Seinfeld Kombat


In preparation for Mortal Kombat 1, I wrote a Seinfeld episode script where Raiden shows up and chooses Jerry and the gang as Earthrealm’s champions.


Jerry’s pouring cereal, George is inspecting a sandwich, and Elaine’s looking at herself in a mirror, adjusting her hair.

ELAINE: “Do you think I could pull off a pixie cut?”

JERRY: “You’d look like Peter Pan’s stunt double.”

A sudden, loud thunderclap. Lord Raiden appears amidst a spark of lightning.

GEORGE: (dropping his sandwich) “Who’s the guy with the lightning show?”

RAIDEN: “I am Lord Raiden, Protector of Earthrealm.”

JERRY: “Well, welcome to my realm. It’s rent-controlled.”

RAIDEN: “You three have been chosen to protect Earthrealm in Mortal Kombat.”

ELAINE: “Mortal… Kombat? Is that like a themed workout class?”

GEORGE: “There’s some mistake. I’m not even trusted to protect my own sandwich.”

JERRY: “And I don’t participate in anything that requires physical exertion.”

RAIDEN: “Your everyday bickering, your constant maneuvering through life’s minor inconveniences, your ability to withstand the absurdity of your own existence… these have prepared you.”

GEORGE: “So complaining is… a skill?”

ELAINE: “I knew it!”

RAIDEN: “There’s an energy within each of you. Elaine, your audacity. Jerry, your observational prowess. George, your… unique way of seeing the world.”

GEORGE: “Wait, what’s my power?”

RAIDEN: “You… confuse your enemies.”

Kramer slides in.

KRAMER: “Hey, what’s with the blackout?”

RAIDEN: “Ah, the fourth champion!”

KRAMER: “I knew it! I’ve always said I’m destined for greatness.”

JERRY: “So, we’re supposed to fight? With punches and kicks?”

RAIDEN: “You’ll be trained. You have hidden strengths.”

ELAINE: “I once lifted a couch to get a shoe.”

GEORGE: “I’ve survived countless awkward encounters.”

KRAMER: “I’ve got… flexibility!” (Kramer does an exaggerated high kick knocking over a lamp.)

JERRY: “We’ll be the most… unconventional team you’ve got.”

RAIDEN: “That’s what Earthrealm needs. Unconventional champions for an unconventional threat.”

JERRY: “Well, when do we start?”

RAIDEN: “Now.”

With another flash, the apartment transforms into a dojo.

GEORGE: “I want my sandwich back.”

JERRY: “Welcome to Mortal Kombat, George.”


The gang, standing with Raiden, looks in awe at the massive, ominous ship anchored at the docks. The ship seems alive, pulsating with an eerie glow. The name on its side: “Shang Tsung’s Cruises”.

GEORGE: “A ship? I get seasick. I should’ve brought my anti-nausea bands.”

ELAINE: “You mean those ridiculous wristbands? They’re just a placebo.”

GEORGE: “Placebo or not, they’re fashionable.”

RAIDEN: “This ship will take us to Outworld.”

JERRY: “Outworld? Do they have inflight entertainment?”

RAIDEN: “It’s not a flight. And you won’t need entertainment.”

Suddenly, the ship’s plank lowers, revealing various intimidating warriors from across realms, from four-armed creatures to ninjas emitting cold mists.

KRAMER: (gazing at Sub-Zero) “That guy’s got a built-in air conditioner. I’ve been trying to invent that for years!”

As they walk up the plank, George lags behind, looking increasingly nauseous.

ELAINE: “Come on, George. It’s just a ship.”

GEORGE: “That’s easy for you to say. Your stomach isn’t plotting a mutiny.”


Inside, the ship is even more mysterious. Torches light the area, and the walls are adorned with ancient inscriptions. Fighters are practicing, some sparring, others meditating.

JERRY: “This looks like that gym downtown where they don’t allow sneakers.”

A booming voice fills the room. SHANG TSUNG emerges.

SHANG TSUNG: “Welcome, kombatants, to the journey of a lifetime. Or for some of you… the end of it.”

KRAMER: (whispering) “I like his energy. Very motivational.”

ELAINE: (eyeing a particularly muscular fighter) “I wonder if they offer personal training sessions.”

RAIDEN: “Remember, do not engage unless I say so.”

GEORGE: “No problem there.”

Suddenly, a fighter, BARAKA, with long sharp blades emerging from his arms, approaches them.

BARAKA: “Fresh meat! Are you the champions of Earthrealm?”

JERRY: “Well, ‘champions’ is a strong word. Maybe ‘participants’?”

KRAMER, attempting to mingle, offers Baraka a Cuban cigar.

KRAMER: “A peace offering, my spiky friend?”

BARAKA sniffs it, then, intrigued, nods in appreciation.

BARAKA: “Interesting. I’ll spare you… for now.”

ELAINE: (whispering) “That’s it. We bribe our way through this.”

As the ship sails, the atmosphere grows tense. The gang sticks together, trying to blend in, with George’s stomach grumbling louder than the ship’s engine.

SHANG TSUNG: “Rest now, warriors. Tomorrow, Kombat begins.”

JERRY: “Great. First thing in the morning? I’m really more of an afternoon fighter.”

RAIDEN: “Stay vigilant. And remember, you have each other.”

GEORGE: “I have a bad feeling about this.”

ELAINE: “When do you not?”

KRAMER: “I’ve got a plan. I heard there’s a hot tub on deck. We loosen up, get to know some fighters, form alliances.”

JERRY: “Your plan is a hot tub party?”

KRAMER: “Jerry, it’s all about networking!”

As the ship sails towards Outworld, the gang realizes that this might be their most bizarre adventure yet.


The hall is decorated lavishly. Long tables laden with exotic and intimidating foods. Creatures of all shapes and sizes are seated, talking amongst themselves. There’s a mix of tension and excitement in the air.

JERRY: “This feels like one of those weddings where you don’t know anyone and you’re not sure if you should’ve RSVP’d ‘no’.”

ELAINE: “Look at that food! Is that… a three-headed chicken?”

KRAMER: “Delicacy in some realms. Very tender.”

A gong sounds, and SHANG TSUNG stands at the head of the table.

SHANG TSUNG: “Welcome, champions! Tonight, we feast. Tomorrow, we fight!”

RAIDEN: (whispering to the gang) “Remember, every warrior here has a strength and a weakness. Learn and observe.”

GEORGE, looking nervously around: “Why do I have a feeling my ‘strength’ is also my weakness?”

KRAMER: “Just be yourself, buddy.”

GEORGE: “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

As the feast continues, various fighters are introduced. They each display a short demonstration of their skills. Flames, ice blasts, and acrobatic feats dazzle the attendees.

Finally, a stunning and poised warrior, KITANA, steps forward, her steel fans gleaming.

ELAINE: (whispering) “Wow, she’s gorgeous. And she’s got accessories that can kill. I need that in my life.”

GEORGE: (choking on his drink) “I hope I don’t have to fight her.”

SHANG TSUNG: “And tomorrow’s first match: George of Earthrealm versus Kitana, the Princess of Edenia!”

GEORGE: “Of course. Just my luck.”

JERRY: “Maybe she’s got a soft spot for… whatever you’ve got going on.”


Fighters and spectators have gathered. A circular stage is set in the middle. George stands there, looking completely out of place, his glasses fogging up from nervousness. Kitana stands opposite, poised and calm.


KITANA advances with a series of graceful, deadly attacks. George is barely dodging, mostly by tripping over his own feet. The crowd is in awe of her skill and George’s… unpredictability.

At one point, George’s shoe comes off. He tries to put it back on, bending down. Kitana throws her fan, aiming for his head, but because he’s bent down, it misses him entirely, ricocheting and disarming one of her other weapons.

GEORGE (panicking): “Time out! Shoe emergency!”

KITANA, slightly thrown off by his erratic behavior, hesitates for a moment. George, still focused on his shoe, doesn’t realize he’s standing on her long, flowing sash. As Kitana leaps to deliver a powerful move, her sash yanks her back, causing her to stumble.

Seeing an opening, George does the only thing he knows: He charges, arms flailing. Kitana, surprised, tries to dodge, but George trips, knocking into her and causing them both to fall off the stage.

The arena is silent.

RAIDEN, sensing an opportunity: “The platform… It’s a ring-out victory for George!”

SHANG TSUNG, begrudgingly: “Winner: George of Earthrealm.”

The crowd is in shock. Some are laughing, others in disbelief.

JERRY: “And they said you were unathletic.”

ELAINE: “That was… unconventional.”

KRAMER: “That’s our George!”

GEORGE, panting heavily: “I… I won?”

RAIDEN: “Indeed. Remember, every warrior has a strength.”

GEORGE: “And mine is… clumsiness?”

RAIDEN: “Among other things.”

As the crowd disperses, George, still in shock, is hoisted up by the gang, the unlikely champion of the day.


The atmosphere at dinner has shifted. After George’s unexpected victory, some fighters are wary of the Earthrealm team, while others are outright amused. The gang sits together, a mixture of confidence and anxiety among them.

JERRY: “I’ve got to hand it to you, George. You’ve set the bar pretty high… or low. I can’t quite decide.”

ELAINE: “I’m just hoping we keep getting lucky.”

GEORGE: “Yeah, ‘lucky’. Let’s go with that.”

KRAMER, shoveling an unknown meat into his mouth: “This is delicious! Tastes like chicken. Or dragon. Can’t really tell.”

SHANG TSUNG stands, signaling for silence.

SHANG TSUNG: “Tomorrow’s highlight: Kramer of Earthrealm versus… Scorpion!”

The hall goes quiet. The whispers indicate that Scorpion is not one to be taken lightly.

ELAINE: “Scorpion? That sounds… dangerous.”

JERRY: “Let’s hope he’s allergic to eccentricity.”

KRAMER, ever the optimist: “Don’t worry, I’ve got a plan!”

GEORGE: “Does it involve falling over?”

KRAMER: “Oh, George, always the comedian!”


The arena is buzzing. SCORPION, a menacing figure in yellow and black, eyes aflame, stands on one side. Kramer, hair wilder than usual, stands on the other, looking curiously at Scorpion.


Scorpion launches into his signature move, sending his chain flying with a shout of “Get over here!” But Kramer, ever the social butterfly, sidesteps it and responds, “No, YOU come here!”

KRAMER: “Have you ever tried the food on this ship? What was that, dragon? Three-headed chicken? Either way, delightful!”

SCORPION, taken aback: “What?”

KRAMER, getting into Scorpion’s personal space: “You know, you seem tense. All that fire and anger. You need to relax!”

Scorpion makes another move, but Kramer dodges, pulling out one of his Cuban cigars.

KRAMER: “Here, try one of these! Nothing like a good Cuban to take the edge off.”

SCORPION hesitates, then snatches the cigar. “This better not be a trick.”

KRAMER: “No tricks, just quality tobacco.”

Scorpion, confused by the sudden camaraderie, takes a drag from the cigar, exhaling a mixture of smoke and fire.

KRAMER: “Now, doesn’t that feel better?”

SCORPION: “…It’s not bad.”

KRAMER, taking advantage of the situation, pats Scorpion on the back. “That’s the spirit! You and I, we’re not so different.”

The crowd is dumbfounded. Instead of a fight, they’re witnessing… a bonding session?

RAIDEN, recognizing another unconventional win: “Verbal victory to Kramer!”

SHANG TSUNG, visibly irritated: “This is not how Kombat is conducted! This is a mockery!”

KRAMER, stepping forward with Scorpion still beside him: “Well, my friend here seems to have had a change of heart. Isn’t that right, Scorpio?”

SCORPION, exhaling a mixture of cigar smoke and fire: “…We did not fight, but I have no interest in harming this man now.”

JERRY, shouting from the sidelines: “It’s a pacifist victory!”

RAIDEN: “Mortal Kombat is not just about physical prowess but mental and emotional strength. Kramer managed to change the heart of his opponent. That is a win in its own right.”

SHANG TSUNG, grumbling: “Very well. Winner: Kramer of Earthrealm. But let this not become a trend.”

ELAINE: “Never underestimate the power of small talk.”

GEORGE: “If only all my problems could be solved with cigars.”

Kramer, arm in arm with a still slightly bewildered Scorpion, returns to the gang, his unconventional method having turned the tide in their favor once again.


The grand hall is once again alive with chatter, the atmosphere electric after the recent unexpected outcomes. Fighters, sorcerers, and various denizens of Outworld mingle and feast.

SHANG TSUNG rises, his voice echoing in the hall: “Champions! Tonight, I introduce to you my prize warrior, the unstoppable… KINTARO!”

The crowd parts as KINTARO, a massive four-armed Shokan, steps forward. He’s a fearsome sight, muscles bulging and face marked by fierce determination.

ELAINE, whispering: “Whoa. That’s… a lot of muscle.”

GEORGE: “And a lot of arms.”

KRAMER, intrigued: “He must be great at multitasking.”

SHANG TSUNG, smugly: “Raiden, introduce your champion to face Kintaro tomorrow!”

RAIDEN, sighing and looking slightly embarrassed: “Jerry… of Earthrealm.”

The hall erupts in laughter. JERRY, bewildered, steps forward.

JERRY: “Yeah, that’s right. Jerry of Earthrealm. Anybody here from Earthrealm?”

A few scattered, awkward claps.

JERRY: “So, what’s the deal with inter-dimensional tournaments? I mean, you’ve got people with four arms, people on fire, and I can’t even get a decent cup of coffee in this place!”

KINTARO, not understanding humor, looks confused.

JERRY, pointing to Kintaro: “You, for instance. Four arms. Is the gym membership twice as expensive?”

The crowd, warming up to Jerry’s humor, chuckles.

JERRY: “And don’t get me started on the food. I had something the other day, and I’m not sure if it was chicken or a small dragon. Either way, gave me indigestion!”

KINTARO, trying to understand, looks at his own plate of food and back to Jerry.

JERRY, wrapping up: “But in all seriousness, we’re all here to fight, to compete. But maybe, just maybe, we can find a little humor along the way. Because if we can’t laugh at ourselves, then what’s the point, right?”

The hall is silent for a moment and then breaks into appreciative applause. Even Kintaro, still trying to understand the concept of humor, claps with two of his four hands.

RAIDEN, with a smirk: “Jerry, ladies, and gentlemen.”

SHANG TSUNG, begrudgingly: “Enjoy your feast tonight, champions. Tomorrow, the real entertainment begins.”

As the feast continues, the gang regroups, and Jerry is greeted with mixed reactions of admiration and disbelief for turning the introduction into an impromptu stand-up session.


The sun’s rays pierce through the arena’s open ceiling, revealing a charged crowd ready for the day’s match. REPTILE, a creature with green, scaly skin and glowing eyes, stands in a fighting stance, tongue flicking in and out, tasting the air.

Across from him, ELAINE stands, adjusting her shoes and glancing around nervously.

GEORGE, from the sidelines: “Elaine, just do the dance!”

ELAINE, hissing back: “Not now, George!”

JERRY: “Actually, it might be a good distraction.”


Reptile lunges with blinding speed. Elaine, caught off guard, panics and starts to flail in her typical dance style, kicks out wildly, arms jerking.

REPTILE, visibly confused and perhaps even slightly repelled, slows down, trying to figure out how to approach this erratic human.

JERRY, whispering to RAIDEN: “I’ve always said, it’s a dance that’s mesmerizing in its awfulness.”

RAIDEN, nodding: “Indeed. It’s like… she’s short-circuiting.”

Elaine, sensing an opening, decides to go full throttle. She starts “dancing” even more vigorously, moving closer to Reptile, who’s trying to evade her wild limbs.

Suddenly, Elaine’s shoe goes flying off from a particularly aggressive kick, smacking Reptile right in the face. Reptile, stunned and disoriented from the unexpected assault, falls to the ground.

ELAINE, panting and in disbelief: “Was that… did I win?”

SHANG TSUNG, begrudgingly and clearly annoyed by the turn of events: “Winner: Elaine of Earthrealm.”

KRAMER, rushing to her side: “That was pure poetry in motion!”

GEORGE: “The deadliest dance I’ve ever seen.”

JERRY: “The dance finally found its purpose.”

Elaine, shoe in hand and still catching her breath, walks back to the group. The crowd is in shock, yet again faced with the unpredictability of the Earthrealm team.

RAIDEN, with a hint of a smirk: “Well done, Elaine. I knew you had a… unique strategy up your sleeve.”


The grand hall is filled with the sound of chatter and laughter. The Earthrealm team’s victories are the talk of the ship. They sit at their table, recounting the day’s events, when suddenly, the lights dim.

A loud, powerful horn sounds, silencing the room. The temperature drops noticeably. From the entrance, surrounded by a dark aura and accompanied by the rhythmic thud of his Warhammer on the ground, enters SHAO KAHN, the Emperor of Outworld.

KRAMER, eyes wide: “Well, that’s quite an entrance.”

ELAINE, whispering: “Who’s that?”

JERRY, his face paler than usual: “I’ve got a feeling he’s not here for the food.”

SHAO KAHN, voice booming: “Shang Tsung! I have heard of your incompetence. Is it true that these… fools are besting your champions?”

SHANG TSUNG, bowing his head in deference and fear: “Emperor Shao Kahn, they have been… unconventional.”

GEORGE, leaning to Elaine: “I think ‘unconventional’ is becoming our thing.”

SHAO KAHN, turning his gaze to the Seinfeld gang: “You. Earthrealmers. I have conquered realms, crushed champions, and yet I hear that you jest, dance, and chat your way to victory?”

RAIDEN, stepping forward: “They may not be the champions you’re used to, Emperor, but they have earned their victories.”

SHAO KAHN, with a sneer: “I will not have Mortal Kombat turned into a mockery. Tomorrow, I will personally oversee the matches. And if you, Earthrealmers, continue with your farce, I will step into the ring myself.”

ELAINE, audibly gulping: “Oh boy.”

JERRY: “Suddenly, I have a strong urge to actually train.”

KRAMER, ever the optimist: “Maybe he just needs a good cigar.”

SHAO KAHN, without waiting for a response, turns and leaves as abruptly as he arrived, leaving a palpable tension in the room.

GEORGE, trying to lighten the mood: “Well, I guess it’s a good thing we didn’t get the soup tonight.”

RAIDEN, looking more serious than ever: “Be cautious. Shao Kahn is not one to be trifled with. Tomorrow will be our greatest test yet.”

The group nods, the weight of the situation settling in. The evening continues, but the previous levity is gone, replaced by anticipation and unease.


The sun illuminates the arena, revealing a crowd teeming with anticipation. SHAO KAHN’s presence has elevated the stakes, and everyone is on edge. BARAKA, with his sharp Tarkatan blades extended, is already in the ring, pacing impatiently.

JERRY, taking a deep breath and adjusting his microphone, steps into the ring.

JERRY: “Hey there, Baraka! Nice knives you got there. You ever consider opening a deli?”

The crowd is silent, but a few chuckles break through.

BARAKA, growling: “This is no time for jokes, Earthrealmer.”

JERRY, undeterred: “So, you Tarkatans… You ever accidentally cut yourself while flossing?”

More laughter. Baraka, clearly agitated, lunges at Jerry. Jerry quickly dodges, continuing his stand-up routine.

JERRY: “What’s the deal with inter-dimensional fashion? I mean, metal shoulder pads, loincloths, and… are those teeth in your arms?”

BARAKA, snarling: “Enough!”

As they continue dodging and weaving, it’s clear Jerry’s tactic is to keep Baraka off balance with humor.

Suddenly, a booming voice interrupts the fight.

SHAO KAHN: “Enough of this nonsense!”

The emperor steps into the ring, his massive warhammer in hand.

JERRY, sweating: “Ah, Shao Kahn. The big cheese. You ever feel like that helmet gives you a blind spot?”

Ignoring him, SHAO KAHN roars: “I will end this mockery now!”

As he’s about to strike, KRAMER, seeing his friend in danger and wanting to help, races towards a nearby table filled with refreshments. He grabs a large jug of water, hoping to splash and distract Shao Kahn.

However, Kramer being Kramer, he trips just as he’s about to throw the water, sending the entire jug flying directly at Shao Kahn. The water drenches the emperor, causing him to slip and drop his warhammer, which lands on his foot. He yells out in pain, hopping around the ring.

The crowd, in shock, watches as JERRY, seeing an opening, taps SHAO KAHN on the shoulder. As the emperor turns, Jerry delivers a light slap to his face, causing Shao Kahn to lose his balance and tumble out of the ring.

The arena erupts in disbelief and amazement.

SHANG TSUNG, eyes wide: “This cannot be happening.”

RAIDEN, chuckling: “Winner: Jerry of Earthrealm.”

JERRY, helping a drenched and embarrassed Kramer up: “That’s teamwork, buddy.”

ELAINE, patting Kramer on the back: “Once again, your impeccable timing saves the day.”

GEORGE: “I think we’ve made our mark in inter-dimensional combat history.”

KRAMER, grinning: “I always knew my clumsiness would come in handy one day.”

SHAO KAHN, from the edge of the ring, still seething with embarrassment and anger: “This isn’t over, Earthrealm!”