"Damn. Didn't think I'd be spending 48 hours in there. Ah well, I'm sure the Space Diabeetus'll be worth it."
*Sees the body*.
"What the hell? Even Ultor cleaned the bodies off the floors when they were done with 'em! That's it, there's some major homicidal space-dickery going on around here and I'm meetin' it with my shotgun."
To be, or not to be. That is the question. Alas, either by unfortunate circumstance or the whims of cruel fate, 'tis already decided, against my will, that I shan't be.
"Who art thou," thou asketh, in a tone riddled in confusion and anger, "that thou so mightily butcher the English language with thy archaic words and thy pretentious tone?"
Brought back with technology and power no man should be able to wield, forced was I, to this trip to the innumerable stars, as a way to be shown what wonders this advanced technology hath wrought upon man. Though riddled I was, to the machinations of the carriage that doth bringeth me 'ere along with thee, soon thou found thyselves in panic, like little rats in a labyrinth, running around aimlessly even as one of thy kin lay slain on the floor! And now, fearful of me, for I refused to join thee in such debased and uncouth behaviour and instead, like Henry V in Agincourt, chose to stand my ground against the odds, thou hath marked me betrayer, vilest of the vile, seeker of death and murderer of the virtuous.
Thou art wrong. But in deaf ears doth my words fall, and so to slay me thou seeketh, thinking thyselves to be righteous! Fools thou'st be, for thou hast allow'd pride to win over reason!
But I shan't die by thy hand, for a man who chooseth to act dies in their own terms. And so, locked I am, in the room amptly named "Oxygen Purification", from which I shall deliver upon thee a message.
"Greetings" I start as I stare upon the screen that broadcasts to all, "Be not afraid of overtly long speeches, for brevity is the soul of wit, and therefore I shall be brief. For when words are sparce, they are seldom spent in vain. Death dost thou chooseth for I, and death I shall taste. Death is a fearful thing, but afraid I refuse to be, for 'tis the cowards that die many times before their deaths; the valiant never taste of death but once. One of thee does as they so chooseth, murdering thy kin and friends whilst thou choose to act not, awaiting instead blessed salvation. Nothing can come of nothing. And so, I beseech thee to act, but knowing that thou shan't unless given cause, cause 'tis that I shall giveth thee."
Using the crudely made weapon called the "assault rifle" I saw used many a time in the artless, crudely made "movies" that were supposed to be used as entertainment for our trip, I unload its contents upon the oxygen machine, chasing it to start on a path of self destruction.
"And so, I rob thee of the luxury of time. If thou time wasteth, then so shalt time waste thee. All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players: they have their exits and their entrances; and one man in his time plays many parts. We are the stuff that dreams are made on, and in this Brave New World, 'tis not in the stars that our destiny be held, but in ourselves. I wish thee luck in thy endeavours, and may the light of virtue illuminate the path of wisdom upon thee."
The machine, damaged as it is, seemingly can no longer bear the weight of its own existence, and I realise that my time is at an end. And so, I end my speech with the "hippiest" of taunts, one that the "edgy" people of this age will surely appreciate.
Guys, what did you do? You killed Shakespeare! Is this because you thought he killed me? That's so sweet! Thanks for trying to avenge me! You guys are the best friends a dead guy could have!
Nice prose, Neuro! At least you didn't go out cleaving two innocent bystanders like I did that one time, but this still seems like a bad thing. Especially since there's no body to loot.
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