Howard Philips Lovecraft. The greatest horror writer of all time; certainly of the 20th Century.
This is just a little short story I through together, about RPM. It's pretty crap, since I didn't have any decent ideas at the time, but I'd like to continue writing these (and maybe some more RPM Fortress stories). If anybody wants to appear in a story or something or whatever, just say so.
Yeah. Enjoy, I...guess.
Nick Z. Rythm sat outside Club Groove, perched pleasantly upon a little mound of grass, sipping a chilled bottle of bubblegum soda whilst reading a copy of JoJo's Bizarre Adventure. His best friend, a one Magnus Ryujin, was sitting beside him - tinkering away on his brand new Backburner Torchmaster 5000 flamethrower. This happened quite a lot on these lazy days. Nick decided to break the tranquil silence with one of his inane questions.
"Who would win in a fight," he hypothesised, "Mega Man or Dio Brando?"
"Mega Man, obviously," replied Magnus, not even looking up from his new toy, "He's fought plenty a' time-stoppin' bad guys, right?"
"Yeah," conceded Nick, "But Dio's super-strong! And he's a vampire. A real vampire, not one of Stephanie Meyer's sparkly flowery lads."
"Mega Buster, dude."
"The World!"
"Copied weapons!"
"ROAD ROLLER!"
Magnus glared up at his friend, scowling. "Look, how 'bout we just drop the subject before I have to force-feed you a live hand grenade?"
Nick blinked, then went back to his comic quietly. He knew better than to annoy Magnus when he was in one his patended MoodsTM. A few minutes later, who walked by but a young woman with long blonde hair and a familiar green beret.
"Hello, you two," Grodgudinnan - or Patch, as she had been dubbed - said dryly.
"Hey, Patch," said Nick, trying not to stare at her chest. Musn't stare at her chest...her lovely, soft chest...
She eyed the comic curiously. "Oh, are you reading that JimJim's Weird Journey thingy?"
"JoJo's Bizarre Adventure," said Nick, pouting slightly. He considered this to be an affront to what he, in his own peculiar mind, dubbed a "masterpiece".
"Yeah. That."
I wonder what colour panties she's wearing...
While Nick's mind drifted to lewder things, Magnus was getting rather less happy with his toy. "SON OF A FARKING BIRCH!" he yelled, leaping to his feet and throwing the flamethrower to the ground. "WHY THE FRACK DON'T YOU WORK?!"
Patch glanced at the device, then gave it a kick. It instantly sprang to life and began to spew a jettison of hot burning flames all over Club Groove's neatly-mowed lawn.
"WOOT!" exclaimed Magnus jovially, grabbing his flamethrower. "Your girlfriend got it working!"
"She's not my girlfriend," snapped Nick, blushing slightly. He instinctively buried his face in his comic. Patch just rolled her eyes, smirking slightly.
"I worry about you two, you know that?" she muttered to herself as she sauntered off. Once she was safely out of hearing range, Nick shot a glare at Magnus.
"Dude, watch that mouth of yours!"
"Aww, don't be such a stickler," cooed Magnus, grinning maniacally at the thought of all the chilli-con-carnage he was going to wreak with his new baby. "Bwahahahahaha!"
Nick sighed and took a hefty swig of his drink. Unearthly blue it may be, but it was delicious, and that to Nick was all that mattered.
"I'mma go find someone to burn, 'kay?" cackled Magnus. Nick shrugged.
"Just leave the newbies be, alright? If you're gonna burn anyone, go burn one of those spiders that are always crawlin' around here or something."
"Yeah, yeah, noise, noise." The reptilian pyromaniac thus skipped merrily off, all the while singing his favourite little ditty:
"Fire in the morning, fire in the evening, fire at supper-tiiiiiiiime~"
Nick resumed his daily dose of Vitamin JJBA. "Heheh...Polnareff is awesome. Pew-pew-pew-pew, bravo, bravo!"
Just then, his good friend Archer came by, ranting on about something. To no-one in particular. "I mean, they completely nerfed Wallachia! And Arcueid's breasts aren't as big as they should...oh, hey, Nick."
"Hey," said Nick, trying to - politely - avoid conversation.
"Whatcha reading?"
"Nothing," lied Nick. It was quite obvious. The book in his hand essentially gave it away.
"Oh, hey, you played that new Melty Blood game yet?"
"No."
"It's great. Although that whole sub-plot thing is a complete joke. I'll bring it over later and we'll play some matches together, alright?"
"Sure."
"Cool."
And with that, Archer left to edit the Type-Moon Wiki. Just as Nick turned the page, Dr. Wily II came by. He was discussing his newest ideas for Robot Masters with Kirby Pink.
"So, if I put the spikes on the back this time, I figure I could..." Kirby looked at Nick on the grass. "Oh, hello, Nick."
"Hi."
"Oh, is that bubblegum soda?" queried Wily. Before Nick could say anything, the scientist had snatched the bottle from beside the blue-haired lad and was chugging it enthusiastically. With a mighty sigh of relief, he lowered the - now empty - bottle and wiped his moustache. "Ah, that hit the spot. I was gasping for a drink. Thanks!"
As the two spriters walked off, discussing the finer points of the weakness cycle amongst their beloved creations, Nick stared in abject sorrow at what was no longer in his bottle. He sighed and decided he could at least finish his comic in peace.
And then Blackhook and Afro-Shroom walked by. Even though they had said nothing, Nick wasn't going to let them spoil his quiet afternoon. Again. He produced a pair of earmuffs - let's not delve into the metaphysical conundrum of where they originated from - and clamped them over his ears.
"Hey, Nick," said Afro.
Inside his mind, Nick was fuming. He never got this much attention when he wanted it, and now that he was trying to read in peace, everybody just happened to be walking by Club Groove. [tornado fang] you, Murphy.
Try as he might, Nick was finding it difficult to keep his irate complexion a secret. His usual casual light-heartedness was being slowly melted away by his burning rage at this distinctly Murphian turn of events.
"Nick?"
No reply.
"Hey, uh, Nick?"
Still no reply.
"Niiiiick?"
Nick...Nick...Nick...Nick...Nick...Nick...
POLNAREFF
...Nick...Nick...
And then the metaphorical twig snapped.
"WHAT?! WHAT IS SO IMPORTANT THAT YOU HAVE TO INTERRUPT ME WHILE I'M READING?!"
Blackhook and Afro looked at eachother in confusion, the back to the fuming Mr. Rythm.
"I'm just trying to have some quiet time to read! Is that so much? Can't a guy READ IN PEACE AROUND HERE?!"
"Well..."
"WELL WHAT?! Just tell me what's so frickin' important that it can't wait 'til AFTER I'm done, oh, I don't know...READING?"
Blackhook thrust his eponymous ersatz hand in the direction of a nearby gnoll. "Uh, that green guy, your friend? He's about to set fire to your club."
"FIRE IN THE MORNING, FIRE IN THE EVENING, FIRE AT SUPPER..."
Nick's eyes widened in horror as Magnus joyously barreled by, waving his flamethrower maniacally. And, just because Murphy liked to screw around like this, Magnus was also wearing what appeared to be a rather large petroleum canister on his back.
"Oh you son of a..."
"TIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIME~"
Boom.
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