Friday, May 4, 2018

(Mathematical Proof: Stars = Stench)

(Introductory narration with Auntie Claudia, the dragon-demon-faerie-undead-clown-thing. That is her scientific classification) It is! It is totally my scientific classification! Or at least it will be once there are enough weird beasties that have shown up in Kaiju Family Values show to warrant Stanton Enterprises putting out an official guide to Kaiju.

ANYWAY! I am indeed you cutie clown narrator, and we open aboard A Zeppelin Named Trouble, the floating, bulbous, villainous lair of the dread Menagerie!


"(Ominous crackle of thunder)"

(Amused narration) Thank you, MECHA-Kalinda! Thunder cracks in a most sinister fashion outside the windows of the bloated gas bag. The zeppelin, you goofs! Don't disparage Lumber Jackson like that! His mother says he's a husky boy!

ANYWAY! We open inside the Menagerie Science and Construction Lab, located aboard the aforementioned Zeppelin Named Trouble. The place is used to store the enchanted tools and crafting materials of Kalinda Kriegsdottir and Delilah na Kinai that can't be stuffed into a Bag, Box, Crate, Trunk, Pouch, or Coat of Holding. At least not without a lot of setup and take down.

There's a number of forges, electric saws, drill presses, two lathes, a stove whose burners are glowing ominously and the viewing window to the oven looks like it's smiling with a set of rather fang-like teeth. Shelves and pegboards adorn pretty much all the walls showing tools of all sorts, as well as various sorts of medieval type weaponry that would make the Dragonborn and Monster Hunter alike drool.

In the center of all this, standing in front of a big screen TV, is none other than Championship Pro Wrestling's resident Dragondroid, MECHA-Kalinda, android daughter of Kalinda Kriegsdottir, Delilah na Kinai, and Sammy 3.0. Don't ask me how that works. I wasn't there, Kal slept through it, and Sammy and Delilah were drunk.

ANYWAY! Our Hardened Steel Heroine has somehow managed to acquire a lab coat, stethoscope, and a pair of glasses made for her sensational size.


"(Amusement statement of fact) They are Template-Mother Kalinda's. I am borrowing them because humans perceive a cumulative 25% boost to SCIENCE from an individual wearing such accouterments."

"In addition, I also have a clipboard, a laser pointer, and a Powerpoint presentation. I have ALL the SCIENCE credibility."


(Proud narration) Look at you! All prepped and ready to go to drop the logic bombs on your first proper professional wrestling opponent! Go get 'em, tiger!

Our Heroine looks quite pleased with herself as she looks into the camera and smiles.


"(Smug statement of fact) Greetings fans of Championship Pro Wrestling, I, MECHA-Kalinda, come to you today to address several aspects concerning my opponent, >>insults_snotty_faced_heap_of_parrot_droppings.lib not found<<

Error in snark.exe, generating options…

[A] The Wicked Witch of West Hollywood...
[B] A hacker, look at her, a pathetic creature of meat and bone…
[C] I, C, am usually the sane, rational option, but Death_To_Organics.con has a point...

>>B

Kara Arwen Star, a hacker. Look at her, a pathetic creature of meat and bone 
>>Pop_Culture_RefCount=+1<< that has deluded herself into believing that she can use something so simple as a laptop and a wireless network to hack a mechanical being.

A wretched, bipedal beast of flesh and gristle that upon a world bereft of magic, whose houses of worship are fit to bursting with uncollected devotion by uncaring divinities, believes that the stars themselves control destiny."


(Mildly astonished narration) Wow, MECHA-Kalinda actually sounds rather upset about something. Oh! Also, an image of Kara popped up when she said "Look at her," but I was too busy listening to MK to mention that!

"(Moderately disgusted tone) Upon the world of two-thirds of my progenitors, parental units Template-Mother Kalinda and Forge-Father Delilah, the stars are indeed literal guiding lights in the lives of mortal beings.

For the true stars contain divinities. The four Solar Gods, Megatatheon, Arimus, Laila, and Draghignazzo, look down upon the world from their places about Tatheon, their mother, and guide those that live upon her.

The lesser stars are lights in the sky of lesser divinities. Refugees from cast-off realities that even greater divinities decided were not meant to be. The lesser lights too have their own pull on the world.

But this is done through the flow of mana with each divinity acting as a ley line. Each divinity acting as the headwater of a rider of magical energy. Some a mere trickle, some a roaring tide."


(Simple narrative statement of facts) MK advances the Powerpoint, showing a donut-shaped world with one big star overhead, three smaller stars corkscrewing around the donut, and a few smaller stars. The smallest ones have single line tiny trickles, the corkscrewing stars have spotlights, while the big one has a massive beam drawn in yellow that is labeled "zOMGWTFLOL."

This advances one more to show a rather constipated looking sun, drawn with a face and tiny arms clenched close against the round body with equally clenched fists, a pathetic dotted line firing from its fiery butt towards what is obviously the earth. The dotted line fans out a bit, with part of it hitting the Moon and bouncing back to Earth.


"(Mix of moderate disgust, but also pity) Unfortunately, your magical backwater of a roundworld has one and only one ley line coming into it from off planet.

Something is seriously wrong with the amount of ambient mana present in this universe. My theory is that your overdeity... >>insults_shitty_orphan_children.lib not found<<

Error in snark.exe, generating options…
[A] Fell in the hole in the cosmic outhouse and drowned
[B] Recognized how unloveable you all were and abandoned this universe for one not tarnished with sentient organic life
[C] Noted that the sentient life it had created would go on to release "Baby Geniuses 2" and promptly slit its wrists

>>C

...noted that the sentient life it had created would go on to release "Baby Geniuses 2" >>Pop_Culture_RefCount=+1<< and promptly slit its wrists and bled out upon its celestial throne. This means that there is one and precisely one elemental force left through which the stars could possibly interact and drive the destinies of mortal men."


(Giggling narration) The Powerpoint briefly plays a clip of a rather crass, angry, foul-mouthed man shouting about gravity.

"(Explanation mode) Gravity is a function inherent to mass and weakens with the square of the distance. So if you move twice as far away from the thing you feel one half of one half the effects of gravity.

Let me translate this to something that organic lifeforms can more easily grasp."


(Even more giggling narration) A caricature of DTW wrestler Teiji Shintaro, dressed in his usually poopy boxer shorts, appears on the screen. A gaseous, green, circular miasma surrounds him.

"(If I had functional olfactory receptors I would be pinching my nose closed right now) This is Teiji Shintaro, everybody's favorite nihilistic shitgibbon. His personal hygiene practices are abhorrent even for a biological lifeform, and thus his stench is extreme.

At a distance of one meter, his aura of filth will induce vomiting. We will refer to this unit as one Shintaro.

Thankfully exposure to circulating air means that at a distance of 2 meters his smell is only 1/4th as strong, as 4 is two times time. At three meters it is only 1/9th as strong, and at 4 meters it's a mere 1/16th as strong."


(Not quite giggling as much, but still giggling narration) The stench slowly expands, becoming more translucent as the image zooms out.

"(Slightly disgusted explanation mode) Now imagine that the sun is a ball of stench with its mass converted in a one to one ratio into stink. In this scenario, the sun would smell so bad that on average it would make the average person vomit from 88,880,357.6 meters away.

If this were the case the sun would be the biggest source of stench on Planet Earth. But thankfully is it made of mass, not of stench, and thus instead merely has a gravitational pull."


(Continued giggling narration) That constipated sun is back, only this time with an expression of relief and a cone of stench firing from its butt.

"(Smug explanation mode) We will thus dub the amount of one sun's worth of reek a "solar ass."

Now the closest star to Earth besides the sun is Proxima Centauri, which is a teeny thing without much stink to it. Only .1221 Solar Asses. Positioned at 4.25 Light Years away it is a feeble 0.00015 Shintaros.

An amount of stench equal to approximately 1.5 kilograms of regurgitated food left behind from listening to your average Nate Narwin promo at a distance of 100 meters. Remember, in this example mass and stench are representative of one another.

So the closest star to Earth aside from the sun? It has less gravitational pull on you than 1.5 kilograms of vomit 1/10th of a kilometer away."


(Disgusted giggling narration) The screen shifts to show Earth and a star with a distance labeled 4.25 light years above a line connecting the two, then a nose and a pool of vomit marked 1.5 kgs and a line connecting the two reading 100 meters.

"(Mocking) "Oh but MECHA-Kalinda," I hear you say, because your televisions and computers have hidden microphones that SAMSUNG is using to pick up on your conversations and scan them for use in targeting advertising and their informational security is shite.

"Proxima Centauri is but a tiny little thing! Alpha Centauri A and B are a little further away, but are much bigger!"

Which is quite correct, obnoxious and whiny contrarian viewer! Alpha Centauri A is 1.1 Solar Asses, which means that it is equivalent to the aforementioned pool of vomit at a distance of 33 meters!

Beyond this, the numbers don't particularly matter, as due to the distances involved become absolutely minuscule. Rapidly becoming orders of magnitude less."


(Normal narration) The stench diagrams vanish, replaced by a cut out of a cute baby in front of a cartoon drawing of a hospital.

"(Disgusted explanation mode) So if the "stars" have any effect on the lives of mortal beings, they are equally by…

The heaviest possible Cruiserweight wrestler at 275 meters.

A particularly hefty Cocker Spaniel at 100 meters.

A female black widow spider at 0.89 meters."


(Bored recitation of images narration.) Images of each of the things pop up on the screen with lines and numbers indicating the distance from the baby.

"(Smug conclusion) Star charts don't take into account spiders, spaniels, and professional wrestlers in potential danger of cutting weight. All of which would have more gravitational pull on a human being than the stars would.

The position of a janitor's cart in the hallway would have more potential effect on your destiny in both metaphysical nonsense and in practical reality."


(Narration of expression) MECHA-Kalinda sneers into the camera.

"(Annoyed statement) The stars hold no sway over the destiny of mankind, and in declaring herself to be one of them, my opponents unwittingly announces her irrelevance towards the future of Championship Pro Wrestling. In this sense and this sense only is she a star.

As I will not allow her "rise" over me. She is a "star" that will never experience a dawn.

I am a Mighty Metallic Monster. The Sovereign of Steel. The biomechanical daughter of DTW's World Champion, crafted in her draconic image.

My opponent calls herself Star, yet she is neither a massive fusion reaction nor a popular culture personality.

My opponent calls herself Arwen, yet she is not an elf, nor of an elven bloodline, and when we tie up it will be the first time that she has so much as come within spitting distance of anything truly elven.

And when all is said and done?"


(Amused narration) MK grins a very not so nice smile, one that's rather familiar! HEY! That's one of mine! That's Smile #812 (Employment Lawyer Who Has a Female Client With a Newborn With Company Documentation She Was Dismissed Due to Her Pregnancy).

"(Threatening hyperbole mode) As you cradle you pulverized skull and try frantically to keep the debris of your squishy thinking apparatus from leaking out you will also realize that no one will "Kara" 'bout you anymore.

Because why would they, hacker? Why would they settle to watch your cyber punk-ass panting and sweating from running the ring ropes when they have an honest-to-goddess mechanized lifeform in front of them that after having logically whipped your >>insults_goth_bitch_buns.lib not found<< from pillar to post just now, is going to be delivering an even more devastating physical beating. Flesh is fallible. Glory to the machine."


(Closing narration) With that MECHA-Kalinda draws her Turret Blades from behind her back, crossing them over her chest as she snarls at the camera as we fade to black.

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