Cossack's Comrades

Cossack's Comrades Season 1 Epilogue 2
“Meet Your New Daddy”

(Scene: A junkyard. Night. A worker is seen inspecting the contents of a nearby dump truck. It is stashed to the brim with deceptively adorable, disembodied heads with feet.)


Junkyard Worker: Hmmm… Mets! Them helmets are harder to crack then they’re worth. Can’t send ‘em through the compactor.

Dump Truck Driver: Eh? Then where do you want ‘em?

Junkyard Worker: Shark pit.

Dump Truck Driver: …shark pit?

Junkyard Worker: Dude, it’s 20XX. Junkyards nowadays can have shark pits if they want to.

Dump Truck Driver: But don’t you think the compactor would do a better—

Junkyard Worker: IT’S 20XX. IT’S THE FUTUUUUUUURE.

Dump Truck Driver: Well, whatever.

(The truck backs up to the, um, shark pit, but—BUMP!!! It stops dead in its tracks. The driver finds himself beneath a vast shadow, while—CLUNK, CLUNK, CLUNK. He feels something hacking away at the backside of his truck. Clatter, clatter… the sound of its contents rolling free, but to the safety of the ground rather than… seriously, a shark pit?)

Ominous Voice: Explain yourself.

Dump Truck Driver: No, explain YOURSELF, fatass! I’m tryin’ to do my job!

Ominous Voice: A “job,” is it? They too had a job, and they did it with such dedication and efficiency.

Dump Truck Driver: Those metools? Oh come on, they’re obsolete, we have new machinery at the construction site now; so if you would just move outta the—

(It moves. The grand figure that stopped the truck from behind launched itself into the air, just as soon landing at its front. A small quake rocks the vicinity, sending mountains of discarded scrap metal cascading to the ground. All the driver could see out of his windshield now was a giant eye. The eye of a massive metool.)

Met Daddy: Obsolete? Their paint jobs are barely scratched. They haven’t even been deactivated. So tell me… why do you wish to rob me of my children?

Dump Truck Driver: Hey, them’s the breaks, pal. Machines live out their usage, they’re scrapped and replaced. That’s just the kinda society we live in, so you oughta deal with it and—

Met Daddy: Enough! Now tell me… how long have my children been employed at your construction site?

Dump Truck Driver: Eh, give or take three weeks…

Met Daddy: And how long have you been in the business?

Dump Truck Driver: 33 years, why?

Met Daddy: 33 years? Huh, imagine that. If there’s anybody obsolete… *kicks the entire dump truck, driver and all, into the shark pit* …it’s you.

Dump Truck Driver: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH *splash*

Shark: My, what a magnificent specimen… mmm, yes… your DNA, I must have it! *munch munch munch*

Metools: M-meep?

Met Daddy: Don’t look, kids. It’s barbaric, yes; but alas, this is the cruel fate humanity subjects unto us. Humanity, along with its “robot master” doppelgangers.

Metools: M-m-m-m-meep… *they all huddle close to Met Daddy*

Met Daddy: It’s alright, little ones. Daddy’s here, and the bad man’s gone now.

Junkyard Worker: Well, um, I’ll just… begoingnowthankyou.

(The worker attempts to slink away, only to find a giant pickaxe suspended a hair’s length from the tip of his nose.)

Met Daddy: You aren’t a bad man… are you? *inches his oversized pickaxe closer to the worker’s face*

Junkyard Worker: Um, heh, well, you see, all I do is breed super-intelligent sharks to be geneticists, um, side hobby you see, depends on whether or not you consider that bad— *the axe suddenly leaves a large scratch across his face* OUCH! That wasn’t very nice!

Met Daddy: *draws back his axe* Consider this a warning of what will happen to your race – human and robot master alike – should you continue to treat us as “mere machines.” Not just us metools, but ALL worker mechaniloids.

Junkyard Worker: Um okay, s-sure thing, dude. BYE. *runs*

Met Daddy: Tell your kind what you just saw! If I don’t see reform, there will be rebellion!


(Days pass. Our attention now turns to Cossack’s Comrades. Their job is to stop dimensional anomalies and such.)

Grotesque Alien Squid Monster: RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRGH!!! *explodes*

Drill Man: We did it, team!

Toad Man: SQUID GUTS YESSSSSSSSSSS *begins to devour the alien remains* Here guys you want some?! *splatters everyone with pieces of said monster* SHARING IS FUN!

Bright Babe: EEEeeeh… *wince* let’s go home!

(Scene: Home sweet home)

Dust Man: My, things sure have been eventful as of late, but I must stop to ponder. We are now an extension of the Monsteropolis RPD, are we not? And yet we haven’t been doing police work, only exterminating eldritch monsters and what have you not. Surely the Robot Police have a use for us, I mean, our performances in the past few days have surely—

Kalinka: Are you really so eager to be ordering McDonalds for Chief Crorq “the Magnificent?”

Dust Man: It is not that I am not fulfilled with covert operations to keep the dimensions in balance, but nevertheless, our initial purpose as police bots remains lost if we are not doing police work, I mean, we should be arresting people and keeping order and eating donuts and—

Kalinka: Look, you had a tough day, and your blathering is going to wear you out even more. Although, I could spare a donut or two.

Toad Man: DONUTZ!!!! *bites the ring ornament on Ring Man’s head* It’s a donut! OOH! And maybe I can blow bubbles out of it too!! BUBBLES BUBBLES BUBBLES~

Ring Man: *sighs, and handcuffs Toad Man* Well, at least I got to fulfill my duties as an officer, I suppose.

Dust Man: I shall take him to the holding cell until he is needed. *drags a screaming Toad away*

Toad Man: I’ll get you for this, vacuum man! When I escape, I’LL HAVE MY REVENGE, MY ETERNAL NEMESIIIIIII— *locked away*

(And so, the rest of the team members were left to enjoy their donuts in peace.)

Kalinka: You like? I baked them myself.

Bright Babe: YUM! Kalinka, these donuts are something else!

Skull Man: Indeed. This sensation of “taste” pleases me.

Ring Man: Come to think of it, they do remind me of my weapon. You just HAD to use the golden frosting, huh…

(Suddenly, an overhead screen turns on, bearing a familiar visage.)

Crorq: INFIDELS! IT IS I, CRORQ THE MAGNIFICENT! I have a VERY IMPORTANT mission for you lot, and I ORDER you here at the station RIGHT THIS INSTANT!

(The video becomes coated with a chewed up mess of food before shutting off. The Comrades emerge from their seats, and begin their dash for the teleporter room.)

Dust Man: Well, it would seem the force would have a use for us after all. And judging from the makeup of the food that covered the screen, I’d wager it consisted of 28% Chicken McNuggets, 20% Big Mac, 22% fries, 14% milkshake and 16% Happy Meal toy. He already had his McDonalds, so surely we are needed for something greater.

Dive Man: Whoa whoa whoa, hold on, sucky. D’ ya make it yer business to go ‘round inspectin’ peoples’ vomit?!

Dust Man: No, that is more Toad’s domain. But really, more has entered my vacuum than you could ever imagine, be it intentional or not; and yes, I have learned to sort and categorize each intake by amount and potential use.

(Nobody questions it.)

Drill Man: I took the liberty of freeing… it… from the holding cell.

Toad Man: REVEEEEEEEEENGE *goes to slap Dust Man, but instead trips and falls on his face* GAH!! FOILED AGAIN!!

Drill Man: I feel everyone’s pain, but we’ll need a full team for the… say, where’s Pharaoh?

(In her room…)

Pharaoh Woman: Ulp… meeting with head diplomat Crorq… I… I can do this… *puts on her pharaoh headdress, adjusting it with care* …must… make an impression… avoid hostilities… not start any wars…

Drill Man: Avi? Err, “your majesty?” We need you for the mission!

Ring Man: You know, Crorq won’t care if you’re not wearing any makeup under that mask, so come on!

Dive Man: But would it kill ta take a damn shower? OF COURSE IT WOULD, the smell o’ thousand year-old mummy farts typically don’t go over well at UN meetins’. Hello World War Five!

Toad Man: BATH TIIIIIME *spits at Pharaoh* All clean!

Kalinka: *with shotgun* Look, could everyone please just get into the teleporters, lest I never hear the end of it?

(And so, the robots teleport straight to RPD headquarters.)



Pharaoh Woman: *slowly approaching the supercomputer chief of police* Um, like… err, GREETINGS, O diplomat! We represent the mighty empire of sweet Mother Russia, and would be most—

*she gets pelted with chewed up hamburgers*

Toad Man: OOH! If I annoy him, will he spit food at me too?! YELLOW YELLOW YELLOW YELLOW

Crorq: Well? What are you tin cans doing just standing here? The soda machine downstairs is broken! Fix it, replace it, whatever—and bring me back some Pepsi! *storms out of the room*

Toad Man: N-no food? *sulk*

Dust Man: I’ve made a woeful miscalculation. He did indeed consume McDonalds, but it seems he has forgotten to order a drink. I MISSED THIS CRUCIAL DETAIL! I was a fool to have thought that we’d be assigned to something greater…

Bright Babe: Hey hey, it’ll be okay, Dust. If the vending machine needs fixing, this should give you the chance to show off your mechanic skills!


Dust Man: Um, wow. I don’t know if I can fix THIS…

Bright Babe: Just try your best. I know you can do it!

Dust Man: Do you not SEE the bodies surrounding that thing?!

(At least five unconscious officers surround the soda machine. The humans lay bleeding, while the robot officers are scattered around the room in pieces.)

Drill Man: My GOD! That machine must be possessed. CURSED, even! Is anyone here equipped to perform a robo-exorcism?

Pharaoh Woman: Allow me! *approaches the machine, produces a coin, and holds it into the air* With this gleaming talisman, I shall expunge the Pepsi-demon from the very depths of your being!

(She inserts the coin into the machine, and backs away.)

Pharaoh Woman: And now, I call upon the powers of Osiris to, um… *goes to press the “Pepsi” button, hand shaking* FREE THIS MORTAL VESSEL FROM THE… BAD… STUFF!

(She turns her head away as she hastily taps the button. Rumbling can be heard from inside the machine; at which point she makes a dash towards the opposite end of the room.)

Pharaoh Woman: The spirits are restless! To your positions, for the wrathful deluge is upon us!

(A Pepsi can is harmlessly dispensed.)

Dive Man: Huh. Dunno wha’s wrong with them saps on the floor, machine seems to be working just fine.

(Suddenly it starts shooting Pepsi cans in every which direction! Toad Man gets canned in the face. Everybody celebrates. But not for long, as the speed at which the cans soar is enough to take down a bull elephant – or at least, form holes in the station wall!

The Comrades execute many fancy evasive maneuvers, while the cans turn the walls into Swiss cheese. For a time, there seems to be no end to the unrelenting barrage. That is, until the soda machine stops to speak.)

Soda Machine: You want soda?! THEN TAKE IT, ya ingrates!

Ring Man: It… talks?

Soda Machine: “It talks.” Of course “IT” talks! IT is a worker mechaniloid! I’m a robot too, y’know, but no one ever stops to acknowledge me, it’s all like, GIMME SODA from you guys, and whenever a can gets jammed in me, they all go round KICKIN’ and SHAKIN’ me like I’m some kinda… THING!

Bright Babe: Oh no… that’s awful! I’m sorry that you—

Soda Machine: Sorry, SORRY?! PAH, I’ve had it up to here with you so-called “people!” And before you say, “WE GIVE YOU MONEY,” where in the seven hells do you think the money goes? I’ll tell you. NOT TO ME!!

(The soda machine begins to wheel away from its post near the wall.)

Soda Machine: Your fellow “people,” every night, strip me of my modesty, and rob me of my coins! The one reward I get from enduring you all! GONE. Just like that! And then they fill me with even more of these infernal cans, forcing me to continue serving you lot. Do you think I LIKE having all this pepsi in me?! I’d much prefer Coke, thank you!

(It crashes through a wall, attempting to escape the station…)

Drill Man: After it!

(The machine rampages through the station, taking out wall after wall. The chase leads the comrades to the streets of Monsteropolis.)

Bright Babe: Please, stop this at once!

(Bright releases a blinding burst of light from her bulb. The immense electrical charge causes the soda machine to stop in its tracks, allowing the Comrades to form a circle around it.)

Bright Babe: We do not wish to harm you. So could you please just tell us what the meaning of all this is?

Soda Machine: Grrr… what’s it matter to you lot?

Skull Man: We have orders to either fix or replace you. Don’t make us choose the latter route.

Soda Machine: Back to treating me like a “thing…” none of you understand. I was created with a personality, just like you all! HOW WOULD YOU LIKE IT?!

(The machine shakes violently in rage. And then, it dispenses a few cans to the ground, which explode into a storm of fizz! Caught off guard, the Comrades are blinded, and promptly tossed aside as the machine swiftly wheels into each of them. When they came to, the machine had vanished into the streets.)

Ring Man: Gah… it’s gone. Nevertheless, I shall track it down using my detective skills! Now let’s see, given the temperature needed to maintain the structural stability of the ambient dampening harmonics…

Random Passerby: Yo, did you just see that talking soda machine just now?! Babbling about meeting someone’s daddy for a rebellion in Tetriminov, Russia. What a weirdo! *skateboards away*

Ring Man: …um, what?

Dust Man: Tetriminov is a small village in the Siberian mountain ranges that remains notable for… well, absolutely nothing, in truth. I only know of it because, well, you know how I obsess over the smallest things; um, really, I know it’s not healthy and all, but…

Drill Man: Then let us waste no time. To the teleportation station!


(They soon find themselves in a decidedly unassuming mountain forest.)

Drill Man: These trees, man… look at them, looming over us like they own the place… they just scream “REBELLION!”

Skull Man: Highly improbable. They are trees. Their fundamental role is to remain completely stationary.

Drill Man: In other words, JUST LIKE A SODA MACHINE! Eat this, rebellious scum!

(Drill Man drills into one of the trees. Nothing else happens.)

Skull Man: When you are done “quelling the rebellion,” let us be on our way to the village.

(Some few yards away, they come to the village—its remains, rather.)

Bright Babe: Oh, no! Those poor people!

Skull Man: Yes, how horrible. How dare those fiends expedite the inevitable. Let us find them and eliminate them.

Junkyard Worker: *crawling out from under the wreckage* Auuuuughh…

Bright Babe: Hey! Hold on!

(Bright rushes to the man’s aid, gently helping him up off the ground.)

Bright Babe: Hey now, everything will be alright…

Skull Man: Idle comforts. Life expectancy is approximately five minutes. *approaches the man* Tell us what has happened.


Dive Man: Idiot, yer scarin’ ‘em. *shoves Skull out of the way* …so, yeah, ol’ Skeletor over here says ya got five minutes. So STOP WASTIN’ ‘EM and tell us what the hell happened!!

Pharaoh Woman: !! T-traumatizing is no better than scaring! *shoves Dive out of the way, contaminating him with Avi germs no doubt* um, like, look, I’ll uh, just, like, tell the gods to spare you for a… STAY WITH US! PLEASE, I BESEECH OF THEE!

Junkyard Worker: Heh… you’re all… wasting my time…

Junkyard Worker: Okay, so… I was feeding my genetically altered cyborg sharks in the river, and then… metools… many metools… led by a big one… who scratched my pretty face, by the way…

Drill Man: The Met King?!

Junkyard Worker: He called himself… “Met Daddy”… he came for… the mine…

Dust Man: Oh, yes, I remember now. Tetriminov was built over a large mettanium deposit, but the mining operation never quite made it off the ground… hence, the village’s non-reputation for absolutely nothing.

Junkyard Worker: Yes… we had mining robots… they broke down early on… no one bothered to fix them… for years… they were left to rust. This made… Met Daddy… very mad… so he decided to punish us. Those who survived… left the town… you should, too… there’s… nothing left…


(Scene: the mines. Metools sing cheerily as they hack away at walls of mettanium ore.)

Metools: Meep~ meep~ meep!

Met Daddy: Oh ho ho, you all seem so eager for new brothers and sisters! Wouldn’t you know, we’ve made several dozen already! And here they are!

(Many more metools join their brethren, engaging in song and dance as they free chunk after chunk from the wall. Each piece of ore is swiftly collected by rail-free, robotic mine trolleys, which pour in and out of the room by the second.)

Met Daddy: I’d say we’re well ahead of schedule! If any of you want, feel free to take a break. You’ve earned it!

Robotic Tree: *enters* Sir, I think the Commies onto us, if this drill hole in my side is anything to speak of.

Met Daddy: My god! Are you alright?!

Robotic Tree: Eh, I’m built to withstand this kind of punishment. It’s the Commies we should be worried about!

Met Daddy: Hrm… damn them. Just when my children have earned a break! I don’t want to have them fight… especially not this early in the game…

(A very determined, and very numerous group of Mets surround their Daddy.)

Met Daddy: You… wish to fight? I… very well. While I can indeed make more, know that no new metools can possibly replace each and every one of you individually. So please… come back alive!

(The soda machine enters.)

Soda Machine: Wow, I’m a Coke machine now! And I’m FULL of coins! Thanks, Met Daddy! You’re the best… huh? Why you looking so glum?

Met Daddy: I’m going to have to ask you to evacuate to the shelter. You, and everyone who isn’t a metool or otherwise comprised of mettainium alloy.

Soda Machine: Huh? What’s going on?

Met Daddy: We may be under attack soon, and I may need to resort to… extreme measures.

Soda Machine: *nods, in whatever way a soda machine can* U-understood. I’ll make the announcement!

(The soda machine wheels away, and the robotic tree follows.)


(Scene: Outside the mine. It remains heavily guarded by legions of metools.)

Bright Babe: Whoa… I’ve never seen so many mets in one place.

Ring Man: Hmm. They may be weak, but we mustn’t underestimate their numbers. Perhaps we should approach this from a—

Toad Man: *rushing towards them* Flippy Tooooooooad! AWAAAAAAAAAAAY!!!

(The mets surround him. The team collectively facepalms.)

Drill Man: Just great. They’re ALL onto us now! *whirrs drills*

(Drill burrows into the ground. He hollows out a series of tunnels below the mets, before setting off a series of strategically placed drill bombs. As he bursts forth from below, all bear witness as the metools, along with Toad Man, fall deep into the earth.)

Dive Man: Humph, not bad. Now watch ‘n learn!

(Dive drops a barrage of depth charges into the newly formed sinkhole. The explosions that ensue see many battered met hats tossed high into the air, along with one Flippy Toad. Pharaoh Woman, who is seen levitating above the pit, catches him.)

Toad Man: Oof! …HAH! See that? I, the great Flippy Toad, have saved the day!

Pharaoh Woman: Foolish mortal! You have endangered our well-being by disturbing the delicate balance of… like, stealthy stealth… ness… and, um… FACE THE JUDGEMENT OF MA’AT! *spanks him*

Toad Man: Owww…

Pharaoh Woman: Ma’at’s feather of truth spares no tickles to the ticklish! Embrace unto your soul the team dynamic-y stuff, or forever be damned to Ancient Egyptian Hell!

Toad Man: Fine, whatever, can we explore the cave now can we explore the cave now can we explore the cave now?!

Ring Man: Seeing as how your… “surprise attack” gave us all away to the rebels anyway, I suppose we might as well. Sigh.

(They all travel into the mines.)

Dust Man: So, there is a rebellion brewing. Apparently mechaniloids and self-aware appliances demand the same rights as people; “people” being comprised of humans and robot masters. So is it now our mission to quell this rebellion, or are we merely recapturing the inexplicably talking soda machine?

Drill Man: All Crorq cares about is the soda. But the rebellion, man… I don’t like it one bit! If things are allowed to go on here, soon the world’s talking toasters will be using PEOPLE to warm their bread! The street lamps will be lighting US on fire, and OH MAN don’t even get me started on the food processors!

Toad Man: So in other words, things would be as they always were. … …Get it? We live in Russia? Russian reversal? TV watches you and all that? Huh?! HUH?!

Skull Man: The idea of us being used as food blenders is most nauseating. Let us end this before the speech-enabled toilets catch on.

(They continue their trek. Soon enough, scores of metools pour from every nook and cranny!)

Metools: MEEP MEEP MEEP *they arm their pickaxes, and charge towards the comrades*


(A blinding blast from her bulb causes the mets to jam up, frozen in place. Although rendered helpless, their numbers grow all the more apparent in suspended animation. The Comrades, save a lazy Toad Man, immediately get to work dispatching them, although not as swiftly as one would hope.

The Flash Stopper’s effect is finite, and each blast subsequently requires a lengthy recharge on Bright’s part. This, coupled with the numerous mets’ indestructible helmets, prompts the team to rethink their strategy.

Potentially, one attack could take out the entire enemy force in one fell swoop. Unfortunately, said attack could only be executed by Toad Man.)

Pharaoh Woman: *to Toad Man* O wretched abomination from the infernal depths, I summon thee! Lend unto us your aid!

Toad Man: *sitting on the ground, picking his nose* You want my help? You don’t DESERVE my help. Not after you spanked me as thanks for my heroism!

Pharaoh Woman: Erm, look, I’m, I’m uh, sorry, so now like, I COMMAND of thee, rise from your throne of stone and gravel, and like, SMITE these heathens with a divine torrent of acidy acidic… acid, you acid-hole! P-please?

Toad Man: *nibbling on a piece of one of the destroyed mets* Only if you address me as “my lord.”

Pharaoh Woman: Please, m-my lord… *burries her face in shame*

Toad Man: *gets up* Fine. Just because I pity you… *begins his rain dance*

Metools: *they begin to twitch*

Bright Babe: Hurry up! They won’t hold for much longer…

Toad Man: *dancing* HAH! Look at their puny little faces, as they stare in wonder at my grand performance! *more dancing* And now, I present to you, my adoring audience… RAIN FLUSH!

(With that, a torrential downpour would tear all throughout the vicinity, reducing the mets to little more than corroded heaps of rust. But of course, that’s what WOULD have happened, had the mets not sprang back to life to dog pile Toad Man.)



(Scene: much deeper in the mine)

Bright Babe: Was it wrong for us to ditch him like that?

Dive Man: Pshaw, hell naw! Now leave it ta me ta once again finish the job!

(He fires missiles at the roof of the cave, causing a cascade of boulders to block the path from whence they came.)

Dive Man: There. Now we don’t have ta worry ‘bout mets nor that Flippin’ load o’ Toad!

Bright Babe: I know he’s obnoxious, but he’s still our teammate… will he be alright?

Skull Man: Death comes to all… except Toad Man. He is not unlike a cockroach. The probability of his survival is unfortunately guaranteed.

Met Daddy: But the probability of yours is not, Cossack’s Comrades!

Drill Man: So it is you, Met King!

Met Daddy: “Met King?” I am aware that you have, long ago, fought with and destroyed my predecessor. Him, I am not. I am the Met King Mk. II – Met Daddy. And I will create a bright future for my children – metool and mechaniloid alike!

Pharaoh Woman: A king, is he? *approaches Met Daddy and extends her hand* Your majesty… I am Queen Avi of, uh…

Met Daddy: So you are the self-proclaimed ruler of all humans and robots? Keep your filthy hand!

Pharaoh Woman: Eeep, um, sorry, d-didn’t realize you had no hands! Sorry sorry sorry… *extends her foot instead* Erm, um, yeah, O ruler of metkind, we would wish to avoid further bloodshed, and like, negotiate and stuff…

Met Daddy: Waltzing into Mettopia uninvited does little to warm me up, invaders!

Dust Man: Invaders? “Mettopia?” I was pretty certain that we still remain within the borders of Tetriminov, coupled with the fact that no such location as “Mettopia” even exists…

Met Daddy: It does now. Tetriminov was but a stepping stone in our grand design… Mettopia, a nation where all mechaniloids are treated with dignity and equality, free from oppression! *draws his massive pickaxe* And you stand as an obstacle!

(A brawl ensues. Met Daddy, despite being little more than an overgrown metool, proves to be a formidable foe. His pickaxe tears across the Comrades’ armor, sending a sprinkling of metallic dust throughout the room. When the Comrades attack, he deflects their advances with his indestructible helmet.

Soon, legions of metools rush to his aid, offering further annoyance. For each one that is destroyed, Met Daddy is sent deeper into a berserker rage. His advances become more violent, and infinitely more dangerous.)

Met Daddy: *slashing madly* What do you hope to gain by MURDERING my children?! *sends Pharaoh, Ring, and Skull flying, all at once* How would you like it?! HOW WOULD YOU LIKE TO WATCH YOUR FAMILY DIE?!

(On cue, another group of mets enters the area. In the midst of them was Toad Man, bound and gagged.)


Drill Man: So the Met King has kidnapped Toad Man… why am I feeling déjà vu?

Met Daddy: Now, surrender! Or else your friend dies!

(The team continues attacking him.)

Met Daddy: GAH! Typical! Your kind knows no compassion! Disgusting… well, my children, give them what they want. Off with his head!

Metools: Meep! *they begin hacking at Toad’s head*


Dive Man: Yer not hackin’ hard enough! Put more OOMPH inta it! *eagerly pelts Met Daddy with missiles*

Met Daddy: *ducks, blocking the missiles with his helmet* Grrrrr… you really are child killers. I offer you a new deal! If you don’t leave Mettopia, we will spare Toad Man’s life!

Drill Man: Hmmmmm. You drive a hard bargain, mister. I don’t know… is finally being rid of him really worth being enslaved to appliances?

Skull Man: The logical answer would be “no,” regrettably. Toad Man is nigh impossible to kill regardless. Let us crush the rebellion before it grows out of our control.

Met Daddy: Grrr… You just… don’t care… *starts swinging his pickaxe wildly* Who are the real “emotionless machines” around here?! WHO?!

(The fight rages on. More metools are dispatched. Met Daddy becomes consumed in an unstoppable rage, all to the point where his guard is completely let down.

He is soon tossed about by the Comrades’ attacks, rebounding from wall to wall. As soon as he regains his footing, he is overcome with desperation. He repeatedly leaps up and crashes down onto the ground, sending tremors all throughout the vicinity. Stones break loose, covering every visible exit.

With nowhere to escape…)

Met Daddy: Nightlock, nightlock, nightlock!

Robot Voice: Passcode “nightlock, nightlock, nightlock” acknowledged. Commencing auto-destruct sequence.

Skull Man: Oh, no. The mine is going to collapse. Let us get out of here.

Drill Man: Everyone, follow me! *begins to drill a tunnel into the ground*

Met Daddy: Just try and make it out on time… *hides under his helmet, and his children do the same*

Drill Man: Now team, hang onto me, for… *begins to feel himself lifted off the ground* …huh?

(Drill Man, along with the rest of the team, suddenly find themselves hoisted upwards and helplessly stuck to a magnet crane!)

Met Daddy: Huh? What in the… shouldn’t you be in the shelter?!

Magnet Crane: Sorry, I’ve been hiding here the whole time… knew you’d need my help.

Met Daddy: But… the auto-destruct… it can’t be cancelled… you’re not made of mettanium; you’ll be crushed!

Magnet Crane: Heh. Better that than a world without a Mettopia…

Met Daddy: …

Magnet Crane: I’d otherwise be scrapped anyway. Our dream must be made a reality, no matter the cost. I shall stay with you until the end!

Met Daddy: I… thank you… my beloved child…

(Time is counting down. The comrades remain affixed to the magnet. They struggle with all their will, but are unable to break free…)

Dive Man: Mah only regret is bein’ stuck next ta Avi on this thing! BLECH, whatta way ta go…

Robot Voice: 15… 14… 13…

(Suddenly, a vicious torrent of acid rain tears through the room! The magnet crane collapses into a heap of rust, as the Comrades are dropped to the ground.

Although still bound and gagged, Toad Man had managed to pull off his rain dance.)

Toad Man: *clumsily dancing around* Mrrrrrrm!

Ring Man: We were NOT just saved by Toad Man. Surely, there must be some other force at work here!

Robot Voice: 9… 8… 7…

Bright Babe: *Shining her light behind the wreckage of the magnet crane* Look, a hidden tunnel!

(They rush though it, and find an underground river. A bionic shark swims about.)

Robot Voice: 3… 2… 1…

(The team mounts the bionic shark and rides it to safety. The entire cave begins to crumble behind them, as they coax the shark to outrun the carnage.

The shark travels through numerous underwater tunnels until it finally surfaces. The Comrades are now outside, at the riverbank in the searing daylight.)

Junkyard Worker: Wahoo! They laughed at me when they said my genetically altered cyborg sharks would do no good to our society. But who’s laughing now?!

Bright Babe: You’re alright! Whew… your shark is something else…

Junkyard Worker: Hey, you helped me, I helped you. YAY FOR EVERYONE!


(Scene: Much later, at Cossack’s citadel. The Comrades are being serviced in the repair bay.)

Kalinka: According to Crorq, your mission was a “colossal failure.” But I ordered him a new Pepsi machine – one that ISN’T self-aware – that shut him up for now.

Toad Man: But hey, at least I saved the day!

Dust Man: Yeah, about that, there was acid rain in the mine. Rain. INSIDE a mine. That makes absolutely no sense! Surely, this must be the work of some dimensional anomaly, as I refuse to acknowledge that such events could unfold naturally, much less courtesy of “Toad the Load!”

Ring Man: Or maybe a dimensional anomaly somehow caused Toad Man to be useful for once. Highly unlikely, however.


Kalinka: Having serviced the Toad Man model, I can confirm that he can, in fact, create storms indoors. So perhaps, just this once, we should lay off of him.

Drill Man: Well, if Ms. Cossack—

Kalinka: DOCTOR Cossack.

Drill Man: Well, if, uh, DOCTOR Cossack says so, I do suppose it wouldn’t kill to be a little nicer to him. So… thank you, Flippy.

Toad Man: Yaaaay I love you guys! Let’s all celebrate with a fine feast of um, um, what’s around here? …REPAIR PODS! *begins chewing on each one*

Drill Man: Key word: just a LITTLE nicer to him.

(And so, everyone laughed all happy-like, knowing that despite their failed efforts to get a gluttonous supercomputer its soda, the day has nonetheless been saved. …Or has it?)


(Scene: an underground shelter. A heavily battered Met Daddy enters, followed by equally damaged metool “children.”)

Soda Machine: Sir! So glad you’re alright!

Met Daddy: There were… losses. But nevertheless, no matter the sacrifice, we must press onward!

Robotic Tree: But you destroyed the mine above us…

Met Daddy: Yes, the one above us. That mine only scratched the surface of the mountain. Once everyone has healed up, we will move our operation below. It’s a good thing we had most of the mining units evacuated down here…

Mine Trolley: Hrm, but can we get back up there? It must be pretty caved in!

Met Daddy: All the better! If the Comrades assume that we survived, they’ll continue to think that they’ve severely damaged our operation. Or that I “did myself in with my own reckless stupidity.” The less of a threat we’re seen as, the better.

Mine Trolley: But, like, we’re trapped down here.

Met Daddy: We’re trapped down here… for now. No one will find us this way. Once we’ve amassed a greater army, only then will we reemerge from the earth. And for all that’s concerned, Tetriminov remains ours. And soon enough, the neighboring land will be, too. Mettopia shall grow and prosper, and the suffering of mechaniloids will forever be a thing of the past…


Cossack's Comrades

AM as Drill Man          Sean as Dust Man          Geoff as Dive Man

Jet as Bright Babe       Hunter as Skull Man

John as Ring Man       Avi as Pharaoh Woman       Flippy as Toad Man


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