten of them rocketing into space.

And so, after a chaotic, dense four hours, the Trio de Dangers assembled a proud team of diverse, competent, passionate warriors.

The Wily Sorrel.

The Wise Oregano.

The Hulking Hyssop.

The Shrewd Comfrey.

The Helpful Roselle.

The Sadistic Hop.

And the Immovable Chappil.

With their powers combined, they would undoubtedly play a major role in the Tournament of Power and last a great deal of time...

...or, rather, they would have, if they hadn't decided, in their infinite wisdom, to home in on the strongest team in the arena at the very beginning of the tournament. This, predictably, did not end well for them, and their entire universe was erased from existence in the first few minutes. Furthermore, the Trio de Dangers had neglected to tell any of their recruits that the universe was at stake; the hapless warriors barely had time to cry, "Wait, what?!" before they were wiped from the plane of existence.

Fortunately, the last surviving fighter of the tournament, Android #17 of Universe 7, was granted one wish from Super Shenron as a prize, and he was generous enough to use it to bring every other universe back into reality. As relieved as they were, the Trio de Dangers, Sidra and Mojito would have an awful lot of explaining to do to the rest of the team once they returned to Planet Parika.

But that's another story for another time.

The End