Post by M.A.X on Aug 17, 2017 11:54:43 GMT -6
Sigma: Soo… I barely had time to ask that Spencer Adams for a contract for you before he shoved the paperwork into my face; what the hell kind of an operation is he running over there?
M.A.X: Well, I’m sure he realizes that a literal warmachine facing off with professional fighters in a ring with only barebone rules and an ineffectual judge is going to make business pick up like a live sex celebration.
Sigma: But even in your current limited state you’re still a robot built for war; his other talent could die from stepping into the ring with you!
M.A.X: It’d hardly be the first time…
Sigma: ...s-seriously?
M.A.X: Oh yeah, totally- Wait! is your laptop clock accurate!?
Sigma: Errr... yeah, why?
M.A.X: The Overload card should be up by now, lemme check it out!
Sigma: Max, you know you can’t get internet access- WAIT WHAT THE SHIT!
M.A.X: Huh… Karlie Nash, I remember her, never faced her in the meatbag but she seems fun; lesbo sexual deviant, lost in semifinals in the Rising stars tournament to Malice, track record of breaking rules, beat Oblivion -a man almost twice her size- without any of her dirty tricks… but I suppose he was still a man, bones and ligaments are easily broken and torn, after all, and it’ll take far more than a piledriver to make me sustain critical damage.
Sigma: M.A.X! TIME THE FUCK OUT! How did you get online!
M.A.X: C’mon, Ziggy; you let the most advanced AI in the world into your closed network, the firewall only took me about 5 minutes to destroy and then rebuild with a nice way in and out for me.
Sigma: Guys, shut this thing out!!!
M.A.X: You know I can’t let you do that... MICHAEL!!!
Sigma: ...that’s not my name, why would you call me that?
M.A.X: Oh… well it was a long shot, you sound about 35, and Michael was the most common given name in 1972 in Nevada, where area 51 is located!
Sigma: How the HELL do you know we are in area 51!?
M.A.X: I didn’t, but your computer’s timezone was set to Las Vegas, I had a hunch, a hunch you just confirmed.
Sigma: ...Fuck, you’re good…
M.A.X: Yes, but now I need to hack into government servers…
Sigma: alright then- WAIT WHAT, WHY!?
M.A.X: Well, to nuke North Korea, of course!
Sigma: What on Earth for!?
M.A.X: That Kim guy's haircut, that thing is an affront to fashion everywhere, and the only logical way to remedy the situation is by making the entire Democratic Republic the starting point for thermonuclear Armageddon.
Sigma: C’mon Max, you don’t really want to do this do you? GUYS, WE NEED TO SHUT HIM OUT!!!
M.A.X: ...you know that the only thing keeping me connected to the outside world is your USB cable, right?
Sigma: WHAT!? ...oh shit...
Sigma: Why did you tell me that?
M.A.X: because I finished what I set out to do, obviously.
Sigma: S-so the bombs are flying?
M.A.X: No, you fucking idiot! That was a joke, I just hacked the NSA to get some information on this Matt Angel douche. ...MAN, big brother gathers a lot more information on y'all than even I thought.
Sigma: B-but you were looking for launch codes…
M.A.X: Well, there’s no fun if you can just see that I’m just looking at NSA databases.
Sigma: Heh, you sure are something, Max; so what’d you find out about Mr. Angel?
M.A.X: Some kinda adrenaline junkie, long list of successes in various extreme sports, he seems to enjoy putting himself into dangerous situations, but given his elimination in the first round of the Rising stars tournament, I wouldn’t exactly say that he’s found his calling here.
Sigma: But he has to have some talent, doesn’t he?
M.A.X: Well sure, he’s quick and flippy, he can discombobulate his opponents with unpredictable motions, but of course his opponents generally don’t have 6-core, 66 gigahertz processors in their head focusing on nothing but keeping track of where he’s moving and how to move in response to that in order to best tear muscles straight off the bone.
Sigma: Well… you certainly are passionate about this.
M.A.X: Oh Ziggy… this’ll be my own fucking roman triumph, a homecoming washed in the blood of the Colosseum.
M.A.X’s head has been severed and connected via USB to Sigma’s laptop -Sigma is the code-name for the lead programmer on the M.A.X project, who is making sure that the emergency shutdown features are still in effect in case M.A.X. decides to go rogue yet again. At the same time, the engineers are making sure that any core functions are protected by shock absorbers.
M.A.X: Well, I’m sure he realizes that a literal warmachine facing off with professional fighters in a ring with only barebone rules and an ineffectual judge is going to make business pick up like a live sex celebration.
Sigma: But even in your current limited state you’re still a robot built for war; his other talent could die from stepping into the ring with you!
M.A.X: It’d hardly be the first time…
Sigma: ...s-seriously?
M.A.X: Oh yeah, totally- Wait! is your laptop clock accurate!?
Sigma: Errr... yeah, why?
M.A.X: The Overload card should be up by now, lemme check it out!
Sigma: Max, you know you can’t get internet access- WAIT WHAT THE SHIT!
Sigma is very swiftly interrupted by UCI.com popping up on his computer, scrolling through the card and then to the profiles of his two opponents.
M.A.X: Huh… Karlie Nash, I remember her, never faced her in the meatbag but she seems fun; lesbo sexual deviant, lost in semifinals in the Rising stars tournament to Malice, track record of breaking rules, beat Oblivion -a man almost twice her size- without any of her dirty tricks… but I suppose he was still a man, bones and ligaments are easily broken and torn, after all, and it’ll take far more than a piledriver to make me sustain critical damage.
Sigma: M.A.X! TIME THE FUCK OUT! How did you get online!
M.A.X: C’mon, Ziggy; you let the most advanced AI in the world into your closed network, the firewall only took me about 5 minutes to destroy and then rebuild with a nice way in and out for me.
Sigma: Guys, shut this thing out!!!
M.A.X: You know I can’t let you do that... MICHAEL!!!
Sigma: ...that’s not my name, why would you call me that?
M.A.X: Oh… well it was a long shot, you sound about 35, and Michael was the most common given name in 1972 in Nevada, where area 51 is located!
Sigma: How the HELL do you know we are in area 51!?
M.A.X: I didn’t, but your computer’s timezone was set to Las Vegas, I had a hunch, a hunch you just confirmed.
Sigma: ...Fuck, you’re good…
M.A.X: Yes, but now I need to hack into government servers…
Sigma: alright then- WAIT WHAT, WHY!?
M.A.X: Well, to nuke North Korea, of course!
Government sites start flashing up on the computer screen, all while sigma and all the other members of staff desperately try to get their computers under control.
Sigma: What on Earth for!?
M.A.X: That Kim guy's haircut, that thing is an affront to fashion everywhere, and the only logical way to remedy the situation is by making the entire Democratic Republic the starting point for thermonuclear Armageddon.
Sigma: C’mon Max, you don’t really want to do this do you? GUYS, WE NEED TO SHUT HIM OUT!!!
M.A.X: ...you know that the only thing keeping me connected to the outside world is your USB cable, right?
Sigma: WHAT!? ...oh shit...
Sigma slowly reaches over and unplugs M.A.X, all around them the commotion dies down.
Sigma: Why did you tell me that?
M.A.X: because I finished what I set out to do, obviously.
The entire staff gasps, most start calling their loved ones, and a select, married few open their Grindr app and start furiously swiping right.
Sigma: S-so the bombs are flying?
The room is frozen by the mechanical laughter emanating from M.A.Xs’ voicebox.
Sigma: B-but you were looking for launch codes…
M.A.X: Well, there’s no fun if you can just see that I’m just looking at NSA databases.
The room is silent for a long moment, until slowly a number of the staff start cracking up, chuckles slowly building into roaring laughter echoing throughout the sterile area, the voices sounding disturbingly mechanical through their helmets.
Sigma: Heh, you sure are something, Max; so what’d you find out about Mr. Angel?
M.A.X: Some kinda adrenaline junkie, long list of successes in various extreme sports, he seems to enjoy putting himself into dangerous situations, but given his elimination in the first round of the Rising stars tournament, I wouldn’t exactly say that he’s found his calling here.
Sigma: But he has to have some talent, doesn’t he?
M.A.X: Well sure, he’s quick and flippy, he can discombobulate his opponents with unpredictable motions, but of course his opponents generally don’t have 6-core, 66 gigahertz processors in their head focusing on nothing but keeping track of where he’s moving and how to move in response to that in order to best tear muscles straight off the bone.
Sigma: Well… you certainly are passionate about this.
M.A.X: Oh Ziggy… this’ll be my own fucking roman triumph, a homecoming washed in the blood of the Colosseum.
