(Introductory narration) Yes! That's right ladies and gentlemen, boiling ghouls, inbreds of all stages! MECHA-Kalinda is freshly victorious over hacker and astrologer Kara Star, a pathetic creature of meat and bone, running through corridors, blah blah blah.
Anyway, with all her stargazing and attempts at divination, she somehow managed to avoid seeing herself totally getting her ridiculously pale butt kicked from pillar to post.
And look, I'm one to talk head considering I'm the color of newly fallen snow. But I've got a bit of undead and faerie in me. I'm supposed to be pale, deathly, and otherworldly. Kara, though, is like mayonnaise. Eggy, glistening, full of sulfur, and prone to becoming gross and unpleasant if you leave her out in the sun for more than like fifteen minutes.
But this week! This week we...
"(Grumps)"
(Continued narration) This week we...
"(Further grumping)"
(Narration following a particularly loud raspberry) Pbbbbt. Fine. Okay, sourpuss, what's up?
"(Statement of annoyed exasperation) I was not aware when I expressed my desire to continue the in the grappling arts like all three of my parental units that I would be responsible for correcting the lacking education status of my coworkers."
"The amount of ignorance on display here about basic physics, chemistry, and materials science is staggering. I have dedicated my self-repair and enhancement protocols to crafting myself tear ducts so that I may literally weep for the North American educational standard. Because whatever in the nine hells they are doing, it is not working."
(Commiserating narration) I think it's more that professional wrestlers tend to be athletic and/or pretty, and thus managed to coast through mandatory education by playings sportsball and being cheerleaders.
Now take a deep breath so that your vocal cords work properly and you're not talking through your speakers, look into the camera, and let the hatred flow!
"(Long-suffering sigh) Yes, Auntie Claudia"
(Simple statement of fact narration) MECHA-Kalinda takes in a deep breath. A very, very deep breath. She's still taking it. Still taking it. Geez, save some oxygen for the rest of the planet MK!
"(Utter loathing) Of all the CPW Wrestlers there is one man who has proven himself most worthy of his last name. Canas. Canned ass. Because when you nick the surface and get right down to it, he is nothing more than foul-smelling, room temperature air sealed in a flimsy, fragile container."
"Mr. Ass, while sporting an impressive MMA record, has inserted himself in CPW into the position of a coward, a bully, and a complete and utter moron. Kara Arwen Star was merely misguided with her superstitious beliefs about stars and their potential influence on the fates and destinies of mortal men and women."
"But Cyral Canas has decided that to fly in the face of reality and declare, stupidly, directly out of his stupid mouth some very stupid things about chemistry and materials science that fly in the face of direct, observable reality."
"This, of course, makes him especially stupid. So stupid in fact that my Snark.exe process has been overloaded entirely with just how completely and utterly stupid the contents of his first squirt of verbal diarrhea for Championship Pro Wrestling were."
(Spittake narration) MECHA-Kalinda has pulled a foam and felt hand puppet of her opponent out from behind her back. Either she has compartments back there somewhere, or she's somehow managed to copy my hammerspace trick.
The bargain basement muppet is her opponent's greasy, beardy, product-laden haired head on top of a cylinder with a label reading, of course, "Canned Ass."
"(Statement as the hand puppet) I am Cyral Canned Ass, and I am going to proceed to talk out of mine! Blah blah blah, human flesh and bone are superior to metal panels and framework, which is why humans walk away when they get hit by cars and are not turned into chunk gore salsa, but SUV's are sent to the junkyard!"
"Why do we even need cars when human food is a much superior resource to gasoline, and our shitty, shitty makeshift biological processes that involve us slowly corroding to death over the span of less than a century are soooo much better than combustion engines!"
"I don't understand why we don't just feed our cars hamburgers, craft them out of meat and bone, give them legs instead of wheels, and call them horses! I like the smell of shit and as you can see from my repugnant facial hair greatly enjoy carting around tremendous loads of it goatee and mustache. Just in case I get a little bit hungry, or my breath makes the slightest attempt at smelling minty fresh."
"Because look at me! I'm a big scary mix martial artist! And yet rather than make my debut by doing something impressive like punching my way out of a box made out of steel plate, showing my endurance by outpacing a gar running on gasoline, or using the sheer amounts of stinky, ignorant hot hair contained within my superior, fleshy body to propel myself to the top of the arena using my anus as a jump jet. I decided to be the world's most cowardly ex-MMA guy with a beard full of poop and attacked a woman half my size that had just lost a match, and I did so for no apparent reason!"
"Well, maybe I thought that a camwhore was like a regular whore and figured Roxy would wrap her lips scarred from too many collagen injections around my… >>error 404, penis not found, masculine appendage length suspected to be rounding error<< and figured that since I am a wretched involuntary celibate that attacking her opponent would give me a big gold stare on my favor card that I could redeem for a sex."
(Burnination narration) MECHA-Kalinda looks at the puppet with complete and utter scorn, opens her mouth, and incinerates it with a deluge of cerulean blue flames that seem to throw off mist and fog rather than smoke, signifying their extreme cold.
"(Unimpressed statement of fact) I am a dragon, Mr. Ass, lest you forget that. My corporeal vessel constructed of artificial and not biological components but I remain a dragon nonetheless."
"My armor plating is a lightweight composite alloy. My frame is made from a mana-rich metal that those of you on this magic-dead roundworld will never so much as smell a molecule of in the lifespan of your planet. My muscles are a synthetic mimic of draconic muscle tissue, which is several times more durable and one and a half times stronger than human flesh at its baseline, growing only stronger as the dragon ages, and the raw magical essence of their very core suffuses their body."
"Because Canned Ass is wrong. I have a heart. I have a soul. At the very core of my being is a fist-sized blue gemstone containing within it a pinprick of a portal to a realm of eternal, burning cold."
"A place where temperature has stopped, where it cannot possibly be any colder. Where the matter that you are familiar with ceases to move entirely. An infinite expanse of atoms frozen eternally in motion and are eternally on fire."
"This is what fuels me, Canned Ass, this is what drives me. This infinite, eternal energy source. Not unlike that sported by my Template-Mother Kalinda."
"Which is another stupid thing you've done to add to the chronicles of your stupidity. Kalinda is my mother, you inbred, ignorant ass-beast. I'm MECHA-Kalinda. Due to, you know, being an android double of her physical form."
"A great human scientist said that he only knew of two infinite things; the universe and human stupidity, and he wasn't quite so sure about the universe."
"And here you are proving him right, Mr. Ass. Here you are thinking that you're going to outlast a machine running on gasoline with your disgusting biological body. Disgusting not because it's biological, but because you decide to soak your face fungus in feces."
"One gallon of gasoline is 6.3 pounds and contains 31,500 kilocalories. 6.3 pounds of table sugar contains a mere 9,702 kilocalories. A machine designed to run off of gasoline is going to take in that gallon of gasoline and use it far easier than you will those 6.3 pounds of table sugar. But you can try, though. Go ahead and attempt to ingest them. I'll wait."
(Miniscule narration) A beat.
"(Scorn) No, I won't. Because if you attempt to consume 6.3 pounds of sugar you are an idiot beyond the wildest capacities of my imagination."
"Do you know what happens when a human reaches the limits of their energy stores? Because I do. The knowledge has been passed onto me from the stores of internet information I have gained from my mother's muse."
"Beyond a certain point, the human body begins to cannibalize itself. It starts to break down muscle tissue. It devours you from within. You shit ropy strands that used to be your biceps, your gluts, your quads, and your piss turns the color of Dr. Pepper."
"Human tissue is so much more fragile than metal, than plastics, than alloys. It's just so much squishy, squishy water wrapped in a bubble of fats and proteins. If you compress them too much they burst. If you cut them they rupture."
"You will bash your hands into bleeding stumps of blood, gristle, and bone fragments long before you cause any permanent damage to my gleaming armored hide. Your bones will crack and be ground to dust long before mine are even so much as stained with the unspeakable fluids that will leak from your battered husk as you attempt to wound me."
"And that is all you will do. Attempt. I am durable, I am unbreakable, but I do feel pain. Just as you do, I can feel pain, I can feel fatigue. The flow of energy to my limbs turning from powering them to restoring them. Removing the tiny imperfections your blows have caused, buffing out the smudges made by your greasy skin, cleansing the bits of biological matter you have left behind as you attempt to futility batter my chassis."
"But there's a difference between you and me, Cyral. Aside from the obvious."
"If my arm comes off, I'm simply missing an arm and I can keep going."
"If your arm comes off, you're going to bleed out and without immediate medical attention you are going to fucking die."
"And I'm going to tell you right now that your arms come off far, far more easily than mine do."
"Beneath all the bullshit there was one single shining nugget of truth that you spoke in your ignorant, stupid tirade where in your ignorance and stupidity you fountained forth unto the world a geyser of fetid, reeking shit that has left all of Mankind collectively stupider for having those words vomited forth into the world in that particular order."
"You said that I've never faced a man like you. And in this, and only this, you are one hundred percent completely, totally, and utterly correct."
"You're my fourth match ever…
>>Snark.exe has rebooted!<< Generating options…
[A] You paste-eating pile of piglets
[B] You paragon of the inferiority of mankind
[C] You remedial education requiring cupcake frosted in shit and pubic hair
>>C
You're my fourth match ever, you remedial education-requiring cupcake frosted in shit and pubic hair. I've faced dinosaurs, ogres, and a delusional, mayonnaise-hued member of the Elvira fanclub that got fired from Geek Squad."
"OF COURSE I'VE NEVER FACED A MAN LIKE YOU! I HAVEN'T EVEN FACED A FUCKING MAN YET!"
"And I still haven't. Because what sort of man makes himself known by attacking persons in a smaller weight division immediately after they have lost grueling matches?"
"The sort of man that compensates for his genitalia being basically a rounding error and compensates for the hatred of his own body through extensive and expensive aftermarket customization options, that's who."
"Imagine if you'd used the money you spent into getting all that body art into getting an education in the first place. That way you wouldn't have wound up being made to look like an idiot in front of the entire world by grunting 'Me human, me strong, me going to hurl myself in front of onrushing train and splatter over train tracks like overripe pumpkin!'"
(Popcorn-eating narration) MECHA-Kalinda utilizes her biological simulation subunits to generate a bit of fluid in her mouth, which she then spits in disgust.
"(Promotional Violent Hyperbole Mode Engaged) Here you are, smug and superior while all the while your beard is stinking of shit, your very breath reeking of ignorance and your soul emanating a vile miasma…
Generating responses
[A] Of Frank Stallone's body odor
[B] That is the inevitable decay of the slowly aging, oxidizing human condition
[C] Of insecurity and fear
>>C
A vile miasma of insecurity and fear."
"Because I can smell it on you, Cyral Canas. I can smell it through the fetid stench you smear all over yourself to try and hide the rotting filth inside your black and empty heart."
"You are no warrior. Your actions have proved that."
"You are no intellectual. Your words have proved that."
"You cannot outfight me. You cannot outthink me."
"All that remains for you, Cyral Canas, is not to be the killer, but rather to be killed."
"At CPW Power all will bear witness to what you wished to be a career of fame, fortune, and glory burn to frozen cinders amidst my azure blaze."
"Yours is not the destiny of Cain the Killer. Yours is the fate of Able the Slain."
"Your dreams die tonight, Cyral Canas."
"And if you're not careful?"
(Gleeful descriptive narration) MECHA-Kalinda smiles a dark and wicked smile (#4,666 Paul Ryan taking food, shelter, and healthcare away from a whole orphanage full of small children, then also setting said orphans on fire.)
"(>:D) So will you. Glory to the machine."
(Closing narration) With that MECHA-Kalinda draws in a deep breath once more, her sapphire sear consuming the camera and turning the image to static for a moment before we cut to black.
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