Omniverse News Network - Live Broadcasts

[Proto Man]

“Good evening, Omniverse, I’m Ron Burgundy.

“In the news today, we have an unfortunate end to violence around the Omniverse.” On the screen behind him, they played an audio-devoid clip from the city of Nippur out in the Endless Shithole.

“The city of Nippur has fallen, although we’re not certain the extent of the damages. It appears that while there were many civilian casualties, the town was attacked not by a rival army but by a collection of primes. It is unknown at this time what will become of the city, but rumors indicate that the king has been banished.”

An image of Gilgamesh—a shiny prick that Ron remembered from Dante’s Abyss—popped up alongside an image of Ganondorf—a dark prick that Ron remember from Dante’s Abyss.

“Also among the dead and gone is Ganondorf. It remains to be seen what will happen to both Nippur and the little plot of land that the ger… gerudo? That the gerudo lorded over in a neighboring region of the desert.

“The real winner here, folks?” Ron asked as he took a long sip of scotch. After he set it down, he shrugged his shoulders. “Not sure, you can let us here at ONN know on Twitter, because we know you’ll do that even if we don’t ask you... you teet-suckling attention whores.”

With a soft chuckle that could wobble the thighs of anything with two x chromosomes, Ron Burgundy turned and glanced at a different camera as the images behind him changed once more. “In the Pale Place, that city that no one cares about has apparently killed its mayor or something and opted to be ruled instead by a junta.” Ron’s expression twisted up as he stared at the teleprompter. The anchorman glanced off camera toward the crew working the side cameras. “What is that? A type of fruit? Is it tasty?”

The beardless college-age kid standing behind the camera went white as he glanced around for some sign of help. When nothing came, his response was somewhat meek. “It’s a type of political-military council… usually one that seizes power.”

Ron stared into space for a moment before nodded his head and brushing his moustache. “Ruled by fruits.” He replied before glancing at the camera and reaching for his scotch.

“So in other news,” Ron half-slurred as he stared back at the main camera. “It’s been reported that primes are dropping off the face of the Omniverse and not showing up anywhere. We’re not sure if this is some fancy new banishment or what, but we’ll be the first to know…” The anchorman blinked a few times as he tried to see what was on the screen behind him. When that failed, he craned his neck only to realize that the wall behind him was green fabric. “Has that always been so green?”

Turning back around, Ron rubbed one of his eyes and nodded his head as the teleprompter came back into focus. “Oh, yes, reports tell of primes gathering in the Nexus.” The rest was jumbled together. Ron blinked and gave up. “I’m sure we’ll cover that story even though it won’t involve any orgies.” A look of utter disgust and disappointment spread across the renowned anchorman’s rose-tinted visage as he shook his head. “I’m Ron Burgun… Ron Bur… Fuck it. You all stay classy.”

With that, the light atop the cameras all went red. Somewhere, a group of producers collectively buried their faces into their palms.