Part 32 – Blob War is Hell.
Bob was a mighty figure, a beast who conquered all who challenged him. His minions were everywhere, and their propaganda filled all the popular forums around the 0.0 regions. Able to bash aside even the mightiest armies levied against him, there was but one way to defeat the onslaught. As TV has taught me, the only thing that can win is a spunky protagonist and a lot of courage.
In my case, a lot of courage meant I was in the middle of a massive formation of automobiles, sport utility vehicles and a tank or two, each carrying an utterly broken loadout heavy on ‘Vampire’ configurations. While I had never believed in such things, they were said to be quite effective. I gazed from the window of my Nanophoon to a nearby minion of mine driving the awkward Dominix model minivan. I wondered why this ugly wreck always came in that most unappealing shade of brown. Some things we’ll never know.
Inside his car, along the front or ‘high’ seats, I saw his configuration of Nosferatu. In this case, his ‘vampires’ were a car full of black-clad Goths, teenagers who reveled in their own emotional pain or some other nonsense like that. Using their skills at slicing things with razorblades, I would deploy such people against the gas lines of Bob’s own vehicles, slicing them and stopping them dead in their tracks! The excess gasoline could be stolen and transferred to my own war-blob. Surely nothing could stop me now.
“More!” I cried delightedly, as additional vehicles flocked to my cause. I soon possessed even mighty ‘Carriers’, large semi trucks with the ability to haul whole automobiles within them. There was the dreaded Thanathos, most powerful truck of the road and the armored Archon, golden and majestic with it’s impregnable steel sides. These two were the impressive ones. Somewhat less inspiring were the Chimera, a carrier that seemed like you could fit two clowns in it on a good day. It was oddly too small even though it possessed a formidable aura much like a bodybuilding midget.
Lastly, there was some kind of rolling shed on wheels, with a corrugated aluminum roof angled apart and rust-filled interior. Why would anyone be moving a rusty toolshed onto the road? Oh wait, that was the Nidhoggur carrier, a vehicle as bad as it was unpronounceable.
These thoughts of appearance had distracted me, and I focused ahead, forcing myself to look away from the utter ugliness of the Nidhoggur. Bob lay there right ahead with his forces. We closed and the seconds passed, as battle drew nearer.
I counted in my head the seconds before contact, when the carnage and battle would begin.
I paused, at the instant of contact. Everything seemed frozen! Slowed down, and control was of no use. I struggled to turn my steering wheel but nothing moved. I shuddered in horror at the realization of a greater enemy, a third party more powerful than myself or Bob.
It was a dark entity and dangerous, that which was known as ‘The Lag’.