Lobster. Wicked-Good.

[velesdonnersen]

[Tarvek has not had Maine Lobster, but by GOD the boy has had Parisian homard, and he knows dinner when it comes creeping through town.  Giant crabs, giant lobsters... he even thinks he sees a few giant clams. (Clams got legs!) Seeing them, he knows just what to do

Comments

[ooeeooahah]

[ Ilsa has been more annoyed than culinarily-inspired by the crab-monster that tried to carry her off on her way to work. ]

This one has a zipper! I'm not sure I want to eat this!

[ It blows up real good when Ilsa sets fire to it. ]

[velesdonnersen]

[What-say-what?!?!?!]

Zipper? Zipper!?

[Races on over, scowling, to stand beside Ilsa, looking at the smoking corpse.]

Verdammt. Blue lighting! That's not a proper crab, Ilsa. That's not even a proper Spark crab! That's....that's....that's an *atrocity.* an insult to mad science!

Bah. It's even an insult to bad film-making.

[He scoots forward, and prods the remains.]

I wonder... is there a person in there?

[ooeeooahah]

I didn't sense one...

[ Ilsa frowns. ]

... not even at the level that the drones have.

[velesdonnersen]

[Swears, almost cheerfully, in Romanian. After all, this is pure Mayfield: so stoooooopid. Fake monsters with zippers but no operators

[ooeeooahah]

[ Ilsa shakes her head at him. ]

It's not supposed to be paradise, 'bibi.

[ Watching another giant mantis lurch along the net street over. ]

I'm not so sure this is anything but a pressure valve, though the thing with the pods was...

[ She shudders. ]

[velesdonnersen]

So far, liebchen, it is all nothing but games. Stupid, silly games.

[ooeeooahah]

[ Oh, that comment's going to come back and bite you, isn't it? ]

I'd almost say this week was written by a hack on a bender.

[ Then Ilsa is grabbed by another opportunistic giant monster. ]

Oh, now really!