Re: Petty Squabble [ROUND 1] [Fort Ayers, New Atlantis]
08-30-2011, 11:38 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by TimeothyHour.
Doctor Mark Thomas wondered where the hell Fritz was.
Of course, it wasn’t the first or second thing on his mind at the time. It was more like the fifth or sixth, and was kind of overshadowed by the first two thoughts, which consisted of “HOLY SHIT MORE ROBOTS APPARENTLY JUST LAUNCHED THEMSELVES OUT OF THE BASE,” followed by “HOLY SHIT THE ORIGINAL ROBOTS ARE STILL RAMPAGING FUCK WHAT DO WE DO.” These were both phrases he screamed at his staff of technicians, who were frantically trying to figure out how to actually solve the problem.
The current rushed prototype they had whipped up in the span of ten minutes was basically a backpack-mounted long-range artillery gun. With a single shot from close range, it could take down those giant robots, and worked pretty well for an artillery-backpack. The big problem they were running into was that it was heavy. Really heavy. That, and firing it had a high likelihood of breaking your spine. Artillery wasn’t really supposed to be shot from a backpack.
And that kept Dr. Thomas yelling. “GET THAT ARTILLERY PACK FUCKING SMALLER AND EASIER TO USE, OR ELSE I’LL GET ONE OF YOU TO FIRE THE FIRST SHOT. JUST LIKE FRITZ, SO GET YOUR ASSES MOVING OR YOU MIGHT NOT EVEN HAVE ONE AFTER-”
Suddenly, at that moment, a gameshow-host robot carrying a dying scientist kicked the lab doors in.
An awkward silence settled over the entire lab as their attention was drawn towards Six. He stood there, perfectly straight, like some surreal statue, fearfully and carefully observed by the technicians around the room.
The robot finally broke the quiet tension.
“Question 20: Could you please direct me to the nearest medical facility?”
It got even quieter, as if all the air had been sucked out of the laboratory. No one replied, all for different reasons. Some were afraid. Some didn’t know how to respond. And some just refused to answer the evil robot scum.
“Failure to comply will result in elimination. I repeat, failure to comply will result in elimination.”
Continued silence.
“This is your third and final warning. Please direct me to the nearest medical facility, or suffer the consequences.”
One of the technicians sort of snapped out of it, stammering out a nervous reply.
“Well, um, we have a medical facility right here, but I don’t know if it will be able to treat those wounds.”
Six’s robot eye inquisitively directed itself towards the speaker, before suddenly nodding saying “Thank you. I will, however, most likely use these facilities.”
The robot walked towards the nearest table, which happened to contain the backpack-artillery, and swept it all aside, loudly crashing to the ground.
“Hey!” Someone said. “We were working on that.”
“This contestant’s life,” Six said while placing Fritz onto the table. “Is more important to the continued existence of the show than whatever asinine technologies you have been assigned to build. Question 21: Could you please retrieve an item with which I could decrease blood loss?”
Someone complied, and then Six got right into operating on the half-dead scientist.
Doctor Mark Thomas wondered where the hell Fritz was.
Of course, it wasn’t the first or second thing on his mind at the time. It was more like the fifth or sixth, and was kind of overshadowed by the first two thoughts, which consisted of “HOLY SHIT MORE ROBOTS APPARENTLY JUST LAUNCHED THEMSELVES OUT OF THE BASE,” followed by “HOLY SHIT THE ORIGINAL ROBOTS ARE STILL RAMPAGING FUCK WHAT DO WE DO.” These were both phrases he screamed at his staff of technicians, who were frantically trying to figure out how to actually solve the problem.
The current rushed prototype they had whipped up in the span of ten minutes was basically a backpack-mounted long-range artillery gun. With a single shot from close range, it could take down those giant robots, and worked pretty well for an artillery-backpack. The big problem they were running into was that it was heavy. Really heavy. That, and firing it had a high likelihood of breaking your spine. Artillery wasn’t really supposed to be shot from a backpack.
And that kept Dr. Thomas yelling. “GET THAT ARTILLERY PACK FUCKING SMALLER AND EASIER TO USE, OR ELSE I’LL GET ONE OF YOU TO FIRE THE FIRST SHOT. JUST LIKE FRITZ, SO GET YOUR ASSES MOVING OR YOU MIGHT NOT EVEN HAVE ONE AFTER-”
Suddenly, at that moment, a gameshow-host robot carrying a dying scientist kicked the lab doors in.
An awkward silence settled over the entire lab as their attention was drawn towards Six. He stood there, perfectly straight, like some surreal statue, fearfully and carefully observed by the technicians around the room.
The robot finally broke the quiet tension.
“Question 20: Could you please direct me to the nearest medical facility?”
It got even quieter, as if all the air had been sucked out of the laboratory. No one replied, all for different reasons. Some were afraid. Some didn’t know how to respond. And some just refused to answer the evil robot scum.
“Failure to comply will result in elimination. I repeat, failure to comply will result in elimination.”
Continued silence.
“This is your third and final warning. Please direct me to the nearest medical facility, or suffer the consequences.”
One of the technicians sort of snapped out of it, stammering out a nervous reply.
“Well, um, we have a medical facility right here, but I don’t know if it will be able to treat those wounds.”
Six’s robot eye inquisitively directed itself towards the speaker, before suddenly nodding saying “Thank you. I will, however, most likely use these facilities.”
The robot walked towards the nearest table, which happened to contain the backpack-artillery, and swept it all aside, loudly crashing to the ground.
“Hey!” Someone said. “We were working on that.”
“This contestant’s life,” Six said while placing Fritz onto the table. “Is more important to the continued existence of the show than whatever asinine technologies you have been assigned to build. Question 21: Could you please retrieve an item with which I could decrease blood loss?”
Someone complied, and then Six got right into operating on the half-dead scientist.