Chapter 3: Naked Butts and Metal Hands
And if you're guilt, then I'm the shame
And if I'm hurt, then you're the blame
---Sneaker Pimps "Waterbaby"
"Guess what happened next in "Lolita's Hard Work?" The white dog asked at the breakfast table the next morning.
"What Ernie?" asked the ugly blue hawk.
"Lolita just got boned by three guys. At once!"
"Damn, Lolita should come here," said Sleuth.
"Well, there was some excitement in cueball's cell last night," Drago spoke up.
I looked up from my tray and glared at him.
"Cueball did a little 'banana-peeling' last night."
The entire table laughed.
Drago spoke again, still chuckling. "First he begged me for a BJ, but I said 'no way, ya little creep'. Then he said 'ok, a handjob then'. I was like 'no! I ain't touchin' ya, ya faggot!"
"Then what?" asked Ernie, the white dog. I was squeezing my fork in my fist, wondering if I could reach Drago across the table, and how hard I'd have to stab to reach his heart.
"Then he tried Flying Frog, but he said no too, I mean, he ain't no fag. So cueball decided to bang the bed instead."
They laughed even louder. I tried to look angry, but humiliation took over and I hung my head, cheeks red.
I was still sitting that way when the guards came by. But they didn't lead us back to our cells. Instead we headed down another hallway.
"Where are we going?"
"The shower," said Drago. "And don't ya try anythan'."
"You are such a prick, Drago. Why did you have to say all that stuff?"
"Because it was funny."
"Stop talking," growled Marshe.
I looked into the shower room. It was a typical shower room. Tiled floor, lots of shower heads along the walls. There was a heavy door with a bar on it. I guess they locked us inside the shower room. I didn't like that idea. In fact, I didn't like the idea of getting naked in front of these guys. They had fur at least...
The other inmates unzipped their uniforms and threw them in a big pile on the floor. They wandered into the showerroom, their feet slapping against the ceramic tile.
Marshe and Smiley and some other guard looked at me.
"What are you waiting for?"
I looked into the shower room again. I was afraid to go in there. What if they tried to hurt me? What if they tried to...
"Get in there," said Marshe.
I didn't like being dirty, but still...
"Am I gonna have to rip those clothes off you?" Marshe took a step towards me, looking like he would enjoy it.
I took a step back. "Fine..."
I kept a good grip on the bar of soap Smiley had given me. I know it's silly...that old 'don't drop the soap' cliché, but still, I wasn't chancing anything.
"Awww man! Sniv' tried to buttram me!" shrieked Ernie. Laughter echoed off the walls. I glared, trying to wash off fast in hopes of getting out of there quicker.
I'd expected a lot of teasing of my body, but there wasn't any. The others seemed more intent on washing themselves, and not looking around too much. Good. I did the same.
When I did glance around quickly to assure nobody was coming after me, I noticed there was a big glass window between the shower room and the dressing room. I was disturbed that Marshe was staring at everybody with a weird smile on his face. His eyes met mine and I saw his tongue come out, and wiggle a little bit. I turned away, but I could still feel his gaze on me. Great. Like I need more problems.
The guards had a pile of folded clothes when we came out. Clean clothes until the next shower, I assume. As we toweled off, the guards called off numbers from the breast pocket of the clothes.
"Number 78."
"Over here." Ernie reached out his hands and the guards gave him his new clothes.
I got my new pair. There was a white undershirt, made up of long-underwear material. The uniform itself was a grayish-blue pilot-type suit, with a zipper. There was a pair of socks, and some black boots. My number was 212.
I hopped around trying to get the socks onto my feet, and accidentally crashed into Sleuth.
"Get offa me!" he howled, and shoved me hard. I crashed into the wall, and then my sockless foot slipped on the tile. I ended up on the floor, my left hand slamming into the metal leg of one of the benches. The metal on that bench leg was sharp! I knew my hand was cut before I looked at it.
I looked at the cut. It tingled in that numb way which usually meant a deep cut. But this cut wasn't that bad. I saw a glint of metal and realized, this was my robotic hand. No wonder I didn't feel any pain. That skin wasn't real; just looked it. Only had minimal nerve endings, enough to feel damage, but not pain.
Marshe pulled me up, but he didn't notice my wound. Good.
Back in the cell, I laid on my bed, with my sheet wrapped around my hand. Although it wasn't bleeding, it was just an old habit of mine to put pressure on a wound. I knew how to take care of myself. Living with Robotnik, I had to learn to tend to minor injuries. Things like stopping bleeding, popping dislocated limbs back into place, you know. That sort of thing.
Drago flipped through his porn magazine, but soon looked up from it.
"Man, I wish the cart came around more. Already looked through all these. Need some new babes."
"I thought you never got tired of that junk."
"Yeah, sometimes I do, cueball. Not tired of nudies, course, but tired of the same nudies over and over."
"What did your girlfriend say about your porno obsession?"
"Aw, she was cool with it. She got good lovin', she wasn't complainin'. 'Sides, man, she didn't know about it. Girlfriends don't hafta know everythan. But ya wouldn't know anything about that. Ya probably never had a girl in yer whole life."
I didn't say anything. Granted, I HAD had girlfriends. None of those relationships had lasted too long. I just don't have the skill needed to commit to, and love another being like that.
"Never had a girlfriend, eh? What about a boyfriend? Had plenty of those, I bet."
"SHUT UP!" I yelled at him. He smiled in an infuriating manner. My calm fled from me, leaving me exploding with rage. I shook my fist at Drago, snarling, but he merely scoffed and laughed.
Suddenly, his mocking look changed to something different; something suspicious and even angry. His hand shot out, grabbing my hand through the bars. I struggled but he pulled me towards him. I couldn't see what he was doing with my head pressed sideways against the bars.
I let out a shriek when I felt him probing my wound. It didn't hurt, but it was a shock. I heard a little clink as his claws touched the metal beneath the false skin.
"The hell...?" he muttered. He growled and shoved me away. I landed on the floor, and got up indignantly, brushing myself off.
"What the hell was that all about?"
"Yer a robot!" Drago exclaimed.
"I am not!"
"Yer a cyborg, then!" he accused. "I hate cyborgs."
"I'm not a cyborg," I said. "Just my hand is roboticized. But Robotnik wanted it to look real, that's why there's skin."
"So Robotnik did it to ya, eh?"
"Yes."
"Tell us. We need a good story. Right, Frog?"
"Yeah," said the frog. He sounded half asleep.
"It's hardly good," I sighed, recalling the event...
So, I was actually out of the city at the time, and I had captured a group of Mobians. After the thick smog air of the city, which my lungs have long since adapted to, the clean forest air seemed intense, and I was feeling quite heady. I had two SWATs, one which I was worried about, because it kept malfunctioning. I also had a nice plasma rifle with me and so we had herded them into a group. I was telling them that they were going to be roboticized; basically making my cheap-villain speech.
They weren't impressed, and I caught the eye of this female. Her head was tilted and her neck long and supple...her fur a light light yellow, like gold. She was some sort of weasel thing, maybe a mink. But she was absolutely stunning. Her eyes, they were a dark tidepool blue and narrowed, filled with the shadows and light of the forest.
And the way she looked at me...it was such a violent contempt, like she'd love to tie me up by the balls and use me for a punching bag. For some reason that caused a stirring in my pants and my eyes wandered all over her golden breasts and powerful legs.
I was about to start leading them to Robotropolis...hoping I would get to interrogate the mink-girl, when two things went wrong.
I felt a stinging in my neck...there was a mosquito there. The little bastard was happily draining my jugular vein. I smacked it and then heard a whirring noise. It was the bot malfunctioning. I glanced over at it, and the distraction of mosquito and SWAT was very unhealthy for me.
The Mobians broke loose and took down the good SWAT with ease. Most of them ran off; a few stayed around to thoroughly trash and rip apart my SWATs. The golden female strode my way, and I could've blown her away with one squeeze of my finger. I didn't. She came right up to me, looked down. Her eyes were hate-containers...filled to the brim.
"Overlander," she hissed and then she drew her foot back. I probably should've done something, like moved...but no.
I allowed her to kick me full force in the groin. I allowed her to flee. I just collapsed, curled up like a fetus and wondered if I should be feeling this much pleasure from pain...
Robotnik was very unhappy. Which is nothing new. I told him about the escape, voice trembling and my sweat-slicked hands wringing together.
"Oh Snively," he growled in the voice which meant he was about to hurt me. "You let them get away?"
"It was an accident, sir," I whined.
He suddenly smacked me. My cheek stung, my eyes watered.
"That was an accident too!" he screamed.
I just whimpered.
"Why did ya take that crap?" Drago broke in.
Retard. I glared at him. "What was I supposed to do? Overpower him with my massive strength?"
Drago smirked. "Ya coulda dodged or something."
D is for Drago...and for dumb. Which is what Drago is. Dumb and ugly. He had muscles. He was big. There was no way he could understand my situation.
"I couldn't dodge," I said coldly. "For one, it would only make Robotnik angrier. For two...I couldn't move. I was too scared to move."
"Too scared?" he scoffed.
"Yes...haven't you heard of 'paralyzed by fear'?"
"Me? No."
I shook my head and continued my story.
Robotnik's fist was big. It cast a shadow over my face, which was locked in my 'forgive me' mode. That consisted of wide eyes and pouty lips and even a few tears on my cheeks. The fist lowered. I was saved.
Not quite.
"This is the perfect opportunity, Snively..."
I gulped. Because when he was mysterious like this...it was bound to be bad for me.
"Come along." He growled and strode from the room. I had no choice but to follow.
We were standing in the roboticization room.
"Sir...w-what are we d-d-doing in here?" I asked. My voice was shaking badly, because Robotnik had threatened me with roboticization before.
"Come here," he said, and led me to one of the smaller roboticizers. It was used for experimenting on prisoners.
"Put your hand in there," he demanded.
Roboticization hurt. I knew it did. It was like a woman giving birth...I'd never experienced it but I knew it hurt, and I knew I'd never want to experience it. My instant reaction was fear.
"No!" I cried. "No!"
"Do it!" he commanded.
"No!"
"DO IT!" He grabbed for me. I was so frantic, I wrenched away. Robotnik was a fat bastard, but he wasn't slow. He lunged for me, his meaty hands closing around the back of my shirt. He yanked me back and I struggled.
"Let me go! Let go!"
"Stop it!" he growled. Wasn't used to holding me when I fought. But he could stop me. He closed his hand around the back of my neck. He was good, that one. Got all the pressure points and I went limp. He took my hand and put it on the platform.
"Sir, please, sir..." I was really crying now. Terror made me a whimpering mess...longing to curl into a small safe place.
"Now stay still," he growled, "Or you'll get your arm too." And he flipped the button.
A force held my hand down. I couldn't pull it away. The blue light filtered over my skin. I'd always seen it from a distance; this close up I saw the light had glittery spots in it. It was almost beautiful.
Then my hand prickled, like tiny needles were stabbing me, and then an unbearable pain began. It was like...like my finger-bones were filled with water, and this water was freezing and expanding and soon my bones would shatter from the pressure.
"AhhhhhGodddddddd!" I screamed. I thrashed helplessly, but the pain wouldn't go. Now my skin was stretching and breaking, and there was a fine spray of blood. My eyes saw metal. My hand was metal! Robotnik shut down the machine and I collapsed to my knees, sobbing.
Robotnik pulled me up. My knees knocked together, so he had to hold me up by the back of the collar. He grabbed my hand and examined it.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?"
I was crying too hard to reply.
He snorted and let me fall back to the floor.
Later on, he put a few devices in my new hand. It included a com link that connected to one in his robotic arm. He said if he ever needed help (Which is highly unlikely, you little wretch!), he could call me on my hand. I thought that was funny, for a couple of reasons. First of all, I never expected to be able to use my hand like a walkie-talkie...second of all, he never said I could call HIM. Oh no. If I needed help, he probably wouldn't even answer.
I added my own modifications secretly in the following years. It wasn't that bad, not after Robotnik gave me skin on the hand. It looked real, just like Packbell looks like a real human. Sometimes I forgot it was roboticized. All in all, it was all right. I certainly could pack a mean left punch now.
"That wasn't very nice of him," said Flying Frog.
"No kidding," I said.
"But since you have it, can you use it to get outta here?"
Hmmmm. I never thought of that. How stupid of me. I tried to bend one of the bars enough to squeeze through. But it didn't budge. Just my hand was robotic, not my arm...so there wasn't any power behind it. I tried to punch the bar, in hopes of making it yield. But nothing worked.
I activated the com link and tried that. "If you hear this, come in! I repeat, if you hear this, come in!"
Drago and Flying Frog waited. Through the link I could hear the quiet rush of static. No answer. But what had I expected? Robotnik was dead.
"It's no use. We're stuck here."
"Man...I was thinkin' maybe ya did have some use. Guess not." Drago snorted and picked up his magazine again.
I sat down on my bed.
This sucked.
And if you're guilt, then I'm the shame
And if I'm hurt, then you're the blame
---Sneaker Pimps "Waterbaby"
"Guess what happened next in "Lolita's Hard Work?" The white dog asked at the breakfast table the next morning.
"What Ernie?" asked the ugly blue hawk.
"Lolita just got boned by three guys. At once!"
"Damn, Lolita should come here," said Sleuth.
"Well, there was some excitement in cueball's cell last night," Drago spoke up.
I looked up from my tray and glared at him.
"Cueball did a little 'banana-peeling' last night."
The entire table laughed.
Drago spoke again, still chuckling. "First he begged me for a BJ, but I said 'no way, ya little creep'. Then he said 'ok, a handjob then'. I was like 'no! I ain't touchin' ya, ya faggot!"
"Then what?" asked Ernie, the white dog. I was squeezing my fork in my fist, wondering if I could reach Drago across the table, and how hard I'd have to stab to reach his heart.
"Then he tried Flying Frog, but he said no too, I mean, he ain't no fag. So cueball decided to bang the bed instead."
They laughed even louder. I tried to look angry, but humiliation took over and I hung my head, cheeks red.
I was still sitting that way when the guards came by. But they didn't lead us back to our cells. Instead we headed down another hallway.
"Where are we going?"
"The shower," said Drago. "And don't ya try anythan'."
"You are such a prick, Drago. Why did you have to say all that stuff?"
"Because it was funny."
"Stop talking," growled Marshe.
I looked into the shower room. It was a typical shower room. Tiled floor, lots of shower heads along the walls. There was a heavy door with a bar on it. I guess they locked us inside the shower room. I didn't like that idea. In fact, I didn't like the idea of getting naked in front of these guys. They had fur at least...
The other inmates unzipped their uniforms and threw them in a big pile on the floor. They wandered into the showerroom, their feet slapping against the ceramic tile.
Marshe and Smiley and some other guard looked at me.
"What are you waiting for?"
I looked into the shower room again. I was afraid to go in there. What if they tried to hurt me? What if they tried to...
"Get in there," said Marshe.
I didn't like being dirty, but still...
"Am I gonna have to rip those clothes off you?" Marshe took a step towards me, looking like he would enjoy it.
I took a step back. "Fine..."
I kept a good grip on the bar of soap Smiley had given me. I know it's silly...that old 'don't drop the soap' cliché, but still, I wasn't chancing anything.
"Awww man! Sniv' tried to buttram me!" shrieked Ernie. Laughter echoed off the walls. I glared, trying to wash off fast in hopes of getting out of there quicker.
I'd expected a lot of teasing of my body, but there wasn't any. The others seemed more intent on washing themselves, and not looking around too much. Good. I did the same.
When I did glance around quickly to assure nobody was coming after me, I noticed there was a big glass window between the shower room and the dressing room. I was disturbed that Marshe was staring at everybody with a weird smile on his face. His eyes met mine and I saw his tongue come out, and wiggle a little bit. I turned away, but I could still feel his gaze on me. Great. Like I need more problems.
The guards had a pile of folded clothes when we came out. Clean clothes until the next shower, I assume. As we toweled off, the guards called off numbers from the breast pocket of the clothes.
"Number 78."
"Over here." Ernie reached out his hands and the guards gave him his new clothes.
I got my new pair. There was a white undershirt, made up of long-underwear material. The uniform itself was a grayish-blue pilot-type suit, with a zipper. There was a pair of socks, and some black boots. My number was 212.
I hopped around trying to get the socks onto my feet, and accidentally crashed into Sleuth.
"Get offa me!" he howled, and shoved me hard. I crashed into the wall, and then my sockless foot slipped on the tile. I ended up on the floor, my left hand slamming into the metal leg of one of the benches. The metal on that bench leg was sharp! I knew my hand was cut before I looked at it.
I looked at the cut. It tingled in that numb way which usually meant a deep cut. But this cut wasn't that bad. I saw a glint of metal and realized, this was my robotic hand. No wonder I didn't feel any pain. That skin wasn't real; just looked it. Only had minimal nerve endings, enough to feel damage, but not pain.
Marshe pulled me up, but he didn't notice my wound. Good.
Back in the cell, I laid on my bed, with my sheet wrapped around my hand. Although it wasn't bleeding, it was just an old habit of mine to put pressure on a wound. I knew how to take care of myself. Living with Robotnik, I had to learn to tend to minor injuries. Things like stopping bleeding, popping dislocated limbs back into place, you know. That sort of thing.
Drago flipped through his porn magazine, but soon looked up from it.
"Man, I wish the cart came around more. Already looked through all these. Need some new babes."
"I thought you never got tired of that junk."
"Yeah, sometimes I do, cueball. Not tired of nudies, course, but tired of the same nudies over and over."
"What did your girlfriend say about your porno obsession?"
"Aw, she was cool with it. She got good lovin', she wasn't complainin'. 'Sides, man, she didn't know about it. Girlfriends don't hafta know everythan. But ya wouldn't know anything about that. Ya probably never had a girl in yer whole life."
I didn't say anything. Granted, I HAD had girlfriends. None of those relationships had lasted too long. I just don't have the skill needed to commit to, and love another being like that.
"Never had a girlfriend, eh? What about a boyfriend? Had plenty of those, I bet."
"SHUT UP!" I yelled at him. He smiled in an infuriating manner. My calm fled from me, leaving me exploding with rage. I shook my fist at Drago, snarling, but he merely scoffed and laughed.
Suddenly, his mocking look changed to something different; something suspicious and even angry. His hand shot out, grabbing my hand through the bars. I struggled but he pulled me towards him. I couldn't see what he was doing with my head pressed sideways against the bars.
I let out a shriek when I felt him probing my wound. It didn't hurt, but it was a shock. I heard a little clink as his claws touched the metal beneath the false skin.
"The hell...?" he muttered. He growled and shoved me away. I landed on the floor, and got up indignantly, brushing myself off.
"What the hell was that all about?"
"Yer a robot!" Drago exclaimed.
"I am not!"
"Yer a cyborg, then!" he accused. "I hate cyborgs."
"I'm not a cyborg," I said. "Just my hand is roboticized. But Robotnik wanted it to look real, that's why there's skin."
"So Robotnik did it to ya, eh?"
"Yes."
"Tell us. We need a good story. Right, Frog?"
"Yeah," said the frog. He sounded half asleep.
"It's hardly good," I sighed, recalling the event...
So, I was actually out of the city at the time, and I had captured a group of Mobians. After the thick smog air of the city, which my lungs have long since adapted to, the clean forest air seemed intense, and I was feeling quite heady. I had two SWATs, one which I was worried about, because it kept malfunctioning. I also had a nice plasma rifle with me and so we had herded them into a group. I was telling them that they were going to be roboticized; basically making my cheap-villain speech.
They weren't impressed, and I caught the eye of this female. Her head was tilted and her neck long and supple...her fur a light light yellow, like gold. She was some sort of weasel thing, maybe a mink. But she was absolutely stunning. Her eyes, they were a dark tidepool blue and narrowed, filled with the shadows and light of the forest.
And the way she looked at me...it was such a violent contempt, like she'd love to tie me up by the balls and use me for a punching bag. For some reason that caused a stirring in my pants and my eyes wandered all over her golden breasts and powerful legs.
I was about to start leading them to Robotropolis...hoping I would get to interrogate the mink-girl, when two things went wrong.
I felt a stinging in my neck...there was a mosquito there. The little bastard was happily draining my jugular vein. I smacked it and then heard a whirring noise. It was the bot malfunctioning. I glanced over at it, and the distraction of mosquito and SWAT was very unhealthy for me.
The Mobians broke loose and took down the good SWAT with ease. Most of them ran off; a few stayed around to thoroughly trash and rip apart my SWATs. The golden female strode my way, and I could've blown her away with one squeeze of my finger. I didn't. She came right up to me, looked down. Her eyes were hate-containers...filled to the brim.
"Overlander," she hissed and then she drew her foot back. I probably should've done something, like moved...but no.
I allowed her to kick me full force in the groin. I allowed her to flee. I just collapsed, curled up like a fetus and wondered if I should be feeling this much pleasure from pain...
Robotnik was very unhappy. Which is nothing new. I told him about the escape, voice trembling and my sweat-slicked hands wringing together.
"Oh Snively," he growled in the voice which meant he was about to hurt me. "You let them get away?"
"It was an accident, sir," I whined.
He suddenly smacked me. My cheek stung, my eyes watered.
"That was an accident too!" he screamed.
I just whimpered.
"Why did ya take that crap?" Drago broke in.
Retard. I glared at him. "What was I supposed to do? Overpower him with my massive strength?"
Drago smirked. "Ya coulda dodged or something."
D is for Drago...and for dumb. Which is what Drago is. Dumb and ugly. He had muscles. He was big. There was no way he could understand my situation.
"I couldn't dodge," I said coldly. "For one, it would only make Robotnik angrier. For two...I couldn't move. I was too scared to move."
"Too scared?" he scoffed.
"Yes...haven't you heard of 'paralyzed by fear'?"
"Me? No."
I shook my head and continued my story.
Robotnik's fist was big. It cast a shadow over my face, which was locked in my 'forgive me' mode. That consisted of wide eyes and pouty lips and even a few tears on my cheeks. The fist lowered. I was saved.
Not quite.
"This is the perfect opportunity, Snively..."
I gulped. Because when he was mysterious like this...it was bound to be bad for me.
"Come along." He growled and strode from the room. I had no choice but to follow.
We were standing in the roboticization room.
"Sir...w-what are we d-d-doing in here?" I asked. My voice was shaking badly, because Robotnik had threatened me with roboticization before.
"Come here," he said, and led me to one of the smaller roboticizers. It was used for experimenting on prisoners.
"Put your hand in there," he demanded.
Roboticization hurt. I knew it did. It was like a woman giving birth...I'd never experienced it but I knew it hurt, and I knew I'd never want to experience it. My instant reaction was fear.
"No!" I cried. "No!"
"Do it!" he commanded.
"No!"
"DO IT!" He grabbed for me. I was so frantic, I wrenched away. Robotnik was a fat bastard, but he wasn't slow. He lunged for me, his meaty hands closing around the back of my shirt. He yanked me back and I struggled.
"Let me go! Let go!"
"Stop it!" he growled. Wasn't used to holding me when I fought. But he could stop me. He closed his hand around the back of my neck. He was good, that one. Got all the pressure points and I went limp. He took my hand and put it on the platform.
"Sir, please, sir..." I was really crying now. Terror made me a whimpering mess...longing to curl into a small safe place.
"Now stay still," he growled, "Or you'll get your arm too." And he flipped the button.
A force held my hand down. I couldn't pull it away. The blue light filtered over my skin. I'd always seen it from a distance; this close up I saw the light had glittery spots in it. It was almost beautiful.
Then my hand prickled, like tiny needles were stabbing me, and then an unbearable pain began. It was like...like my finger-bones were filled with water, and this water was freezing and expanding and soon my bones would shatter from the pressure.
"AhhhhhGodddddddd!" I screamed. I thrashed helplessly, but the pain wouldn't go. Now my skin was stretching and breaking, and there was a fine spray of blood. My eyes saw metal. My hand was metal! Robotnik shut down the machine and I collapsed to my knees, sobbing.
Robotnik pulled me up. My knees knocked together, so he had to hold me up by the back of the collar. He grabbed my hand and examined it.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?"
I was crying too hard to reply.
He snorted and let me fall back to the floor.
Later on, he put a few devices in my new hand. It included a com link that connected to one in his robotic arm. He said if he ever needed help (Which is highly unlikely, you little wretch!), he could call me on my hand. I thought that was funny, for a couple of reasons. First of all, I never expected to be able to use my hand like a walkie-talkie...second of all, he never said I could call HIM. Oh no. If I needed help, he probably wouldn't even answer.
I added my own modifications secretly in the following years. It wasn't that bad, not after Robotnik gave me skin on the hand. It looked real, just like Packbell looks like a real human. Sometimes I forgot it was roboticized. All in all, it was all right. I certainly could pack a mean left punch now.
"That wasn't very nice of him," said Flying Frog.
"No kidding," I said.
"But since you have it, can you use it to get outta here?"
Hmmmm. I never thought of that. How stupid of me. I tried to bend one of the bars enough to squeeze through. But it didn't budge. Just my hand was robotic, not my arm...so there wasn't any power behind it. I tried to punch the bar, in hopes of making it yield. But nothing worked.
I activated the com link and tried that. "If you hear this, come in! I repeat, if you hear this, come in!"
Drago and Flying Frog waited. Through the link I could hear the quiet rush of static. No answer. But what had I expected? Robotnik was dead.
"It's no use. We're stuck here."
"Man...I was thinkin' maybe ya did have some use. Guess not." Drago snorted and picked up his magazine again.
I sat down on my bed.
This sucked.