No Animals Were Harmed in the Making of this Episode

The second episode of Cyberpunk.

Story
Alveus, like every community, was divided into clear, distinct social classes. The upper class held all the wealth and lived in a small but comfortable neighborhood known, quite appropriately, as the Upper Ring. The lower class, which composed about 99.9% of Alveus’ population, had incomes that ranged from nothing to barely-making-the-rent. Alveus once had a thriving middle class, but it was all but obliterated after the mega-corporation FutureWorks began producing robots tailor-made for every occupation.

SpongeBryan, Pat and Ron were members of the lower class, but they did substantially better than most of their comrades thanks to their lucrative “night jobs”. One of their regular targets during these night jobs was an eight-tentacled cephalopod who went by the name of Octhomas.

“Where are those little sinkholes at?” muttered Octhomas as he peered through his telescope.

The night remained clear. It was always clear before they attacked. Octhomas’ eyes drooped lower and lower, and before he could do anything, he was fast asleep.

The sound of one of his androids making breakfast woke Octhomas up. He took one more look through the telescope before turning around to find his couch missing.

“Damn it!” screamed Octhomas as kicked his telescope out the window.

“Your toast and milk is ready, master,” said the android. “Master, what is wrong?”

“Everything, Model 9612. Everything is wrong.”

Octhomas walked into the kitchen, gulped down the toast, and washed it down with a cold glass of milk. He noticed a laser gun at the foot of his table and squeezed his empty glass until it shattered to pieces.

“What do I do?” said Octhomas as he wiped off his bloody hands with a napkin. “How do I keep the freak and geek away from my house?”

“May I recommend a guard worm?” said Model 9612.

“A guard worm? Yes! Get me the address of the closest animal retailer.”

Model 9612 printed out the address from a slot in its chest. Octhomas grabbed the address, left his mansion, and flew his private jet-boat to Jimmy’s Pet Store.

The pet store was filled with the sounds of chirping scallops and purring snails. Jimmy strolled up from behind the counter to greet his newest customer.

“Hi, there! What can I do for you?” said Jimmy.

“I was just wondering if you had a guard worm you could sell to me,” said Octhomas. “A guard worm? No, we’re all out of those. But I have something even better for you!”

Jimmy ran back to the counter and pulled out from under it a pair of robotic worms with sharp metal teeth and glowing red eyes.

“These guys are guaranteed to keep your house safe,” said Jimmy. “And since I’m feeling nice today, I’ll give you both of them for the price of one!”

“I don’t know,” said Octhomas.

“I’ll throw in a free t-shirt!”

“You have yourself a deal!”

So Octhomas walked out of the pet store with two new deadly companions, and he flew back home, eager to try them out.

SpongeBryan, meanwhile, was planning a return to Octhomas’ house to retrieve the laser gun he left there. Pat and Ron offerred to lend him one of their guns for the trip, but SpongeBryan declined, saying that he’d just be in and out. That was it.

When SpongeBryan arrived at the mansion that night, he found that its security system was already disabled. He used a rock to cut a glass circle out of the living room window and quietly made his way in He spotted his laser gun at the bottom of the stairs, and as he picked it up, he felt a sudden pain in one of his legs.

“Ow! What the crap?”

SpongeBryan turned around and pulled a robotic worm off his leg. Another one appeared from behind and took a large bite out of his arm. SpongeBryan picked up his laser gun and shot a hole through the second worm’s head.

The first worm, upon seeing this, hesitated for a few moments. SpongeBryan was quick to point the gun at its head, and he continued to do so without noticing the other worm squirming towards his ankle.

The next bite caused SpongeBryan to drop his gun in surprise, allowing the first worm to pounce on his head while the second one chewed at his calf. SpongeBryan attempted to reach for the gun again, but the worm at his leg pulled him away and threw him to the other side of the living room. The impact of the fall made SpongeBryan too weak to move, and he watched in terror as the two worms headed for him.

“Wait! Stop! What are you two doing?” Octhomas said as he sped down the stairs. “I told you to take a bite out of his pants or something! You know, scare him! Don’t kill the little guy!” “These are your goons?” said SpongeBryan as he stood up.

“Don’t look at me like I’m some sort of monster! You were robbing my house!”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry about that. But a sponge has gotta pay his bills.”

The robotic worms, uninterested in the chit-chat, continued for SpongeBryan with their ravenous jaws baring.

“I said stop!” pleaded Octhomas. “Don’t make me dismantle you!”

The first worm ripped a piece of flesh from SpongeBryan’s thigh, and in desparation, Octhomas picked up the laser gun, searched for the trigger, and fired.

The laser hit the first worm in its upper back, the very location of its on/off switch. Octhomas shot the second worm in the exact same location, and within a few seconds, they were both completely shut down.

“Thanks,” said SpongeBryan.

“You’re welcome,” said Octhomas. “But I still don’t like you stealing from me.”

“Alright, then. I’ll never steal from you again. ”

“Don’t push your luck. I’d never befriend a peasant. Now get out of my house.”

Alveus, like every community, was divided into clear, distinct social classes. The upper class held all the wealth and lived in a small but comfortable neighborhood known, quite appropriately, as the Upper Ring. The lower class, which composed about 99.9% of Alveus’ population, had incomes that ranged from nothing to barely-making-the-rent. Alveus once had a thriving middle class, but it was all but obliterated after the mega-corporation FutureWorks began producing robots tailor-made for every occupation.

SpongeBryan, Pat and Ron were members of the lower class, but they did substantially better than most of their comrades thanks to their lucrative “night jobs”. One of their regular targets during these night jobs was an eight-tentacled cephalopod who went by the name of Octhomas.

“Where are those little sinkholes at?” muttered Octhomas as he peered through his telescope.

The night remained clear. It was always clear before they attacked. Octhomas’ eyes drooped lower and lower, and before he could do anything, he was fast asleep.

The sound of one of his androids making breakfast woke Octhomas up. He took one more look through the telescope before turning around to find his couch missing.

“Damn it!” screamed Octhomas as kicked his telescope out the window.

“Your toast and milk is ready, master,” said the android. “Master, what is wrong?”

“Everything, Model 9612. Everything is wrong.”

Octhomas walked into the kitchen, gulped down the toast, and washed it down with a cold glass of milk. He noticed a laser gun at the foot of his table and squeezed his empty glass until it shattered to pieces.

“What do I do?” said Octhomas as he wiped off his bloody hands with a napkin. “How do I keep the freak and geek away from my house?”

“May I recommend a guard worm?” said Model 9612.

“A guard worm? Yes! Get me the address of the closest animal retailer.”

Model 9612 printed out the address from a slot in its chest. Octhomas grabbed the address, left his mansion, and flew his private jet-boat to Jimmy’s Pet Store.

The pet store was filled with the sounds of chirping scallops and purring snails. Jimmy strolled up from behind the counter to greet his newest customer.

“Hi, there! What can I do for you?” said Jimmy.

“I was just wondering if you had a guard worm you could sell to me,” said Octhomas. “A guard worm? No, we’re all out of those. But I have something even better for you!”

Jimmy ran back to the counter and pulled out from under it a pair of robotic worms with sharp metal teeth and glowing red eyes.

“These guys are guaranteed to keep your house safe,” said Jimmy. “And since I’m feeling nice today, I’ll give you both of them for the price of one!”

“I don’t know,” said Octhomas.

“I’ll throw in a free t-shirt!”

“You have yourself a deal!”

So Octhomas walked out of the pet store with two new deadly companions, and he flew back home, eager to try them out.

SpongeBryan, meanwhile, was planning a return to Octhomas’ house to retrieve the laser gun he left there. Pat and Ron offerred to lend him one of their guns for the trip, but SpongeBryan declined, saying that he’d just be in and out. That was it.

When SpongeBryan arrived at the mansion that night, he found that its security system was already disabled. He used a rock to cut a glass circle out of the living room window and quietly made his way in He spotted his laser gun at the bottom of the stairs, and as he picked it up, he felt a sudden pain in one of his legs.

“Ow! What the crap?”

SpongeBryan turned around and pulled a robotic worm off his leg. Another one appeared from behind and took a large bite out of his arm. SpongeBryan picked up his laser gun and shot a hole through the second worm’s head.

The first worm, upon seeing this, hesitated for a few moments. SpongeBryan was quick to point the gun at its head, and he continued to do so without noticing the other worm squirming towards his ankle.

The next bite caused SpongeBryan to drop his gun in surprise, allowing the first worm to pounce on his head while the second one chewed at his calf. SpongeBryan attempted to reach for the gun again, but the worm at his leg pulled him away and threw him to the other side of the living room. The impact of the fall made SpongeBryan too weak to move, and he watched in terror as the two worms headed for him.

“Wait! Stop! What are you two doing?” Octhomas said as he sped down the stairs. “I told you to take a bite out of his pants or something! You know, scare him! Don’t kill the little guy!” “These are your goons?” said SpongeBryan as he stood up.

“Don’t look at me like I’m some sort of monster! You were robbing my house!”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry about that. But a sponge has gotta pay his bills.”

The robotic worms, uninterested in the chit-chat, continued for SpongeBryan with their ravenous jaws baring.

“I said stop!” pleaded Octhomas. “Don’t make me dismantle you!”

The first worm ripped a piece of flesh from SpongeBryan’s thigh, and in desparation, Octhomas picked up the laser gun, searched for the trigger, and fired.

The laser hit the first worm in its upper back, the very location of its on/off switch. Octhomas shot the second worm in the exact same location, and within a few seconds, they were both completely shut down.

“Thanks,” said SpongeBryan.

“You’re welcome,” said Octhomas. “But I still don’t like you stealing from me.”

“Alright, then. I’ll never steal from you again. ”

“Don’t push your luck. I’d never befriend a peasant. Now get out of my house.”

SpongeBryan limped out of the mansion. As Octhomas slammed the door behind him, he noticed something missing from the nearby coat hanger: the free t-shirt from his purchase of the robotic worms.

“Yep, I’ll never steal from him again,” said SpongeBryan as he flew home wearing the missing t-shirt. “Starting…now.”