SHIPPY EX MACHINA 3!
by Dr. Seth
Jo and Mack jaunted happily into the Dark Horseís
kitchen to procure some whipped cream, and found Duane solemnly
drinking a non-alcoholic beer.
"Hey, whaterya doiní here?" Mack grunted.
"We just saw you with your ladyfriend down in Chinatown!" Joís
breasts had a habit of pointing in opposite directions when she was
confused because she never wore a bra, and they were practically
"What? Iíve been here the whole time! Iím trying to figure
out how to rescue Erika. Word is sheís been kidnapped and I just
gotta find out who did it." Duane smirked.
"But we just saw you with Erika!" Mack whined.
"That can only mean one thing! Since Iím being written by the
stupid people who wrote the magma men episode, and theyíre lazy and
are trying to cut corners, I will suddenly automatically know that
it was the Legion, and I will go to their semi-secret hideout!"
Duane leapt to his feet and ran to the Big Guy bay.
Big Guy and Rusty burst into the Legionís headquarters and
found a very, very strange sight. There, on an overturned robot that
had been hastily assembled into a makeshift couch, were what
appeared to be Duane and Dr. Slate, locked in a passionate embrace.
The Legion, obviously at the controls, stood there, embarrassed
beyond belief. Those who could see Duaneís face in the monitor could
see his jaw drop and his eyes widen in disbelief. Rustyís voice was
like a gunshot in the dead of night.
"SEEEEE!!! I TOLD YOU SO, BIG GUY!! DUANE AND SLATE! SITTING IN A
TREE! K-I-S-S-I-N-G!!" His voice echoed throughout the Legionís hideout.
"Itís not a date!!!" all of the Legionnaires shrieked in unison.
"FOR THE LOVE OF MIKE!!!!!" Big
Guy shook his mighty steel fists.
In a fit of desperation, Number One ripped off Number Fourís skin.
"Heís a naked robot now! You have to kill him! Itís Robot Rule Number
Four!" Number One cried out.
"What...what do you mean, Robot Rule Number Four?" Big Guy,
obviously still in shock, wasnít quite remembering the Five Rules
"Rule number one- Robots never hurt humans. Rule number two-
Robots must obey what humans tell them, except when it would conflict
with the first rule. Rule number three- A robot must protect itself
except when protection conflicts with the first and second rules.
Rule number four- When a robotís skin falls off, and itís evil, it
must die. Rule number five- Shut yer damn pie hole." The entire
Legion Ex Machina, Rusty, and even Dr. Slate chanted the Five Rules
of Robotics together.
"Gee, Big Guy, how can you forget the Robot Rules? Itís like
youíre almost human...." Rusty chided his large friend. "You know, I
always thought that you and Dr. Slate would have made a better
couple than her and Duane." This gave the Legionnaires an idea --
having Slate date Big Guy was practically like having Slate date Duane!
"What a great idea! For once, you said something that made
sense!" Number Three announced. Dr. Slateís eyes were bulging in
"Ummm...." Big Guyís baritone was reduced to a mere rumble.
"Robots donít date humans. Look, we just came here to rescue Dr.
Slate. You can just go on playing your weird robot games, and weíll
leave you in peace."
"Youíre no fun!" A naked Number Four groused.
"This is absurd!" Dr. Slate mumbled through her gag.
"Weíll make you a deal..." Number One steepled his fingers
together ominously. "Weíll leave New Tronic alone if you, the BGY-11,
agree to go out with Dr. Slate here."
"Sweet Jebuz!" Duane cried from within the cockpit. Well,
this would be better than nothing. He flicked on the microphone.
"Ok, Legion Ex Machina. Weíll play your little game!"
The Legionnaires all did cartwheels of joy around and
around and around...
Big Guyís massive fingers pinched the small wrought iron
chair and pulled it out from the matching table with a squeal.
Dr. Slate took her seat, and Big Guy, much too large to ever fit
into the tiny chairs, had to squat next to the table.
"Um, your menus..." A nervous waiter scampered into his
gigantic shadow and handed them both menus.
"So..." Big Guy tried to keep his voice low and intimate,
but it was impossible. "Nice little cafť."
"Letís just get this over with," Dr. Slate grumbled, warily
eyeing the Legion Ex Machina, all perched at the next table over,
watching the proceedings with dreamy expressions on their faces.
"Cue the cupid!" Number Four suddenly screamed.
"Oh, donít you think thatís a bit premature?" Number Two scowled.
"I just canít wait!" Number Four eagerly squealed as Rusty
swooped down, wearing only a diaper and some little fluffy cherubís
wings, and shot Big Guy with a little toy arrow.
(Yay! The bad fanfic is over! Sorry the endingís so lame, I
just couldnít think of any other way to end it...In fact, I wrote
further than the original story, so...eh.)
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