Focus Groups (Undisclosed, surrounded by money)

Terrorbyte jumped on the table and raised his hands to the heavens, gloating like a Dirk Black supervillain. Outside, members of the staff looked in with concerned faces, quietly making bets on what happened next.

"Yes! YES! Now you see, Dwick! Now you will know the POWER... OF SUPERPOINT! BWAAAA HA HA HA HA! BEHOLD! MY FIVE POINT PLAN - OF PAIN!"

Crack.

"NO! NO! IT'S NOT TRUE! IT'S IMPOSSIBLE!"

Terrorbyte cowered at the sound! That headgear was supposed to stand up to a 1000 pounds of strength!

Was Dwick's horrible mouth really that strong!?!

Well, something was happening, as a thin trail of blood was now oozing around the side of his mouth. The rest of him was eerily still, though; his eyes were still bugged out staring at the screen, and aside from the steady rise and fall of his bloated chest, he seemed motionless.

CRACK.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO"

…and the mouthguard began pulsating with a bright blue light.

Oh. Right.

Biotic.

A split second alter, a bright blue missile shot past Terrorbyte and embedded itself into the Superpoint presentation screen, leaving a crater in the reinforced wall. Behind him, Dwick grinned, revealing several missing teeth (which rather explained the cracking noises). Tilting his head to leer at the volus, he ran a tongue past one of his bleeding gums, felt the rivulets of blood trailing out his lower lip…and let out a malevolent cackle.

“AH TOLDJA!” he shouted, his entire body flashing to life. “AH TOLDJA, T’AIN’T NO CORK BEG ENOUGH TER SHUT ME UP!”

Terrorbyte dove under the desk as the biotic flash filled the room.

"You think I came unprepared?!?" Terrorbyte cackled as he reached into the secret compartment under his desktop. "You think I am but a mere amateur!? JORGAL DWICK, I AM TERRORBYTE THE UNHOLY! IF YOU WILL NOT SHUT YOUR MOUTH, THEN I SHALL SHUT IT FOR YOU!"

With that, the squat volus suddenly did a triple-backflip back onto the desk like some ball-shaped acrobat. In his hands was held a massively long tube with a trigger; numerous warning stickers (EXPLOSIVE, DANGER, and EEZO CONTAINMENT BREACH being the most prominent) covered the thing like pox on a plague-dog. Without a further word, Terrorbyte pointed the impossibly long tube at the krogan and pulled the trigger.

FWOOOOOOOOSH

But Dwick was just getting warmed up – popping the Cork was just his first trick. His entire body flashing with eezo, he cackled as Terrorbyte’s flames merely slid over him. At the same time, he thrashed about in his seat again, his ponderous body serving as a conduit through which he shattered each limb’s restraints.

“GOOD FUCKIN’ LUCK! AIN’T NOTHIN’ WHAT CAN KEEP ME DOWN, FOR I AM JORGAL!”

CRASH

“FUCKIN’!”

SMASH

“DWICK!”

"YOU ARE YESTERDAY'S NEWS, AND I AM TODAY'S BUBBLEGUM CHEW!"

Terrorbyte tossed away the flamethrower and pulled out two katanas, seemingly from nowhere. Waving them through the air like the world's deadliest cuisinart, Terrorbyte did yet another triple backflip through the air into the wall behind him before launching himself at the krogan. He was a small, pissed-off beachball of death.

"HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWAAAAAA"

”HRAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!”

Dwick kicked his way out of the last of his restraints, and, hurling himself into the air, he grabbed his reinforced prison by the back and SWATTED Terrorbyte with it. The volus flew through the air, slamming against the wall and sending a spiderweb of cracks flying through it.

”YOU’RE SOMMAT TER CHEW, AWRIGHT! AN’ WHEN I’M THROUGH WIT’CHOO, YER GONNA WISH YOU WERE DEAD!"

Terrorbyte took the hit on the chest, being a tried and true warrior of the Ancient Volus Way. Throwing the swords - hundreds of them now, in quick succession, Terrorbyte called upon his ancient Animal Spirit to give him the power needed to destroy Dwick once and for all.

"OH GREAT MOXIE SPIRIT, I CALL UPON YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOU"

Sword after ludicrously-krogan-sized sword sailed through Dwick’s body, plowing through the wall behind him with the force of cannons and ripping it to shreds. The wall collapsed as the assault continued, with the next conference room’s occupants screaming as they were skewered, impaled and otherwise cut in half by the volus’ deadly throws.

And it might have worked – had Dwick been there in the first place.

As the attacks slowed, the krogan simply grinned, his arms folded, ever so simply inching towards him – until his entire body disappeared with a static “BZZT.”

Behind him…



A shadow loomed.

Terrorbyte shrieked in incoherent rage at the giant krogan. His eyes began to melt.

And then, he turned into a dragon.

"SO, WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THAT, DWICK? DWICK?"














"Dwick?"

"Dwick? Hello?"

“Nuh…higuhh…buh…fuh?”

Dwick’s eyes snapped open. He was at the table again, the room pristine and spotless as always. Half a dozen aides and glancing at him, and a SuperPoint presentation on the demographics watching the latest SHORT HOUR were gleaming on the screen across from him.

Terrorbyte was looking at him expectantly.

“Uhh…Did I miss sommat?”

"I was asking what *hsssssk* you thought of the marketing *hssssssk* strategy, Dwick. You know, into *hsssssk* Illium? You feeling *hssssk* alright?"

The entire boardroom stared at Dwick, confused looks on their faces.

There was about five seconds of awkward silence as the entire room stared at each other. Then Dwick cleared his throat a few times as he tried to straighten his bulk on his chair.

“Ah, yeah. Heh. Uh, got distracted wit’ sommat on my ‘toll, see, an—AHEM. Right, da marketin’ strategy. “

Somewhere in the back of his mind, a bloated, suited dragon with a Lite-Brite mouth roared nasally as it fought a flash-stepping ninja with a glandular problem. He tried to ignore it, reaching for a datapad instead.

“Uh, sounds like you got things mostly under control, but I wanna take a look at dese outliers – y’know, da se…uh, seventy-ter-eighty-five percent age demographic, see? If we kin find a lo-cost way ter rope ‘dem in...”

fin