(An Android Weeps for the Future)

(Opening narration) And once again we are aboard the fiendish laboratory aboard A Zeppelin Called Trouble, which is actually looking a bit more sinister than usual, as there are a few blood splatters here and there, as well as bit of tissue and a few eyeballs pinned to a board, as well as several more dissected ones strewn about.

"(Annoyance) Yes, the retrieval of the samples required a great deal more were more effort than was necessary, thanks to you."

(Protesting narration) But you can't just vivisect a gal without the proper mood and music!

"(Scoffing) Marvin Gaye, rose petals, and candles are not required for a scientific vivisection!"

(Masochistic narration) Sure they are! You strap a gal down to a table, whisper sweet nothings about carving up her eye sockets for scientific study, and didn't even bother taking me out for dinner and drinks first!

"(Disgust) This was not a romantic liaison."

(Grumpypuss narration) Of course, it wasn't! There was no romance to be had in the slightest! It was brutal, cold, and efficient! It was like being cut up by...

"(Smugness) A machine?"

(Grumpypussier narration) WORSE! A German! You even had one of those little suction vacuum thingies to get rid of all the blood right away so there were no hot, fun rivulets running down my face, contrasting with my lovely pale skin!

"(Disapproval) Do not utilize cultural stereotypes, even if they have the roots in reality, such as Germans being humorless, practical, and efficient."

(Curious narration) Like that Mad Dr. Sato chick?

"(Ponderous) She has not officially supplied a bio to CPW. But judging from her names she is of Japanese origin and is faking ze fonetic aksent because she thinks it makes her seem more sinister and villainous."

(Pitying narration) Aww. That's kind of sad that she isn't really comfortable with her own innate brand of super-villainy and thus has to rely on old tropes like that to try and be all sinister.

It's not how you sound, it's what you say, what you do while saying it, and where you say it that counts, not how you say it.

"We're going to have some fun today, boys and girls." means completely different things depending on what you're wearing, what you're doing, and where you are.

When you're wearing a cardigan, cat's eye glasses, and have your hair up in a bun in a kindergarten classroom it means that the safety scissors and edible paste are coming out.

Which is completely different from when you're wearing a hockey mask and wielding a blood-stained machete out in the woods.

Or in the storage area behind the altar in a cassock whilst sporting an erection.

"(Supreme disgust) Eww."

(Scoffing narration) I know right? How horrible some people are.

"(Agreement) Not maintaining your cutting implements to the point where they are literally stained with blood. That is not good for the metal. Disgusting."

(Shocked narration) Uhh… yeah… okay.

ANYWAY! So Big Blue Mark II, what's with the fascination with my eyeballs today? Not that I don't appreciate being sliced and diced every so often.

"(Annoyance) I could have done without you spitting your own blood around the laboratory, or whilst I was working on the socket, using your tongue to remove your own loose eyeball and devour it."

(Disappointed narration) Well, you weren't bothering to deck the halls in blood and gore like a proper mad scientist, so I had to do it myself!

As for the eyeball thing, I wanted to know what it felt like! And tasted like! I've never eaten my own eyeballs before. Other people's, sure, I keep a jar of pickled eyes in my minifridge for snacks. But my own? I just had to get a sample!

My eyeballs taste delicious, I'll have you know!

Also, you didn't answer the question.

"(Exposition Mode) My chassis' capacity for biological mimicry did not include proper tear ducts. My ocular sensors will be moisturized, certainly, but I lack the capacity to cry."

(Puzzled narration) And why do you think you need to cry?

"(Despondent statement of fact) Because after two decidedly dim opponents who were detached from reality and lacked a proper education of SCIENCE!, CPW has seen fit to grant me a third."

"And as a result, I wish to weep for the state of science education in North America."

(Commiserating narration) Uff dah. That's rough, squirt.

"(Annoyed sigh) Perhaps I merely have my expectations too high for the mental faculties of my coworkers. Taking their accomplishments at face value of being an excellent hacker, a top-tier mixed martial artist, and… whatever the hells it is that Sam Hamilton, whose name is inefficient and thus will be referred to henceforth as Samilton, does."

"Supposedly she is a professional wrestling veteran. But if this is the case she is missing very large, very obvious pieces of the pro wrestling business."

"As a result, I worry greatly about her physical and mental well being. During our Twitter communications, she was unable to grasp neither the concept that two individuals with mutual employment by the same company are coworkers nor the very concept of Promotional Violent Hyperbole."

"I even advised her on how to obtain definitions for the individual words if they were unfamiliar and causing a problem with the presentation of the concept, but my words were met with disbelief, dismissal, and scorn."

"For some reason, she has decided to believe that when I state that I am going to crush the skulls of my opponent, I am being serious. That rather than exaggerating the effects of my violence for the purposes of promoting my match, I am completely and totally one-hundred percent trying to actually crush skulls and am merely lacking the competence to do so."

(Pottymouthed narration) That's pretty fuzzed up, pipsqueak.

"(Gasping in horror) You said a swear! Well, a swear for YOU anyway."

(Evil narration whilst sinisterly rubbing hands together) Yes! Tremble in fear of my G-rated potty mouth!

"(Despondent sigh) Thus I have come to the conclusion that Coworker Samilton, unfortunately, is suffering the effect of cumulative blows to the head."

"This has, of course, resulted in her dissociation from reality, her inability to grasp concepts, and her VERY self-destructive training regimen."

(Dismissive narration) Meh. I think she's just a twit.

"(Horror!) Claudia! Be nice to my disabled coworker! She doesn't know what she's saying!"

(Narration preceded by blowing a raspberry) If there are any mental disabilities going on here it's cranial-rectal insertion.

Oh! A piece of actual narration for once as MECHA-Kalinda turns and looks directly into the camera!

"(Exposition Mode) Auntie Claudia is stating you have your head up your ass, Coworker Samilton. I will help you with the big, scientific words since apparently due to your condition you do not actually process the data contained within."

"Which is most unfortunate. I was looking forward to speaking with you backstage in the future about the utilization of power moves against smaller opponents. As the both of us utilize primarily hard-hitting, lifting-based offensive maneuvers and are outliers for height."

"In professional wrestling, the terminology used to apply to an outlier of size that primarily uses power moves is what is referred to as a 'hoss.'"

"Qualities of the typical hoss include an enlarged physical stature compared to the majority of their competitive division, a weight imbalance of at least twenty to twenty-five percent higher than the average, and the usage of "power" based moves."

"Unfortunately I have determined that you are merely a HINO, or Hoss in Name Only. Though an absolutely abominable tool for measuring physical well-being, the Body-Mass Index is a tool that also leads to determining Hoss status."

"A true and proper Hoss will have a body that is built for power, rather than to be pretty or toned. When you see a bodybuilder in all their defined, muscular, oiled up glory they are in fact at their weakest. Starved and dehydrated in order to best show off the muscles barely contained under their skin."

"A proper Hoss does not have pretty muscles. A proper Hoss has mighty muscles. A Hoss has muscles that are meant for use; lifting heavy objects, doing difficult things for extended periods of time, that sort of thing."

"And as a result, a Hoss does not seek out a low body fat percentage like those merely concerned about their looks. One can achieve an increased BMI score through muscles alone, but that is difficult. Especially for a woman who has a naturally higher body fat percentage anyway."

"Unfortunately, Coworker Samilton's Hoss-like capabilities exist entirely due to her height and the small scale of her common opponents. Her long limbs grant her the capacity to more easily grab smaller individuals for her power moves."

"But her BMI score is a rather un-Hoss-y 19.7. She is a mere 9 pounds away from being considered underweight. These are not the muscles of a mighty, powerful competitor."

"Compare to acknowledged Japanese She-Hosses Bull Nakano, 5'7", 201 pounds, 31.4 BMI, and Aja Kong, 5'5", 227 pounds, 37.8 BMI. Classed as not merely overweight, but outright obese."

"Our own Lumber Jackson, whom I hope to face for the CPW World Heavyweight Championship after disposing of your frail, waif-like carcass (that is Promotional Violent Hyperbole, by the by) is 6'5", 265 pounds, and a 31.4 BMI, identical to that of Bull Nakano. He is definitely a hoss."

"Cyral of the Canned Ass, however, despite being 7 pounds heavier and with a greater BMI is not a true Hoss. As his moveset is primarily strikes and not power moves he is, in fact, a Clubbering Hoss."

"My chassis' construction mimics my Template-Mother Kalinda's draconic might. Even though my body is not comprised of organic tissue, I am mimicking a BMI of 26.3, removing the 1/3rd of my bodyweight dedicated to my tail."

"26.3 is slightly above normal levels, and not particularly Hoss-y. However, draconic tissue is superior to its human equivalents, and as a result my parental unit, and thus me, are half again as strong as an equivalent human. Multiplying my 270-pound sans-tail weight by 1.5, I get my proper 405-pound weight, which would give me a 39.4 BMI. Making me especially Hoss-like indeed."

"While I do not perform the Hoss staples of chokeslams and powerbombs, my arsenal consists primarily of suplexes and strikes. The vast majority of my strikes are chosen for their capacity to deliver a greater impact apart from merely swinging the limb due to their capacity to put a significant fraction of my body weight behind them."

(Narration) MECHA-Kalinda lets out a sad little sigh.

"(Disappointment) I was hoping to engage in what is referred to as a "Hoss Fight," with Coworker Samilton, but unfortunately, she suffers from additional delusional aspects regarding her own physicality in addition to her self-destructive ways and her inability to grasp aspects of reality."

"Power is nothing without the leverage required to use it and muscles are useless if they do not have something to push off of. Tendons connect muscle to bone, and ligaments connect bone to bone. It is these tissues that allow for the muscles to do their job."

"This is why it is important for a proper Hoss to have a high body-mass index. The additional layers of muscle and fat protect the tendons and ligaments from damage dealt whilst giving and receiving blows."

"Despite her supposed training, Coworker Samilton is not going to arrive to POWER magically able to withstand blows from my mighty metallic limbs, making my arms bend while her flesh remains hale and hearty."

"This would not be the case even if I were another wrestler merely made from flesh and bone rather than the bio-metallic composite alloys, mana-infused metal bones, and synthetic dracomuscle."

"Simple physics dictate that executing the same move that due to my greater mass, I am going to be inflicting more damage, and due to the lesser amount of protection surrounding her ligaments, tendons, and bones, Coworker Samilton is going to receive more damage from an identical blow."

"Human will is an incredible force, but in a near mana-dead reality like this one will alone is scarcely able to overcome the laws of physics."

"Coworker Samilton's attempt at training consists entirely of self-destruction. She is going to come into this match with her tissues bruised and damaged prematurely, her muscles fatigued, her cell ruptured, her fluids leaking within her own flesh."

"And then she is going to hurl her small, fragile, organic form against mine again and again and again. She believes that this act will lead her to victory. It will not."

"Willpower is indeed an amazing force, and if Coworker Samilton believes that as a machine I do not understand it than she is perhaps even more brain damaged from her many battles than my original analysis figured. I understand the human will perfectly."

"It allows humans to continue on in times of great pain and stress, and when combined with flooding the endocrine system with specific hormones allows for momentary bursts of athletic performance in times of need that are capable of even exceeding the organism's original capacity."

"Unfortunately the human will is quite outmatched by another aspect of human nature; that of deception. Specifically deception of the self. This quality is especially present in the subset of professional wrestling combatants designated 'heels.' One need only look at my two prior opponents to see that this is the case."

(Plain narration) MECHA-Kalinda tilts her head and smiles (#4327 Barbecue enthusiast gleefully eating a steak in front of a Vegan protest of his restaurant) sinisterly.

"(Promotional Violent Hyperbole Mode Engaged) I have been nice, I have been respectful, I have even gone so far as to not call upon my Snark.exe subprocess in order to better cater to Coworker Samilton's diminished mental capacity."

"I will be forgoing the usual crushing of skulls in order to prevent further trauma to Coworker Samilton's obviously defective organic brain."

"However, somehow, the human doctors have cleared her in order to face me. Thus, I will not shy away from fulfilling the task of fighting for the amusement of the crowd that is the entire reason for which I am employed."

"While doing my best to preserve her already limited mental capacities by not targeting her head, I will spare no mercy for the rest of Coworker Samilton's inferior biological body."

"She has stated that she does not submit. She has stated that she has an incredible will. Perhaps these aspects are additional symptoms of her self-delusion, but for the moment I am choosing to believe Coworker Samilton when she professes that she has these capabilities."

"She has faced individuals of my size before and achieved victory. However, Coworker Samilton has never faced anything truly like me, now has she?"

"At best she has encountered my Component-Mother, Sammy 3.0. My android parental unit is a much smaller android, one whose chassis was created entirely using human materials science. Bereft entirely of the benefits of a world filled with hundreds of non-human sentient species and lacking the capacity for magic."

"Strikes that would cause dire harm to my Component-Mother will be lessened when applied to me, as I am larger, I am stronger, I am more durable, and my chassis is constructed from superior otherworldly materials. In time, however, I fully expect my parental unit to have a fully upgraded chassis on par with my own."

"Make no mistake, I do not discount Coworker Samilton's will and drive. They are just insufficient to overcome the gap between us."

"I am a machine. If the otherwise absent divinities of your world return and decide to smite me, causing a freak alignment of the crystalline lattice in my forearm to coincide with the forces of impacting the ring post, causing a fracture, creating a sprain, tearing a ligament analog, I will certainly experience pain. I will be inconvenienced by the inefficient function of my wounded limb. But if said limb become more of a hindrance than a help, I can simply remove it. I can shut it down."

"Coworker Samilton does not have this capacity. She cannot lift me, thus she must strike at me. She will slam her limbs into me again and again and again. Her will and her arrogance will have her limbs impacting my durable chassis until the flesh begins to give way."

"Samantha Hamilton can and will strike at me until she grinds her own limbs into hamburger. She can reduce them into a slurry of bone fragments and bleeding meat. This is the strategy she has chosen, and I cannot stop her from pursuing it."

"If the blood-filled water balloon wants to splash herself across my armored hide, fine. I will begrudgingly dedicate my maintenance processes to excising the blood and gore from the crevices of my superior mechanical form."

"But as amusing as it might be to allow my opponent to destroy herself against my body, that will be no fun for the fans. Our audience has paid to see me fight, and fight I shall."

"I will accelerate Coworker Samilton's plan of self-destruction via the pulverizing of her limbs. In what is called "ring psychology" I will target her vulnerable joints. I will wear away her capacity to use them. I will make it so that even to remain standing, let alone raising a fist to lash out at me will be too great a chore for her worn and tattered carcass to endure."

"Because that is the fate of all flesh. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. And CPW's so-called "Titaness," despite her great stature compared to the mundane women of professional wrestling, will fall."

"She is not a mighty redwood, a majestic, towering titan stretching above all overs, its great girth and durability not only allowing it to thrive while others burn around it but incorporating the fire and destruction of others into its very nature."

"Coworker Samilton is, unfortunately, a telephone pole. A false creation embedded in the ground to mock the majesty of true trees, created for the purpose of serving man. Tall and straight, uniform, perfect, and geometrically pleasing. But ultimately destined to be broken by the first sloppy drunk that comes along and hits it the wrong way."

"And you've had your share of sloppy drunks hitting you, Samantha, and all the hits have been to your poor, unfortunate head."

"I am sorry that professional wrestling has left you this way, a physically excellent but mentally degraded husk of a human being. I am sorry I cannot help you. I do not have innate spellcasting capacities like my Template-Mother Kalinda that would allow me to unscramble the egg that is your brain."

"I am not, however, sorry for the toll I will take on your otherwise pristine body. Well, pristine save for the places where you have despoiled it in a deluded effort to 'toughen up.'"

"It takes months for professional wrestlers to build up the tolerance to reach the point where they can compete properly in a true match. In the early stages, something so simple as bouncing off the ring ropes can leave bruises across one's entire back."

"Being able to endure hitting the canvas repeatedly is a feat that will take weeks. A neophyte wrestler takes at least a year to build their body and mind up to the task of doing what we do every day. They must train their body and they must train their mind."

"Some martial artists seek to harden their hands, deaden their nerves, and strengthening the whole of their forelimbs by throwing strikes into buckets of sand, dried beans, rice, or eventually metal shot."

"While what you want to accomplish, Samantha, is attainable in time, it is not attainable in the span of a single week. The human body just doesn't work like that."

"All your efforts to toughen yourself up to be able to damage me are for nothing. You have weakened and wounded yourself to take steps down a very long road that you believe you have leaped to the very end of. In doing so you have merely caused yourself pain and weakened your body against a foe that you needed to be at your best in order to defeat."

"You will refuse to submit, and I will refuse to risk damaging your fragile thinking apparatus any further by utilizing my Dragon Dance finishing maneuver. So I will simply destroy your limbs systematically."

"It doesn't matter if you won't tap, it doesn't matter if I don't want to cause you the concussion from a knockout blow for a pinfall. Because I will simply crush, rend, and tear each limb with debilitating strikes and agonizing submission holds until you are no longer capable of moving them."

"I will begin with your arms so that your most effective means of striking me will be taken away. Your numbed fingers will be unable break you free of my durable draconic dominance."

"Once you can no longer defend yourself, I will begin on your legs. Once again they will suffer from a deluge of blows, be placed into holds that will have you begging me to rip them free of your body to end the pain. Even though you will never submit."

"And then, once you are no longer even capable of rising, when you can do nothing but lift your head and gaze in terror at the Mighty Metal Monster that has inflicted such horrors upon you…"

"Then and only then will I end your suffering with a pinfall."

"I could try to leverage my greater weight, I could try to simply entangle you in your own limbs…"

"But you see, Coworker Samantha, you will not learn anything in that way. If I simply resort to application of mass you will simply excuse your loss as me being larger. If I pin you in a strange, twisty way you will blame your loss on my knowledge of physics, physiology, and my Template-Mother watching too many "lucharesu" tapes."

MECHA-Kalinda closes her eyes and sadly shakes her head.

"(Sorrow) I want you to understand, Samantha, that you did this to yourself."

"Glory to the machine."

The artificial dragoness lowers her head and lets out a shuddering sigh, a droplet of moisture trickling down her cheek.

Fade to gunmetal grey.