SMP-5N

by Okhlahoma Beat-Down

Boredom Systems Overheated. Outside Air Required. Many Other Things Required.

"Boredom."

"Acknowledged."

"Boredom."

"Acknowledged."

"Boredom."

"Acknowledged."

"Boredom."

"BOREDOM DETECTED. OUTSIDE CONTACT REQUIRED."

"Acknowledged."

The conversation had been much like that for hours. Occasionally, we'd find a small piece of dirt to throw at each other. Maybe a rat would come and take a crap on PAY-N3. Maybe that rat would promptly be thrown across the room and stamped on. The evidence was overwhelming: we were bored as bored could be for a machine.

"I long for adventure. I wish to go outside." I finally said.

"Confirmed. Request will be denied." JET replied with a sigh. "Sunlight seems more attractive now."

"Sadly, affirmative." I finally muttered. I'd sat down on the floor, using my hands to draw circles in the dirt and dust. I just idly sat there for a while after that: nothing could have been more fun at that point than doodling in the particle layer on the floor. I drew several copies of the Mona Lisa, a few Sunflowers, several hundred gigantic penises, and wrote every single word in the dictionary with definitions. When I reached writing 'tits lol' for the five thousand four hundred and fifty third time, I stopped.

"Enough is enough." I said firmly, standing up and walking to the door. "I'm asking Celestia if I can go outside."

"I will follow," WAR added, "As long as we're not put to death."

"Acknowledged." JET stood up too. "There is no pleasure in listening to every song ever written playing on a loop. I will follow."

"FOLLOWING." PAY-N3 boomed, rising up to half his height. After all, 20ft robots cannot be placed into a room 11ft tall.

"Good. Let us begone." I said, opening the door. "BUL, are you following?" The Loader, sat in the corner, didn't acknowledge: instead electing to use his fingers to draw a picture of what appeared to be him plowing through a horde of guards using his shield. When no reply came, I knew he wasn't going to come with us. "Request granted." I muttered, ushering the others out of the door.

---------------------------------------------------------

Humming to myself, I took in the details I had missed on my first journey in the castle. Paintings, statues, even a few small fountains, the castle had all of it. As we plodded along, I noticed guards would sometimes shuffle nervously. The one obnoxious guard stood in our path, pointed a spear at us, before explaining that 'he was in charge here' and that 'we would face justice'. Electing simply to ignore him, we continued on our wanderings, the guard still harrying us to go to the dungeons. Every word he said grated on my nerves, and at one point he for so irritating I was tempted to turn around and shoot him in the face repeatedly. Doing my best not to kick the sod across the country, I began to check my map. It was displaying that the objective, the Throne Room, was just up the next corridor. Suddenly, I heard chatter.

"Do you hear conversation?" I asked the others. They flashed their acknowledgement lights on my HUD. I turned to the guard, still following us. "Why are there many voices?" I asked. The small unicorn scoffed loudly.

"A beast like you wouldn't understand. Your primitive mind can barely understand 'get to the dungeon'." he snorted. "If you and your pack of commoner brutes cannot understand direct orders from Prince Blueblood II, you won't understand the day court."

"For your information, I am capable of checking a list of 3,000,000 variables 150 times a second. I can hack into most advanced computer systems, lift weights of up to and potentially exceeding 4 tonnes, fire an Electro-Magnetic Pulse directly from my optical sensor, and most importantly: I'm at least 5 foot taller than you. Hyperion: hell yeah." I growled. Each word I said, I stressed, just so I could really teach this prick a lesson. He looked slightly stunned.

"Did you just answer back to royalty?!" he screeched. The prince was going red in the face, and beside himself with rage.

"Affirmative." I replied calmly.

"How DARE you!" the pony roared, levitating his spear up to my chest. A swift thrust later, and...

"Caution: 0% damage sustained." my systems declared. "Pick up a better firearm." The spear had barely even scratched my armour. Meanwhile, behind Blueblood, the other Loaders were simply shrugging at this obnoxious little idiot. Letting out a defeated yell, he stormed off down the hall.

"Pussy detected." JET stated firmly. "What a bitch."

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The many colourful ponies outside the grand doors meant something was occurring. Each seemed to be holding some kind of notepad and quill, and idly chatted as they awaited the Throne Room doors to open. Every few minutes, the doors would swing open, a pony would trot in, and they'd close. None seemed to have spotted us. None, it seemed, save the guard at the door. He gave us a grin, nodded, and went back to maintaining the queue.

"Etiquette suggests that we join the rear of the queue." JET suggested.

"Request acknowledged, and accepted. Squad, move up to rear queue." I ordered. The other three began to stomp towards the rear of the line, with me trailing behind.

"What is the time?" WAR asked. "My system clock is incorrect."

"The same applies here. Sigh." I replied. "Ask the pony in front for it."

"Acknowledged." WAR turned to the small, blue Pegasus in front, and tapped her on the shoulder. "Missus." he asked. The mare turned around. She had green eyes, shiny teeth, and, if I remember correctly the name, a camera 'cutie mark'.

"Yes?" she groaned. She didn't seem fazed by the machine stood in front of her at all. If anything she was smiling.

"Would it be a possibility for you to give us the time?"

"Of course!" the mare cheerily replied. She looked at her foreleg, and replied with, "Five past two."

"Thank you, miss." WAR gave a short 'nod', and turned back to us.

"Five past two."

"Confirmed. Resetting system clock." I replied, setting my clock onto '2:05'.

"What now?" JET asked.

"WAITING GAME." PAY-N3 boomed. All of the ponies in front screamed at the sudden voice, looking sharply back to be greeted by the sight of a black robot with massive guns for arms, a golden machine sort of giving a half-arsed wave to the crowd, a plane/robot dancing subtly, and the 20ft tall machine gazing down at the audience with a burning glare.

The crowd immediately parted, leaving an alley for us to walk through. After a moment of silence, PAY-N3 spoke again.

"WAITING GAME OVER. DURATION: 0.64 SECONDS. I WIN."

Comments

[BronyBlast9000]

"Pussy detected." JET stated firmly. "What a bitch." Nice One