POP
--dge?” Dogg finishes the sentence he began before The Time Trust appeared out of thin air and saved him from the FBI.
“Is that Superman, Nuriko?” Tommy asks as the crowd of onlooker’s gasps and moves back a little.
“Oh yeah, you people are all for an angel of death but get all freaked out when a robot and a goth wannabe dude that shops at Hot Topics pops out of thin air!” Nuriko yells at the crowd, grabbing Tommy and moving away from Islington.
“I am
not a robot! I am an android, made out of an artificial nanite substance unknown to…hmm…we’re not supposed to be here.” TTT interrupts himself.
“Uh…can I ask some questions? What just happened, what do you mean we’re not supposed to be here? What about the black hole in Crotchgrabber and what does she mean, “angel of death”? Dogg grabs his Super Soaker 70thousand from TTT’s hands and puts it back in its holster.
“I’m…not sure what happened. I was in the middle of a battle. I popped out of time and found you, D0GG, about to be arrested so I decided to take you back with me since you’re late, but I popped back in the wrong time and now there are two of me in this city. This is the Angel Islington, Archangel of the Sheol Realm. As for the black hole, don’t worry; it’s a small self-contained rip in reality. It’ll swallow itself in a couple thousand years.” TTT looks around and tells the onlookers to return to their homes. “D0GG, if you would be so kind as to set your Super Soaker 70thousand to replicate cyanoacrylate and cover Transneapolitan’s feet and surrounding area, it would really cement the JLR’s faith in you, pun intended. Go ahead and cover Lucious Malfoy and Francisco Scaramanga while you’re at it.”
Dogg does as he’s told to do. “Hey, why do you keep calling me, “D0GG”? My name’s “Dogg”, lowercase and with an “o”, not a zero.”
“Every JLR member needs a codename. Oh, and I’d hold off on killing these people, Islington. You’ll have plenty of contenders soon enough.” TTT reconfigures his nanites, creating a self-contained ripple in space that fades him out of reality for a fraction of a second before popping back. "Odd...I'm being blocked from returning to the future." The Time Trust thinks to himself.
“But I’m not a member of the JLR…” Just as Dogg notes this it begins to rain hard, the water falling on them like a faucet being turned on.
“What is this Nuriko? It’s going to ruin my new haircut!” Tommy yells out, but barely audible in the downpour.
“Down the road!” Yells Chessmaster, “It’s a syndicate of Agent Smiths!”
“But…but theres like, hundreds of them! Thousands maybe!” Nuriko exclaims. Nuriko, Tommy, Dogg, and Chessmaster take several steps backwards, the exception being Islington who is grinning insanely and dreams of how many ways he can kill a computer program.
One of the Agents moves forward from the rest of the group. “Hello, JLR. Welcome to Big City, but I should really call it
My City since we now comprise 90 percent of the population. We can not be stopped, your only hope is to allow assimilation.”
Islington spreads his wings and hovers in the air. “Assimilate this.” The rain slows down, turning to steam, and then becoming shards of fire that consume several hundred Agent Smiths. The rest of them rush forward to battle. Nuriko, Tommy, and Dogg glance at each other.
“Agent Smith took over my wife. This might be my last chance to get her back.” Dogg sets his Super Soaker to create a liquid computer virus. "Guys, cover me while I program my gun!"
“Those sun glasses are so late ‘90’s. C’mon Tommy, maybe they’ll give us a shopping spree for helping out.” Nuriko pulls out some shuriken.
“And a new perm?” Tommy poses in several ninjitsu styles.
“Hey, why not a whole new hairstyle?” Nuriko throws the shuriken at the Agent Smiths with a grace and speed only taught in super secretest dojo’s in the world.
“I’m getting highlights!” Tommy begins pounding on the Smiths with techniques long lost to modern martial artists.
Meanwhile, still glued to the ground and stuck in the middle of battle, Transneapolitan does what he can to keep the Agent Smiths away from him but it’s not enough.
“You have failed in your assignment, 006. You’d be more useful as one of us.” Agent Smith shoves his hand in Transneapolitans chest, assimilating him and his powers and breaking out of the adhesive Dogg shot onto his feet. “Yes! Yeessssss! Prepare for a new ice cream age, JLR! This city belongs to us!”
