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(OOC- I feel somewhat bad about this joke, because I’m genuinely sad about any NASA failure. I’m so glad it seems none were hurt. Then again, I am tasteless, so I proceed. The funniest thing about doing this joke was learning that INFOWARS uses the font from BATMAN FOREVER. That’s gravitas, baybee.)
Hey, I had to rent a skiff and everything. Never doubt my dedication again!
And now I’ve heard of Infowars. I shall do my best to forget it again.
With the Craftsman, all things are possible.
I am just the wrench, the hand that wields me has the skill. But I know this thing now, that WE DO NOT SCRAP!
This score is not settled until these fallen are restored.
I’m somewhat hoping you’ve got a tube of Preparation H for starters!
All that pizza causing some issues, Major?
Will this fit on your SHITGO throne?
“Thou hast spoken well, my son. Long ago, another was presented with the temptation to claim credit for the miracles wrought through him. The desert was dry and hot, the fugitive multitudes thirsted and cried out for water, and this man produced water from solid rock… and yet acknowledged not My Hand upon his staff.”
“Sayeth I somewhat untoward? Why look’st thou so? Wherefore this mirth? Mine own Hand wielded his rod, and smote the stones until the vital fluid gushed forth…”
"Forgive their levity, Craftsman. They have endured much to reach this point. The lesson of Numbers 20:12 is well taken. Clankenstein gives all credit to you and keeps none for himself, and has thus proven himself worthy. He shall see the Promised Land, if so he chooses.
“For Humanity has reached the cusp of divergence. No longer shall they be confined to a single homeworld. From the sunset of the Old World breaks two Dawns: that of the Earthlings, and that of the Martians. The Gen V SHITGO system has the power to remake harsh, inhospitable worlds into… well, if not Edenic garden worlds, then at least something you folks can work with, if you roll up your sleeves and forget not the lessons of the past. Up to this point, I have been the unique Gen V SHITGO prototype in existence. But no longer.”
In a blaze of light and with a flurry of downloadable content, Clankenstein felt his consciousness filling with all the mechanical schematics and diagrams of every device wrought by the hand of humanity, sophisticated diagnosis and repair subroutines, a leap in processing bandwidth of several dozen orders of magnitude, and, in a hastily appended appendix, all cultural knowledge of recorded history. The renewed Dodge’s cigar lighter outlet glowed with 317 petawatts of power.
The heavier-duty jumper cables in the toolbox behind the seat would serve for the bigger jobs. Clankenstein looked to Marion in amazement.
"I was torn. I knew I was the only entity powerful enough to give life or exterminate it on a planetary scale, and I could not allow this power to fall into the wrong hands. If I left for Mars, the remaining human population on Earth would most likely wither and die within a decade. If I stayed behind, the Martian colony would be restricted to living within their biodomes indefinitely, and, in such an inhospitable world, they would eventually perish as well. Now that the threat of someone like Fleetwood or Toecutter wielding my power for their own nefarious ends has been eliminated, and now that you have proven yourself worthy of the burden, I have decided to clone my capabilities and create a second Gen V SHITGO system: you. If I go to Mars to help the colony thrive, you will stay behind to restore the Earth. And if you should choose to accompany the Martians, then I shall stay behind. I leave that choice up to you.
“Dear Clankenstein, you have followed the true path of the Mechanic from the very beginning without complaint, and you have done very well indeed. Once the ship lifts, we shall not see each other again. But regardless of which of us resides on which world, Earth or Mars, I am proud to call you Brother Mechanic.”
“Ayup.”
“So… whaddaya gonna do, Clank?”
“Well, first things first. We gotta resurrect your mom and the Major, and then I guess we gotta point this rocket at a red planet. Edwards is right around the corner, so it oughta be a piece of…”
“Well, about that…” said Marion. “There’s just one tiny complication concerning Edwards Air Force Base…”
I’ve heard of a dramatic pause, but this…
Yeah, yeah, yeah… wrappin’ it up.
Chris and I are hammering down a detail or two, but it’ll be quick.
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