re_alignment | [Video] this is probably what caused the death of the Disco Medallion

[Whirl has decided to give you lowly creatures a demonstration, since Megatronus's quadrant is currently sprouting a healthy crop of Multipedes of Squickiness. It is high time you all got to see a real Wrecker at work. So he's set up a camera, his face popping in to check the angle, before he jumps down to what he has dubbed Carnage Central. He's ready for his close up--wearing that awesome clock-necklace he got for that stupid human holiday. It looks, obviously, AWESOME. ]

Awright. Pay attention, pansies. Whirl's gonna show you losers how a real Wrecker gets it done.

[How it's done looks pretty much like a blur of violence and mayhem. Critter heads flying everywhere, gouts of disgusting bodily fluids, slimy organs everywhere. It's a gore party and Whirl's making the confetti.]

[What's worse is probably his terrible David Attenborough impersonation narration.]

We see, in its native habitat, a creature of superlative unworthiness. Uh that's not me, wussbuckets, for the record.

You'll note how, in their short but violent existence, they have the cerebral functioning of a coprolite. Cuz look at this. [He holds up a metallic chunk of something between his claws.] Brain the size of a graphing calculator.

The creatures are mindless, hapless victims of slaughter when they wander against a superior being. That IS meeeeeeeee---!!!

[Unfortunately, Whirl's super-unvincibility is put to the test, as the terrorpede he's trying to kill, in super slo mo 300 style, suddenly catches the chain of his super awesome clocklace in its mandible. Whirl now finds himself unawesomely being flung around by the rearing, snapping creature. ]

CUT! CUUUUUUT!!!!!

((ooc: you can help or mock and if you're NPCing his mauling, HIS BODY IS READY))

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[Oh god Whirl you're such a confusing mech. His eyebrows are now definitely raised.]

Whirl! How many times does this keep happening to--nevermind, where are you?

[Frag. Camera's still rolling. ]

Uh. Got it under control. Just, you know, going for style points.

[You buy that, right?]

Being crazy is one thing, endangering yourself is another.

STYLE POINTS!!!

[Danger? Wuzzat.]

I got this.

[Or, it got him. One or the other.]

Uh huh...

[Whirl is obviously in danger you can't fool Robo McAngst.]

Where are you?

[How can you not believe this face?]

Megatronus's. By the swarming sea of terrorpedes.

['Feeding frenzy' might be closer. ]

THAT IS MY FAVORITE LEG YOU FRAGGIN' THING![Scuse him while he shoots things. All the things.]

Try not to get yourself killed.

[He's on the way right now. Better not do anything intensely stupid.]

Thanks for the vote of confidence.

[Frag, it's like nobody has faith in his badaft cred.]

[It's probably hard to when he's currently shoving one foot in one of the creature's optics.

[And lo, the cavalry has arrived. With a swipe of his hand he slices one creature with his laser knife hand. It helps to have these accessories, sometimes.]

So I take it this isn't your first time facing certain death?

[You need a fancy manbag for those 'accessories'.]

Only thing certain about certain death is that it fraggin' loses.

[He clonks one of the creatures on the head with a claw. ]

Impactor fraggin' hit harder'n you! Smelled worse, too!

[It's because he's European isn't he. Albert shoots another creature from the distance.]

This shouldn't be happening, I thought they didn't stray from the badlands...

Must be my fraggin' animal magentism.

[He's a sex god of terrorpedes?]

Yeah, if you were an animal.

[Pew pew pew, have a serving of bullets, you machines.]

Picky picky.

[Seriously. ]

[At least the critters seem to not like whatever that is Albert is dishing out.]

[That's Albert right there.]

I say we need to mow a path out of here...

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