PART I : On Old Friends
Regulus' Journal, 12th October, 20XX :
Found a dead Robot in an alley this morning, tire-tread on its stomach. This world is afraid of me. I have seen its true face.
The streets are an extension of the sewers, carrying blood. One day, they will spill out and drown the vermin.
The accumulated filth of their bribes and pornography will foam up to their waists, and all the politicians and the whores will look up and shout : "Save us !"
And I'll look down, and whisper : "Start your bidding offer."
They had the choice. Nothing stopped them from following the straight line ... but I took advantage of their errors.
And now, the world has just crossed a bottomless pit, leaving Hell behind it, and all the politicians, liberals and spokespersons are left speechless.
(We begin at Cossack Citadel, in the room of the most infamous Robot Master in the seedy pubs of Moscow.)
Jay : *looking down through Diveman's window* Well, that's one fuckin' great last ride.
Silent Bob : ...
Jay : He tripped while drunk ? Are you out of your fuckin' mind ? Guy got beaten up and thrown. Word.
Diveman : *from his crater, out of the Citadel* I'm not dead, ya scumbags !
Silent Bob : ...
Jay : Sure thing that bastard was helluva strong. We're talkin' about the sub guy here. And he's no lightweight.
Silent Bob : ...
Jay : No way in hell I'm gonna investigate this, man ! We have seven other bozos in armors to take care of this.
Silent Bob : ...
Jay : Yeah, we're gonna get high instead. So, where does DiveDick hide his stash of booze ?
Diveman : If I see even one bottle is missing, ye're gonna travel on th' Last Way Express !
Jay : Geez, the wind is blowing hard tonight.
Diveman : Fuck it. *goes away to acquire his medicine*
Silent Bob : ...
Jay : *rummaging through Diveman's room* Ye're as persistent as crabs, man. If anyone had a motive ? We're talkin' about the biggest motherfucker around. Of course he had enemies !
Silent Bob : ...
Jay : *found a bottle of brandy* Ah ! Now we're talkin'. *walks out of the room, followed by Bob*
(As soon as the investigators - for lack of a better word- left, a skeletal silhouette walked close to Diveman's landing impact, and picked up an "angry" smiley, splattered with blood. He picks it up, and aims with his claw at the window.
He fires- a grappling hook. He effortlessly climbs. Then, he heads for Diveman's closet. He investigates for a few minutes until he finds what he wanted - a button. He presses it, and the closet's back opens to reveal ... a gimp suit ?!)
Skullman : Hrrm.
(Along with the gimp suit, there were a few pictures of the previous incarnation of the Comrades, dating to before the War. And two persons are circled on it.)
(We go to another person...)
AM : So, I was at the mall, looking for some Star Wars collectibles, I turn to the next alley and ... BAM ! I bump into Enker. Remember him ?
John : You told me about him two or three times...
AM : Sure, we fought quite a number of times back then, but now he's reformed. Something about the disappearance of Ballade... We traded adresses.
John : *looks at his watch* Oh, midnight already ? Gotta go, AM.
AM : Really ? That's how it is when we talk about the good old times. You must think I'm boring you...
John : Of course not. It's thanks to our saturday night meetings that I stay on-the-spot about your history.
AM : Yeah ... Teammates gotta stick together. All those guys that went away after the War ... a shame. As Ringman, I think you'll be as good as Rebel.
John : That's crap, AM. Thanks anyway.
AM : Now you watch your mouth, kid ! It's this left hook that beat up Met King, remember ?
John : Of course I do ! Thanks for the night, AM. Keep in shape.
AM : You too, John. Later.
(And John walked the long path of ... from Drillman's room to his own. Unfortunately, someone was already waiting him there ...)
Toadman : Oh, greetings, John. How are you doing ?
John : Ah, Mr Toadman. And Skullman as well.
Skullman : *drinking from a blue can* Helped myself with an E-Tank. Hope you don't mind.
John : Err ... you don't want it boiled a bit ?
Skullman : Fine like this.
Toadman : I came here with a specific problem in mind. *drops the smiley on the table* Take a look.
John : *picks it up* Hm ... What's this ? That blot ... It's oil ?
Skullman : Human oil. Hahah.
Toadman : This belonged to Diveman. It's his blood. He's dead.
John : Diveman ... dead ? How is that even possible ?
Skullman : Was thrown from his window. There was a fight before.
John : A fight ? With who ? And what do I have to see with it ?
Toadman : Your predecessor was quite good when it came to investigating ... Well, to be honest, he knew how to dress for the job, but that's a good start.
John : Heh. But ... could it be a burglar ?
Skullman : A burglar, beating up Diveman ? Unlikely. Besides, his room doesn't contain many valuables.
John : Yeah, this sounds ridiculous. But ... could it be anyone he fought with ? Like, the RPD ?
Toadman : As plausible as it sounds, that's far too many people to choose from. I suspect some conspiracy, instead.
John : No need to get paranoid.
Toadman : So they say I'm paranoid, hmmm ?
John : Well, no. But since you mentioned a conspiracy ...
Toadman : Oh. But still, many people were unhappy with the survival of Dr Cossack after the war. Especially considering the circumstances back then ...
Skullman : Diveman got into certain problems with AM and Cossack. Perhaps a replacement was in thought.
John : Now don't start insinuating on AM ! If you plan on scaring him or something, I'll ...
Skullman : Insinuated nothing. Just saying.
Toadman : In any case, if someone targets the Teams ... I just wanted to warn you. We'll be going now. Take care.
John : Well, may I show you the way out ?
Toadman : I remember when I was working with Rebel. I regularly came here. Good times...
John : You should tell me more about it. What happened with Rebel, anyway ?
Skullman : He quit.
(And on this, the duo leaves.)
Regulus' Journal, 13th October, 20XX.
Slept all day. Woken up 16h37 by Altair.
The night is going to fall on Russia. Below me, this horrible city, screaming like a slaughterhouse full of retards, Moscow. Friday night, Diveman is dead here. Who knows why ? Down there ... someone knows.
The night smells of fornication and bad conscience. Time to take exercise.
(The duo entered a seedy bar, the likes of which you find in every shady suburb.)
Bartender : B-B-Blue Fox ! How are you doing, pal ?
Toadman : Quite well, Happy Harry. And you ?
Harry : Well, very good ! I'm really pleased to see you're doing fine as well ! And I, er, I ... I ... Please. Kill no one. I beg of you.
Toadman : Someone splattered on the street friday night. And he wasn't alone when it happened.
Diveman : *a bottle in hand* I told ya I wasn't dead, Kermit !
Toadman : Someone called Diveman. Surprisingly, he was my friend.
Guy 1 : Him, having friends ?! Bah ! Someone changed their deodorant.
Guy 2 : Shut up, Steve !
(As soon as this was told, Skullman walked closer to the duo.)
Guy 2 : *leaving the table in a hurry* Uhh ... gotta take a piss...
Steve : Uhh ... I'm sorry, man. I didn't mean it and - hey, what're you doing ?
(Skullman had just grabbed Steve's pinky, and ...)
Toadman : My associate here just broke this man's little finger. Who killed Diveman ?
Everyone in the bar : ...
Skullman : Very well.
Toadman : His index, as well. Now, who killed Diveman ?
Random Guy : Please, we know nothing ... I beg you, Blue Fox, leave him...
Skullman : *drops Steve* Hrrm.
Diveman : *throws his empty bottle* Boo ! Spoilsport !
Toadman : You, there. You know who killed Diveman ?
Diveman : Piss off. I'm right in front of ye.
Skullman : Hrm. Delirious drunk.
Diveman : Screw you, too.
A night of investigation for no result. I feel slightly depressed.
This world is suffering from rabies. Can't I do anything but wipe away its foam ?
Never desperate, never capitulate. I leave this larvaes to their stories of drug and cheap booze. I must fray with people from a better class.
Sean : Diveman, dead ? How ... ?
Toadman : You are the smartest of the Comrades, Sean. Tell us, then.
Sean : You're too kind, Reg. I'm merely an average being. Wouldn't that be a political murder ? Those from the RPD could have ...
Skullman : John told the same. Hardly believable.
Toadman : The political situation is still unstable, and the international community wouldn't risk Russia turning its back on them. I believe it's a Team killer.
Sean : Not so sure. The RPD apart, Dive still had far too many people after him. He was pretty much a dick, after all ...
Skullman : He fought for a cause. No one could've put him away.
Toadman : And he didn't sell his reputation for posters, tech-books, action figures at his effigy. He didn't whore himself out.
Sean : ... You're aware I only sell vacuums, right ?
Toadman : Oh. Sorry.
Sean : In any case, I know we haven't been really friends, but you're a bit harsh. Besides, YOU are the weapons-dealer.
Toadman : ... In any case, I warned you about the Team-killer. Don't end up the morgue's smartest guy. Take care.
(The duo leaves, leaving Sean to contemplate a few prototypes of his "Easy-Clean Dustman Vacuums".)
Regulus' Journal, 13th October 20XX, 18h30.
The meeting with Sean left a bad taste in my mouth. He flung back at me my pretentions at liberalism. Possibly homosexual ? Must investigate further.
John isn't better off himself, as he stands in Rebel's shadow. Why are so few us left in perfect physic and mental health ? No one knows what happened to the former Skullman. Zapper ... let's leave it at that. Rebel ... same treatment.
The other teams aren't safe either. So many just ... disappeared, all of a sudden.
And finally, Diveman ... Dead. StilL AlIvE AnD ReaDy To amBuSh yOu aNyTiMe - DiVEmAn.
There a few left on my list. They have their appartment just across the hallway. I must see them. I must warn the Immortal King that someone plans to assassinate him.
? : Good evening, you two.
Toadman : Good evening, Pharaohman.
Pharaohman : Just call me Jade.
(In Jade's room, where the owner is manipulating several objects through telekinesis.)
Jet : May I ask what you're doing here, Reg ? I mean, you could've at least knocked.
Skullman : Good evening, Jet.
Toadman : We have bad news for you two : Diveman's dead.
Pharaohman : We live here, you know. Of course we heard about it. The KGB says it could be terrorists.
Toadman : I may have my own idea on it. But apparently, his death doesn't interest you.
Pharaohman : The guy has gotten worse than that. He'll just be back some day. Besides, he's a robot, remember ?
Skullman : Mmf.
Jet : In any case, he deserved it ! He was a dick. Do you know how much times he tried to assault me ?
Toadman : He showed me the records, sadly.
Jet : Ah ...
Toadman : And of Zapper as well.
Jet : That's ... getting uncomfortable. Could you take them away ?
Pharaohman : You heard Jet. You'd better go now.
Toadman : Sorry, Jade. I warned John and Sean already, and I went here to warn you two. Apparently, someone's out to kill the Teams. Probably an old grudgeful enemy. I think ...
Pharaohman : I tell you, you really should go.
Toadman : I lost my time to come here. Before leaving...
*are teleported away*
Toadman : ... I'll talk. *looks around to find he's in his room* Show-off.
(In Jade's room...)
Pharaohman : He's gone. So, do you feel better ?
Jet : Reg is actually a nice guy, but Hunter ... he's more of a machine than any of us. That monocord voice, this creepy noise as he walks ... Yeah.
Jet : Jade ?
Pharaohman : Yes, Jet ?
Jet : We've been indoors for quite too long. How about we go out for dinner with John tonight ?
Pharaohman : As much as I'd like to, I'm busy tonight. That's one hard to build model and ...
Jet : Okay. I'll go with John only, then. Good luck with this.
Regulus' Journal, 13th Ocotober 20XX, 23h50.
Friday night, Diveman's dead in Moscow. Someone threw him out of the window, and when he crashed on the ground, his head went in his stomach. Who cares about this ? No one but me. And even I am disgusted by this.
Who's right ? Them ? Me ? War left, but will come back one day. The world will burn again. Disease and poverty will make millions of victims once more.
No matter. There's right and wrong. Wrong must be punished. Even the return of Armageddon shall not change this. But so many deserve to be punished ...
... And so little time left.
John : That time already ? Wow. That was a wonderful night, Jet. Won't you leave me the bill ?
Jet : Let's just put it on Cossack's account. He's the one funding us, after all.
John : So ... just to know, how's it going between you and Jade ?
Jet : Fine, fine. We're getting along great.
John : Good. So, could you tell me more about your time as a Comrade ? I wouldn't like to sound out of touch with the others.
Jet : I heard you got some "lessons" from AM. Guess I can help a bit, as well. So, what do you want to know ?
(The night ends well for the duo, as they head back to the Citadel.)
PART II : Memoirs of a Dick
(The setting is one of Moscow's cemetaries. A funeral is attended by the Comrades, all in civilian suits. As the ceermony goes on, they remember of Diveman's actions in the past. let's take a look at their memories.)
(20XX, before the War. The Comrades of that time are posing in armor for a group photography.)
Rebel : Now, that was a perfect picture !
Geoff : Can we move now ? I need a beer.
Jet : *wiping her eyes* How come I get spots in my eyes ? I'm BrightBabe, after all !
Geoff : Ah ? Well, perhaps I can take 'em out...
Jet : Don't start now, Geoff !
Photgrapher : Eight copies, then, Mr Ringman. It'll be done in a week.
Jet : Well, that was a posing seance ! Did I look nice at least, Zy ?
Zymeth : I hate posing like this, Jet. We'd better be doing some "heroism" in the streets ... heheheh ...
Geoff : I hear ya, man. And it's not that registeration bullcrap that'll help th'matter.
AM : It's all politics for now, Geoff. We'd better not start doing anything about this before the authorities say so.
Sean : I just hope this won't end in a war. Discriminating robots like this...
Geoff : Yeah, you'd dirty yer lil' vacuum with all th'mean fighting.
Rebel : Now, enough fighting ! Let's meet in five minutes at my place. Beer's cold.
Jet : Coming soon, guys. *heads to the bathroom*
Geoff : *after having followed her* Pssst !
Jet : Geoff ! What are you doing here ?! I can go to the bathroom alone.
Geoff : Sure thing, baby. But I'm thinkin' ... that costume, ye're not always thinking "super-heroism" when wearing it, right ? *walks closer*
Jet : Geoff, no ...
Geoff : This no means yes...
Jet : It's written N-O ! *slaps Geoff away*
Geoff : I like it when my girls struggle... *starts beating up Jet*
(The whole sequence would've turned out worse had the "assaulting" not be interrupted.)
Zymeth : So, Jet, everyone's waiting for you to ... *gazes at the scene* You sick monster. *grabs Geoff* You get away, you bastard...
Geoff : Heh. She had it coming. And ye're one to talk, Skeletor.
Zymeth : *starts beating up Geoff*
Geoff : *smirks* So, that's what ye like ?
Zymeth : ...
Geoff : Th' violence and brutal beating up part.
Zymeth : Oh.
Geoff : What did you imagine, here ?
Zymeth : ... Just go away.
Geoff : Sure, I'm leavin' ... but we'll see next time ye wanna go down the streets and dispense justice ... ye may end up very lonely...
Zymeth : Out !
(Geoff leaves triumphantly, as Zymeth helps Jet getting up.)
(The time is after the War : Regulus has just entered the Comrades. The team is together in the Citadel.)
Drillman : First of all, I'm glad to see you again - the old-timers and the newcomers. For those who only know me as Drillman, I'm called Anime Master, or AM. Greetings to this new meeting of the Cossack's Comrades.
Diveman : *burps, while reading a newspaper*
Drillman : As you all remember, the War has left the world in a pretty unstable state, and this country could turn back to anarchy any time. It's our duty to help and ...
Diveman : Bullshit.
Drillman : What ?
Diveman : I said, "Bullshit". Why should we help people who were ready to sacrifice us less than a year ago ? This country doesn't deserve us.
Drillman : B-but ...
Ringman : AM has a point. We don't pretty much have anywhere else to go. Besides, by working with the officials, we'd get a better image, isn't it ?
Toadman : Sure, but going from freedom fighters to government's lapdogs ... And we don't have the friendliest people here to start with.
Dustman : It's only a matter of relationship ! With the right person working on PR, I believe ...
Diveman : The "right person" being ... ? Hoover-Boy, ye're the smartest here, I believe ya have an idea ?
Dustman : No need to be a genius to see the country has bigger and urgent problems.
Diveman : Yeah, sure. And only a moron can believe WE can solve 'em. Ye know jack about what's happenin' around the world ... trust me.
Dustman : We're informed enough, I'd say. None of those problems are unsolvable. All it takes is some brains.
Diveman : What ye lack less, heh ? You're just a bunch of clowns ! All we can do to help th' world is beating up other clowns, and ya imagine that's th' most important ?
Toadman : Well, we could ...
Diveman : Stop joking around. I'll show you the problem. *grabs the world map*
Drillman : What are you doing ?
Diveman : We've been an inch close to this. *burns the map* A bad move, and Sean here will be th' smartest ash pile. Now, if ya excuse me, I got a meeting with Mrs Palmers. *leaves*
Drillman : We'll ... talk again another day.
BrightBabe : I'll be in my room.
Ringman : *to AM* So ... Star Wars ?
Drillman : *shrugs* Good plan, I think.
(Just after the end of the War. Geoff and Jade are "chilling out" at Nonsteropolis. Fireworks are launched to celebrate.)
Diveman : *pouring himself a glass of Bourbon* Fuckin' noise. As if we didn't see enough fireworks already.
Pharaohman : Victory over the SA has importance for everyone.
Diveman : Well, gee. Average American doesn't care who won, as long as it's not th' mass-murderer. I mean, had we lost ... I dunno. Would've been a mad world. But hey, we won !*drinks his glass* To Crorq.
Pharaohman : Why are you so bitter ? You have a funny attitude ... towards life and towards war.
Diveman : Funny ? Jade ... All of this, it's only a joke. And once ya got that, ya take part in the comedy.
Pharaohman : These towns razed down, the mass genocides ... are part of the joke ?
Diveman : Never said t'was a funny gag, eh ! I only played along ... Wow ! Did ya catch this ?
*A helicopter just landed in Nonsteropolis, and out comes the US President, James Weaving.*
Diveman : First chopper here since the ceasefire. Next elections are in the pocket. I'm takin' first one out !
Pharaohman : Are you eager to leave ?
Diveman : Don't fuck wit' me, Jade. I puke on this country. I puke on th' RPD, Crorq and this stale Bourbon. First chopper leavin'.
? : Mr Diveman ?
Diveman : Great. Th' dominatrix.
Amatista : The War is over, Diveman. But we have some loose ends to clear.
Diveman : We have nothing to say ta each other, she-bitch. Not wit' words, anyway.
Amatista : Mind if I leave you a note, then ?
Diveman : Wha- ? *Amatista's slasher cuts out half of Diveman's face* My face ... You bitch !
Pharaohman : Geoff ?
Diveman : *prepares a Dive Missile* Fuckin' bitch ...
Pharaohman : Geoff, no... *Diveman shoots* Not this !
Diveman : Doc ? Where's th' Doc ? Fuckin' whore...
Pharaohman : You shot her, Geoff ... Well, at least she wasn't pregnant.
Diveman : *walking off* Kids would've been ugly. And I only KO'd her. But I'll tell ya, Jade...
Ya watched me. Ya could've turned my missiles to mist, the explosive charges ta bubblegum, or th' slasher in snowflakes ... or ya could've teleported her or me in Australia ... and ya didn't move a finger.
Pharaohman : ...
Diveman : Ya don't care about human life. Oh, I watched you. Ya barely care about Jet.
Pharaohman : You're just wrong.
Diveman : *not listening* Ye're gettin' away from everything, Jade. Turning ta ghost. May god take care !
Pharaohman : *looking at Amy getting back on here feet* My magic doesn't work that way, still.
(The time is 20XX, shortly after John joined the Comrades.
Political situation in Russia is still critic - the economy is slowly rebuilding itself, and the humans are somewhat justified in distrusting machines to help them. This led to nation-wide strikes and riots.
Turns out the Comrades were asked to help...)
Ringman : *driving the Cossack-Mobile* Please evacuate the street, ladies and gentlemen...
Diveman : Got it, ya assholes ? Back to yer bung-holes ! And I got some lacrymo ta help you findin' th' path back !
Ringman : No need to panic. The policeman riot is in negotiations...
Diveman : *gets hit by a soda can* Aak ! Now, that's it !
Crowd Bystander 1 : You pig ! A "hero of the nation" - hah ! You're a freaking rapist !
Crowd Bystander 2 : Down with robot vigilantes ! We want REAL cops !
Diveman : *prepares his grenade* One potato, two potato...
Crowd Bystander 3 : I lost my son to the SA, you retards !
Diveman : ... three potato ! *tosses the grenade*
Ringman : We're extremely sorry, but you leave us no choice. Leave the street - this is some dangerous mess...
*steps out of the Cossack-Mobile* That's a real nightmare, sir ! The whole city is under pressure. And it's gonna blow soon...
Diveman : hah ! Just' look at 'em. Outta th' way, assholes !
Ringman : Mr Diveman, I said...
Diveman : I heard, rookie. Accordin' ta Sean, they'll get a new law voted. And until then, we gotta protect th' civilians. Pressure or not. We gotta keep it up.
Ringman : Protect ? Protect them from what exactly ?
Diveman : From themselves, ya dense ! Do ya believe we only fight those Halloween-cosplayers morons ! By th' way ... where are Kermit and th' others ?
Ringman : Jade and Jet are taking care of the riots in Moscow. Regulus and Hunter are over there, trying to tame the eastern suburbs. They are ... getting distant.
Diveman : Reg's losing it, man. Ever since ... well, that time. And th' War, of course. Left everyone shocked !
Ringman : But not you ?
Diveman : I make th' part of things. Only see th' funny side. *fires harpoons at a tagger* Drop that paintbomb, ya !
*walks closer to the wall, where "Who watches the Watch-" is written in fresh paint* Ha ! We only see that tag since two weeks. They hate us ... and don't trust us.
Ringman : That situation is ... horrible ...
Diveman : I prefer when they get mad at us ! At least, we know where to stand.
Ringman : But that world is crumbling to pieces ... What happened to the dream of world peace ?
Diveman : We're cleanin' up the closest attempt so far. Now, back on yer feet. They want some change, they'll get it.
(Back to the funeral.)
Priest : Our father who art in Heaven, please take care of this lost soul. Show him the way to the light he turned his back to all his life, and bring him redemption. Amen.
(At the funeral, as all left, there was a skeleton-shaped individual who left, as inconpiscuously as possible. We follow him to his way back home - an old, abandoned church. He removes his trenchcoat - to reveal a cloak-, prepares tea for himself, opens his fridge, and...)
Skullman : *jumping out of the fridge, tackles said individual*
? : And so, I am met by the imitation of Man at last. If this is the way to go, then God has a delightful irony.
Toadman : *walks into the kitchen* I'd prefer if you didn't badmouth my partners, Wraithman. Granted, he's not Zy, but I happen to like him.
Skullman : Wraithman.
Wraithman : Indeed. And I can assure you I am as innocent as a lamb in whatever affair you investigate.
Skullman : *twists Wraithman's arm* Keep on lying, and you will get a broken arm.
Wraithman : What is it you want, wretched parody of God's creation ?
Toadman : I don't like this tone. Hunter ?
Skullman : *nods, breaks Wraithman's arm*
Toadman : You just came bak from a funeral. Don't bother denying it.
Skullman : Why ?
Wraithman : I ... do not know. I was merely attending the mass. I was thinking of Diveman ever since he met me and...
Skullman : *rams Wraithman in the wall*
Wraithman : What have I said to turn your hollow-ness to anger ?!
Skullman : Diveman here ? Why ?!
Toadman : You were enemies. Why did he visit you ?
Wraithman : I don't know. I woke up, and here he was, drunk and yelling insanities...
Toadman : *nods* That's Dive all right.
Wraithman : I was scared. He seemed crazy ... more than usual. And I assumed he was here to kill me. A week later, I learned his death. This was his last show.
A WEEK AGO
Diveman : A farce. That's what it's all now. I'll tell ya, when it all started, I just had ta sweep th' streets. Everything was simple. World was hard, and we hafta get harder, period. It's over.
Y'see, it started with that band ... quite th' farce. And ye were part of it, eh ? Truth be told, th' world would be better off without ya, but ya got off without charges. "Reprogrammin'", my arse.
Damn, got nothin' ta drink, here ? *rummages through the room* Ya know, everyone seems ta think I'd have fit in. For th' most part, they're right. *finds a bottle and swallows it down* Cuz I'm a violent asshole. Had I known all the things I did in th' War ... well, I'd have carried on, and enjoyed every part of it. *starts laughing* But I'm still a level above yer old merry band. What use have I of a clean and polished world. That's why I'll never get yer mind.
*grabs Wraithman's collar* How can yer kind be so cold ? Explain me. Someone. *barfs all over Wraithman*
Wraithman : And then, he was gone. I don't know. It was some drunk man's rambling.
Skullman : Hrrm. Strange. Incredible, even.
Toadman : But probably true.
Wraithman : So, is the question over ? Am I sinless in your eyes ?
Toadman : You ? Pshah. I got your house investigated during the funeral.
Skullman : *picks up a bottle from his cloak* Drugs.
Wraithman : What ? But -
Toadman : Some class-A Nucleon. Illegal. Last importator ... well, let's say some yellow jeep will have trouble walking. *chuckles*
Wraithman : I beg of you ... It works when everything else failed ... Please, don't take it. I suffer from robo-rust.
Skullman : Robo-rust ? What kind ?
Wraithman : Heh-heh. You know the kind that eventually stops spreading ?
Toadman : Yes.
Wraithman : It's the other kind.
Skullman : Hrrm.
Toadman : Alright. If you ever meet Swindle again, tell him I said hi. I believe you - for now.
Skullman : See you later. No follies.
Regulus' Journal, 16th October, 20XX :
42nd Street. Suggestive chests on every wall, on every pavement. I'm proposed french love, swedish love ... not Russian one.
Okay, I took a wrong turn. But I kept thinking about Wraithman. His story may be false. He could've planned revenge for ... what, exactly ?
It may be true. After all, it's not above Dive to barge in someone's house, threaten them, drink their booze and barf everywhere. I still regret the carpet in my room.
Let's not despair. After all, I'm still alive.
The cemetary. All those clean crosses, forever waiting for the sub to vandalize them. I'm here for a last homage.
Geoff Tarbox. Known to the world as Diveman, asshole robot extraordinaire. is it our fate for all ? Always fighting, and ending with friends like this. And when all is done, your enemies send you roses.
All those violent deaths. Zy, Zapper, the Assassins... we don't have the choice to die in our beds. is it our personality that wants it ? An animal need to fight makes us what we are ? Regardless, we do what must be done.
Some plunge their head in the swollen breast of lust and pleasure, like piglets below the womb of their mother ... but no shelter. The future heads at us like an express.
Diveman understood it. He laughed at the cracks in society, and the efforts of those trying to mend it. He saw the true face of mankind, and fully embraced it. No one found it funny, except him.
But now, that is over. And the laugh must carry on.
So much for investigation. Tonight, I have a Comrade to remember. An excuse like another to get plastered.