RE: The Big Damn Fight- Multiverse's Got Talent!
07-27-2016, 06:23 AM
wub
Blue lights.
wub
Black bass.
wub
Red haze.
wub
He couldn't feel anything.
wub
"...Tri-Pentagram?"
WUB
"Fffuck. The beats. Turn them."
WUB
"Up?"
WUB
"FUCKIN'... For once, no! Down."
wub
Now he was feeling something. It resembled his worst hallucinations, only fed through a shredder then pumped directly into his forehead. He needed his downers. Where the fuck were they? Probably back in his Multitech. Damn. A nervous intern or five were hovering somewhere vaguely above his head.
"Tri-Pentagram? Wait, am I saying that right? Triple Asterisk...? 3☼?"
"...What? It's III☆. The fuck do you want."
"U-uh, um. The... talent thing..."
Oh, that. The thing, yes. What did he say he was going to do? Stage a fight? Ugh. He needed a suitable opponent, some backup dancers, pyrotechnics, his godsdamn drugs. Where was his Multitech? The intern(s) kept mumbling, so Zaiza ignored her/them.
Still on what resembled a ground, he sent out the call to arms. His signal rang out, echoed around his head, made some loop-de-loops. The signal fomed a red Multitech, flying in formation with around 4 others. He giggled. Everything flashed a pale yellow. The Multitechs swarmed around his face, screeching. He tried to swat at them but found that his arms were toxic eels attacking his shoulders. Everything flashed a deep lilac. He was melting away. He could make out his admirers in the distance, flashing obscene gestures at him. His Multitech, a bright yellow among the fuzzy purple, repeated those gestures.
He sighed. This was not a fun hangover. A crash echoed across backstage as the Multitech came out of hiding and soared towards him. It landed and made a dramatic pose, then transformed back into a 4-wheeled form. Weakly, he got up into the cockpit. He felt bad for the intern or five that had to watch this sorry spectacle. But, as soon as he got into the cockpit, his Multitech automatically adjusted his hormonocultural levels. That is to say, he got pumped full of drugs. He could think straight again.
"Damn, that was one hell of a party," he said through his Multitech's augmented speaker system. He took off towards the stage, or at least where he thought it would be. Fuck it, he thought. He'd figure something out. Perhaps a dramatic entry would seal the deal... Huh? There was already something going on.
"These two contestants have struggled through a very tough competition this year, but they've pulled ahead of the rest. Now, they will face off in the finals!"
Suddenly the interns (turns out it really was five of them all along) ran up to Zaiza, breathless.
"I tried to tell you... you missed your auditions. Sorry."
"...Fuck. Well, while we're here... I'll put down 500 credits on Nova. What do you say?"
Blue lights.
wub
Black bass.
wub
Red haze.
wub
He couldn't feel anything.
wub
"...Tri-Pentagram?"
WUB
"Fffuck. The beats. Turn them."
WUB
"Up?"
WUB
"FUCKIN'... For once, no! Down."
wub
Now he was feeling something. It resembled his worst hallucinations, only fed through a shredder then pumped directly into his forehead. He needed his downers. Where the fuck were they? Probably back in his Multitech. Damn. A nervous intern or five were hovering somewhere vaguely above his head.
"Tri-Pentagram? Wait, am I saying that right? Triple Asterisk...? 3☼?"
"...What? It's III☆. The fuck do you want."
"U-uh, um. The... talent thing..."
Oh, that. The thing, yes. What did he say he was going to do? Stage a fight? Ugh. He needed a suitable opponent, some backup dancers, pyrotechnics, his godsdamn drugs. Where was his Multitech? The intern(s) kept mumbling, so Zaiza ignored her/them.
Still on what resembled a ground, he sent out the call to arms. His signal rang out, echoed around his head, made some loop-de-loops. The signal fomed a red Multitech, flying in formation with around 4 others. He giggled. Everything flashed a pale yellow. The Multitechs swarmed around his face, screeching. He tried to swat at them but found that his arms were toxic eels attacking his shoulders. Everything flashed a deep lilac. He was melting away. He could make out his admirers in the distance, flashing obscene gestures at him. His Multitech, a bright yellow among the fuzzy purple, repeated those gestures.
He sighed. This was not a fun hangover. A crash echoed across backstage as the Multitech came out of hiding and soared towards him. It landed and made a dramatic pose, then transformed back into a 4-wheeled form. Weakly, he got up into the cockpit. He felt bad for the intern or five that had to watch this sorry spectacle. But, as soon as he got into the cockpit, his Multitech automatically adjusted his hormonocultural levels. That is to say, he got pumped full of drugs. He could think straight again.
"Damn, that was one hell of a party," he said through his Multitech's augmented speaker system. He took off towards the stage, or at least where he thought it would be. Fuck it, he thought. He'd figure something out. Perhaps a dramatic entry would seal the deal... Huh? There was already something going on.
"These two contestants have struggled through a very tough competition this year, but they've pulled ahead of the rest. Now, they will face off in the finals!"
Suddenly the interns (turns out it really was five of them all along) ran up to Zaiza, breathless.
"I tried to tell you... you missed your auditions. Sorry."
"...Fuck. Well, while we're here... I'll put down 500 credits on Nova. What do you say?"
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