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Mmockery: MxO: The coloning, posted by Derek

As threatened, part 2.  Reading Part 1 is recommended but not required.  This one was written a week later.  It’s far more directly related to MxO.

When last we left Firbolg, he was standing over a body, rummaging its pockets for stuff.

Things haven’t changed a lot in a week. More bodies, more rummaging, and more interesting stuff, to be sure. But you know, that’s what it’s all about, in the end.

Tyndall’s been a real help. Things started out slow, sure – go talk to three guys. Each of them has vital information for you! Like, you know, hit stuff hard, and don’t die, and the matrix is all craaaaazy weird.

She couldn’t tell me that herself? Come on, really. This has taught me a valuable lesson: fundamentally, the Matrix is actually made up of the laziest SoB’s you can find. Case in point: Recruit a new blue pill. My thoughts went somewhat like this:

What’s this mission? I have to go help a blue pill? Great! I know all about that – you get there just before the agents, you help them sneak out of the office, being all cool and god-like (I can see you, Mr. Anderson! I can always see you! And, uh, you should probably stop doing that, or you’ll go blind). Then you get them in the car, and then all this cra… what? No? I have to do what now? Walk to someone’s apartment? And pick up the pills? Aren’t they just code that I could….No, I have to walk there. Could the guys that have the pills take them to the recruit? No? Too busy, eh? Well, okay, I guess that’s why you have tenure, right?

So I haul myself over there, narrowly avoiding Janet and Madonna (Apparently it’s the Dance Tour of the century, with guns) and some other ladies. I burst in the door, expecting to be awash in a bustle of important and exciting activity.

And they’re standing around. Not even, like, using the machines. Just looking at them. I think one of them has a beer, but he hides it quickly. So I find my contact. Broomfondle. Yeah, dude couldn’t get the name generator to work either. I mean, come on. Broom Fondle. He who fondles brooms. I mean, maybe it’s a really bad, really obscure Hitchhiker’s joke, but man. Why not just call yourself “NoneofthenamesIwantedwereopen”? Oh, that wasn’t available? Dang.

So I pick up the red pill from Broomfondle (I don’t mind admitting I was a bit nervous. I didn’t have Anti-Perv loaded or anything), and all goes well. Can I have the blue pill now? You…you don’t have it? Some other guy has it, in another room? What, are they like matter and anti-matter, and they’ll explode if they get to close? I’m not putting that in my pocket! But no, just some other guy has it. That’s his job – he’s the Blue Pill Holder Man. *sigh*.

Oh well – while I’m here, I’ll just dig around in your large cardboard box…. AH HA! Loot! A fedora. Very nice, very stylish. It’s got this weird yellow background, but I’m still wearing the ratty beanie I started with, so I’ll throw it on.

It … it won’t go on. I mean, my head is right there, the hat is right there. But it just won’t fit on my head. It bounces right off. So I ask ol’ Broomy for some advice.

“That’s a ladies hat.”

“No, no, it’s a fedora. They’re really guy’s hats, though occasionally women will wear them to be edgy.”

“Nope, check the color – the yellow background means ladies. Blue is for guys.”

“Not pink?”

“Pink is not cool.”

*sigh*. “So I can’t wear the hat, even though it fits, because it’s for a woman.”


“You want it?”

“Dude, I don’t go that way. Not that there’s anything wrong with it….”

So, I stuff it in my pocket (fits surprisingly well in there, especially considering the two shotguns, three rifles, and assorted stakes, holy water, and silver bullets….) and head to the door. I open it up, and there’s Traylor. “Traylor, eh? Single or double-wide?” He’s not amused. Ah well, I guess being a key Zion op like these guys means you lose a little perspective.

“So, I need that blue pill.”




“Look, man, don’t make me drop names. I mean TYNDALL herself sent me here.”

“Yeah, I know. We’ve had 50 other newbies come through here looking for pills too.”

Wait, I’m…I’m not special? Everyone else is doing the same thing? I know that’s just not right – when they woke me up, Niobe herself told me how special I was. Traylor’s just mad about the double-wide crack. I mean…that didn’t come out right…. Nevermind, more important things are happening. I have a Mind to Free tm

“Seriously, come on. There’s like, Agents or something, going to pick him up right now. In shades. And black suits. *MATCHING* black suits.”

“Fine, whatever. No! Wait! Better idea! See that cop?”

“Uh, yeah. I was kinda wondering why he was just standing in the corner….”

“He’s a construct. He’s the only one that really listens when I talk, and doesn’t look at me funny when I tell him about my idea for a duck powered….nevermind – I want you to fight him for the key.”

“Uh, you know that the whole goal of Zion is to free people, right? I mean, really, we’re on the same side here. I’m pretty sure that your job as Blue Pill Holder Man also requires that you hand over Blue Pills when people ask. I mean, honestly, I could just take the Red Pill, that’s the one that really does stuff….”

*Target Acquired!*


So I kill poor little construct, handily (Hey, it ain’t Screaming Monkey Kung Fu yet, but I’ve leveled up. I can kick you in the groin *and* hit you over the back of the head now. BOO YA!). Rifle his pockets (God, I do that a lot. They never said it was going to be like this….) and find the key. Open the desk, blue pill! YEAH!

Tyndall calls me (she’s always watching too, creepy ol’ lady that she is….) and tells me to head to the recruit. I check my map.

38 meters.

I check again.

36 meters (I moved, in my shock).

So basically, I ran 200 meters to get here, had to deal with a guy that has a thing for household cleaning appliances, had to beat up a pseudo-cop, all so I could walk 30 meters, to the building across the street? Seriously? And these guys are now doing what? Standing there?

Laziest SoB’s ever, I told ya.

Don’t even get me started on the bizarre desire to sniff everyone’s butt. I’m starting to wonder about these people. But then I remember. KUNG FU! BULLET TIME! WAAAAAA TAAAAAAAAAA! And it’s on again.

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