Fox and his team spent the remainder of our journey to this planet they called Corneria staring in awe at my magnificent Machine. Oh, the spacecraft was a write-off, but everyone knew that. Interdimensional travel and interstellar combat, not to mention the fact that I’m not even any kind of pilot, tends to do that to a vehicle.
But my Machine! Oh, my tender, sweet Machine. Slippy, the bug-eyed retarded frog, couldn’t keep his eyes off of it. Kept talking about all the things he wanted to do to it. In bed . At night. On a lily pad. To be honest, I think I agree with Fox in branding him a fucking weird cunt.
Peppy kept taking hits off of a small clay pipe and muttering to himself. I was this close to asking him for a hit when suddenly the sound of alarms filled my ears. It sounded like the fucking apocalypse, and my hangover was certainly not helping any.
“What the fuck is that noise?” I screamed at my vulpine host.
“Atmospheric re-entry. We need to get combat-ready.”
“Certainly not. That craft of yours is useless and you certainly can’t have one of ours. No, you sit here. Rob 64 will take good care of you.”
I glanced over at the robot, who seemed to give me a wink and then went back to casually masturbating what looked like a kind of hose attachment near his waist. Fuck this, I thought to myself.
The whole fucking Star-Fox team “scrambled” to their ships. I watched in quiet amazement as these sleek, sharp vessels were catapulted from the launcher into the blue skies of Corneria, the pink glow of their so-called G-Diffuser engines reflecting off of the polished surfaces of the launch bay. I knew, there and then, that I had to have one.
I made my way up to the bridge, where Rob was supposed to be keeping an eye on the scanners and providing tactical assistance to the team. When I arrived he was sticking the hose attachment in to a port on the side of the computer and laughing. A substance not unlike cherry coke was all over the floor.
“I say,” I ventured. “Rob, old chap…”
Clearly enjoying himself, I decided now was the time to physically remonstrate with him. I grabbed his shoulders and pushed him to the floor, dislodging his hose attachment, spraying yet more fluid all over the floor at high speed, until I suppose the supply exhausted and it ran down to a mere trickle. Rob seemed crestfallen, not to mention ashamed that I had found out his dirty secret.
“What the fuck are you doing you filthy shit?” I asked him.
“I didn’t do nothing wrong!” he protested. “She was asking for it. She gave me consent!”
I regarded him closely.
“How” I said, “does a computer give consent?”
Rob sat up on what passed for his elbows and rubbed his nose.
“They make a noise,” he said. “A bit like this.”
He proceeded to emit a small electronic whine not unlike that made by a cyborg mouse with trapped wind.
“That’s it, is it?” I said. “That’s how you knew the computer gave consent? Because it made this noise?”
I imitated the sound as best I could.
“Is that it?”
Poor Rob seemed to be leaking lubricant from his joints. Fear gripped him. I almost felt sorry for him.
“You know what I think, Rob?”
He shook his tin-plated stupid fat head.
“You know what I think? I think you raped that computer.”
He let out a small filtered shriek.
“I think you raped it with your cock.”
He shook his head once more.
“I think you raped it in the interface with an artificial hose-like penis of your own creation.”
“You did. I saw you. And I’m willing to bet that Fox McCloud doesn’t even know about your penis…”
Looking deep into his scared, dilated optics, I knew I had the cunt bang to rights. He was as guilty as sin and would do anything I say.
“Please” he pleaded. “Please, don’t tell Fox. Anything but that. He’ll have melted down in to scrap! No one’s allowed to screw the computers! No one!”
He pulled himself towards me and fell at my feet, begging and licking, spraying cherry coke all over the shop. I kicked him in the face.
“Alright then” I said. “Alright. I won’t tell Fox. Your…sickness…can be our little secret, okay? Our little secret. If you’ll only do me one favour…”
“Anything! I’ll do anything!”
I smirked a little. A servile robot. How wonderful.
“Okay then. I won’t tell Fox, if you show me the hangar with all the exciting experimental Arwings. How about it?”
Rob 64 paused from his begging for a moment.
“One second” he said, and tapped a few keys on the side of his head. I felt the ship rock slightly.
“Location: Confirmed” he said. “Sending supplies.”
I watched as he shook his head and once more rejoined me in the room.
“Sorry. Slippy lost both of his wings and Falco needs more bombs. Fucking wankers.”
“Don’t worry son. Just show me the ships and you won’t have anything to worry about.”
“How do you even know there are any experimental ships?”
“Call it a guess.”
Rob 64, compliant little shit that he now was, began leading me downstairs…
Within minutes I was speeding away from the Great Fox in my snazzy new ship. It was black in colour, as befits a prototype, and boasted a magnificent swing-wing design and huge anti-matter cannons. Nevertheless, it was a tad cramped for my tastes. Placing the Machine near the console, I sat back and relaxed, rolling myself a cigarette and attending to my hip flask.
Seconds later the ship had transformed around me. Panels shifted and machinery groaned and twanged as it reformed into a shape far more pleasing to me; I now had at least three rooms including the now luxurious cockpit; a whirlpool bath in one of them and a queen-sized bed in the other. Unclipping my seatbelt, I ordered up a cocktail and prepared to plot a course when suddenly four small ships appeared on what I assumed was my radar.
My brand new ship was suddenly rocked with fire and I nearly spilt gin all over the leather seating. Fucking bastards. I was just about to return fire when suddenly my comms system burst into life.
On screen appeared a long, furry face and for a second I assumed Fox McCloud and his queer cronies had caught up to me after Rob had confessed the truth, but soon the reality became apparent. Here was not a foxy face, but a wolfen one!
“Attention intruder!” said the face. “You are now entering Venomian Airspace. Please prepare yourself for oblivion.”
There then followed a massive chuckle, and the sound of several switches being thrown. Pressing a button, I seized my chance.
“This is Brompton Rhodes of the planet Earth receiving you, Wolf-bloke. I hereby surrender utterly and completely.”
The radio emitted a kind of splutter, though whether it was the airwaves or Wolf-bloke I didn’t know.
“You what?” said the voice, eventually.”
“I said I surrender” I repeated. “Unconditionally. Now…”
I took the opportunity to re-light my cigarette in dramatic fashion.
“…Take me to your Leader…”
To Be Continued…