Well, shit. That was a great idea. Not only did he ram his large fist through the robot's belly, it was the explosive kind of punch that sent a small torrent of sticky soda on the Soviet. The display that followed was expectedly electrical, thousands of volts turned on him as he recoiled and hissed, reflexively snapping his external charge off.
Maybe he should have been more wary of robots that launched soda cans and whatever happened to be inside of them. He never was terribly fond of soda machines either; the one next to the cafeteria ate his change. Not to mention no one was allowed to be privy to the fact that he did something so disgustingly capitalistic as enjoy American soda.
(It did not taste like what he had back in the day, either, he might add.)
Meanwhile, Apple Kid was allowed a few seconds of precious time as Volgin regained his senses and overcame the sugary pain of his self-inflicted stupidity.
no subject
Maybe he should have been more wary of robots that launched soda cans and whatever happened to be inside of them. He never was terribly fond of soda machines either; the one next to the cafeteria ate his change. Not to mention no one was allowed to be privy to the fact that he did something so disgustingly capitalistic as enjoy American soda.
(It did not taste like what he had back in the day, either, he might add.)
Meanwhile, Apple Kid was allowed a few seconds of precious time as Volgin regained his senses and overcame the sugary pain of his self-inflicted stupidity.