Mega blocks. Mega highways. Mega City One. Convulsing. Choking. Breaking under its own weight. Citizens in fear of the street. The gun. The gang. Only one thing fighting for order in the chaos: the men and women of the Hall of Justice. Juries. Executioners. Judges. And on bitchin’ awesome motorcycles as well.
Beyond genetic discrimination, there’s one other big problem with being a mutant: Giant robots. Or more specifically, giant Sentinel robots which can lock on to a mutant power signature and introduce Homo Superior to Machina Hand Laser. Still think being a mutie is cool?
I seem to be on a Transformers roll today. The Transformers: Devastation game ain’t half-bad if you can wait for it to be on sale, but I’ve always been a bigger fan of the toys. Especially the toys that those damn kids can’t afford and should keep their sticky germ-ridden fingers off of. And right now, I want to sell Sandy’s organs to get my hands on a Prime piece of Transformers merchandise.
I’ve always admired the purity of the Xenomorph. A phallic nightmare, a survivor... unclouded by conscience, remorse, or delusions of morality. Now I won’t lie to you. Having a Xenomorph replica in your collection, can only end in the kiss of death. But you do have my sympathies.