"Blast this wretched ribbon! Julian? It appears you're not alone in
losing the battle of the bulge, hah hah! Would you kindly put yourself to
good use so that I may fit in this wristband?!"
For the last time, knock it off about the weight, Robotnik seethed to himself as he grabbed hold of the glorified belt's ends to try and fit about his uncle's waist. Of all the stupid things - why did Sir Walter insist on dressing up in a tuxedo when it was altogether absolutely unnecessary? Robotnik had explained to him about seventeen times that he was going to sit in the tower while they talked outside. Yet he'd insisted that things were done right, which meant things were done his way and only his way...
"Master!" interrupted a familiar voice.
"What is it, you - ahem, greetings, Cluck, what news do you bring?" And he couldn't even vent his temper as usual. The robot bird had been programmed to take abuse and not complain like a certain whiny nephew did, but this feature would go to waste since Sir Walter did not tolerate "temper tantrums," as he termed it.
"Well, Master, the hedgehog is on his way."
"Indeed," cut in Sir Walter. "And the sky outside is currently full of smog. Why don't you return when you have something less obvious to bother my nephew with?! Away with you!"
Cluck muttered something rather nasty under his breath that Robotnik couldn't help but chuckle furtively at.
"WHAT?!?!?"
"Um, I said, sir, that you are a young buck, uh, that is, you look like one." Oh, that was most certainly not what he'd said. That was what Robotnik loved so much about him - unlike Mecha Sonic and various other drones he'd built, this one had a bit of loyal panache to him, which could even override the extreme tolerance settings on him. It wasn't something that he'd duplicate any further, just an anomaly that occurred somehow in the programming that provided a bit of entertainment.
Hey - what if Snively had actually said that all these years when he'd been urged to speak up?! He was a dead dwarf when Robotnik found him again.
"Oh. Really. Well, thank you, my good lad. I've been often told that I'm strong enough to be a third of my age, and quite proud of it, I am, if boasting may be tolerated in good company." Cluck began to tiptoe outside hurriedly, as the Eggery had turned his back on him. "Why, give me a tree trunk of 10 years entrenched firmly in the ground, and right as rain it's as good as uprooted. And replanted of course." His arms were waving about as Robotnik struggled to fasten the whatever-it-was, making the task a bit harder. "I'll tell you a word of caution right now, Julian, nature is something to be protected and conserved. The hunt is my life, but I will not wipe out the countryside. Just the brute I'm looking for and that's it."
Robotnik had half a mind to forget the deal with the hedgehog and sic his uncle on him, as simple as that. Too bad Sir Walter would know the difference immediately between a rodent that talked and one that didn't.
"You know, I've half a mind to plant some trees around this burg. It'll be good for your health, you know. This air is horrible, just horrible on the lungs."
Trees. Health. Blecch. That was a definite signal to dump him on the rebels as soon as possible. How far had Cluck gotten without the old man noticing? Maybe he'd cleared the building altogether -
"Sir! The hedgehog is waiting for you downstairs," an intercom buzzed. Then again, he was probably too responsible for that.
"Splendid, that silicon sop finally said something useful. Well, I suppose I'll worry about this blight of a belt myself. You'd better go meet him, my lad. I'll be up here observing the proceedings."
"Thank you sir." Robotnik turned to leave.
"Now remember to stand up straight. And suck in that gut, as much as you can!"
"Of course, sir," Robotnik hissed through clenched teeth, and took about three steps towards the door.
"And for goodness' sake, don't you have anything better to wear?! Dignity is the key to diplomacy. Civilized in a civilized world, I always say."
"Yes, yes, I know!" Two more steps.
"Come now, that's no way to talk a fellow aristocrat. I'll hope you have better manners than that, talking to that young man downstairs. Why, he may think it's perfectly fine to behave boorishly in the court of the king, and..."
Robotnik finally made it through the doorway, letting his uncle blather on, and jogged with an adrenaline rush of not wanting to get roared at. The man reminded him so much of a professor he had once in college, whom he swore just liked to hear himself go on for hours on end. Hopefully, he'd soon forget whom he was talking to after a while and just carry on by himself. That was what he used to do so long ago anyways.
Eccentric old coot.
******************
"This is so freaky, this is so freaky, this is so freaky..."
Sonic couldn't help but repeat the words quietly over and over to himself as he stood in the belly of the beast, surrounded by what were usually his enemy, and all because his archnemesis, a threat to life in the world as he knew it, wanted to ditch an estranged uncle.
Sally wasn't going to believe him at all when he got back.
And now the Eggman descended the staircase, full of pomp and circumstance, as the SWATs stood in formation and held their guns up high. In the control room the tyrant had just left, what he thought was 'Buttnik's new lackey stood by some controls.
It was a mech chicken.
Seriously. Snively ought to be here just to see this silly thing that had replaced him at his duties. That, combined with Robotnik's usual attire, and SWATbots, yes, SWATbots, saluting both him and Sonic with their laser rifles held up in the air like something interesting was going on in the sky...he was going to have to let out a laugh at some point. This gaudy display was too much.
Now 'Buttnik made his way over to him, and the alarm in his head went off again, thinking the guy was going to try and nab him. Sonic waited tensely, looking for the sign to get moving, to take as many tin cans down with him as he could -
"Greetings, Frederick! I see you are well after your exploits and had a salubrious journey?" Robotnik grinned, more politely than Sonic thought possible.
"Huh? Frederick? What the - "
"Ust-jay ay-play along-yay," Robotnik hissed under his breath. "Ee- way are-yay eeing-bay iked-may." He nodded towards the control room window a floor up, where Sonic could make out a figure waving one hand excitedly at him.
Whoops. So the venerable gentleman was listening in? Okay, he had proof that this was actually for real. Sonic bit his lip to stifle a snicker.
"Oh, of course, your Regal-ness. It has been a long, yet rewarding, uh...soliloquy."
"You mean sojourn?" 'Buttnik asked.
"Uh, yeah, I mean yes, exactly. I've learned quite a lot."
"Indeed. Well, I must say, I have a surprise for you. It appears that you are not the only one to have returned from abroad. My uncle and a valued member of the court, Sir Walter Eggery, awaits you upstairs."
"How exquisite. It would be my honor to grate, er, greet him." He felt like kicking himself.
"Excellent, young Sir Frederick. Let us sally forth and have you introduced." Good heavens, was this what Sal had to go through when she was a kid? Sonic sure hoped not. Seeing as they were going steady, he didn't like the idea of acting like this all his life once things went back to normal once and for all.
Then again, this was 'Buttnik. Royalty, he wasn't.
"So far, so good," he heard his enemy whisper.
"Yeah. When are we gonna talk about what I'm getting out of this?" It sure was worth asking. Sure, this would make a great story and all when he got back, but aside from that, he wasn't doing this for his health.
"Shh! Not now! He can still hear us!"
"Oh, right, sorry."
Apologizing to Robotnik over something. Sonic's life had officially hit a new low.
*****************
Cluck adjusted his elbow socket and stood by in the control room, puzzled and fairly upset by the proceedings of the past two days. He wasn't programmed to take garbage from anyone but the Master nor allow it to waste space in his long-term memory, yet the old man had him the electronic equivalent of flustered.
He wasn't supposed to become annoyed, however. He was a cool, calculating machine; the Master had built him that way. The lack of logic was a bit too much for the circuits, so rather than try to compute it and risk blowing a resistor or something, he'd just let it be in his memory banks. It was probably something he hadn't calculated yet in his couple of months of existence.
At any rate, the enemy that was supposed to be a friend now - another thing that threw him for a loop - was ascending the stairs now with the Master at his side. Normally, his creator, also referring to himself as "the Great Robotnik," would rant and rave about strangling the entity referred to as a rodent, or doing something equally violent to this being. Cluck never really understood that either, but reasoned it was best to side with the Master.
And that had been sufficient - until now at least.
"Greetings, Cluck," the Master grinned. "Is Sir Walter appropriate for his introduction?"
Warning: bad input.
"Err..." he began. What could this mean? He was programmed to do something, anything, when given a weird statement or command, but this was highly abnormal. "He's dressed, if that's what you mean." Cluck eyed the rodent to make sure he wasn't going to do anything, and it responded by sneering back at him for a moment but nothing else.
"Wonderful. Will he meet us here, then?"
This too did not compute. Distressed, he responded with an illegal operation message that fit the situation.
"Sir? I thought you couldn't stand hearing him talk - "
"Silence!" was the hissed, barely audible command, accompanied by a slap across the beak that did not hurt but spun Cluck's head completely around on his neck about twice. "He can hear us!"
"Does the great Robotnik have a scheme in progress?" he responded, equally quietly, seeing as that was how the Master behaved at the moment.
"Yes, yes, of course! Open the bloody door and then you are dismissed! Don't come back or say a peep until I tell you to! Now buzz off!"
Well, then, that was more like it. Cluck did as ordered, allowing the two inside. Perhaps he meant the rodent to die by some fiendish treachery inside? No - he had been angry with the older man more so than the rodent of late. It finally dawned on him what the Master intended to do.
And he actually felt what could be described as glad about it. If that other gentleman didn't leave soon he would have Cluck carry sufficient luggage to short some circuits permanently. Plus the sheer disrespect from the man was beginning to frost said circuits. He didn't interpret either of these as good for his chassis.
Perhaps he'd inspect a factory or two while he was waiting. Cluck lifted his plasma pistol off the control box in front of him, just in case.
For the last time, knock it off about the weight, Robotnik seethed to himself as he grabbed hold of the glorified belt's ends to try and fit about his uncle's waist. Of all the stupid things - why did Sir Walter insist on dressing up in a tuxedo when it was altogether absolutely unnecessary? Robotnik had explained to him about seventeen times that he was going to sit in the tower while they talked outside. Yet he'd insisted that things were done right, which meant things were done his way and only his way...
"Master!" interrupted a familiar voice.
"What is it, you - ahem, greetings, Cluck, what news do you bring?" And he couldn't even vent his temper as usual. The robot bird had been programmed to take abuse and not complain like a certain whiny nephew did, but this feature would go to waste since Sir Walter did not tolerate "temper tantrums," as he termed it.
"Well, Master, the hedgehog is on his way."
"Indeed," cut in Sir Walter. "And the sky outside is currently full of smog. Why don't you return when you have something less obvious to bother my nephew with?! Away with you!"
Cluck muttered something rather nasty under his breath that Robotnik couldn't help but chuckle furtively at.
"WHAT?!?!?"
"Um, I said, sir, that you are a young buck, uh, that is, you look like one." Oh, that was most certainly not what he'd said. That was what Robotnik loved so much about him - unlike Mecha Sonic and various other drones he'd built, this one had a bit of loyal panache to him, which could even override the extreme tolerance settings on him. It wasn't something that he'd duplicate any further, just an anomaly that occurred somehow in the programming that provided a bit of entertainment.
Hey - what if Snively had actually said that all these years when he'd been urged to speak up?! He was a dead dwarf when Robotnik found him again.
"Oh. Really. Well, thank you, my good lad. I've been often told that I'm strong enough to be a third of my age, and quite proud of it, I am, if boasting may be tolerated in good company." Cluck began to tiptoe outside hurriedly, as the Eggery had turned his back on him. "Why, give me a tree trunk of 10 years entrenched firmly in the ground, and right as rain it's as good as uprooted. And replanted of course." His arms were waving about as Robotnik struggled to fasten the whatever-it-was, making the task a bit harder. "I'll tell you a word of caution right now, Julian, nature is something to be protected and conserved. The hunt is my life, but I will not wipe out the countryside. Just the brute I'm looking for and that's it."
Robotnik had half a mind to forget the deal with the hedgehog and sic his uncle on him, as simple as that. Too bad Sir Walter would know the difference immediately between a rodent that talked and one that didn't.
"You know, I've half a mind to plant some trees around this burg. It'll be good for your health, you know. This air is horrible, just horrible on the lungs."
Trees. Health. Blecch. That was a definite signal to dump him on the rebels as soon as possible. How far had Cluck gotten without the old man noticing? Maybe he'd cleared the building altogether -
"Sir! The hedgehog is waiting for you downstairs," an intercom buzzed. Then again, he was probably too responsible for that.
"Splendid, that silicon sop finally said something useful. Well, I suppose I'll worry about this blight of a belt myself. You'd better go meet him, my lad. I'll be up here observing the proceedings."
"Thank you sir." Robotnik turned to leave.
"Now remember to stand up straight. And suck in that gut, as much as you can!"
"Of course, sir," Robotnik hissed through clenched teeth, and took about three steps towards the door.
"And for goodness' sake, don't you have anything better to wear?! Dignity is the key to diplomacy. Civilized in a civilized world, I always say."
"Yes, yes, I know!" Two more steps.
"Come now, that's no way to talk a fellow aristocrat. I'll hope you have better manners than that, talking to that young man downstairs. Why, he may think it's perfectly fine to behave boorishly in the court of the king, and..."
Robotnik finally made it through the doorway, letting his uncle blather on, and jogged with an adrenaline rush of not wanting to get roared at. The man reminded him so much of a professor he had once in college, whom he swore just liked to hear himself go on for hours on end. Hopefully, he'd soon forget whom he was talking to after a while and just carry on by himself. That was what he used to do so long ago anyways.
Eccentric old coot.
******************
"This is so freaky, this is so freaky, this is so freaky..."
Sonic couldn't help but repeat the words quietly over and over to himself as he stood in the belly of the beast, surrounded by what were usually his enemy, and all because his archnemesis, a threat to life in the world as he knew it, wanted to ditch an estranged uncle.
Sally wasn't going to believe him at all when he got back.
And now the Eggman descended the staircase, full of pomp and circumstance, as the SWATs stood in formation and held their guns up high. In the control room the tyrant had just left, what he thought was 'Buttnik's new lackey stood by some controls.
It was a mech chicken.
Seriously. Snively ought to be here just to see this silly thing that had replaced him at his duties. That, combined with Robotnik's usual attire, and SWATbots, yes, SWATbots, saluting both him and Sonic with their laser rifles held up in the air like something interesting was going on in the sky...he was going to have to let out a laugh at some point. This gaudy display was too much.
Now 'Buttnik made his way over to him, and the alarm in his head went off again, thinking the guy was going to try and nab him. Sonic waited tensely, looking for the sign to get moving, to take as many tin cans down with him as he could -
"Greetings, Frederick! I see you are well after your exploits and had a salubrious journey?" Robotnik grinned, more politely than Sonic thought possible.
"Huh? Frederick? What the - "
"Ust-jay ay-play along-yay," Robotnik hissed under his breath. "Ee- way are-yay eeing-bay iked-may." He nodded towards the control room window a floor up, where Sonic could make out a figure waving one hand excitedly at him.
Whoops. So the venerable gentleman was listening in? Okay, he had proof that this was actually for real. Sonic bit his lip to stifle a snicker.
"Oh, of course, your Regal-ness. It has been a long, yet rewarding, uh...soliloquy."
"You mean sojourn?" 'Buttnik asked.
"Uh, yeah, I mean yes, exactly. I've learned quite a lot."
"Indeed. Well, I must say, I have a surprise for you. It appears that you are not the only one to have returned from abroad. My uncle and a valued member of the court, Sir Walter Eggery, awaits you upstairs."
"How exquisite. It would be my honor to grate, er, greet him." He felt like kicking himself.
"Excellent, young Sir Frederick. Let us sally forth and have you introduced." Good heavens, was this what Sal had to go through when she was a kid? Sonic sure hoped not. Seeing as they were going steady, he didn't like the idea of acting like this all his life once things went back to normal once and for all.
Then again, this was 'Buttnik. Royalty, he wasn't.
"So far, so good," he heard his enemy whisper.
"Yeah. When are we gonna talk about what I'm getting out of this?" It sure was worth asking. Sure, this would make a great story and all when he got back, but aside from that, he wasn't doing this for his health.
"Shh! Not now! He can still hear us!"
"Oh, right, sorry."
Apologizing to Robotnik over something. Sonic's life had officially hit a new low.
*****************
Cluck adjusted his elbow socket and stood by in the control room, puzzled and fairly upset by the proceedings of the past two days. He wasn't programmed to take garbage from anyone but the Master nor allow it to waste space in his long-term memory, yet the old man had him the electronic equivalent of flustered.
He wasn't supposed to become annoyed, however. He was a cool, calculating machine; the Master had built him that way. The lack of logic was a bit too much for the circuits, so rather than try to compute it and risk blowing a resistor or something, he'd just let it be in his memory banks. It was probably something he hadn't calculated yet in his couple of months of existence.
At any rate, the enemy that was supposed to be a friend now - another thing that threw him for a loop - was ascending the stairs now with the Master at his side. Normally, his creator, also referring to himself as "the Great Robotnik," would rant and rave about strangling the entity referred to as a rodent, or doing something equally violent to this being. Cluck never really understood that either, but reasoned it was best to side with the Master.
And that had been sufficient - until now at least.
"Greetings, Cluck," the Master grinned. "Is Sir Walter appropriate for his introduction?"
Warning: bad input.
"Err..." he began. What could this mean? He was programmed to do something, anything, when given a weird statement or command, but this was highly abnormal. "He's dressed, if that's what you mean." Cluck eyed the rodent to make sure he wasn't going to do anything, and it responded by sneering back at him for a moment but nothing else.
"Wonderful. Will he meet us here, then?"
This too did not compute. Distressed, he responded with an illegal operation message that fit the situation.
"Sir? I thought you couldn't stand hearing him talk - "
"Silence!" was the hissed, barely audible command, accompanied by a slap across the beak that did not hurt but spun Cluck's head completely around on his neck about twice. "He can hear us!"
"Does the great Robotnik have a scheme in progress?" he responded, equally quietly, seeing as that was how the Master behaved at the moment.
"Yes, yes, of course! Open the bloody door and then you are dismissed! Don't come back or say a peep until I tell you to! Now buzz off!"
Well, then, that was more like it. Cluck did as ordered, allowing the two inside. Perhaps he meant the rodent to die by some fiendish treachery inside? No - he had been angry with the older man more so than the rodent of late. It finally dawned on him what the Master intended to do.
And he actually felt what could be described as glad about it. If that other gentleman didn't leave soon he would have Cluck carry sufficient luggage to short some circuits permanently. Plus the sheer disrespect from the man was beginning to frost said circuits. He didn't interpret either of these as good for his chassis.
Perhaps he'd inspect a factory or two while he was waiting. Cluck lifted his plasma pistol off the control box in front of him, just in case.