Prompt 025: "Something with evil Wheatley being tickled! How or why is up to you!"
GLaDOS is not amused.
Not only has She been ousted from Her body, She has also been shoved into a potato, skewered onto one of the prongs of the Aperture Science Handheld Portal Device, thrust several thousand feet into the maw of Enrichment Center, and all with no choice but to rely on the tenacious monster She tried to kill. Twice.
And now She's below Her room—Her room, a room that has been repurposed with his utter stupidity—about to be killed by the greatest moron that ever lived.
Wonderful.
"So, let's call that three minutes," says Wheatley, voice echoing about the chamber, "and then a minute break, which should leave a leisurely two minutes to figure out how to shut down whatever's starting all the fires."
She can't see him. She's hooked into the port in the breaker room beneath, but She knows he's connected into Her chassis, swaggering yet anxious, and even though She's not fully integrated into Her facility, She can feel the room start to disintegrate; panels disengaging from their proper places, the crackling of fire creeping behind the walls. There's a hum far below, the sound of machines groaning, straining, breaking apart.
The situation is far worse than She's hoped. Not that She was expecting miracles.
"So, anyway, that's the itinerary. Also, I took the liberty of watching the tapes of you killing her—ah, what are you doing? You're… no, stay back. Look, the neurotoxin only works so bloody fast and I haven't had the proper time to release it yet, so I can't exactly—hey!"
GLaDOS focuses Her attention on the surface. That… doesn't sound right. There was a plan: Chell was to stun him somehow, and GLaDOS was to send her corrupted cores to attach to Her body in hopes of initiating a core transfer.
This sounds like many things, but it does not sound like the plan.
GLaDOS raises the lift in the breaker room, climbing toward the chamber above. When the hatch opens, what She sees is not something She's comfortable with.
He is writhing. Yes, that's an accurate description, She thinks: writhing. He is writhing in Her body, optic shut, handles brought close against the metal of his own spherical chassis. The chest plate below where he's attached and the surrounding wires are being touched by Chell in this odd, fluttering manner. The Aperture Science Handheld Portal Device is on the floor by the heels of her long fall boots, and moreover, the room is still falling apart.
She is tempted to ask what is happening, but his unbridled laughter swells within the room and drowns any hope of using Her 1.1 volts to project Her voice over his.
"Oh, you're—stop, stop, you can't do this, I'm—" His pleas sputter into deep, body-jerking laughs; Her body wriggles as he tries to shrink away from the jumpsuited woman below. "No, why are you doing this—ha, I can't—no, stop!"
GLaDOS has no recollection of Her body being so physically sensitive, but with that moron in charge, She shouldn't be surprised something worse has happened.
Oh, wait. It has. Her mistake.
"You are going to—haha, oh god, stop—going to regret—no, I didn't even finish telling you about—ha, about my four-part process!"
She catches the glint of Chell's eyes under the harsh chamber lights. The woman winks as she continues to tickle Wheatley.
My, Her processor is slow in this stupid potato. Chell has followed the plan: she's stunned him. And quite expertly, at that.
"I'll get the cores," says GLaDOS.
Wheatley's raucous laughter resonates throughout the facility—especially in the breaker room.