Now with 50% more useless text Circulation: 182,181,004 Issue: 461 | 17th day of Gathering, Y12
Home | Archives Articles | Editorial | Short Stories | Comics | New Series | Continued Series

Paparazzi: Part One

by a_greenparrot


Dedicated to animageous who wanted me to write about the robotic Cybunny.


     Activation. It’s been so long that I’ve been here immobile, dormant. I don’t know how many years it has been since Dr. Sloth shut me down and put me away. Perhaps I should explain who I am. My name is Miranda; I’ve been called many things throughout this whole ordeal, but that is who I have always thought myself to be. I wasn’t always a monster. Once I was just a simple Cybunny living a happy life. Then one day I was taken without warning; I was to become one of Dr. Sloth’s many experiments.

     I suppose that I’m one of the lucky ones; I did not explode or mutate or anything horrible, yet maybe that would have been better after all. Instead I became merged with robotics to become superior; however, being a robot means that you need to follow commands; and Dr. Sloth’s only command was kill. I became the cyborg Cybunny. Dr. Sloth used my design when he caused the Neoquest II mayhem, and again I was used in an attempt to thwart the PPL. However, there are many other times when I was sent out to destroy, times that weren’t recorded. Eventually, after Sloth’s latest downfall I was deactivated and that’s where I have been for all these years. Until today.


Villain’s Log:

     Dear Log, my name is Myrtle and I am writing this because when I become the all powerful villain I’m gonna need some record of my history. Let me give you the lowdown of my life as a villain so far: My sister, Larkin, and I discovered Dr. Sloth’s stash of evil inventions some time ago, and we’ve been using them for our crimes. Larkin is the brains of the operation and I’m the... fun. Just above my head is a ginormous laser that’s supposed to control the weather or something. Then at the other end of the room is a small remote-like device with pincers that erase memories.

     Currently I’m looking over some of Sloth’s blueprints. I brush my hoof through my cloud Gnorbu mane as I examine several different designs for a mass manipulator. They don’t seem to be anywhere near finished, so I move onto to the next sheet. What I see is so exciting that I can’t help but jump up and down clapping and giggling. Wait’ll you hear this, it’s the cyborg Cybunny! In the top right corner 726 is written. I assume that the is the room where the Cybunny is stored. I dart off eager to tell Larkin.

     “Larkin, Larkin, look at what I found!” I call very giddily.

     Larkin is a Faerie Lenny who, for some reason, never understands the idea of smiling. She says that villains don’t smile unless it’s for an evil purpose, but I’m pretty sure I’ve seen Sloth smiling on his birthday and other joyous events. I’m certain that my sister will fold under my influence eventually. At the moment she is trying to unfreeze the freeze ray.

     “What is it?” she sighs, obviously not interested.

     “It’s so super awesome; I mean this is like our biggest discovery ever!” I cheer.

     Larkin just stares at me blankly and replies, “Well?”

     “Okay, you’re not going to believe this,” I say, barely able to contain myself. “It’s the cyborg Cybunny; I know where it’s stored.”

     I see a spark go off in Larkin’s eye. Her expression remains the same, but I can tell that she’s been intrigued.

     “This is good news,” she mutters. “If we can have a minion do work for us, we can expand our criminal territory. Of course, we’ll have to make sure that this Cybunny is fully functional. Take me to her.”

     You see, this is one of those where a normal person would be smiling, but Larkin just keeps her frown. Even though finding an evil robot seems like a pretty diabolical event, I guess it doesn’t fit Larkin’s idea of an evil time to smile. Anyways, I skip down the old halls; I climb over debris and hop over wires. Our base is located in the center of the Space Station where no one goes anymore; it’s a great hideout, but not exactly safe.

     After a bit more walking we arrive at a door marked 726. Unlike many of the rooms surrounding it, 726 has kept its door attached and undamaged. Larkin slides it open and I squeal with delight as my dreams come true and I see the robotic Cybunny standing in front of me. Next to it are a series of small devices, such as a box with several knobs, and an orb with a grey spot on it.

     Larkin picks up the box and says, “This must control her thinking.”

     I glance at it and see that each of the knobs is labeled with an emotion; anger is turned to its fullest. I return my gaze to the Cybunny. She is half normal with rough black fur and a tuft of white fur on her head, while the other half is made from pieces of sharp metal and wires. I notice on the back of the robotic side of her head she had a small disc, I assume that that is what connections her brain to her controls.

     “Let’s see if she works,” Larkin declares as she presses her feather into the grey spot on the orb.

     Immediately every orifice on the Cybunny glows a violent red. Her normal eye opens slowly and examines us. I hear clicking and whirling from inside her robotic half.

     “Greetings, mistresses,” she says to us.

     Her voice is clearly female; it might have beautiful once, except now it sounds as if it’s been mixed with grinding metal.

     “What are we going to do with it first?” I ask Larkin.

     “I’ve had a plan in mind,” Larkin says slyly, “She is going to rob one of Neopia’s wealthiest enterprises, The Hidden Tower.”

     Larkin presses a button on the emotion box and the Cybunny’s face contorts with rage.


From the desk of Samuel Peterson:

     Hello there, my name is Samuel Peterson as I sure you got from the heading. I’ve been under a lot of stress lately and apparently a good remedy to stress is to keep a journal of your day, so here I am.

     I am a writer for the Neopian Times. Back in the day I was very successful; my secret for this success was that interest was more important than the truth. So if a story would be more interesting if it was slightly untrue, then that’s what I wrote. No one ever noticed... for a while. But just a little bit ago I was once again in front of Judge Hog, it’s getting harder and harder to get him to let me off the hook.

     I look at the pile of paper on my desk and decide to begin working. I dust off my blue suit and pick up the first paper. It reads, Jhudora + Illusen; that was going to be my next top story, and so far it was pretty interesting without any tampering.

     The next few papers were bills. I sigh; I suppose I’d better get these done before it’s too late. The next note is from Mrs. Peterson, she writes, You promised you’d pick up dinner tonight. I flick my red Lutari tail in irritation, even though she had told me just this morning, she couldn’t resist sending me a note too. And now if I didn’t have time to get dinner I couldn’t use the excuse, “I forgot.”

     The last notice was from the Defenders of Neopia. My impulse was to just toss it into the waste basket and never open it; but of course, that wouldn’t help. I tentatively open it, fearing that once again I’ll be punished for some crime. Instead it states, Mr. Peterson, your son has been causing trouble again. Please come to the DoN headquarters to pick him up and be prepared to pay a fine.

     “I can’t do all this!” I cry in frustration.

     I then let me head drop to my desk. Why can’t I ever get a break in life?

     “Maybe I can help you with that,” comes a plucky voice.

     I look up and see a young green Kau standing in my doorway. She is wearing a short purple dress and has fiery orange hair down to her shoulders.

     “Who are you?” I ask completely shocked by her appearance.

     “I’m Peppi Pansy, paparazzi for Peterson’s pressing paper to process punctual products,” she says with a smug grin, “I came up with that on my way here.”

     “Slow down,” I mutter unsure how should could spew so many P’s in one sentence.

     “I’m here to help you take photos and come up with some stories,” she declares pleasantly. “I was sent here by the agency.”

     “What agency?” I ask, perplexed.

     “The agency,” she replies as if it’s the most obvious thing ever, “You know?”

     “No, Miss Pansy, I’m afraid I don’t know,” I sigh, getting fed up with her attitude.

     “Well, it’s an agency that sends out aid for anyone who needs it,” the Kau explains. “If you need a nanny, they got it; if you need an organizer, they got it... and if you need a photographer, I’m your gal.”

     “That’s great, because I need all three,” I exclaim semi-sarcastically.

     Without asking for permission, she starts to go through my paperwork.

     “You’ve got quite a few errands to run,” she exclaims. “Why don’t you let me deal with this.”

     She holds out the card marked Jhudora + Illusen.

     “Now wait just a minute,” I say. “I’m in a very delicate situation here, I can’t just send some second-rate photographer off to take care of this valuable story. I need some proof that I can rely on you.”

     “Well, I took a couple photos a couple minutes ago,” she says as she reaches into her bag and hands me a couple photos.

     “Th-these are me,” I gasp as I stare at the photos of me on my way to work. They are good quality and I had no idea she was even there. “Peppi Pansy, you’re hired!”

To be continued...

Search the Neopian Times

Week 461 Related Links

Other Stories


Magic Vs. Money: Part One
In the dreary dimness of the swamp, a green Ixi woman in patchwork clothes and a pointed, broad-brimmed hat made her way through the trees, paying barely any attention to the mangy meowclops following after her.

by al_bester


Ten Thousand Faeries
"I'll teach you some manners," Hubrid said...

by sylviau

Submit your stories, articles, and comics using the new submission form.