Maniac’s Mayhem: A guide to being a corporate slave

"you know what? I think we should add maniac to our samurai game; she is edgy, so she will fit in with our more misunderstood audience. and it is a way to introduce our new hacker class"

--Sor Foft meeting on their new game Samurai Rush an hour before receiving a surprisingly high amount of Maniac models with animation and different outfits. The Purple Truth 2051

 

“Did someone call me?” Magenta says when she comes out of the tent.

I look at Bubbles to see that she has gone completely red now.

“I am pretty sure I did not say Bloody Mary three times, so no.” I say while looking up.

“Some people would say something nice in the morning, like, 'Good morning, did you sleep well'?” she says in a, it’s too early for this, tone.

“I don’t need to ask if you slept well. I know that you did, going off the puddle of drool you left on my shoulder.”

While she goes red and wipes at her mouth. I sent Bubbles a quick text message saying that if she wants to go out with her, that is fine with me. I mean, I am not about to judge. I also say that I am not that interested in her, but that is fine. In my opinion, in an open relationship, you should just be able to date whoever you like. Then again, don’t drag everyone to bed that is available… at this point, I notice that my text has become a bit of a ramble, so I just end it with, more discussion would be good, but the Glowstick is okay.

When Glowstick recovers, she turns back to me. “Well, it’s not like you have any proof.”

So I sent her my favourite pictures from the selection. “Well, here you go. I guess you are right: less my shoulder and more straight into my cleavage.”

Yeah, I think I broke her. What a shame. Moving on, I grab my sword to make sure it is still in perfect condition. Which it is, just requires some cleaning and a refill of the bubble tank.

“So we go around some more today? Or do we have a more specific area to fuck up?” I ask, after checking the batteries on all my gear.

“I don’t think there is any area that needs special attention. So we are free to go around and mow down any plant we see.” Bubbles says in answer, while putting on her frankly massive backpack. And what makes the thing even scarier is that every pipe is filled with a different kind of acid.

“Nice. So you are going to restart Glowstick, or should I?”

“I don’t mind doing it, but I am way more curious at how you would do it.” Bubbles says.

“So would I?” Magenta says, looking at me like I am some kind of exotic disease.

I shrug. “I don’t know, electrolytes or something.”

“That sounds somehow normal.” Magenta says.

“Yeah, I am pretty sure that Lyssa can get me a syringe of the stuff for only a small amount of points.”

“Ahh, found the problem.” Magenta says, “Well, no, thank you, I can take care of myself.”

“How disappointing!” I say.

After that, we pack up and set off for the morning. Well, technically, morning, it’s like 11, so there's not much left of it, but we get going at least. Don’t shout at me; I am on vacation. Magenta and Bubbles are talking about… well, I don’t really know. While I am trailing behind them, having a text document open, trying to figure out what I should say to Cierra without, like, how to say this, getting my head ripped off. Why did this sound all so easy last night? Guess being tired helps the brain. Then I look back at Bubbles again, also having something that cute so close, messes with my judgment. Also, the little sneak has definitely set me up. She wanted this arrangement as much as me, I bet. Not that I mind that or anything; I just don’t know; I feel cheated. Whatever, thinking about it is not making me write better. Why the fuck is English so hard.

When we get close to lunchtime, something more interesting than garden clips shows up. And by interesting, I mean two model 12s. They are these fucked up bus-sized things with six limbs, and if that is not the worst part about it, they can hide half of the hanging gardens of Babylon in between their chitin plating. Talking about it, a group of 3s and 4s jumps out. I look at Magenta and Bubbles.

“Dibs!” I shout, as I start running at the plants on wheels.

Of course, the plants can't just be normal and sprout roots and photosynthesise or something. No, instead of making something useful of their fruity life, they decided violence was the best option. Granted, with how we have been treating our planet it kind of makes sense, but that does not mean I am not disappointed.

I come into range of the first model 3 and give it a good kick into its jaws to vent my frustration at the difference between your and you’re. It goes flying into another Model 3, sending them both tumbling through the mud. I unsling my blade from my back and use it to block the tentacles of the model 4. Several bubbles pop in the attack, leaving the tentacles scarred as their flesh starts to melt off. I do so love the smell of grilled tomato in the morning. It cleanses the soul.

I jump over another 3 and slash another one as I land. I swirl my blade around to simultaneously block and cut off more incoming vines. I quickly switch my Egyptian paddle to the left hand to send one of the model 3s back to the Duat. With my now free right hand, I grab one of my javelins and hurl it at the biggest group of yard waste. It managed to impale two of them before coming to a rest halfway embedded into a rock.

I turn towards my two patiently waiting audience members and blow a kiss. Then I started running at the spear. I send a model 4 back to the great maid café in the sky when it gets in my way, but it’s the only obstacle to my spear. I jump, landing on the end of my javelin and using it as a springboard to launch me even higher. My goal was to jump on the back of a model 12 and jam my blade between its chitin plates. What I did not expect was for the creature to unfurl its wings, making it look like Frankenstein's bumblebee.

I create a shield to stop my trajectory, and instead, I crank open the valve to full blast and throw the sword straight at its fucked up mouth. And like the good girl she is, she swallows thing. Or boy, no judgment here. While the sword does some wonderful things to its insides, I summon a second shield to catch my fall and notice the other bee movie reject is now coming at me as well.

‘Lyssa, I am going to need something heavy.’

Lyssa will assume you mean a weapon and not a book with a tragic backstory.

New Purchase: Magnitude Altering Nailer Iolitadly Adapted

Points reduced to... 9637

 

A long hilt appears in my hand. On its end, some kind of heavy-looking block has been attached, making it look more like a hammer than a sword. Well, I guess I asked for something heavy, so that makes sense. Inside the bonk part of the hammer, there seems to be some kind of spherical object rotating around angrily.

‘Lyssa, how the fuck do I even use this thing.’

Don’t worry. Lyssa will take care of the gravitational accelerators.

‘the gravitational what now?’

Before the snark generator can answer. The other 12 dives at me. So it can wait for now. I grab the handle tightly with both my hands and swing at the creature. A loud boom followed by a shock wave that sent me vibrating to my very bones was released as soon as the hammer struck Beezilla.

And as for the giant Flying Venus Trap, well, the point where I hit it, including everything behind it, is probably somewhere in Poland by now. That is to say that its body is beyond fucked, the thing imploding on itself in its own momentum. I have never seen anything like it, but I feel like this would be the result of getting hit by a bullet train.

After my skeleton has stopped imitating a tuning fork, I look around to see what else is happening. The remaining model 12 that ate my sword has become a puddle with my sword sticking out in a sick and twisted way, kind of like an Arthurian legend but written by Shirley Jackson instead. The remaining models have either succumbed to bubbles or are gathered below me, trying to bite at my shield. Looking at Bubbles and Glowstick is kind of satisfying in its own way. Both have their mouths agape, just staring at me.

I do a little bow to them before dismissing the shield. I start falling, and as soon as I get in range, I twist around in the air, slamming the hammer into the closest alien. Well, there is not much left of the fucker! Pretty sure I splattered its guts from here to Paris. Not only the plant of contact is destroyed, a good bit of the ground has been as well. Most of the Xenos around the poor bugger are also sent flying. Sadly, this includes me. I guess with the force being sent into the ground instead of something soft, it rebounds a lot more, and I am sent careening several meters through the air.

I readjust myself in the air to land on my feet, and I grip the hammer tight again. And start running at the ones that have suffered the least amount of orbital damage. I hit a smaller Model 3, and it went flying into a small mountain up ahead. This continues until I run out of the galactic baseballs.

‘fuck this is fun. Why do you not get me something like this sooner?’ I subvocalise while cleaning some plant goo.

Because only recently you have unlocked the capabilities to buy tier 2 weaponry

‘tier 2, huh, fuck, well I guess it is a massive upgrade; my bones feel like they're shaking apart with every hit.’

Well, that is because they are.

‘Fuck Lyssa, why” I subvocalise while dropping the weapon acting like it bit me ‘you better have a good fucking reason for this.’

Damage would only appear in 2 months of prolonged use, and since you and Lyssa agreed on getting your skeleton replaced, the damage is negligible.

‘and will my new skeleton hold up against the bonking stick?’

Yes, Lyssa would not let you permanently harm yourself in any serious manner.

‘that sounds like an insult somehow.’

I will add delusions to the list of things we need to deal with in therapy.

‘you do that, doctor Suess.’

I put my new hammer on my back, adjusting the illusionary clothing so a proper holster is formed around it. I recover my Excalibur as well; when I put that on my back, I head back to the others.

“So, how did I do? I felt like that was an 8 out of 10 performance,” I say.

“What makes it an 8 out of 10?” Magenta asks.

“My landing was a bit off, and my upward force calculation was kind of crooked,” I say.

“Ooh, I thought you got 2 points deducted because you stopped to preen two times.” Bubbles says.

“Nothing wrong with a bit of showmanship, right?” I say.

“So what is that thing anyway?” Glowstick asks.

“It’s a hammer. “ I say happily.

“Yeah, but why does it create a shock wave?” Bubbles asks.

“I don’t know, and it being tier 2, I don’t think I have the mental capacity to understand the physics behind it,” I say.

“Ooh, can I post this fight?” Magenta suddenly asks.

“Yeah, but why?”

“I have been offline for a while and told my followers we were going plant hunting. They are asking for some action clips, and since we were standing far away, I actually have some good shots.”

“I guess it is fine. I think this was one of my cleaner fights so far; then again, the fight against the 23 was also fun.”

“You broke your arm during that fight.”

“Yes, so?”

“I am not showing gore if it is unnecessary.”

“Coward!”