(NEXUS) MagTalk I-The Best Thing Since [InsertAwesomeThingHere]

[Lord Magtok]

The latest and greatest show ever to grace your televisions/crystal balls/psionic mindstations/alien hive-networks is finally here! Magtok, that wondrous little evil genius, arena-owner, and diabolical chain-store industrial giant, has finally found a much more direct means of spreading his wit, his wisdom, his wonderfulness (and let's not forget his humility) all across the Nexus so that it might be shared and enjoyed by all!


MAGTALK

The show where you ask our beloved cyborg everything and anything! Trying to figure out how to survive in the rough and tumble city of Inside? Want to know where our host buys his robes, how he grows his clones, what the latest PC-celebrity gossip says about a certain pair of WATCHTOWER members? Need his favorite color, who he's rooting for in this weekend's COMBAT arena fight, what happened to all those cat-employees that used to be in MagMart? Advice for throwing a party in HALO, kidnapping your nemesis in Inside, where the best places for epic good vs. evil duels are in Outside?

He'll answer it all, or else management will hit him with a hammer! Just send a carrier pigeon, owl familiar, e-mail, telephone, psionic broadcast, telegram (or candy-gram) to any of our local post stations (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/private.php?do=newpm) and tune in for your response!

Or better yet, come down to Studio M! For a limited time, MagTalk will allow a few lucky guests to be a part of his studio audience! You'll be able to obnoxiously shout your questions right at the tin man, applaud his more cunning responses, and laugh from behind the safety of a one-way forcefield as he tries to awkwardly dodge questions about some catgirl! Reserve your seat today and get a free wad of MagBucks! Legal tender at any and all MagMarts or MagDonald's!

And now that we've gotten all of that out of the way, it's time for the show to begin! Put your hands together, ladies and gentlemen, and let's give a warm round of applause for our host! THE MAGNIFICENT, MAGNANIMOUS, MAGTACULAR, MAGTASTIC LOOOOOORD MAGTOK!

http://i243.photobucket.com/albums/ff246/Magtok/magtok031.png Thanks MagAnnouncerBot! It's wonderful to finally be here, to have all of those network-takeovers and telecaster-bribings out of the...err, I mean entirely legitimate business dealings dealt with! Let's just hope Trog doesn't sue us for plagiarism...

Anyways, since we've just started, I guess I'll begin by answering a question brought to us by my doomspring account. No, I'm not sharing a link to it, the last thing I need is a bajillion more questions on it and less people watching the show.

The cyborg unfolds a small scrap of paper, and reads it aloud.

"Do you ever make out with your clones?"

...Are you serious? This is how we're starting our show off? Oh gods, I already know I'm going to regret putting this show togeth-NO! NO I DON'T MAKE OUT WITH MYSELF, NEVER HAVE, NOR EVER WILL! The...the very thought of even standing that close to another me is...

Our host shivers in disgusts, tosses the paper aside, and facepalms as he leans further into his comfy, purple, plush show-host chair.

Next question, please. And let's try not to make me vomit on Nexus-wide Mage-o-Vision, thanks.

[happyturtle]

Oh hey, isn't that Winslow Warwick in the audience, munching on a giant size popcorn?

"Say, 'Magtok'," he says, the pseudonym dripping with contempt. "Where'd you get your memory transfer technology?"

[Lord Magtok]

Magtok grins widely at Warwick, taking a sip from a glass of water provided by an off-stage Magbot's extendo-arm before answering.

That's a much better question, Mr. NPC. The truth is, and I don't mean to brag, even from early childhood, I've always been a bit of a technological prodigy. Disassembled and rebuilt my first toaster before I could walk, built a fully-functional mechanical gauntlet before reaching puberty, and had my eye replaced sometime in my early twenties. It was only natural that my love for genetics and research into the prolonging of one's life would eventually come to unite with this gift.

So to answer your question, I and a team of off-world experts made the life-extending clone/robot-assisted memory transfer technology ourselves. Oh, and it's available now, at your nearest MagClinic! Costs an awful lot though, so I'd hold off on getting that new car!

He takes another drink, and smirks back at Warwick. Technically he didn't lie, did he?

[happyturtle]

Winslow snorts. "Quite generous of you to make it available at all. I guess your girlfriend can't afford it then, since you haven't made any efforts to preserve any of her lives."

Wait, how did Winslow find that out? This must be a completely non-canon Winslow. :smalleek:

[ThePhantom]

"Hey, Lord Magtok, any advice of building a mech suit?"

Oh look, Gordon's here, along with twenty henchmen, filling up about a whole row in the audience.

[Lord Magtok]

Winslow's remark is met with a glare and the pointing of a finger.

Not a question, so I'm not going to dignify that drivel and rumor-mongering with a response!

He then turns his gaze towards Gordon.

Well...would you look at that, ladies and gentlemen. It seems the esteemed leader of the Association of the Malicious, Evil, and Nefarious would like mech suit advice! Well obviously I haven't the time, papers, or legal team for a televised step-by-step instruction, but I suppose I can offer a tip.

Magtok hovers right out of his chair, the Magbot camera crew following him as he closes in on Gordon and attempts to get within a few inches of the AMENite commander's face.

Now you listen, and you listen close Commissioner, because I've got no idea when we're doing reruns. I've got two, two very important words for you: Air conditioning.

The cyborg suddenly reappears in his seat, and tosses a small MagConditioning fan towards the audience, figuring someone might want it and that it might encourage people to join the audience.

I'm not sure if you've heard of them, but there was this old organization of mech suit heroes, the Rearranging-Robot Rescue Rangers. A terribly incompetent, smelly, disgusting, idiotic bunch. Well there I was one day, piloting the Maggenburg armored war-blimp over the skies of Emsetopia, when the rangers in their giant combining mecha show up.

Well...thanks to a well-timed gift of incredibly foul-smelling French cheese to their dairy-loving lime-green Ranger, before they could swing their first punch at my blimp, that ranger decided to have a pre-battle snack. The moment he unraveled that lump of Eposisses de Bourgogne the entire team fainted. Their mecha tripped over the Statue of Equality, and didn't get up for about 3 hours. In that time, I'd managed to declare myself ruler for all of about five minutes until Captain Multiverse stepped in.

The moral of this story? Air conditioning, ladies and gentlemen! Fans, and not just to keep the engines from overheating! Too often the typical mad scientist, the crafty diabolical engineer, the anime mech suit captain thinks they'll do the "smart" thing, and install a bathroom right into the suit! Nobody, and I mean nobody ever thinks an air-tight confined little space might get too hot, humid, stuffy, or start to smell! You'll have nobody to blame but yourself when you go into space with a robot-suit and choke on your own Dystanian Lizardman fumes!

You...you turned his question around into advice about air-circulation? You're...you're a bit of a jerk, Magtok. Or just crazy, I'm not sure which.

[ThePhantom]

"Thanks for the advice. One more question: How do you feel about the audience putting things on the stage?"

[Lord Magtok]

The cyborg shrugs.

Well, so long as it's not going to kill me I suppose it wouldn't hu-AACK!

A trio of somethings fly right at our host's head, knocking both him and his chair over as he screams in terror and flails about in a panicky manner. A moment or two of this follows, until our Maggy pulls himself back up, has a pair of Magbots pick his chair back up for him, and picks three bloodstained paper shurikens off the floor. Ouch.

...Huh. People of Acro/Town, I'd like to apologize for the indiscretion of my mail staff, some of the Magbots have a tendency to get a tad...creative when we're not getting enough questions in. Please, for my sake, don't hesitate to send in those PMs.

The cyborg carefully unfolds one of the shurikens, wincing in pain briefly as he gets yet another paper-cut in the process.

This one comes to us from yet another NPC! "Is that true you had, like, an affair with Happy Amakirr?"

Magtok then does a double-take, re-reading the question silently with quite a bit of blinking and a look of general befuddlement spread across his face.

What?! Me, have an affair with...NO! Why, how could I...I don't even-

Our cyborg turns a bright shade of red as he tears the letter to bits, gettin yet another paper-cut in the proccess.

OW! No, of course not! I don't mean she's ugly, it's...the woman is more-or-less crippled, married to a super-powered vampire, I don't think of her as...just no!

Magtok hurriedly scrambles for the remaining two shuriken-questions, intent on answering them in another post sometime later.

[Eternal Drifter]

A young man, leaning on his staff, enters.

"Sir, a question: if you were leaving the Nexus, what supplies would you take with you?"

Looks like Drifter is about ready to pack up and leave Town.

[Lord Magtok]

Aaaaaand we're back!

When we last left off, Magtok was just in the middle of opening up two of his shurikens, when Drifter, a member of our audience, asked yet another question. Now, while your letters are very important to us, we certainly can't just let them take priority over someone who's right there, on the screen, can we? No, of course not, it'd be rude! And who knows what horrible magicks (or real shurikens :smalleek:) they might have?

Supplies? Well, given that I've never really found or seen anything outside this world before, I suppose...a towel. A towel and a toothbrush. You'll never go wrong so long as you've got those two travel essentials alongside you. I think there's a hitch-hiking guide somewhere that mentions one of those two somewhere...Anyways, on to another question!

The shuriken-letter is opened by a Magbot this time, so as to prevent further laceration of Maggy's poor fingers.


"Hey, Tin Man. When did you decide to devote yourself to scum and villiany?"

Woo, another easy one! I'd say around a few weeks before AMEN ever formed. That was what...three, four years ago? More? I'd decided my genius was wasted on the likes of yourselves, that I could no longer go around like some puppet doing tricks for money in front of a screen and so I-

Magtok blinks, looks at his question cards, the cameras, and then a sudden sinking realization sets in.

Err...Our next question comes from yet another nameless fellow with no return address! Remember folks, if you ask questions like the Happy Affair thingy, at least leave some sort of means for us to thank you for it, later. Oh, and if your present starts ticking or counting down ominously, that only means you're not standing close enough! Don't cut the red wires, or you'll ruin the surprise!


About how many times do you die or your clones within a week due to 'industrial accidents'?

Hmm? Industrial accidents? Never! Honestly, why would I ever get killed by my own designs? I assure you, the MagCave is entirely work-safe for all, and I wouldn't change the system even if-

A large Magbot with a red star on its chest and a slew of other communist symbols rides in on a bear wearing a beret. It briefly glares at Magtok, before lumbering back off-stage.

Err...I mean, yes! Sadly, it is still unsafe, and dozens of both Magbots and MagClones die there every month. But we've been working hard on fixing that, we've-

The bear-riding robot strides in again, and hands Magtok a piece of paper detailing some sort of surrender treaty. He looks over the thing briefly, turning quite pale as he looks at the Magbot with a mix of fear and loathing.

-got it all under control, thanks to this new policy here! Of course, I've got no time to go over it with the general public, but I assure you, the Magbots will get their just desserts in no time!

[happyturtle]

"Scum and villainy, Magtok? But... you aren't into that any more... right?" Happy asks. :smalleek::smallfrown:

[Eternal Drifter]

Drifter nods. "Thank you for that advice," he says. "I shall be sure to pick up a towel and a toothbrush, as well as a travel guide, at your store. I hope to see one of your Mag-bots at Mag-Mart! And borrow a guide to world domination at your local library of the Eternal Library system!"

Drifter moves to the back, next to the exit.

[Hyozo]

A very Hyozolike voice calls out from the audience "Hey botman, what percentage of your crimes would you say you've informed Amakirr about? Two? Three maybe?"

[Darkcomet]

A random NPC audience member suddenly has a blank look in his eyes and says, "Ignore him, he is a blatant hypocrite," and then suddenly shakes his head, the blank look gone.

...

Wonder what that was about.

[Hyozo]

"I'd say "Look who's talking", but that would only be misleading in this case, wouldn't you think?" replies the uncannily Hyozolike voice, somewhat mockingly.

[Lord Magtok]

Magtok clears his throat, takes a sip of water (provided from a glass he had to lean over to grab himself this time), takes a deep breath, flips through his back-up question cards written up by the staff, and slowly turns his gaze towards Happy.

I have not kidnapped anyone against their will, knowingly attempted to harm anyone who hasn't or was in the process of trying to do the same to me first, done no irreparable harm, I've generally kept as peaceful and non-violent as possible, and the closest I came to evil recently was 'borrowing' Trog's Tavern for a brief few days. No harm came of that to any-

Care to revise that sentence before you're caught in a lie, Magtok?

-I raised a gun at some team of faceless soldiers from some distant land also attempting to take over the place, whilst I was already managing the bar and harmlessly handing out drinks. That's all. Some others may've gotten hurt defending it, someone may've gotten seriously injured whilst helping me hold the place...it was by and large a bad idea, but by no means an evil or villainous one! HATS was a poorly executed joke to pass the time, and the Fortress of Maggitude airship is designed solely for defense.

Magtok takes another drink, and tries to ignore that gnawing fear inside him.

There, that should answer both your questions.