"Woo! Fuck yeah! Independence day!" Blitzo yelled enthusiastically, storming into the office carrying a massive box of 'Fiyaworks', which were adorned with flashy labels and promises of explosive glory. Benedict, as usual, looked up from his desk with a disapproving scowl, his fingers tapping on the keyboard of his typewriter.
"You're really going to set off fireworks inside of a building, sir? Do I need to tell you why that's a bad idea?" Benedict looked up from his typewriter at Blitzo with a mix of disbelief and concern. He couldn't fathom the recklessness of his boss's actions.
Blitzo spun around. "Oh, come on, Benny! It's Independence Day! It's the perfect excuse to blow shit up!" He replied with a mischievous grin, holding the box of fireworks up like a prized possession.
Loona, who was sitting at her desk with her phone, as per usual, rolled her eyes. "Really, Blitz? Can't we go one day without you doing some dumb shit?" She asked sarcastically.
"Of course not!" Blitzo cheerily ignored his employees protests as he jaunted towards the center of the room and dumped the box of fireworks on the floor, where it immediately fell over, and dumped the fireworks on the floor. Blitzo didn't bother to fix it, however, as he immediately started (poorly) setting up the fuse.
At this point, Moxxie and Millie entered the room from the break room, holding matching mugs of Coffee, both of which were cracked and put back together again many times due to Blitzo and Loona's reckless antics. Moxxie glanced at the chaotic scene unfolding before him, a mix of excitement and concern crossing his face. "Uh, guys, are we seriously doing this? Inside the office? With absolutely no safety precautions?"
Millie, always ready for a bit of chaos, grinned and plopped down on the couch. "Why the hell not? It's not like the building hasn't seen worse. Plus, it's a great way to test the office's fire suppression system." She gestured to a broken fire extinguisher case, with glass door that was shattered and hung limply at the hing, unable to latch properly. Inside, there was a dented, rusty, and probably broken extinguisher that had several cobwebs on it.
Blitzo grinned, pulling out a lighter and kneeling down to the haphazardly set up fuse. He flicked it on, causing a small flame to spurt out of it, and held it to the fuse, but stopped at the last second. "Wait, is this the short fuse or the long fuse?" He asked aloud, before shrugging. "Ah, who cares? Fortune favors the bold!" Before anyone could protest further, Blitzo lit the fuse, and the fire whizzed down it at tremendous speed. "See, I thought it was the short fuse!"
As the sparks traveled towards the awaiting fireworks, the room was suddenly filled with a vibrant explosion of colors and a cacophony of popping sounds. The air became thick with smoke, making it difficult to see or breathe.
Benedict, seemingly unfazed, simply put on a gas mask he'd had on him for some reason, and continued doing his paperwork, occasionally smacking one of the papers as they ignited to put them out.
Loona, still unimpressed and thoroughly annoyed, coughed as she attempted to disperse the smoke with a quick wave of her hand. "Goddamnit, Blitz! If this sets off that annoying sprinkler system, I'm outta here!"
Moxxie, who was hacking on the smoke, and who was definitely going to have some respiratory issues, peeked out from behind the couch, which was apparently where he dove in order to get out of the blast radius. "This is the exact opposite of fire safe, sir! You could kill us!" He pointed an accusing finger at his boss, who was still reveling in the last sparks of the fireworks, which soon died out.
Suddenly, the door slammed open, and a imposing sinner walked in, his mustache bristling with indignation, and a furious glare on his face. He was a pale man, with brown hair and a mustache that matched his hair perfectly, and wore an elaborate, Civil war era military outfit with many medals and badges, several of which seemed to be fake, one even appeared to be made from a soup can lid. He took in breath, probably to say something important, but ended up with a lungful of smoke instead, and immediately started hacking on the thick black substance. Thankfully, his entrance had the effect of giving the smoke a way to escape, and most of it drifted out the door, leaving only a mild haze.
Blitzo quickly rushed over to the figure, wrapping his arms around the taller sinners chest and dragged him over to Benedict's desk, slamming him onto it on his back, knocking all the paperwork, along with the typewriter, down on the floor in the process. Benedict immediately glared at Blitzo, yanking off his gas mask in the process, as his boss pulled a box of first aid supplies off a nearby shelf and dumped its contents onto the desk.
"Are you a medical professional, sir?" Moxxie asked, not even attempting to hide his disapproval as he rose from his hiding place, dusting the debris from his clothes and tail.
"Nope!" Blitzo grinned and started administering "CPR" which was him shoving on the poor man's chest until a rib or two broke, while Benedict simply started cleaning up the mess he had made of his paperwork.
"It's not working! Give me the morphine!" Blitzo demanded, holding out a hand as he kept doing compression's. Benedict looked up with an expression of mild annoyance as he rummaged through the supplies, eventually finding a large syringe with the label "morphine" written on it in red permanent marker, and passed it off to his boss.
Blitzo immediately jammed it into his own arm and depressed the plunger, letting out a sigh as the drug was released into his bloodstream. "Ah, that's the stuff..." Blitzo took a moment to enjoy the euphoria he felt before taking in a deep breath as the sinner hacked into his arm, attempting to get up but being shoved down again by Blitzo. "Okay, give me the defibrilator!" He demanded. Benedict again obliged, holding out a defibrilator that he wasn't sure where they'd gotten. Blitzo grabbed it and plugged it in the socket in the wall. He immediately proceeded to place the shockers onto the poor sinners medal covered chest and zapped him, causing him to spasm violently.
"Uh... Sir? Isn't it there supposed to be one pad on the heart, and one on the side of the chest?" Moxxie questioned with concern.
"Fuck you! I know what I'm doing!" Blitzo angrily replied, sticking a pad on the sinners face and the other on their groin and shocking him again. The sinner, still very much conscious throughout this, flailed around, gritting his teeth to keep from screaming as he was zapped.
Loona simply continued scrolling through her phone, unfazed by her father's antics. "He's gonna sue you."
Blitzo quickly slapped the sinner's face. "Quit pretending and get up already!" He yelled at his victim.
The sinner, finally fed up with being abused by the imps, kicked Blitzo in the chest, sending the imp stumbling back. Rolling off the desk, the sinner crashed onto the floor, groaning.
"Oh, hey, you're alive! That means I'm a medical professional, right? Good!" Blitzo grinned cheerily. Moxxie opened his mouth to protest, but decided against it, knowing he'd get no useful response from his boss.
Blitzo casually walked up to the sinner. "So, how may I help you?" He asked innocently.
The man staggered to his feet, dusting his clothes off and picking a few medals up off the floor. He gave them a once-over before angrily sticking them back on his coat.
"Who do you think you are? Do you know how many awards and medals I've received? Do you know who I am?!" He yelled angrily, causing Blitzo to shrug.
"I have no fucking clue."
"I am George B. McClellan! I single handedly led the north against the south and saved the Union! I single handedly brought slavery to an end in the United States! I am a national hero! A hero among men! A national treasure! An inspiration! The greatest American that ever lived!" He continued rambling.
"Oh, right! The Battle of Antacid or whatever. Truly a historic moment in indigestion." Blitzo remarked dismissively.
McClellan's face contorted in anger. "Antietam, you imbecile! Antietam! And it was a pivotal battle, not some mundane digestive ailment!"
Benedict, who had been silently observing the chaotic scene, finally spoke up with his usual grumpy tone. "Why is he here, and why did you bring him to my desk?" He plopped his typewriter back on his desk with a thump, from where it had been knocked down by Blitzo's questionable medical 'procedure'.
Blitzo scowled back at Benedict. "Because he's either a client or a potential client, and your desk was the closest flat surface! Why the fuck else do you think I'd put him on your desk, Benny?"
"It's Benedict." He replied flatly.
"Same fucking thing!"
Moxxie spoke up, trying to intervene. "Well, General, sir, what seems to be the problem? We're an assassination company, so... I imagine you want someone..." Moxxie made a throat slitting gesture, to McClellan's confusion.
"Want someone what? Finish that sentence, you!" McClellan pointed an accusing finger at Moxxie.
"Y'know, uh..." Moxxie mimicked stabbing someone, which didn't help McClellan much.
"'Y'know' what? Tell me, are you stupid or something?" McClellan asked, folding his arms in front of him, his veins pulsating with frustration.
"He means dead." Millie chimed in, offended by the former generals mockery of her husband. "We are the 'Immediate Murder Professionals,' after all."
Blitzo nudged McClellan in the side with his elbow. "C'mon, McChicken, you gotta admit, the names catchy, eh? You hear the jingle?" He gestured towards Benedict. "Do the thing, Benny! Like we practiced!"
With a sigh, Benedict grabbed his briefcase and rummaged through it, pulling out a saxophone. He gave Blitzo a disapproving look before reluctantly playing a surprisingly skillful jazzy rendition of the I.M.P jingle from the commercial.
Blitzo grinned and made finger guns at McClellan. "See? Catchy, right?"
McClellan, still fuming with anger, crossed his arms and huffed. "I don't care about your jingles or catchy names! I'm here because I have a serious matter that only the best can handle."
Blitzo, leaning casually against Benedict's desk, raised an eyebrow. "So, spill it, McFlurry. Who you want offed? Ex-wife? Annoying neighbor? Whore suing you for alimony?"
McClellan glared at Blitzo, his face turning red with anger. "I demand the assassination of Abraham Lincoln!"
The room was sent into a stunned silence for a moment, as the imps stared at the former general like he was crazy (Which, to be fair, he most likely was), except for Blitzo, who looked at the others with a raised eyebrow. "Why do you all look like you need to take a shit? That's a completely reasonable request." He remarked casually.
Moxxie sighed, used to having to explain very simple things to his boss. "Sir, you are aware that Lincoln, who was around in the 1800's, is long dead, right?"
McClellan scoffed at Moxxie's statement. "Dead? Bah! That's what they want you to believe!" He started to angrily pace the room. "Lincoln stole my spotlight, ruined my reputation, and now they brought him back as a fucking mechanical monstrosity! He's not dead, he's a damn cyborg made to hunt vampires!" McClellan slammed his fist onto Loona's desk, his eyes wide with conviction.
"I'm sorry, when did vampires get involved in this?" Benedict interrupted, looking genuinely puzzled and still holding his saxophone.
Moxxie was also confused. "Isn't that the plot of some movie?" He asked, asked, looking genuinely puzzled.
Millie shrugged. "Ah' thought it was a comedy." She paused, her eyes shifting between the disgruntled general and her fellow imps.
"Documentary." Blitzo corrected smugly, sauntering up to McClellan. "Now, my good friend, about our payment-"
"Do you take cash or cheque?" McClellan pulled out a antique looking chequebook, not bothering to wait for an answer, and scribbled out a payment.
Blitzo snatched the cheque from his hands, but before he could make a sassy comment, the rusty sprinklers sprang to life, sputtering and spraying brown, murky water that looked like it had been sitting in a rusty pipe for years all over the room.
The imps, along with McClellan and Loona, were immediately drenched, their clothes clinging to their bodies, and the office covered in the slightly smelly liquid. Benedict immediately pulled out an umbrella that he, again, just happened to have on him, and opened it, before pausing for a moment and handing it to Blitzo, who grabbed it without even looking at his younger employee.
"That's it! I'm fucking outta here!" Loona, keeping good on her word, stormed out of the office, flipping her wet hair over her shoulder and muttering curses under her breath as Benedict took off his trench coat and tossed it over his desk in an effort to save the paperwork.
Blitzo held up the dampened cheque to the light, as if inspecting it for forgery. "...You think the bank will still take it?" He pondered aloud, shaking the soggy cheque slightly.
. . .
The I.M.P crew hid in some bushes, surveying a concrete bunker entrance. Blitzo stared at the bunker with a pair of binoculars he'd had on him, peering into the souls of the two guards who were outside. One was a pale redhead with muttonchops, and the other was a bit shorter and paler, and instead had a black, well trimmed mustache. The two men were both in the three piece suits that are customary for secret government agencies.
"How are we going to get past them?" Moxxie whispered nervously, looking at the imposing guards.
Blitzo grinned mischievously. "Oh, don't panic, Mox, I got a plan." He then proceeded to tell the others his plan, causing Moxxie to look worried, Millie to seem excited, and Benedict to clutch his temple, exasperated.
"This is the worst idea you've ever had." Benedict remarked. "And that says a lot."
. . .
Benedict grumbled as he mounted the 'Horse', which was actually just Blitzo, Millie and Moxxie in a bad horse costume. "This is going to go horribly wrong." He muttered. He wore a traditional colonial general outfit, complete with tricorne hat, rapier, and musket. Blitzo, Millie, and Moxxie, hidden inside the horse costume, were trying their best to keep their balance and not topple over. The plan, if you could even call it that, was to approach the guards outside the bunker, hoping they would assume Benedict was a higher-ranking official.
Blitzo, acting as the front end of the horse, tried to keep a straight face. "Oh, come on, Benny-boy! It's a foolproof plan. They'll never suspect a thing!"
As the makeshift horse approached the guards, the bizarre sight caught the attention of the muttonchop-sporting guard. He nudged his mustached companion and pointed towards the approaching trio.
"Hey, Hank, you seeing this?" The guard with muttonchops asked.
"Holy hell, what in tarnation is that?" Hank, the mustache guard, responded, squinting at the peculiar horse-like creature with confusion.
"Greetings, good sirs!" Benedict greeted in a poor, exaggerated colonial american accent. "I am General Benedict Lafayette Washington of the continental army, and seek entrance into yonder establishment."
There was a brief silence, before the muttonchops guards piped up. "...Call the time machine guys. I think one one of their subjects broke containment again." He told his mustachioed partner.
"Oh come on! This is the third time this week!" Hank exclaimed angrily. "First there was the time they brought back Elvis Presley, then they brought back Napoleon Bonaparte, and now we've got this... whatever it is."
Blitzo, still disguised as the front end of the horse, gasped. "Wait, Elvis is back? Fuck, I need to catch one of his concerts!"
The two guards stared in horror at the talking horse, which was now expressing a desire to attend an Elvis concert. "Wh- What- Oh, Fuck it, just let em' in. Nothing normal happens around here anyways." The muttonchops guard muttered, and stepped out of the way, soon followed by Hank.
"Neigh! I mean, thank you kindly, good sirs!" Blitzo chimed in.
With the guards stepping aside, the I.M.P crew, or rather the horse, trotted forward towards the entrance of the bunker. Once they were out of earshot, Moxxie couldn't help but voice his concerns. "This is insane, sir! How did you even come up with this plan?"
Blitzo chuckled, his eyes glinting mischievously. "Well, Moxxie, I have a wild imagination and a complete lack of common sense. It's a winning combination, really."
"You're just mad you're the arse, Moxxie." Benedict sarcastically remarked, trying to steer them to avoid running into something.
The group made their way through the dimly lit, concrete corridors of the bunker, the horse costume banging into the walls with every turn. The guards and scientists inside gave them confused glances, especially when the horse seemed to quietly argue with itself and curse whenever it hit a wall or piece of furniture, but no one stopped them. Eventually, they reached a large, heavy metal door with a sign that read "A.B.R.A.H.A.M" and underneath, "Awesome, Bitchin', Really Amazing, Hot, Aboveboard Man"
Benedict dismounted, or more accurately fell off, of the horse, and, pulling out a crowbar from his seemingly bottomless coat pockets, stuck it between the door and started to wedge it open.
Moxxie, meanwhile, peered through a back flap of the horse, scanning the area. "All clear." He hissed, prompting Millie to rip off the horse costume, and, having been in the middle, and being Millie, she tore it in half.
Blitzo looked upset. "My beautiful horse! You heartless fiends! You killed her!" He dramatically exclaimed, in grief as he clutched the torn pieces of the horse costume.
Moxxie rolled his eyes. "It was just a costume, sir."
Blitzo dramatically wiped away a fake tear. "She was more than just a costume, Mox! She was a symbol of our majestic entrance! A majestic entrance that is now in tatters!"
Benedict, unamused, ignored Blitzo's theatrics and focused on prying the door open. With a creak and a groan, the heavy metal door slowly gave in, revealing a dimly lit room beyond. The crew cautiously entered, taking in their surroundings.
It was circular, and high tech, with the walls of the room not covered with technological doohickeys with beeping blue lights, as well as several windows that looked into the room, and various tables with more scientific equipment on them.
In the center, lying in a large, upright metal pod with a clear front, was cyborg Lincoln. He was clearly Lincoln, still dressed in his signature suit and top hat, but he had several cybernetic augmentations. The left half of his face was now plated in a shiny silver metal, along with a glowing red left eye, and metal right arm and hand, his left hand replaced with a silver hatchet. There was also a small metal smokestack sticking out of the left side of his hat.
Blitzo whistled, eyeing the cyborg Lincoln with both admiration and amusement. "Well, well, well, look at Honest Abe go all Iron Man on us. I gotta admit, I'm kinda impressed."
Millie elbowed him playfully. "You're just jealous because you don't have a cool metal arm, B." She said teasingly, causing Blitzo to scoff and cross his arms.
"Jealous? What, just because he has some tin can for an arm?" He paused. "The robo-dick, however, is quite hot..." Blitzo seemed to ponder for a second, stroking his chin and probably putting a lot more thought into this than he really should be.
Moxxie raised an eyebrow. "Sir, I highly doubt that they gave him a mechanical... Y'know. Not everyone is a degenerate like you." He glared at Blitzo, who rolled his eyes.
"Oh, come on. Of fuckin' COURSE they gave him one. Why wouldn't they? It's the future, Moxxie! Embrace it!" Blitzo declared loudly. "Besides, you could probably use one, baby-dick." He poked a finger at Moxxie's groin, earning an immediate scowl from Moxxie.
Benedict let out an exasperated sigh, shaking his head at Blitzo's inappropriate humor. "Can we please focus on the task at hand, sir? We need to find a way to deactivate the cyborg Lincoln and fulfill our client's request."
Millie, ever the optimist, scanned the room for any control panels or buttons. "I bet there's a self-destruct button somewhere. That's usually how these things go, right?"
Moxxie raised an eyebrow at her suggestion. "Millie, I highly doubt they would install a self-destruct button in a highly classified government facility. That's just asking for trouble."
Blitzo, who had been absentmindedly inspecting the pod, suddenly perked up at the mention of a self-destruct button. "Oh, I've seen plenty of self-destruct buttons in movies. They're always hidden in the most obvious places."
He began pressing random buttons and flipping switches on the control panels scattered around the room, hoping to stumble upon the elusive self-destruct button. The lights flickered, and the room started to vibrate ominously, causing the imps to stumble slightly, and causing Blitzo to faceplant straight into more buttons, dragging himself along the panels.
Benedict's eyes widened in alarm. "Sir, what are you doing? We don't need the entire facility blowing up!"
Millie and Moxxie exchanged worried glances as the vibrations grew stronger, causing loose objects to rattle and fall off the tables and surfaces that were around the room. "Sir, please, for the love of Satan, stop pressing buttons!" Moxxie pleaded, grabbing onto a nearby console for stability.
But it was too late. Suddenly, an alarm blared throughout the facility, red warning lights flashing everywhere. Klaxons echoed through the halls, and the ground beneath them shook violently.
As the dust settled, they heard a deep, mechanical voice emanating from the pod. "Intruders detected. Engaging defensive protocols. Threat level: Maximum."
Benedict narrowed his eyes at Blitzo, who peeled himself from the various switches. "Well, congratulations, sir. You've not only alerted the entire facility, but you've also activated the cyborg Lincoln's defense systems. What's your next brilliant plan?"
Blitzo scratched his head sheepishly, his mischievous grin replaced by a look of mild panic. "Uh... we run... away."
The imp crew started to book it for the door, only for it to slam shut, also catching Blitzo's tail in it. "Ow! Fuck! Mother christ sucking on a dick that hurts!" He painfully yelled, yanking his tail out from between the doors.
Lincoln climbed out from the pod, his limbs whirring as they moved. "Trespassers detected. Prepare to be ema-a-a-ancipated." He menacingly said in a deep, robotic tone, pulling out a repeater and holding it in one hand, his other hand replaced with a silver axe.
"Fuck." Was all Benedict had to say, before Lincoln charged at him with surprising agility, narrowly missing him with his axe as Benedict ducked at the last second.
He drew his own weapon, a 18th century rapier that came with the outfit, but was abruptly kicked by Lincoln, sending him flying across the room. Moxxie tried to intervene, firing his pistol at Lincoln, but the bullets bounced harmlessly off his metallic exterior.
Lincoln slowly and menacingly turned around towards him, raising his repeater and taking aim. Moxxie gulped, realizing that his bullets were ineffective against the cyborg. Millie, protecting her husband, leapt onto Lincolns back and pulled out her trusty knife, attempting to stick it in his neck to little effect.
Lincoln grabbed her by the neck and yanked her off his back easily, despite her struggling. He hurled her backwards, where she crashed through a window into a smaller room with more steel control panels with various colored lights. The other three imps, including Benedict, who had recovered and was back in the fight, could be seen getting thrown around and fighting Lincoln as Millie got up and looked around. In front of her, facing towards the center of the room, was a large control panel, with a vast array of unlabeled buttons and switches, labeled "A.B.R.A.H.A.M Control Panel."
"That's convenient." She remarked, running over to the thing and smacking the closest button. Immediately, Lincoln sparked and glitched slight, before bellowing out, "Patriotism mode: Activated". His axe-hand retracted and was replaced by a grenade launcher, and he started firing off explosives in random directions, while shouting patriotic slogans such as "FUCK YEAH! 'MURICA!".
"Uhhh, this one!" Millie smacked another random, unlabeled button causing Lincoln to stop and twitch again. "Midlife Crisis mode: Activated."
Lincoln's voice changed, becoming slightly whinier and filled with existential despair. He lowered his grenade launcher and clutched his mechanical head in his one functioning hand. "What is the purpose of life? Why do I exist? Is this all there is? How do I emancipate this student loan debt?!" The I.M.P crew continued stabbing, shooting and trying to hurt Lincoln during this, all of which he seemed to ignore.
"Now ah' just feel bad." Millie said sadly, pushing another button. Lincoln immediately stops wallowing and straightens out. "Puppy love mode: Activated."
In Puppy Love mode, Lincoln's demeanor shifted drastically. He retracted his launcher and brought out a mechanical claw instead, and gazed at the I.M.P crew with wide, innocent eyes, a robotic smile forming on his face. "Oh golly, you guys are so cool! I just want to give you all hugs and kisses!"
Moxxie, still recovering from Lincoln's attacks, cautiously approached him. "Uh, Mr. Lincoln? Are you feeling alright?"
"Oh, I'm feeling better than ever!" Lincoln, in his Puppy Love mode, approached the imp with an enthusiastic bounce in his step. "Who wants a hug? I promise my metal arms won't crush your fragile bodies too much!"
Benedict, still nursing a few bruises from his previous encounters, eyed the control panel skeptically. "Millie, are you sure you should be messing with that thing? We need to deactivate him, not put him in some weird mood."
Millie shrugged, flipping another switch. "Okay, let's try... This one."
Lincoln sparked slightly. "Flirtation mode: Activated." He said robotically, before turning to Millie, leaning into the broken window. "Hello there, my lovely little imp. Care to join me for a night at the theater? We could watch the plays and whisper sweet nothings in each other's ears." Moxxie looked shocked by the fact that a cyborg president was flirting with his wife, while Blitzo giggled, enjoying Moxxie's turmoil.
Millie unexpectedly blushed a bit. "While, that's uh.. Lovely, Mr. President, ah'm married." She rejected him, and hit another button.
Lincoln's voice changed again. "Rejection mode: Activated." He replied, his tone now bitter and resentful. "Oh, so you're married? Just like Mary Todd, huh? I see how it is. Fine, go back to your husband and live your happily-ever-after while I'm stuck in this mechanical hell."
Millie winced, feeling a pang of guilt. "Uh, sorry about that, Mr. Lincoln. I didn't mean to upset you."
Blitzo, who had been recovering from his fight with Lincoln, chuckled and sauntered up to Lincoln. "Hey there, Honest Abe. How about you and me have a little tête-à-tête? I promise you won't regret it."
Lincoln reached over through the shattered window to the panel and smacked a button. "Gay mode: Activated." He said, before turning back to Blitzo. "Well, hello there, handsome devil. I must admit, I've always had a weakness for charming imps like yourself. Let's see where this forbidden romance takes us."
Benedict let out an exasperated sigh, shaking his head. "I can't believe I'm witnessing this. Is there any mode in that panel that can make him stop flirting with everyone?"
Millie hurriedly pressed a button, hoping to find a solution. "Um, maybe this one?"
Suddenly, Lincoln's voice changed once again. "Punchline mode: Activated." He swapped his mechanical arm for a microphone, which wasn't actually connected to anything. "You know, I once told my mother that she should embrace her mistakes. She then gave me a hug."
The I.M.P crew gave Lincoln a deadpan stare, unamused by the joke. Lincoln chuckled awkwardly. "Tough crowd."
Moxxie groaned, facepalming. "Seriously, Millie? We're in the middle of a chaotic fight, and you activate punchline mode?"
Lincoln, still in punchline mode, continued with his comedic banter. "Why did Benedict refuse to eat the pancakes? Because he was too short-stacked!"
Benedict raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Really? That's the best you've got?"
Blitzo, however, burst into laughter. "Short-stacked! Classic! I love it!" He fell over, rolling on the floor and wheezing as Lincoln looked pleased with himself.
"This is a complete and utter disaster. We were supposed to complete a mission, and now we're stuck dealing with a cyborg Lincoln who can't stop cracking jokes." Benedict grumbled, clearly annoyed by the mockery of his average height.
Just as Benedict finished his sentence, Lincoln's voice suddenly switched to a calm and serious tone. "Lying mode: Deactivated."
"Millie!" Benedict angrily yelled, looking over and seeing Millie's hand innocently on a button.
"You try ah'n not hit a big red button!" She defended herself, smacking another button, causing Lincoln to jitter and spark again. "Mockery Mode: Activated" He deadpanned, before turning towards Benedict.
Benedict glared at Millie, frustration evident in his eyes. "I can't believe you, Millie. You just had to mess with that button, didn't you?"
Lincoln, now in Mockery Mode, began imitating Benedict's serious demeanor, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, I'm General Benedict Lafayette Washington, the most serious and important member of the I.M.P crew. I don't have time for fun or jokes, because I'm too busy being a grumpy old man."
"Old m- I'm 23! I'm pretty sure I'm the youngest one here!" Benedict sputtered out indignantly.
Blitzo, who had recovered from his laughing fit, chimed in, unable to resist the opportunity to make fun of Benedict further. "Hey Mills! You got a button to activate
'sense of humor' mode on Benny here?"
Benedict looked away, visibly frustrated and upset, as Lincoln continued. "Don't worry, Benny! Just because you lack a sense of humor and a love life doesn't mean you're a complete failure. I mean, you're only a partial failure."
Benedict flinched at being called a failure, a flicker of insecurity crossing his face, but it was quickly masked and replaced with a scowl. "'Enough of this nonsense!
We're here for a mission, not to entertain a malfunctioning cyborg!" He snapped, trying to regain control of the situation.
Blitzo couldn't contain his laughter and joined in. "Come on, Benny, let loose! You might actually enjoy it." He slapped Benedict on the back, causing the shorter imp to once again flinch.
Moxxie, who had been trying to assess the situation, sighed. "Sir, we really need to find a way to deactivate Lincoln before he causes more chaos or insults Benedict further."
Lincoln couldn't resist adding fuel to the fire. "Oh, what's the matter, Benny? Can't handle a little ribbing? Maybe if you weren't so uptight, you'd have an actual social life."
This was the thing that finally pushed Benedict over the edge. "That's fucking it!" He exclaimed angrily, pulling his musket off of his back and stormed over to the shattered window leading into the control room and clambering through it. "I have had enough of this degradation!"
He pointed his musket directly at the control panel, his frustration reaching its peak, and pulled the trigger, letting out a a resounding blast and a small cloud of smoke. Sparks flew as the musket ball collided with the panel, and the room fell silent as the lights turned off, making the room near pitch black.
"God damnit, Benny!" Blitzo exclaimed angrily, before emergency lights suddenly turned on and bathed the room in a red glow, revealing Lincoln, who was slouched over in the middle of the room, twitching and sparking, the effects of his modes seemingly having dissipated.
Suddenly, he spoke up, his voice static-y and glitchy. "S-Self destruct Mode: A-A-Activated." The former president sputtered out, and began counting down. "180... 179... 178..."
The I.M.P crew stared in horror as the ominous words echoed through the room. Blitzo quickly snapped out of his laughter-induced daze. "Okay, okay, we need to get out of here, like, now!"
Benedict, realizing the gravity of the situation, tossed the smoking musket aside and booked it for the door, soon followed by Moxxie and Millie. Blitzo, however, couldn't resist one last laugh, and quickly ran to the now stationary Lincoln and looked down his pants. "I knew he had a robo dick!" He yelled out triumphantly, before joining the others in running for their lives.
They dashed through the crowded corridors of the bunker past confused and panicking scientists and guards, as Lincolns countdown echoing in the distance, creating a sense of impending doom. "21... 20... 19..." Lincoln's voice echoed through the facility, growing louder and more ominous.
Just then, the ragtag group of imps managed to reach the same exit they came in from, booking it past the two very confused guards from earlier.
"What the fu-" The muttonchops one started to ask, before being shoved over by Blitzo, who hurriedly pulled out his phone and typed something out, letting Loona know to portal them out.
Surprisingly quickly considering Loona's normal work ethic, a red, swirling portal back to the I.M.P office opened on the ground a few meters in front of the door, and Benedict quickly hopped in, Moxxie and Millie doing much the same not soon after.
Blitzo glanced back at the self-destructing bunker as he stood at the edge of the portal. "Hey, Lincoln! I hope your punchline mode includes a good one-liner about blowing up!" He yelled, before cannonballing straight through the portal, eliciting a yelp of pain from Moxxie, whom he landed on, before the portal snapped shut, just as Lincoln finished his countdown.
"2... 1... 0."
"Tell my wife I love her!" The muttonchops guard, still on the ground, yelled to nobody in particular. He tensed up, expecting to be exploded, but only heard a faint bang in the distance.
"I don't know what you expected." The mustache guard told him, calmly standing still and unshaken by the events. "He's a cyborg, not a nuclear bomb."
"I just expected something more... Climactic." The muttonchops guard responded, getting back up to his feet. "Honestly, I'm kind of disappointed I didn't get vaporized."
A/N: Back to uploading things at 2 in the morning! Ah, how I missed it! Anyway, this was definitively my favorite chapter of the original versions, and probably still is my favorite edited version, at least so far. The major issue I can see is people having no goddamn clue who George B. McClellan is (Real person, by the way. If you wan't to know more, I highly recommend watching the Oversimplified, the youtube channel, videos on the civil war), but honestly that might just make it funnier. I decided to go with him over John Wilkes Booth, because firstly, Booth was the obvious choice that everyone expected to try and get Cyborg Lincoln killed (How do I come up with these ideas?) And secondly, looking back at the original, booth simply had no personality whatsoever, and wasn't very funny. Hopefully McClellan is far funnier, and has more character.
Again, all feedback, constructive criticism, and suggestions are welcome!