"Harrumph! Enough about my story. Might I ask what the deuce are
you, then?"
"If you must know, I'm the Great Robotnik's new second-in-command." The naturally cool robot bird was more than boggled at the sudden arrival of his rotund guest. Despite what this fellow insisted, Robotnik hadn't said a word about a relative visiting - at least nothing in the bird's memory banks. The guy wasn't even the least bit afraid in this environment, either - highly irregular of most of the Maker's guests. He'd just driven up to the front door of the main control tower, stood impatiently in front of the portal, and caught the robot as he headed back inside from an errand. From here, he had proceeded to explain several grand-sounding adventures that had occurred on his way over here.
And Cluck had timed out waiting for the patience command that was to override his default output.
"If you don't surrender yourself, I'll be forced to -"
"Is that so? Hah hah. What a charming, albeit freakish, lad. Youthful flights of fancy never cease to amuse me, even in these dire streets. I suppose I won't mind your presence, then, boy; my bags shall await you in my transport."
"Wha-what?! You dare speak to me like that? I'll have you know that the Great Robotnik has placed me as his second-in-command now that Snively has betrayed us! That means I'm going to have control of about a fifth of the whole world at my fingertips someday! I'll do no such thing!"
The stranger's eye units narrowed. "Listen, my ferromagnetic friend, I don't care a trifle about just how much of this fine orb we live on you are in control of! Your naïveté has transcended its limits and I strongly suggest you do as you are told."
None of this input would comply. "Carry your own bags, you pompous blowhard!" This turned out to be a mistake, as a backhand caught him across his stainless steel beak, causing his head to rotate once fully around his neck, in a manner not unlike certain cartoons he'd input into his ROM when the Master wasn't looking.
"Of all the impudent...brrrruff!! It baffles me that Julian tolerates a squawky little upstart such as yourself! My bags! " The rooster, finally deciding that it would be best to humor this gent, threw up his wings in disgust and clanked towards the hovering transport to get the aforementioned baggage.
The other individual, still ruffled, continued to mumble to himself. "Bother. I haven't seen one shred of life around here yet, aside from that walking suit of armor. Possibly the most deplorable living quarters I've ever seen. Pbbrrumph! Julian is going to get an earful when I find him." The muttering did not cease as the grunting robotic chicken struggled under the weight of luggage and proceeded ahead of him.
"Say! What's your name, boy? Didn't chance to ask yet." Now the gent seemed to have completely and instantly forgotten his grievances towards him. His behavior simply didn't compute. Rather than endure another blow to his chassis, he responded as commanded.
"Urff...Cluck."
"I asked for an answer, not a mechanical sound! Your name!"
"No, Cluck is my name, ungh, sir."
"Oh! Really. Quite interesting, if a bit generic."
"I didn't pick it. Umpf...there's a door up ahead - could you please get it, sir?"
"Aren't there supposed to be doors built in here? Your employer is supposed to be enough of a genius to take care of such things, at least from how I've known him. Very well." The man proceeded ahead and found the door, prying it open with his bare hands. "Rather bulky doors, if you ask me."
Cluck did not recall that he asked him. "There was supposed to be a switch. I think you might have broken it."
"Pishtosh! Portals are meant to be opened manually. When I was your age - that is if you have an age, being of a technological nature and such - I opened far heavier doors than these, and if I didn't, father would scold us full sore!"
And thus Cluck was now doomed to not only the physical heaviness of the bags but also a long, worthless input about the good old days. Slowly, he agonized towards the elevator that would take him upstairs so that the Master could deal with this character.
"If you must know, I'm the Great Robotnik's new second-in-command." The naturally cool robot bird was more than boggled at the sudden arrival of his rotund guest. Despite what this fellow insisted, Robotnik hadn't said a word about a relative visiting - at least nothing in the bird's memory banks. The guy wasn't even the least bit afraid in this environment, either - highly irregular of most of the Maker's guests. He'd just driven up to the front door of the main control tower, stood impatiently in front of the portal, and caught the robot as he headed back inside from an errand. From here, he had proceeded to explain several grand-sounding adventures that had occurred on his way over here.
And Cluck had timed out waiting for the patience command that was to override his default output.
"If you don't surrender yourself, I'll be forced to -"
"Is that so? Hah hah. What a charming, albeit freakish, lad. Youthful flights of fancy never cease to amuse me, even in these dire streets. I suppose I won't mind your presence, then, boy; my bags shall await you in my transport."
"Wha-what?! You dare speak to me like that? I'll have you know that the Great Robotnik has placed me as his second-in-command now that Snively has betrayed us! That means I'm going to have control of about a fifth of the whole world at my fingertips someday! I'll do no such thing!"
The stranger's eye units narrowed. "Listen, my ferromagnetic friend, I don't care a trifle about just how much of this fine orb we live on you are in control of! Your naïveté has transcended its limits and I strongly suggest you do as you are told."
None of this input would comply. "Carry your own bags, you pompous blowhard!" This turned out to be a mistake, as a backhand caught him across his stainless steel beak, causing his head to rotate once fully around his neck, in a manner not unlike certain cartoons he'd input into his ROM when the Master wasn't looking.
"Of all the impudent...brrrruff!! It baffles me that Julian tolerates a squawky little upstart such as yourself! My bags! " The rooster, finally deciding that it would be best to humor this gent, threw up his wings in disgust and clanked towards the hovering transport to get the aforementioned baggage.
The other individual, still ruffled, continued to mumble to himself. "Bother. I haven't seen one shred of life around here yet, aside from that walking suit of armor. Possibly the most deplorable living quarters I've ever seen. Pbbrrumph! Julian is going to get an earful when I find him." The muttering did not cease as the grunting robotic chicken struggled under the weight of luggage and proceeded ahead of him.
"Say! What's your name, boy? Didn't chance to ask yet." Now the gent seemed to have completely and instantly forgotten his grievances towards him. His behavior simply didn't compute. Rather than endure another blow to his chassis, he responded as commanded.
"Urff...Cluck."
"I asked for an answer, not a mechanical sound! Your name!"
"No, Cluck is my name, ungh, sir."
"Oh! Really. Quite interesting, if a bit generic."
"I didn't pick it. Umpf...there's a door up ahead - could you please get it, sir?"
"Aren't there supposed to be doors built in here? Your employer is supposed to be enough of a genius to take care of such things, at least from how I've known him. Very well." The man proceeded ahead and found the door, prying it open with his bare hands. "Rather bulky doors, if you ask me."
Cluck did not recall that he asked him. "There was supposed to be a switch. I think you might have broken it."
"Pishtosh! Portals are meant to be opened manually. When I was your age - that is if you have an age, being of a technological nature and such - I opened far heavier doors than these, and if I didn't, father would scold us full sore!"
And thus Cluck was now doomed to not only the physical heaviness of the bags but also a long, worthless input about the good old days. Slowly, he agonized towards the elevator that would take him upstairs so that the Master could deal with this character.