disgustiphage asked: The roomba looked pretty pathetic, this harmless little thing cleaning up after their messes; Slick thought it needed a little “spicing up”.
He advanced on the little thing, deck and duct tape in hand, once again noting with disgust that Boxcars had somehow thought it appropriate to get a white one. But then again, Slick thought as he picked up the little roomba, his hands flaring with purple not-quite-fire as he did, it doesnae’ matter what color it is as long as it’s 20% mair deadly than it was!
Half an hour later, Deuce jumped Boxcars from behind and began to scale the taller dersite, bleeding and yelling about how the roomba had turned evil and was out to get him. Boxcars was about to simply assume that the little guy had just been dropping Tachyonite again when he felt a sharp stabbing pain in his ankle. Looking down, he saw not a too-drunk-to-stand Slick, as he’d expected, but what appeared to be his beloved roomba with fancy blades duck taped all over it, reeking of Shadow magic and nudging up against his leg like an overly friendly cat made mostly out of stabs. “Like ma’ improvements?” Slick said from the doorway, his voice abound with gleeful pride. “I’m gonnae call it the Doomba!”
Boxcars made a mental note to work out a way to destroy the Thing the roomba had become, or failing that, to wear more heavy-duty boots that protected his shins and ankles.
(…Wow, this turned out to be WAY more than five lines.)