...It's a Fire World

[Claptrap]

Claptrap’s quiet robotic snoring reverberated through the ashen fortress, the small robot having fallen asleep on the couch in the common room. 

“CL4P-TP unit batteries and reserve power fully charged.” Chimed the cheerful Hyperion voice, rousing Claptrap with a start. 

“Ah, I'm sorry your potato salad was too salty!” The robot cried as his wheel extended suddenly and flung him from the couch. Claptrap hit the ground with an “Oof.” And realised that he was not in fact making potato salad for an insensitive CL4P-TP owner, depressingly ignorant to the fact that Claptraps have no sense of taste, and thus cannot tell the saltiness of potato salad. 

“Oh, it was just a dream…” Claptrap sighed as he wiped an oil tear from his eye. “I should probably get that leak checked.” The robot rolled onto his back and hefted himself up onto his wheel. Seeing as no one was harassing him for his outburst, Claptrap guessed that he was alone. 

“Hmm… I'm really bored.” Claptrap mumbled to himself. “I should get out and do something.” The robot wheeled over to the bounty board and brought up the current bounties. 

“Ooh, creepy clown! Oh, Shadow is already on it. Luci? Eh, I think I might short-circuit if I look at her too long. King Ghidorah?” Claptrap paused for a moment before chuckling to himself. “Yeah, that’ll go reeeal well. Oh! I've got it!” Suddenly inspired, Claptrap rushed out the door of the fortress before remembering too late that a flight of stairs lead up to the entrance and immediately falling down them. Claptrap picked himself up with a groan but his enthusiasm was unharmed. The robot called upon his omnillium and summoned up a bandit technical.

“This is what power feels like.” Claptrap mused to himself as he hopped in the driver seat, only to remember his inability to reach the pedals. The robot summoned his shotgun and, reaching down, managed to poke the pedal with the muzzle of the gun. Claptrap yelped as the technical shot forward, barely managing to steer the wild vehicle as he made his way towards his destination. 

After a few hours of precarious driving Claptrap arrived at the spot. Hopping from the car, Claptrap observed his surroundings. “Yep. This is the place.” The robot dashed over to a boulder nearby and hauled himself up it, getting a better look at his surroundings. The lava streams, the obsidian hills, the acid rain and, of course, gate was visible from here. 

“Now it begins.” Claptrap muttered. “Yo, it's Claptrap comin’ atcha, robot mad enough to answer Captchas. Say I'm bad at rapping and I'll call you a liar, I come from the steppes because my verses are fire. Ashen blade, I've got it made, got OM comin’ from the sky, look down Claptrap’s barrel and know it's time to die. You know I'm real, made of steel, ain’t got no Achilles heel, Claptrap coming at you so hard you… Uh… Don't even know how to feel…” Claptrap paused for a few seconds. “No, I can do better than that… Uh, come on Clappy…”

From his rocky perch, Claptrap noted the small girl riding the giant, pastel pink spider with vague interest. Although he felt no inclination to approach them, he couldn't help but wonder; “Can I use this in my free styling?”