You've all been there. You're sitting there against a black backdrop, playing Call of Honor or Medal of Duty or whatever, when all of the sudden you're struck by the sneaking suspicion that there's a sexy machine woman standing right behind you. Ha, if I had a dime for every time I got that feeling!
Only this time it's different.
I know what you're thinking: sitting in a completely black room like that, dressing like someone on their way home from a Sisters of Mercy concert in the late '90s, of course you're going to be paranoid.
But seriously, I swear I can smell grease paint and... well, grease. No, it's not my eyeliner, jerk. Also, does duct tape have a scent, because I swear I smell duct tape.
This is silly. Let me just reach behind myself and... grommets? A lot of grommets. These feel like... oh my goth, they are vinyl boots — exactly the sort of boots a sexy cyborg would wear.
Screw it, this is stupid. I'm just gonna turn around...
...OK, there's a sexy cyborg standing behind me.
Well, that explains where the end of my dual shock controller wound up. She's probably plugged it into one of her badly Photoshopped orifices, controlling my game of Heroes of Medal II with her mechanical brain synapses.
What do I do? This is the sort of situation you think you're prepared for, but when it actually happens you freeze and just stare straight ahead. Maybe she'll go away. Heck, maybe she's already gone! I'll just take a peek.
Nope, still there. Very, very still there.
Think, Lucretia! Think, dammit! What do you have that could combat a remorseless killing machine with a PC power cable in her hair? What does a gothy gamer girl with a degree in shop class and a rudimentary understanding of Photoshop Elements have that could fell such a foe?
Sassy goth girl 1, sexy mechanical murder doll nothing. Let those horribly photo manipulated limbs and flat circuit board textures serve as a warning to cyborgs everywhere: I might be goth right now, but soon I'll evolve into a gear-savvy steampunk fan, and your days are numbered.
Photos: Jaimie Duplass/Shutterstock