Just a quick note, seeing as how this thing is full of inside jokes... I changed the spelling of Dwayne to Duane, cause it's my story and i like that spelling better. His last name is now Assface, not hunter. If it seems like I'm joking, I am. Ummm... if my story is hard to read because of something with the speech, as I've been told it can be, I'm sorry. I did not orginally intend on posting this anywhere, but some monsterous drunk with a big knife told me i had to... Oh well, that's it... enjoy...


Half-way through the night, Duane is woken from his sleep by the Big Guy signal. He frantically searches for his flight suit, pulls it on, and makes for the Big Guy, but stops short in his tracks. The once gleaming hunk of massive metal no longer stands in it's usual place. Tired and confused, Duane makes for his Bitchin' Camero and heads for QI. Screeching to a halt just outside the main doors, Duane leaps from his car and heads for Dr. Slate's lab. Panting, Duane slides through the door to the lab. "Erika, where the hell is the Big Guy?!" "What are you talking about, he's with you." "This isn't funny Erika." "Calm down, Assface, we'll just check the Big Guy vision monitor. Walking over to the console, Dr. Slate presses a few switches, and moments later is given a view of a rather odd sight indeed. In the cockpit, the usual view of pretty boy Duane is now replaced by a very pissed off looking Rusty. "Jeepers, Dr. Slate, you startled me." "Rusty, just what do you think you're doing?" "Gosh, I never thought the inside of Big Guy would smell like urine." (neither did I, seeing as how I didn't know Rusty could smell. How does Rusty smell anyways? terrible... {sorry, bad joke}) "Rusty," this time from Duane, "Why the hell are you inside of Big Guy?" "Gosh, you should know Duane. See, I got trapped while repairing him, and failed to get out before he was called into action." Dr. Slate turns to Duane, and whispers softly (is there any other way?), "We have a fix on his location. He's back at the mall. I want you to go there and try to talk him out of this." "Say no more, I'm on my way." He heads for the door. "Oh and Duane... be careful." "Sure thing." He quickly exits, leaving Dr. Slate alone with the Rusty on the screen. "Now Rusty, this is a very bad thing you've done. You're going to be in serious trouble when you get back. No video games for a week." "Sure as shootin'." "I hope you know you're worrying a lot of people right now, including me." "Gosh Dr. Slate, if I could produce tears, I think I would cry." "Good Rusty, I'm glad to see you know what you're doing is wrong." "Well, not exactly. I'm just going to really miss you. You and sweet Assface. Oh look, here he is now. Say Dr. Slate, what's this button with the picture of the Snickers do?" "Oh sweet Mike, no!" screams Dr. Slate. After driving for what seamed like hours, filled with thoughts of Rusty and how he must me feeling, Duane arrives at the mall, only to find Big Guy standing with elbow weapons extended, aimed right at him. "For the love of Mike, Rusty, what the hell are you doing?!" "Gosh Duane, I'm just seeing the world through your eyes. Getting a feel for your life," comes the reply. Big Guy's voice, yet with a hint of Rusty. "Listen, Rusty, I'm sorry. I would've told you if I could've. But I couldn't. Not even Dr. Slate knew for the longest time." "That's OK Duane, I understand. Classified information, right? Say Duane, what's this picture of Dr. Slate doing in here." "Would you come out of there Rusty, I need to talk to you face to face." "Well, golly, no Duane. I have somethings to take care of first." With this, he fires a few shots at Duane's feet, scaring him into running and hiding behind his car. "It's OK, Assface," booms Big Guy, "I'm not going to make it that quick for you." He runs towards Duane's hiding spot, throws the car aside, and grabs Duane with his massive hand, making escape for him impossible. "Son of a bitch Rusty, where are you taking me?" "That's classified information Duane. Just sit tight and enjoy the ride." The Big Guy-Rusty hybrid takes off at full speed, messing up Duane's usually perfect hair. After a few minutes of flight, they arrive at QI, landing fast and hard on the pavement outside. The Big Guy/Rusty, which will now be called Big Rusty Guy, heads for the front entrance. "Damnit Rusty, just what do you think you're doing?" screams an agitated Duane. "I'm using the front door Duane, and then I plan on taking the elevator. Something you never seamed to learn how to do. I just always thought it was a problem with Big Guy's innerworkings, but now I know it was just something your mother must've never taught you. Or maybe she just hid it from you." With Duane's feelings hurt, he now tries to struggle free, but to no avail. "Damn you Rusty, let me down." "Stop squirming worm, this won't take long, I promise..." The cute little couple make their way through the front door, down the lobby, and into the elevator. "Say, um, Duane. Can you push the button for the 17th floor, my fingers are a little too big." :Sure thing Rusty, I... Wait a minute, the 17th floor... That's where Erika is!" "Sure as shootin'. Now please, press the button." "No." "No?" "That's right, no. I won't do it." "Fine. I didn't want it to come to this, but I'll just have to make you." With this, Big Rusty Guy proceeds to use his free hand and grip Duane firmly by the arm." "For the love of Mike, Rusty, just what the hell are you planning on..." His question is cut short and replaced by a terrible scream. Big Rusty Guy has ripped his arm off, and is using it to press the button. "I wish you could see my face Duane, I'm wearing the biggest grin." "Fuck you, Rusty..." first in a small, whispy voice, but steadily growing louder. "Fuck you! You've gone crazy. You're in serious trouble. No video games for a month, maybe two." You know Duane, I'm growing tired of you." He takes the arm of our once handsome, perfect hero, and proceeds to beat him over the head with it until he becomes unconscious. "Thank Mike..." Arriving shortly at the 17th floor, Big Rusty Guy makes for Dr. Slate's lab, a one-armed man in one hand and his previously removed arm in the other. With an evil sort of laugh, he knocks on Dr. Slate's door with the once attached arm. She's opens the door slowly, then stands in shock at the sight standing at her door. "Hiya Dr. Slate, can we come in?" She promptly fants, Big Rusty Guy flings the blood-soaked limb through the open door, and scoops up Dr. Slate, getting blood all over her pretty new lab-coat. He then drops both of the unconscious bodies into chairs, and somehow manages to tie them to them. He then goes over to his favorite video game console, plops down in front of it, and waits for the two to awaken. A few minutes later, Dr. Slate awakens, nervous, sweaty, but at least still in one piece. She looks over to her one-armed amigo, then softly begins to cry. "Why Rusty, why are you doing this." "Huh...what... what did you say," says a distracted Big Rusty Guy. Much louder this time, "Why Rusty. What did he ever do you to? What did either of us ever do to you?" "Well, before I explain, let's wake up your little friend here. Hey Assface," slaps with torn arm, "Wake up Assface, I don't want to have to say this twice." "Damnit Rusty, would you quit waving that thing around. It's disgusting!" "Fine." He flings the arm across the room, where it lands with a dull thud. Duane slowly wakes, with hair still messy, and now bloody, arm still missing, and a headache worse than ever. "Ughhh... my head.... My Mike!!! My hair!" he screams. "Calm down Assface, it's not like you can do anything about it now. I believe you'll need two hands to fix that mess." "Damnit Rusty, stop it," yells the enraged Dr. Slate. "Calm down, Dr. Slate, I'm just trying to lighten the mood. Now, allow me to explain my situation. You see, I have beef with both of you. You, Dr. Slate. While you did create me, with I am thankful for, you have a major flaw in my design. My emotion grid." "But Rusty, that's not a flaw, it's a gift. It's a first in science. Where we failed with Big Guy, I have..." "Shutup! I don't want to hear it!" "Right, sorry. touchy subject." "Now, where was I... Oh yes. The flaw. You see, while emotions in a robot might be good and all, it's a terrible idea to give them to one that was made to fight. And the biggest mistake was that you gave me the mind of a kid. Gosh, you really messed up there. But I'm here now to correct that mistake, and make you pay for it. First you Dr. Slate. Then you Duane, you will suffer the most out of all of them." "Them?" inquires a frightened Dr. Slate. "Yes, them. There are many, many people on my list. Well, enough talk, time's a-wasting." The Rusty inside presses the candy button, which in turn opens the shoulder, and the massive cannon with-in escapes, aimed directly at Dr. Slate's head. "Say hello to Mike for me..."