Post by 404zilla on Aug 24, 2018 15:08:38 GMT -5
The camera is focused on what appears to be a canister full of-
KABOOM!
-explosives OMG LET ME FINISH. Anyways, 404 walks into frame, holding a detonator in his hand. As always, his face is painted gray and his grin is absolutely shit-eating. His t-shirt has a picture of a Gundam on it.
404: "Well bite my nuts off and call me a hand grenade if ol' 404 didn't get challenged by the secret love child of Jeff Bezos and Nathan Gust! This definitely calls for the ol' Michael Bay treatment!"
He flicks a second switch and-
KABOOM!
-debris flies in from the left and right sides of the camera. The view shakes a bit and 404 gets dust and junk in his hair and clothes. He chuckles a few times, then sneezes, releasing a big cloud of dirt that he waves away.
404: "So excited - SO excited - to be the very first name you thought of when thinking of opponents! I mean, I'm actually a little amazed, y'know, because my name is actually a computer code for "this thing can't be found", so I suspect you had some human help in finding me, but y'know what? When so-called hardcore champions in this place are developing a blind spot for cocky little noisemakers like me, hey... I ain't too good to tussle with a toaster, knowhutimean?"
Wink. Half-smile. 404 tosses the detonator to the ground and puts his hands on his hips.
404: "OK, SO... Wrestlebot 5000... The world's first wrestling robot, as long as we pretend Boardwalk Wrestling's Robot Pete never existed... Now, please, don't get too upset with me, but I haven't met too many robots in my life, or I dunno, "Android-Americans" or "People Of Silicon" or whatever the polite term is I'm supposed to be using to keep Twitter from collectively invading my ass like it's a Build-A-Gender Workshop, so I'm gonna ask you a few questions. Or, uh, queries? I think I heard somewhere that you robosexual types prefer the term 'queries'. I dunno. That could be my first query-question, I guess. Do you prefer queries?"
Silence. 404 purses his lips, hooks his chin, and looks to the sky.
404: "Oooooh yeeeeeah, this is being recorded, not streamed, so even if Wrestlebot has wifi, he won't see it til after I upload it. OK then, guess I'll just have to ask all my questions, ALL at once, and again, Tumblr-Tots, keep your tweets to yourself, I'm just asking questions, okay? Oooookay."
He puts his right hand up and his left fist to his mouth, clearing his throat.
404: "Next question... Do you dream of electric sheep? I know, weird question, but I got kind of a bet going with Philip K. Dick. Sorry if that question seemed a little out of left field, I just felt like being the first person to make a "dick joke" that half the SFT roster wouldn't get. Actually, I kinda wanna know what a robot dreams about. What counts as "ambitions" to an animatronic ass-kicker, I wonder? Because whatever it is, it HAS to be more interesting than Cypher's."
Laugh, sigh, shake head. He scratches the back of his neck and looks at the camera.
404: "5-K... Can I call you 5-K? Whatever, I'm gonna anyways. 5-K... If you're looking to study human emotions because, I dunno, you wanna understand this sensation we humans call butthurt... Then focus those sensors on Louis Cypher. And then show me the analysis, because DAMN I wanna know how it is scientifically possible to be both self-loathing and a narcissist. HOW CAN THIS BE?! THESE ARE OPPOSITES! DOES! NOT! COMPUTE! Loupy Sideshow over here gettin' all deep in his purple prose and bruised fee-fees because SFT forced him to take a hardcore title he didn't want, but then also he wants the hardcore title so bad that he'll bury it like pirate doubloons, in a special place where only he and his hearty crew of scurvy lawyers will ever find it, and I dunno. Help me sort this shit out. Hopefully you aren't one of those robots that gets blown up by paradoxes."
Facial cringe, followed by grinning. Even a little chuckle. Oh we do have fun, don't we.
404: "Okay! NEXT question... Do you feel anything when someone tells you that you have to be in a wrestling match? I mean, I heard your challenge, and technically I had a choice whether or not to accept your challenge, but DUH, of course I'm gonna wrestle a robot, my inner child is high-fiving the SHIT out of me for getting that opportunity, so I felt happy about it. And Louis Cypher, well, he feels sad. His entire career is apparently just him doing what people ask him to do and being miserable about it. But what do you feel? I mean, besides little surges of electricity or radiator fluid, or I dunno, whatever Stark Industries hocus-pocus passes for a nervous system in that efficient li'l chassis of yours."
Ugh, is he... is he flirting with the robot? Ew, dude. Oh, never mind, he's just clowning.
404: "Last question, and I promise I won't shoehorn Cypher's bitter weak worthless sad-sack useless ass into it... Exactly how hard would I have to kick you to knock off a chunk of the AllSpark? Because I gotta be honest, I think it'd be pretty rad to turn my slow-cooker into a pet. If your protocols don't let you disclose the answer, well, hey, we'll just have fun learning that answer together, through some hands-on research. In case it isn't clear, I gladly accept your challenge. Oh man, this is gonna rule!"
He closes his eyes and inhales, big grin on his face. He thrusts his hands out towards his sides like a jubilant five-year-old.
404: "MY HIGH SCHOOL GUIDANCE COUNSELOR WAS WRONG - I TOTALLY CAN GET A JOB PUNCHING ROBOTS!!!"
KABOOM!
Cut to black.
KABOOM!
-explosives OMG LET ME FINISH. Anyways, 404 walks into frame, holding a detonator in his hand. As always, his face is painted gray and his grin is absolutely shit-eating. His t-shirt has a picture of a Gundam on it.
404: "Well bite my nuts off and call me a hand grenade if ol' 404 didn't get challenged by the secret love child of Jeff Bezos and Nathan Gust! This definitely calls for the ol' Michael Bay treatment!"
He flicks a second switch and-
KABOOM!
-debris flies in from the left and right sides of the camera. The view shakes a bit and 404 gets dust and junk in his hair and clothes. He chuckles a few times, then sneezes, releasing a big cloud of dirt that he waves away.
404: "So excited - SO excited - to be the very first name you thought of when thinking of opponents! I mean, I'm actually a little amazed, y'know, because my name is actually a computer code for "this thing can't be found", so I suspect you had some human help in finding me, but y'know what? When so-called hardcore champions in this place are developing a blind spot for cocky little noisemakers like me, hey... I ain't too good to tussle with a toaster, knowhutimean?"
Wink. Half-smile. 404 tosses the detonator to the ground and puts his hands on his hips.
404: "OK, SO... Wrestlebot 5000... The world's first wrestling robot, as long as we pretend Boardwalk Wrestling's Robot Pete never existed... Now, please, don't get too upset with me, but I haven't met too many robots in my life, or I dunno, "Android-Americans" or "People Of Silicon" or whatever the polite term is I'm supposed to be using to keep Twitter from collectively invading my ass like it's a Build-A-Gender Workshop, so I'm gonna ask you a few questions. Or, uh, queries? I think I heard somewhere that you robosexual types prefer the term 'queries'. I dunno. That could be my first query-question, I guess. Do you prefer queries?"
Silence. 404 purses his lips, hooks his chin, and looks to the sky.
404: "Oooooh yeeeeeah, this is being recorded, not streamed, so even if Wrestlebot has wifi, he won't see it til after I upload it. OK then, guess I'll just have to ask all my questions, ALL at once, and again, Tumblr-Tots, keep your tweets to yourself, I'm just asking questions, okay? Oooookay."
He puts his right hand up and his left fist to his mouth, clearing his throat.
404: "Next question... Do you dream of electric sheep? I know, weird question, but I got kind of a bet going with Philip K. Dick. Sorry if that question seemed a little out of left field, I just felt like being the first person to make a "dick joke" that half the SFT roster wouldn't get. Actually, I kinda wanna know what a robot dreams about. What counts as "ambitions" to an animatronic ass-kicker, I wonder? Because whatever it is, it HAS to be more interesting than Cypher's."
Laugh, sigh, shake head. He scratches the back of his neck and looks at the camera.
404: "5-K... Can I call you 5-K? Whatever, I'm gonna anyways. 5-K... If you're looking to study human emotions because, I dunno, you wanna understand this sensation we humans call butthurt... Then focus those sensors on Louis Cypher. And then show me the analysis, because DAMN I wanna know how it is scientifically possible to be both self-loathing and a narcissist. HOW CAN THIS BE?! THESE ARE OPPOSITES! DOES! NOT! COMPUTE! Loupy Sideshow over here gettin' all deep in his purple prose and bruised fee-fees because SFT forced him to take a hardcore title he didn't want, but then also he wants the hardcore title so bad that he'll bury it like pirate doubloons, in a special place where only he and his hearty crew of scurvy lawyers will ever find it, and I dunno. Help me sort this shit out. Hopefully you aren't one of those robots that gets blown up by paradoxes."
Facial cringe, followed by grinning. Even a little chuckle. Oh we do have fun, don't we.
404: "Okay! NEXT question... Do you feel anything when someone tells you that you have to be in a wrestling match? I mean, I heard your challenge, and technically I had a choice whether or not to accept your challenge, but DUH, of course I'm gonna wrestle a robot, my inner child is high-fiving the SHIT out of me for getting that opportunity, so I felt happy about it. And Louis Cypher, well, he feels sad. His entire career is apparently just him doing what people ask him to do and being miserable about it. But what do you feel? I mean, besides little surges of electricity or radiator fluid, or I dunno, whatever Stark Industries hocus-pocus passes for a nervous system in that efficient li'l chassis of yours."
Ugh, is he... is he flirting with the robot? Ew, dude. Oh, never mind, he's just clowning.
404: "Last question, and I promise I won't shoehorn Cypher's bitter weak worthless sad-sack useless ass into it... Exactly how hard would I have to kick you to knock off a chunk of the AllSpark? Because I gotta be honest, I think it'd be pretty rad to turn my slow-cooker into a pet. If your protocols don't let you disclose the answer, well, hey, we'll just have fun learning that answer together, through some hands-on research. In case it isn't clear, I gladly accept your challenge. Oh man, this is gonna rule!"
He closes his eyes and inhales, big grin on his face. He thrusts his hands out towards his sides like a jubilant five-year-old.
404: "MY HIGH SCHOOL GUIDANCE COUNSELOR WAS WRONG - I TOTALLY CAN GET A JOB PUNCHING ROBOTS!!!"
KABOOM!
Cut to black.
