Omega and Oscar: Served
"Suzie, make me a sandwich!"
"Oscar!"
Pausing in the hallway, Omega noticed the odd scene taking placing before him.
If he had had an eyebrow to rise up, he surely would have raised it.
A fairly young blonde female was standing angrily over a cowering, balding, red-bearded man that had his hands clasped together as if in forgiveness.
"Oscar, this is the very LAST time! I'm going to live with my mother, and that is final!"
Much to Suzie's surprise, however, Oscar looked away from her and in the direction of a certain mercenary machine. Only when Suzie raised her head did she finally discover where her soon-to-be ex-husband's mind was heading.
Unfortunately, before the curly-headed blonde even opened her mouth to protest, Oscar had already left his place by her legs and stood boldly before the massive robot, a sly smile on the man's ruddy face.
"Hey you, you're a robot, right?" Oscar asked Omega, pointing a finger at him, "That means you're supposed to follow people's orders."
'Oh dear...' Suzie thought in fear, taking a step back timidly. She personally had seen Omega in action before. To say the least, she'd rather not see anyone—even Oscar—turn into a smoking pile right before her eyes.
So imagine her shock when Omega instead answered in a cool and even voice:
"To be more precise, sir, my original format was to follow only Doctor Eggman's orders. Now, due to my time on Team Dark, I have achieved what you humans may call a 'will of my own.'"
'Oh Oscar please don't.'
"Hee-hee-hee, then in that case, YOU can make me a sandwhich!"
On second thought, maybe she wouldn't mind seeing Oscar turned into ash...or least being given the threat of that.
"OSCAR!"
"Very well."
Wait a second...Omega just complied! Suzie couldn't believe her own ears!
"See Suzie, at least he gets it." Unfortunately for Oscar, who was now facing a wide-eyed Suzie in smug satisfaction, he never saw what Omega was doing behind him...
"Would you like to be served medium rare or well done?"
"Eh? What the heck is that supposed to-?"
CLICK!
About 30 different types of arsenal, each of every one of them now pointing right out of Omega's titanium body, now aimed at their shell-shocked target.
Needless to say, Oscar had nothing to offer as a rebuttal to that answer.
Therefore, being the semi-sensible man he was, he took the only option that made logical sense: running.
Omega, weapons now stored away, and Suzie only watched as Oscar sped from the hallway and out of the boardinghouse faster than either of them had ever suspected he could.
"Um... thank you, Omega," the blonde replied awkwardly after a moment of silence.
"My pleasure, madam!" The mercenary machine went so far as to bow his head and place a clawed hand on his chest in courtesy, much to Suzie's pleasant surprise.
"However, I am severely disappointed the current environment prevented my execution of at least one of my missiles. I have not partaken in sufficient enjoyment in a while."
Suzie only shrugged to no one in particular. Who was she to question the hobbies of a walking, talking arsenal?