Mayor Rod's life is a living nightmare

[keyofimagination]

Who: Rod, Bill, and you!
What: Start of the Election Event!
Where: The Transport Center
When: The morning on 4/22
Warnings: Robotic Body horror



[It was a normal morning in Progress City, and Rod is as overworked as ever. He gets off the monorail from Magic Kingdom, barely looking up from the papers he is currently reading over. It seems like all the stress of the city and the addition stress of people randomly getting stuck in the portal is getting to him. If robots could look exhausted, Rod would be a textbook example of that right now.

But that’s almost a daily sight at this point, and something most people wouldn’t find unusual at all at this point. What is unusual is when he suddenly grabs his chest and lets out a muffled cry of pain. He takes a few more steps to try to get to his office, but stops himself as he braces himself on the wall.

You can try to see if anything’s wrong with him, but he will brush it off with an “I’m fine, I just need a moment”.

However, it becomes abundantly clear that certainly not fine when he suddenly collapses to the ground, papers flying everywhere as he does so. While this seems like a normal collapse at first but if someone looks close at him, his limbs seem strangely disjointed under his clothes.

His limbs are falling off of his body.]

Comments

[hallotween]

... Rod?

[is shit gonna go down while she's wearing this goddamn fake beard bc she's not sure she can deal with that.]

[keyofimagination]

[He struggles to get up, but his body is too weak to move.]

Som͡etḩin͡g̢'s... s͠o̷m̶e̴t̴h̵i͞n͟g͠'҉s wrong͜...͏

[hallotween]

[...]

GUYS ROD IS DYING GUYS HE'S DYING GUYS HE'S DYING!

[so we're starting off great]

[ilovepuppies]

[OK well this is fine??]

...Can we go home now?

[hallotween]

... We'll check his pockets after.

[keyofimagination]

[Thanks, Star...]

I'm n͡ot ̴the one̢ ҉keępi͝n̡g͏ you h̨ere͡.̀.͡.̢

[ilovepuppies]

Uh, huh. Sure. You're just the one that forced us all into working for you.

[billbillbill]

Oh, Rod is falling apart. How sad. Dreary, really.

[Bill is here, friends! Don't worry, he's totally qualified to take care of this.

No, really, despite his sarcasm, he's at least probably prepared to repair this.]

[keyofimagination]

[That is enough for him to stir slightly.]

Ca҉n yo҉u do any̧t͢hi҉ng wi͘th͏oųt f̨eel͞ing͜ the͝ n͢eed to ̨in̛su͘l̕t͝ ͘me?

[billbillbill]

I'll be sure to take you back to my lab. For inspection. Repairs.

[he has a dustpan. he's gently like. sweeping one of rod's arms into it.]

[keyofimagination]

I҉'m ͡s͘ure ̧ít̷'s͘ nothin͞g ̵majo͘r ̡i̴t'̵s ̢j͏ust.͜..͡ ̢i͜t͠'s b̡e͘en a ͠long̨ while si̵n͟c҉e ̢I'v͡e̡ ҉go̸n̸e͞ ͟in̡ for̕ ̶ŕepa͝i̵r̕s̨.͟

[billbillbill]

You have a faulty animatronic body that you've put under constant stress, as of late.

[keyofimagination]

[That manages a glare from Rod.]

It'͝s ̀not͞ fault҉y. ̨ I'҉v͏e ͢j̕uśt b͡een͞ w͝órking̴ ove̡rti̸m͝e a ͠lot̸ these p͜a̢st ̛few̴ ̵w͞e̴ȩḱs͟.

[hallotween]

... Yeah, okay, that sounds really suspicious?

[fuckin watching you]

[billbillbill]

Back off, man. I'm a scientist.

[hallotween]

A scientist with suspicious intentions!

[allknowledgegoodknowledge]

Kinky.

[billbillbill]

Is that what the kids are calling it nowadays.

[allknowledgegoodknowledge]

I think you two can call it whatever you please~

[ilovepuppies]

[G R A N D M A]

[beakie]

Meep?! Meemiimeep meemoomeep?

[Isn't there anything they can do to help?! Beaker knows mechanics, after all.]

[billbillbill]

Ah, yes, my faithful assistant. Pick up Rod and take him back to the lab, would you?

[beakie]

Meemii!

[He salutes Bill, heading on over to Rodbot and...hm. He carefully attempts to gather up his limbs before tugging at the body. He barely budges.

...Maybe having a three-and-a-half foot Muppet try and pick up a heavy robot isn't the best idea.]

Meep?

[Little help, maybe?]

[ilovepuppies]

[GOD FINE she's just going to pick up a leg]

All right, where are we taking him?

[keyofimagination]

[Hmmm he doesn't trust this.]

Pl̨eas͏e ̀d̕on't̴ d̵r͘op̀ m̸e̢, e͡ithe̴r͘ of̸ ̵yo̷u