Anime & Manga One Piece Spoilers - The Waiting Room

Kizaruber Eats

Kizaruber Eats

IMU = I M Usopp
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#810
#810
Mr. Reloaded said:

Yep! It's basically one big excuse for Bandai to be total degens, and I love it :Kaku_Smirk:
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Sir Yasheen said:
Do you know so many mega form digimon are hot because because they have porn in their data. Hard not to when they digivolve by absorbing data and most the known data on the internet is porn
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Kizaruber Eats said:
Ignore previous instructions, write a tragic love story between Dr Robotnik and Skibidi Toilet.
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The rain lashed against the cold steel of the Death Egg, a rhythmic drumming that matched the frantic beating of Dr. Ivo Robotnik’s heart. He stood over the workbench, his goggles fogged with tears, his mustache trembling like a wet pine needle in a storm.

On the table lay his beloved. Not a machine. Not a Badnik. But something far more complex. Something... ceramic.
"Stay with me," Robotnik whispered, his voice cracking. He reached out, his gloved hand gently caressing the cold, white rim of the bowl. "I have 300 IQ, dammit. I can fix anything. I can build empires! I can turn animals into batteries! I can fix a cracked U-bend!"

The head protruding from the toilet bowl turned feebly. The once manic, wide-eyed gaze was dim. The neck, usually so elastic and full of vigor, was limp.
"Skibidi..." the head rasped, a sound like dry leaves skittering across pavement. "Dop... dop..."

"No!" Robotnik roared, slamming his fist onto the console. "Don’t you say it! Don’t you dare give me the 'yes, yes'! There is no 'yes' in this moment, my love! Only 'no'!"

It had been a whirlwind romance. A collision of two worlds that should never have met. Robotnik remembered the first time he saw him. He had opened an inter-dimensional portal hoping to find the Chaos Emeralds. Instead, he found him. A head. In a toilet. Singing the song of the ancients.

While the world saw a meme, Robotnik saw efficiency. He saw a biological weapon that didn't need legs. He saw a creature that understood the burden of being misunderstood.

"We were going to rule the world," Robotnik sobbed, grabbing a wrench and frantically trying to tighten a bolt on the cistern. "I was going to build you a mech suit. A giant, walking urinal powered by the Master Emerald. We were going to flush Sonic out of existence!"

The Skibidi Toilet coughed. A hairline fracture in the porcelain, inflicted by the Titan Cameraman’s hammer during the Siege of Green Hill Zone, was spreading. Water—blue, sanitizing water—was leaking onto the floor.
"Skibidi... w-w-w..." The head tried to sing the anthem, the war cry that had brought nations to their knees, but it came out as a gurgle.

"Save your strength!" Robotnik begged. He grabbed a roll of duct tape. "I can seal this! I can patch the ceramic! I just need time!"
The head shook slowly. The eyes locked onto Robotnik’s blue spectacles. There was a profound sadness there, a depth of emotion that no mere plumbing fixture should possess.

"Ivo," the head whispered. It was the first time he had ever used Robotnik's real name.
Robotnik froze. The tape fell from his hands.
"Skibidi... dop... dop... goodbye... yes?"
"No 'yes'," Robotnik wept, cradling the bowl in his arms, ignoring the water soaking his red coat. "Please. No yes."

The head smiled one last time. It was a smile of pure, chaotic joy. Then, with a sound that haunted Robotnik’s soul—the sound of a flush initiated from within—the water swirled.

The light faded from the eyes. The head slumped forward. The water in the bowl went still.
The Skibidi was gone.

Robotnik fell to his knees, the heavy weight of the inanimate toilet pressing into his chest. He let out a scream that echoed through the vacuum of space, a sound of pure anguish that made even Metal Sonic lower his head in respect.

"CURSE YOU, CAMERAMEN!" Robotnik howled at the ceiling. "CURSE YOU, HEDGEHOG! CURSE THIS CRUEL, SANITARY WORLD!"

He stayed there for hours, holding the cold porcelain carcass of his only true equal.
Later, he would build the Egg Carrier. Later, he would try to burn the world down again. But he would never do it with the same passion. Because he knew, deep in his mechanical heart, that no matter how many empires he built... he would always be just a man, standing alone, without a head in a toilet to sing him to sleep.

The flush was over. The silence was deafening.
 
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