06-24-2017, 02:40 AM
As the motor of the ancient Buick rattled along the empty streets of Mega City One, the burly Sergeant John Estes felt himself growing increasingly lethargic. He had spent a fair number of hours eating up the stock of Larry's Lard Land Cafe, and could feel a dirty lump of dough sitting at the bottom of the belly. Who knows how long the ingredients to today’s donuts had been left inside some deep freeze before the entire cafe had awoken, seemingly just to hand him some odd prize from the contest’s organizer.
His stomach grumbled as he drove through the endless blocks of the metropolis and began to feel a little sick. “Why the hell did I drink all that nasty beer and eat those old donuts?” he thought to himself. He furrowed his brow and his thick mustache followed suit just above his upper lip. “To be fair, those wee little robots were so happy to finally have a customer. Ya know, I actually kinda feel bad about leaving. They might not get to cook their little donuts for another thousand years,” he considered, almost metaphysically!”
As he continued to put miles on the odometer, he tried to shake loose that weird thought and consider other possibilities. “If the caretaker droids are still operational in this shit-hole, that means there’s gotta be some other ways to entertain myself,” he thought.
“Yo! Tablet!” he called out, trying to access the electronic device’s hands-free voice-activated services.
“HOW MAY I SERVE YOU SERGEANT JOHN ESTES?” the device spoke back mechanically.
“Uhh...search for...” he coughed with embarrassment. “Gemme the nearest listing for robotic pleasure palaces.”
The device replied back monotonically: “FOUR MILES NORTH, TARGET ACQUIRED IN ZONE C21. BUSINESS REGISTERED AS ‘CLANGER’S CLAPTRAP.’”
“Heh, heh!” Mad Bull chuckled as he hit the accelerated a little harder.
His stomach grumbled as he drove through the endless blocks of the metropolis and began to feel a little sick. “Why the hell did I drink all that nasty beer and eat those old donuts?” he thought to himself. He furrowed his brow and his thick mustache followed suit just above his upper lip. “To be fair, those wee little robots were so happy to finally have a customer. Ya know, I actually kinda feel bad about leaving. They might not get to cook their little donuts for another thousand years,” he considered, almost metaphysically!”
As he continued to put miles on the odometer, he tried to shake loose that weird thought and consider other possibilities. “If the caretaker droids are still operational in this shit-hole, that means there’s gotta be some other ways to entertain myself,” he thought.
“Yo! Tablet!” he called out, trying to access the electronic device’s hands-free voice-activated services.
“HOW MAY I SERVE YOU SERGEANT JOHN ESTES?” the device spoke back mechanically.
“Uhh...search for...” he coughed with embarrassment. “Gemme the nearest listing for robotic pleasure palaces.”
The device replied back monotonically: “FOUR MILES NORTH, TARGET ACQUIRED IN ZONE C21. BUSINESS REGISTERED AS ‘CLANGER’S CLAPTRAP.’”
“Heh, heh!” Mad Bull chuckled as he hit the accelerated a little harder.
Quote:Mad Bull moves from C11 to C19