Addition to the Crew
Most of my Bots were dismantled in that the terrible ambush at the Bass Theater. That's okay. A pirate's crew is meant to be expendable. I always back up my Bots' programs and memories before every battle. I keep spare parts on hand so I can rebuild my entire crew in a pinch. This super villain plans ahead.
While I was rebuilding, I noticed the lair had become quite messy. CookBot was cleaning, but I found there is only so many housekeeping subprograms you can cram in one Bot's head. I was also thinking about how out numbered we were the other night. Sure, I can't make a vast army like General Surgeon apparently can, but I afford to add some more firepower. I decide to make another Bot geared more towards domestic duties. I called him CabinBot and adjusted his leg motors so he stands about five inches shorter than the others. He's plucky and eager to vacuum. I'm proud of myself for thinking to make him.
Unfortunately, remaking my dead Bots and adding a new one has drained my spare parts cache. I'll need to add to the cash flow somehow. I don't really have a scheme planned which is pretty bad. I wish I could just go and knock over a bank but seriously, that gets you no respect. When America's Worse Villains puts together a montage of your exploits for their viewers/snitches to watch, you want to really wow them, not have endless pictures of you in a bank.
As you can imagine, coming up with creative crimes can sometimes put pressure on a gal. It's the super villain's equivalent of writer's block. Not only do I want to be flashy, but I also have to keep in mind that heroes might get invovoled, so I need hero-fighting plans ready too. The bank job is starting to look more attractive.
What's worse is that I am tense and needing a break from the hideout but I've devolped a slight phobia. I usually hit the strip clubs to relax, but after my near death experience known also as the month of December, I'm a little gun shy about hanging out with buff young men. Just thinking about bars is making me queasy and a little trigger happy. I'm afraid the first time a hot guy gave me a lapdance, I might shoot him before he infects me with his genetic engineered germ army.
Grrr, I don't know what to do. I've tried revenge, but so far, the computer I stole from Walker's corpse has been resistant to my hacking. I think I can break it in time, but my mind is so scattered right now. My nerves are a little shot and no matter how Rum and Cokes CookBot makes for me, I can't seem to chill out.
I'm going to add a massage program to CabinBot and try to chill.
While I was rebuilding, I noticed the lair had become quite messy. CookBot was cleaning, but I found there is only so many housekeeping subprograms you can cram in one Bot's head. I was also thinking about how out numbered we were the other night. Sure, I can't make a vast army like General Surgeon apparently can, but I afford to add some more firepower. I decide to make another Bot geared more towards domestic duties. I called him CabinBot and adjusted his leg motors so he stands about five inches shorter than the others. He's plucky and eager to vacuum. I'm proud of myself for thinking to make him.
Unfortunately, remaking my dead Bots and adding a new one has drained my spare parts cache. I'll need to add to the cash flow somehow. I don't really have a scheme planned which is pretty bad. I wish I could just go and knock over a bank but seriously, that gets you no respect. When America's Worse Villains puts together a montage of your exploits for their viewers/snitches to watch, you want to really wow them, not have endless pictures of you in a bank.
As you can imagine, coming up with creative crimes can sometimes put pressure on a gal. It's the super villain's equivalent of writer's block. Not only do I want to be flashy, but I also have to keep in mind that heroes might get invovoled, so I need hero-fighting plans ready too. The bank job is starting to look more attractive.
What's worse is that I am tense and needing a break from the hideout but I've devolped a slight phobia. I usually hit the strip clubs to relax, but after my near death experience known also as the month of December, I'm a little gun shy about hanging out with buff young men. Just thinking about bars is making me queasy and a little trigger happy. I'm afraid the first time a hot guy gave me a lapdance, I might shoot him before he infects me with his genetic engineered germ army.
Grrr, I don't know what to do. I've tried revenge, but so far, the computer I stole from Walker's corpse has been resistant to my hacking. I think I can break it in time, but my mind is so scattered right now. My nerves are a little shot and no matter how Rum and Cokes CookBot makes for me, I can't seem to chill out.
I'm going to add a massage program to CabinBot and try to chill.
posted by Shon Richards @ 1/12/2006 02:59:00 PM
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