Battlebots and Andalites, the perfect combo!
By Super Hurricane, one of the many authors with too much free time.
(What? Am I the only one there who sees a perfect idea formed? Andalites build robots, and one will make one of their own on Earth, earth style, with a function that will astound everyone.This is one year back before Jake, Marco and Tobias did a disappearing act.)
My name is Mattar-Onfang-Uranger, a Andalite if you will. This is my second trip to the planet Earth, but this time it will be a few months instead of days. As I glanced up at the pale blue Earth sky with my stalk eyes, it started to drizzle. I proceeded to go down the "stairs" that the humans put in, and walked into a shelter. As soon as I got inside, it began to thunder and rain, much like the Yeerk home world, except no acid rain.
I am a very well known Andalite, a business one at that. My company exists on both the home world and on Earth, we manufacture Andalite grass seed to fields that burned down and for stylish reasons. I began to morph the human I was given about ten months ago, called "George". My back legs retracted as well as my tail, and I grabbed onto the balance bar with weak fingers. My front legs grew thicker, wider, as my hooves became longer and grew 5 extra "fingers" on each toe. Our scientists believe that the "toe" is their balance point. My chest ran over and grew a bit heavier, my fingers were going to give out but then they changed as my Hoort and Fistol fingers went back in my hand and the five fingers on each hand grew stronger and flexible. My eyes became rounder, as a human nose popped out of the middle of my slits. I was nearly human, as my head reformed and grew blond hair. Finally, the mouth, the delicious tasting speaking month that I haven't used for a while.
I walked out of the shelter as the storm died, and my personal white "limo" came up. The chauffeur came out and opened the door, I can assume he's being respectful. One of the Board Members in my company, Steve was there. Dressed in his fancy tux and pants like me, he had also a nearsighted problem in which he used thin lenses attached to long rods called "glasses". "Hi, boss, long time, no see."
I understood what he meant, I had looked into human classes and learned phrases, "Of course, and I haven't seen you either." I also learned to stop talking weird with mouth sounds, food is a different matter.
"Mind if I turn on the tube? It's Tuesday, at nine PM when you got there." He gestured with his hand to the 2-D square box people call TV's. I nodded my head and he turned it on to a channel called Comedy Central.
"Aww, man." He said.
"What?" I asked sharply.
"It's a re-run from last year." Said Steve. I looked at the 2-D box and saw a gray haired man reading from some cards in a black topped square arena with yellow decals all over.
"In the blue square, he's buff, he's tough, and he's calling your bluff, it's Biohazard!" he said, as I saw two humans, one standing on a box only 3 inches tall, with thin grey sheets on all four sides.
"And in the Red Square, he tears up robots like a blue hedgehog tears up schemes, call it up for Ziggo!" he gestured to a round nearly coned object with blades on either side and a antenna on the top.
Steve looked ready to change the channel but I stopped him, and asked, "What do you call these things?"
Steve shrugged, "Battlebots, I suppose." I was visually impressed that humans built things like those, but was shocked when Ziggo attacked Biohazard." You humans use your robots to destroy each other?"
He nodded, "Yep, but not totally destroyed, it's sort of like a wrestling match with weaponry, and you can be able to rebuild it."
The thought of this opened my mind to new possibilities, ideas never known to any andalite but myself. "Steve, I want to try this new 'sport'." Steve turned a shade of pale, shocked at what I said.
"W-what?!? Boss, this sort of thing lasts months. Besides, what about your meetings and appointments, I can't hold them all off." He said shakily. I waved my hand in his face, "Oh, Steve, who said I'M going to be in it? I just want to build a robot for it, that's all."
Steve thought about this, "Hmm, the battlebot might put us ahead in products, and the promotions will increase customers. Okay, we'll finance, you build and I'll find a driver."
"Make it a Andalite." I said, and he agreed, for it will take a highly skilled driver and fast thinking, a Andalite is the most capable for the controls I'm going to make.
The limo stopped, and we were at Grassy Field Co. Steve walked out and I followed, demorphing.
"There's just a few things you should know about Robot fighting on Earth. It's absolutely nothing like the Andalite homeworld. But we have a large reference to robots on Earth. Me and several chief mechanics will aid you so you know what's wrong with your robot."
With that, we began training for an event that will make American history.
By Super Hurricane, one of the many authors with too much free time.
(What? Am I the only one there who sees a perfect idea formed? Andalites build robots, and one will make one of their own on Earth, earth style, with a function that will astound everyone.This is one year back before Jake, Marco and Tobias did a disappearing act.)
My name is Mattar-Onfang-Uranger, a Andalite if you will. This is my second trip to the planet Earth, but this time it will be a few months instead of days. As I glanced up at the pale blue Earth sky with my stalk eyes, it started to drizzle. I proceeded to go down the "stairs" that the humans put in, and walked into a shelter. As soon as I got inside, it began to thunder and rain, much like the Yeerk home world, except no acid rain.
I am a very well known Andalite, a business one at that. My company exists on both the home world and on Earth, we manufacture Andalite grass seed to fields that burned down and for stylish reasons. I began to morph the human I was given about ten months ago, called "George". My back legs retracted as well as my tail, and I grabbed onto the balance bar with weak fingers. My front legs grew thicker, wider, as my hooves became longer and grew 5 extra "fingers" on each toe. Our scientists believe that the "toe" is their balance point. My chest ran over and grew a bit heavier, my fingers were going to give out but then they changed as my Hoort and Fistol fingers went back in my hand and the five fingers on each hand grew stronger and flexible. My eyes became rounder, as a human nose popped out of the middle of my slits. I was nearly human, as my head reformed and grew blond hair. Finally, the mouth, the delicious tasting speaking month that I haven't used for a while.
I walked out of the shelter as the storm died, and my personal white "limo" came up. The chauffeur came out and opened the door, I can assume he's being respectful. One of the Board Members in my company, Steve was there. Dressed in his fancy tux and pants like me, he had also a nearsighted problem in which he used thin lenses attached to long rods called "glasses". "Hi, boss, long time, no see."
I understood what he meant, I had looked into human classes and learned phrases, "Of course, and I haven't seen you either." I also learned to stop talking weird with mouth sounds, food is a different matter.
"Mind if I turn on the tube? It's Tuesday, at nine PM when you got there." He gestured with his hand to the 2-D square box people call TV's. I nodded my head and he turned it on to a channel called Comedy Central.
"Aww, man." He said.
"What?" I asked sharply.
"It's a re-run from last year." Said Steve. I looked at the 2-D box and saw a gray haired man reading from some cards in a black topped square arena with yellow decals all over.
"In the blue square, he's buff, he's tough, and he's calling your bluff, it's Biohazard!" he said, as I saw two humans, one standing on a box only 3 inches tall, with thin grey sheets on all four sides.
"And in the Red Square, he tears up robots like a blue hedgehog tears up schemes, call it up for Ziggo!" he gestured to a round nearly coned object with blades on either side and a antenna on the top.
Steve looked ready to change the channel but I stopped him, and asked, "What do you call these things?"
Steve shrugged, "Battlebots, I suppose." I was visually impressed that humans built things like those, but was shocked when Ziggo attacked Biohazard." You humans use your robots to destroy each other?"
He nodded, "Yep, but not totally destroyed, it's sort of like a wrestling match with weaponry, and you can be able to rebuild it."
The thought of this opened my mind to new possibilities, ideas never known to any andalite but myself. "Steve, I want to try this new 'sport'." Steve turned a shade of pale, shocked at what I said.
"W-what?!? Boss, this sort of thing lasts months. Besides, what about your meetings and appointments, I can't hold them all off." He said shakily. I waved my hand in his face, "Oh, Steve, who said I'M going to be in it? I just want to build a robot for it, that's all."
Steve thought about this, "Hmm, the battlebot might put us ahead in products, and the promotions will increase customers. Okay, we'll finance, you build and I'll find a driver."
"Make it a Andalite." I said, and he agreed, for it will take a highly skilled driver and fast thinking, a Andalite is the most capable for the controls I'm going to make.
The limo stopped, and we were at Grassy Field Co. Steve walked out and I followed, demorphing.
"There's just a few things you should know about Robot fighting on Earth. It's absolutely nothing like the Andalite homeworld. But we have a large reference to robots on Earth. Me and several chief mechanics will aid you so you know what's wrong with your robot."
With that, we began training for an event that will make American history.