<i>Coffee? Never heard of him. Though, he would vaguely laugh at the idea of some rider being stuck with coffee. After this detour, he'd pull out a golden packet with a silver nozzle.</i> &quot;You bet your ass it is.&quot; <i>He'd twist the top of the nozzle, and toss it up before catching it and slamming it down into the belt, causing a burst of what looked like transparent motor oil to fly out onto the floor in front of him.</i> <b>ROBOT JELLY</b> <i>The sound of loud industrial machinery clashing and banging could be heard from his belt, as he did a pose of sorts, holding his finger to his head, then pointing it to the sky, letting it fall before it aimed at Spidey. He'd point it back up without changing the location of his hand.</i> &quot;Henshin.&quot; <i>He'd flick his wrist up and let his arm rest at his side as a large beaker formed around him, slowly filling with the same fluid that came out of his belt earlier. As the beaker filled, it seemed that the walls of it would begin twisting in, until it covered his body. Within seconds the wall would disappear, leaving him in a golden armor with a white helmet.</i> <b>CRUSHING! OOZING! OVERFLOWING!</b> <i>The top of the helmet then shot out the same fluid, covering his body in it until it formed into a black transparent chestpiece and helmet.</i> <b>ROBOT IN GREASE! BURRRRRRRRRRRRRRAH!!!!</b> &quot;I'll set my soul ablaze... and crush you!&quot; <i>The fluid would this time emerge from the palm of his hand, forming into a blaster of sorts mounted on his wrist. He'd pound his chest and begin charging him, shooting golden beams as he ran.</i>

<i>Grease would roll around the first shot of web, but is then struck in the back by a pan, it doesn't phase him, but he would look disdainfully at it.</i> &quot;What's wrong? Didn't bring your own weapon? I have mine right here!&quot; <i>He'd pull a strange purple bottle out and place it into his wrist weapon.</i> <b>SINGLE! SINGLE FINISH!</b> <i>As soon as he fired it, the golden beams would be replaced by golden strands of web, which, should they hit, would bind the jumpy lad.</i> &quot;If you don't fight back properly, you'll ruin the party!&quot;

<i>A new face enters the establishment, only to see on the counter a note written in very floral handwriting. It has a face of something inhuman winking, or at least that's what it seems like.</i> &quot;... 'I am sorry, but I have to run an errand, feel free to use whatever facilities, but please clean up! -Deneb'... I guess a place like this doesn't worry about getting robbed...&quot; <i>The man sets down his rucksack, sitting on a couch near the door. He checks his phone, covered with stickers of some idol or other. No service. Figures...</i> &quot;Damn... this doesn't make any sense!&quot; <i>His stomach would growl, almost joining in on his anger. He'd sigh, and go behind the counter, taking liberties with the note's instructions. He'd go to the far end, going through some large fridge, and coming out with several plates piled with ingredients. He'd scan the kitchen area, only to let his eyes fall upon a frilly pink apron.</i> &quot;... Better than nothing...&quot; <i>A savory scent would begin to emanate from the stove, and shortly, a plate of noodles topped with veggies would find itself on the counter. He'd begin cleaning the stovetop, not wanting to leave a mess before he ate.</i>

<i>He'd look up from his cleaning, catching a glimpse of the bird.</i> &quot;What... you makin' fun of me?&quot; <i>Seeing his work being tossed away so flippantly, he'd simply stand in shock for a minute. After recovering, he'd feel around his shirt, apparently finding what he was looking for.</i> &quot;Well, you've certainly given me a reason to beat you up, huh? Fine then, Spiderdude, I'll give you a practice you'll remember, but if I win, and you're still conscious, you're gonna make me dinner, and you're gonna answer a few questions of mine.&quot; <i>Without waiting for a response, he'd head over to the standard pit style arena, standing in the corner with a strange smirk on his face.</i> &quot;I will admit, I didn't think I'd have a party this early...&quot; <i>With that, he'd pull out a strange light blue device, placing it firmly above his waist, causing a silver band to stretch and latch onto the other side forming a belt.</i>

Damn, still going after 2D girls huh? Real men can handle an extra dimension. MII-TAN MII-TAN MII-TAN MII-TAN

<i>A man in an unbuttoned brown shirt and black trunks enters the scene, behind him is a wagon filled with various odds and ends, a cooler, a grill, a pink pillow, a bag with a 'CAUTION' sticker over it, that sort of thing.</i> &quot;Shame nobody else is here... would've loved a cookout like the old days.&quot; <i>He begins laying out towels and setting himself up. The gunshot startles him, but he decides to ignore it for now, this was HIS day.</i>

[<b>FREEZE!</b>] <i>The ring of ice enclosed on the core, Grease caught within it. Absolute zero flooded the sphere, slowing the movement of even the atoms themselves. Matter itself expanded... to a breaking point. The atoms within the ring would start degrading, hopefully at a rate that could reach the core in time.</i> &quot;One... more... time...&quot; <i>From within the ice, Grease fell. On his knees, he remembered this feeling. His lips couldn't help but curl into a grin as he was ejected from the simulation.</i>

<i>As the blast comes towards him, he hunkers down, hoping his armor can tank the blast. Of course, after that ordeal passed, he'd place a purple and silver bottle next to the gray one inside his blaster.</i> [<b>TWIN! TWIN FINISH!</b>] &quot;EAT THIS!&quot; <i>He'd then fire a barrage of gilded orbs, each exploding upon impact. They weren't perfectly homing, but they did slowly drift toward their targets. If they missed, they'd fly harmlessly off, floating to the side as if still attempting to hit the enemy, but almost destined to never reach a destination befitting a weapon.</i>

<i>The lone farmer, equally wandering, enters the room. His eyes don't light up at the thought of fighting, but something else entirely seems to awaken in him.</i> &quot;A simulation... huh? Let's see if that simulation is real enough to challenge the fire in my heart, my soul.&quot; <i>All he could do is stand around disinterested to say the least, but it never hurts to strike up small talk.</i> &quot;You two... seem awfully relaxed about this whole affair. Couldn't you find a better use of your time together than fighting?&quot; <i>He'd let that question hang. Those words seemed to be the only thing he said that had any hint of emotion behind it. He wouldn't wait for an answer.</i> &quot;Well Mr. Computer Expert, I'm ready to go... As I'll ever be.&quot; <i>With that he'd pull out a light blue device, which was likely a belt. He did, after all, place it upon his waist. He'd grip a packet of... something, twisting the cap on it. He'd place this packet into his belt.</i> [<b>ROBOT JELLY</b>] <i>From within his belt, a metallic clanking of presses and gears echoed. He'd press down on the spanner placed on this side of his belt, causing steam to eject from his packet.</i> [<b>CRUSHING! OOZING! OVERFLOWING!</b>] <i>A beaker formed around him, filling with a viscous black substance, one that rose to his shoulders before the beaker itself became like plastic wrap, twisting over his body, shooting the black substance into the air.</i> [<b>ROBOT IN GREASE! BURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAH!</b>] <i>With his armor prepared to go, he'd stand. No breathing, no adjustment or anything. He stood as if he had become a statue.</i> &quot;A battle between robots, eh? I guess I went and made this cliche...&quot;

<i>Weakened from repeated strikes, Grease's horn manages to deflect the attack meant for his head. Thankfully (or not) the rapier strikes his belt, which saves him, but not his armor. The blast flings him away, but he manages pull out the now leaking jelly from his busted belt, and lying broken on the floor. Surely for a weaker soul this would have been the end, but there was one last trick, one final act to spit in the face of these damned machines. A black belt, a dazzling circle, and a crimson crank. With the last of his strength, he places a light blue brick into it. The air chills.</i> [<b>BOTTLE CHILL! GREASE BLIZZARD!</b>] <i>The moisture in the air around him condenses into a thick icy fog. A machine can be seen vaguely from within, but all it does is slide forward before disappearing. The fog freezes into a solid brick of ice, exploding into shards of crystalline water.</i> [<b>THE SUBZERO FLAME! GREASE BLIZZARD! CHILL! CHILL! CHILL! CHILL! CHILLY!</b>] <i>As Grease approaches the husk of the robotic tank, his footprints freezing the earth beneath him. He cranks the wheel, still limping from his prior injury.</i> [<b>SINGLE ICE! TWIN ICE! GLACIAL FINISH!</b>] &quot;<span class="underline">Run.</span>&quot; <i>A ring of ice forms around the core, growing in intensity. Light itself is blurred beneath such cold temperatures, forming an icy void. One with no signs of stopping its growth. Simply being in the presence of it chills to the bone, so heeding his warning was the best option.</i>