Murder Drones: Born from ashes

Chapter 18 : Breakfast in the West

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In other news, Our troops have begun their campaign against the savages along the ice bay. The directors believe we will win by the end of this week!

Reports are on the rise for shotgun savage. The bounty for Shotgun Savage has now been raised to four hundred grand. Reports describe her as a combat drone standing at 6 feet. Notable features are her dark hair, visor color code #012EFB, and body armor made of caution tape and metal scrap. There is plausible reason to believe she's heading west.

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The caravanner paused the tape recorder. Looking down at V2 and N. The caravanners were hungry for revenge for quite some time now. Their ability to make money was greatly affected by the two's rampage, and now they were at their knees. They sifted through their bags, body parts, drone components, and oil.

Another drone clicked a pen, writing down on a note board

"Does that sound familiar to you?"

"You know, it's a real shame. We could use people like you. If you didn't always cut into our more important structures. You helped us in some ways. Did you know the Chainsaw Massacre has been in high demand lately? I think I see a pattern here- Bobby, write that down."

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"God damnit!" Bobby ripped the sheet off completely, shaking the pen violently, "these stupid pens are useless! Get me one of those Jensen pens!" he yelled to another drone sitting in the back of their truck. He rolled back and sifted through the containers.

"Which one is it?" he asked

"The one marked with pens? Hello?" said Bobby.

"I don't see it." he said. Bobby groaned, stomping over to the truck, turning one of the boxes around and finding the pens immediately.

"See? P. E. N. S. Pens! Just fucking look man." Bobby said. The other drone rolled his eyes.

"You're giving me crap over a pen?"

"Not just a pen, A very specific pen, the pen. You know why I trust JC Jensen over these other fucking offshoots?"

"Because you like sucking cocks?"

"You horny bastard. You never see the big picture. You see, almost every pen uses a common composition of materials and pattern design, you got the ink, the body, the ball point, and sometimes the button and springs. These guys always copy one after another basing it off one design. And then you get an entire generation thats fucked up and sick in the head. Because Moms got the brain of a whore and Pops has the brain of a visionary. You mix the smarts of the dad and the bullshit of the whore, and now their kids think daddy will always protect them. Now you see, because the children and the dad are the only visionaries left in the world, dad will always be on top because his kids are mashing and drooling at the bottom, thinking they're making a difference." Bobby spun the black pen in his hand. He clicked the button a few times, smiling to himself.

"That's why you buy from the source, because everything that trickles down isn't worth acknowledging."

The pen hit the ground, a drop of oil hits the truck bed, another one, then another one. Then Bobby's hand hits the floor, followed by his body and the other drone.

Clouds of smoke blinded the drones. Snow crunched from all directions. The caravaneers aimed their rifles into the fog. The leader fumbled at his side belt to take out his radar tool, a sleek card sized device with a small antenna fixed at the top. The small tool beeped weakly.

"North!" he shouted. One of the rifleman swept his rifle in the direction. A resounding pop came from the fog followed by loud scuttling. The leader ran behind the rifle man as they went into the fog. A bomber drone ran out of the fog, obliviously bumping into the leader. The bomber drone dropped his rifle into the snow. The leader took out his magnum pistol and fired at his chest.