BOMBING MALL: A CHOPPING MALL PSEUDOSEQUEL
By Quillon42
Only after so many beats beyond the innocuous exit of the official, final couple…a number of drones unknown to the embattled teens that overnight had begun to gather.
Unbeknownst to shoppers set to arrive in another couple of hours, the robots who remained went online, and they arranged to cut loose in the incoming, regular mall traffic.
But unbeknownst to the robots themselves…there were still some leftovers from the evening before, who were raring in turn to avenge themselves against the automatons.
Such was the starch that ran through the threads, of these children of the Eighties, that there was fabric that had been fireproof, and there were linens which could resist even lasers. Incidentally, the former was flaunted by one Suzie Lynn, a great friend to the Final Girl of Frizz who seemingly placed first in the fight to survive the night. As such, when Suzie's form was covered with flames after an earlier mech had fired upon a fuel can she carried, the resulting pain was only enough to make her pass out—but her body remained intact otherwise.
The latter lay upon the shoulders of Linda Stanton, who was apparently brought down by shots of light spat blindly by another bot. Linda was the one amongst the young women who played the default minority through statuses both marital and follicular. In addition to the fact that she was the only lady in the group to be married, what was also distinct about her was that, more or less through the magic of affirmative action around this time, it could be the case that a white girl whose tresses were black could actually play a significant role in a blonde-laden horror cast.
Rumbling through the Park Plaza Mall, the robots who remained had no idea what a significant role Linda would play now. (Not to mention Suzie as well, but anyway).
What was going on the evening before was that there were four couples fucking in the Plaza. Yes, four.
Of them, there was the libertine Leslie, and her meatheaded man Mike (played by a man who appeared here to be rather Cro-Magnetic, but who in real life as of recent times has actually directed at least one episode of Agents of SHIELD (look it up)). There was the aforementioned, matrimonially-indisposed Linda, enduring her lifelong setback of black hair, as her murderously-mulleted husband Rick. There was the abovereferenced Suzie, and her beau Greg whose teeth were bucked enough to make the Cliffs of Dover look like curbstones in contrast.
The fourth, as we well know, was not Alison Parks with her science-fair-volcano of curls, nor Ferdy Meisel, with each bifocal lens he sported larger than the friggin' computer screen through which this author viewed the source film on Youtube for this story. No; in the roll call of mall fornicators—which was executed in-film with the thespianic blocking technique of an arthouse one-act play, each girl displaying her generous physiological wares to the audience before retiring to bed with her respective beefy beau—Alison and Ferdy were exempt from participating, as they instead committed to the celibacy of science-fiction viewing in the corner of said stage sets of sexual orgy.
The other copulating couple, in fact, was the pair of robots not accounted for in this opus whose original title Killbots was lost to the ravages of time. Said robots were special models built with certain…intimate parts, respectively male and female, as a joke by that one technician in the control room who watched over them and whose time was given more to perusing pornography magazines than pursuing his vaunted profession.
That maybe-a-man—or his corpse, rather—was now stuffed in an inconspicuous corner of said control room, homicidal automatons hiding him there before terrorizing the titillated teens delineated above. These teens, once their ranks were thinned out, eventually conspired to reach that control room—but given the violence with which they were faced, they improvised an impromptu stand against the machines instead, three out of the five remaining having fallen in the endeavor. Or so it seemed.
As it would turn out, now, that control room would be reached after all—and not by the virtuous, virginal Final Couple of Ferdy and Alison, as they walked off arm in arm to enjoy the first day of the rest of their robotless lives outside the mall.
No…the sweethearts who would actually reach that room were the fraus of starchy fabric, as mentioned before—Suzie who was seemingly felled by fire, and Linda who was allegedly laid out by lasers. It was the case that, now, the malebot was recharging in the room, the synthetic thing watching the walkways of the mall idly, waiting for the incoming traffic of the day. Outside the control area, the femalebot was going for a constitutional patrol-stroll, she on the beat all ready to blow away whatever babes and beaus would dare come near the area she and her fellow "Protector" bots were supposed to "protect."
It was as the malebot began to turn his sucky, sable head to the left…
That he caught the tire iron full in the face from Linda, the minority blackhead. As demonstrated in the film itself, the lady of the lasers was handy with automobiles, even moreso than her soulmullet husband—and she certainly was no slouch with the tools involved otherwise.
As the machine fell into a gadgety equivalent of falling unconscious, said Linda, tossing away the tire iron and reaching for something else:
"Despite the redacted title to our little shindig, there wasn't really any…'Chopping' going on, this evening.
"But I've got just the thing to remedy that…"
When the malebot came to, he was now out in the plaza proper—and facing directly across the way was his lady, femalebot love. He processed in his mind to roll on over on treads to said love—but he found that in the place of said treads was some kind of plaster cast. He then considered lashing out with his steel pincers—but he discovered to his mechanized dismay that he was literally and metaphorically unarmed, an automated amputee indeed—as was his de facto wife meters away.
He then instinctively looked down once more, and found that it wasn't just his legs that were missing.
"Yep," said a now-familiar, non-blonde voice. The malebot looked over and discovered the dame with his two pincer-arms, and that most important, intimate limb of his, held tightly to the woman's chest.
"I took it upon myself to engage in some CHOPPING, in order to make our tale all the more accurate, you understand," Linda raved in a most enraged tone. She nodded over to a spot a few feet away, and the malebot followed the prompt to see a well-oiled axe lying on the mall tile.
Said lubricant upon the implement being, of course, the manmade monster's own lifeblood.
"ARRRGARRRGARRRGARRRGARRRGARRRG," emitted the electronic entity now, his head spinning with a vicious rapidity, the malebot only now washed over with the misery of the maiming that he endured while unconscious.
This synthesized screaming was then cut off by the alighting of a blonde who was once ablaze. She stepped out of the darkness behind an elevator to stand on a landing overlooking a fountain in the Plaza.
"Ohhh, come on," chided Suzie Lynn, the back of her clothing especially blackened from earlier on, but her flesh still as fair as ever. "Aren't you having any fun? It's like I said to Alison, hours ago: this evening would be bitchin'. Just good times to the max.
"In fact…I would go so far as to say it's been…balls to the mall."
The malebot moaned mechanically all the more as he noted the twin spheres the young lady gripped within her fists.
"Don't worry yourself none…I been subjecting these little ball bearings to a niiice upgrade. Hollowed them out and filled them—with the same kind of flammable fuel that one of your fucker brothers tried to do me in with!"
Suzie took another step, closer to the railing of the elevated landing. The malebot could begin to hear, below, the faintest yet most familiar cries from something that he perceived to be the innocent things in his limited mallworld.
[WAAAHWAAAHWAAAHWAAAHWAAAHWAAAH]
"I'm going to put thee suckers to goooood use, don't you worry," Suzie said, as she held her emballed hand out over the landing railing. "It's time for your youngens to have a little…balls-out blast of a brunch.
And then, in imitation of the Final Girl Alison's fatality-punchline, to mock the terrorizing robots:
"Have a nice dayyy [ay] [ay] [ay] [ay] [ay]…"
Even the echo incorporated into Alison's byline was present here, reverberating through the artificial mall air as
"NOOONOOONOOONOOONOOONOOO…"
in spite of the malebot's cries, Suzie dropped the two tech-testicles from her outstretched hand, the fuel-constipated makeshift man-grenades finding purchase in the bowels of the fountain below…
…which was itself filled with kerosene, as well as with the five robobabies which the malebot and the femalebot put forth into the mall over the course of the last few hours. Because when it came to mating, robots were even readier than effing rabbits.
The blonde dove forward after she dropped the balls, she beating for the mall's floor beyond the landing as
[BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMM]
the ensuing explosion erased the aforementioned offspring, the manufactured fetuses taken out of this cruel world with the very same spheres that brought them into it.
"WAAAWAAARRRGGGHHHWWWAAAAAARRRGGGHHH!"
It was hard at that juncture to tell which was screaming louder: the castrated malebot; the mastected femalebot, with her chest flattened most forcibly thanks to the efforts of the blonde and the token minority blackhead; or the invented infants who were literally becoming scrapped for spare parts by the blast below.
The femalebot in particular would not have long to grieve, for certain, as now said blackhead Linda was aiming, with help from a pincer-arm, the malebot's most potent member rather horizontally directly at the she-thing's leveled chest.
"I'm sure you loved this steel…support as it probed deep inside you, to make your innocent, now erstwhile children," Linda said, as both malebot and femalebot now realized that the former's intimate thingamajig was now converted by the raven-haired grease monkey into an off-the-cuff rocket, and the pincer in hand was the launcher.
"Now it's gonna be verrry deep inside of you.
"Have a nice dayyy [ay] [ay] [ay] [ay] [ay]…"
[SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMM]
The malebot could once again only look on in horror as his detached, mechanized dick dashed across the air and struck his wife square in her disfigured chest, the resulting blast driving her
against the back wall, her Burbank-built body
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRGGGGGHHHHH!"
bursting entirely into flame as it made contact with the brick face, the automated lady a second later crumpling forward facefirst to the ground, then crawling a few steps aflame—just as Suzie did before her apparent death, hours ago—all this to the satisfaction of Linda as well as to the aggrandized gratification of Suzie herself.
After the two girls and the one miserable malebot spent a few more moments witnessing this horror, the former turned gleefully to converge on the latter.
"And now, there's just you," said Suzie, she approaching with another pair in hand…what he realized a beat later to be his femalebot lady's mechanical mammaries themselves, seemingly rigged with the springs of the tasers built into the bots…
…as well as some kind of small, white mushy packaging on the undersides.
"Some C4…for the C3PO!" cackled Linda triumphantly as Suzie knelt to place a femalebotboob on either side of the malebot's plaster cast. She stood there smugly, arms wrapped around her plaid-flanneled chest, as her blonde buddy punched a few keys on the face of the attached explosive, then hopped away to stand aside the black-haired white-maiden minority.
"We know you 'Protector' bots really wanted the best for us all," Suzie menaced, as she stood arm in arm with Linda, "but I'd say that this development is better…protection than anything our men could have used, in the furniture store."
They turned on their heels, by now chanting it over their shoulder. Or almost, as they were kind of sick of it by now.
"Have a nice d…
"Ahhh, fuck it… [uck it…][uck it…][uck it…][uck it…][uck it…]…"
Linda noticed Suzie scooping something up quickly before the girls ran from
[BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM]
the oncoming blast. She waited till the two were near to the exitway—then also noticed that her new best friend wasn't looking to leave just yet.
"What's that you have there?"
Suzie turned the femalebot's somewhat-charred face-dome over in her hands. "Ahhh, Linda…I just figured that, if we can get over to the electrocuted janitor, maybe we could grab his mop and use the grayish strands of it to make a new head for Leslie." Miss Lynn thought of Meathead Mike's squeeze, and how vapid and vacant she was. "God knows that people wouldn't be able to tell the difference anyway."