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"Crank up the fog machine!" Vicious Cycle sliced his way into the Air and Space Museum like a hot knife through butter using a big foam finger laser. A pair of look-alike cheerleaders in dazzling uniforms with missile-firing pompoms trailed behind strutting their stuff in tandem setting off the metal detector. The outlaw mascot plucked a fist-sized meteorite specimen from its glass-paneled cabinet. "Who's your stay-at-home weekday bonus uncle daddy now? I'll melt this down to plate myself in a heavy metal amalgamation with ultimate tensile strength three times greater than cold-rolled Bethlehem steel! And yeah, no... it won't make me the coolest-looking thing in the universe at all!"

Yusuf expertly stuck a three point save-the-day landing with RIX. "Is this a grownup party? Angaar, it's me, your brosuf. Don't you remember playing hacky sack on the safety school quad? Making a bong out of a pop can ring any bells?"

Vicious Cycle holds space rock

Like when Mel Blanc, yes, that Mel Blanc was in hospital unresponsive with a Glasgow Coma Scale of 3 and addressed as Bugs responded in character, "Ah, what's up, Doc?" Angaar asked without hesitation, "How much are you benching now?

"Gym muscles aren't real muscles."

"How'd things work out with your mom's new boyfriend?" Vicious Cycle then turned disconcertedly with a sudden jerk as the name echoed around his brainpan. The impersonal engine deliberated as this truism sunk in. Maybe after casting out his demon it felt like he lost the best thing going for him, so he let it back in. "Spam in a can, that name no longer has any meaning for me. We're raised by machines so what's the big whoop I became one? But where are my manners? Allow me to present my fast company: Fare-Thee-Well, and Ne'er-Do-Well -- a.k.a. the Well twins." The ungovernable biker admired the engineering prowess of the electromechanical hard-shell suit cutting a monumental figure, "Way to kitbash! Now Don Quixote rides windmills? Game faces girls! Shake what your mama gave ya!" he growled dropping the glittering outer space orb like it was hot.

The twins cheered, "Ready? We can't hear you! Okay!" as protective face masks extended from their over-the-top techmod outfits.

"Bruh, are we still talking about the fight?" the dark horse detective you've never heard of asked. "What point could you possibly be trying to prove? Is there a goal here? Tough love it is. RIX! Gear up!" the grease monkey gritted his teeth. A pendulum ride rotated armor shielding into place with finely tuned precision. A swing ride deployed Swiss Army knife-style with the large scale robot adopting a battle-ready stance for the horsepower war.

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