Tropers: The Series

"I'm glad Cthulhy is gone. I'm sick of paying money to H.P. Lovecraft's estate as well."

edited 16th Jul '17 8:32:58 PM by TropesForever

"Well, we know which one you're *really* curious about, Bev..."

"Oh what, because of that time I thought we were going to get wedded, I'm suddenly slobbering all over him?"

"Ok, Bev, whatever you say..." Taco brought it back to the origin of the conversation. "Seriously though, those two have been gone ever since they were both taken in the back seats of those police cars..."

"I JUST WORRY OKAY, NOTHING MORE!!" She shouts.

"OKAY SO MAYBE THEY'RE ARRESTED OR SOMETHING, WHO KNOWS? AAAHHH WHO CARES!"

"Just how many NPCs are there now? I can't keep track."

"I'm sure they're fine, and not in prison in another show or anything. And there are lots of OCs, but a bunch of them are just copies of me."

Hours in the future, but not many...

A squad of goblins approached AP. He had fallen right into a generic ambush. He hoped for the best, and reached for his waist.

He had a sword. He was a paladin, after all. He drew it, and the goblins paused.

Then he exploded into action. Leaping into the air, he knocked the lead goblin's unidentifiable, indistinct weapin out of its hand with a swift smack of his sword. Then, he kicked another in the head as it drew back a bowstring. A third goblin threw its weapon, but AP caught it. He used it to bash the first goblin in the face, revealing its nature as a club of some kind, and then sliced the third in half with his sword. An unidentifiable number of enemies scrambled away in fear.

Finally, he was getting somewhere.

The present

My Lil' Pete frantically messages his twin.

"Hey! Two! You haven't responded for hours! Just send me something, okay? Okay!?"

Zerobot, meanwhile, frowned, noticing the message scrolling across his glasses' screen. Of course the other one had noticed this one turning off. Thinking quickly, he took the flash drive that had infected him with the status quo, and plugged it into his wrist, growing a USB slot where he needed it.

Then, he altered the code to shut down AIs who downloaded it, and plugged the glasses into the palm of his hand. Hacking into Pete #2's messaging systems, he sent the code, along with a message apologizing, claiming that it is an update for the chat system he had programmed to make it more efficient, which he had been using, but which could not get messages to #1 yet because he hadn't installed it.

Right before my ignorant eyes, the last AI still possessing free will silently shuts down.

edited 16th Jul '17 8:47:11 PM by ZeroL

"I am so sad. So offended. So sad."

"By what, Urnroses?"

"Urnist people."

Taco sighed. "Welp, I guess today's moral is pretty simple then, Urnroses."

...

"You damn urns all look alike!"

[boisterous audience laughter and applause ensues for the longest time recorded in the series]

"I...you..."

Episode 17: Urnrose Runs Away From Home

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAH" Urnrose runs over the horizon.

Taco sees the urn run off. "Urnrose, wait! We need diversity!" He breaks into a car, and drives after his only urn friend.

"All right, guys, we have a crisis! Penroses ran away because they were sick of being mocked for being an urn! Since it's been a while since I've built a robot, let's make a robot body for them!"

Wouldn't that still be urnist, though, and imply that remaining an urn is worse than being a robot?

"Uh..."

Hours in the future, but not many...

AP brandishes his holy sword(he's a paladin. Of course it's holy) at the monster in front of him. He can't quite tell what it is, but there's only one, so the forces of evil in this dungeon must be running out.

He charges, and the Abyss Dragon breathes a cloud of acidic void at him.

He leaps aside, gathering his will, and lets a beam of pure goodness shoot out the tip of his sword into the dragon's head. It bellows in agony, and he jumps onto its back, slicing through a wing that will now fly no more.

The present

..."So, how about an urn robot?"

That would be a downgrade to floating and telekinesis! I mean, I am basically like that, except without picking things up with my mind! Being a floating urn is just cooler than being a robot!

"Alright, then."

I walk into the other room, and think. The robots would certainly have diverged from my personality...

But I would never say something was cooler than robots.

I prepare for battle.

"Come on let's go before Urn gets sold to an antique shop"

"Hey guys, can I be in the show again?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Yeah. Even though I could've sworn you died at some point..."

"Maybe I just unwittingly dropped out for a while. I tend to do that a lot. It may happen again sooner than you think."

edited 17th Jul '17 5:27:36 PM by DrNoPuma

"Do you think the show will make more or less sense now without Mr. Meddling?"

"With us around, this show will never make sense."

Blizzard, still with her Chekhov, Moore, and Dakka's badge, but with a pistol instead of a rifle, knocks on the door.

I open the door, completely coincidentally armed with my laser sword, rocket shoes, and personal shield, among a few surprises.

"Hey! I hope you're not planning on attacking anyone in the house!"

"Hey, you didn't do the Hours in the Future thing!

"Yeah! We're becoming less like Homestuck by the minute."