Previously, on Attack of the Cliches!

[By this time next year, machines and zombies shall cover the world… In payment for my assistance, when the time is right, I will require one particular human to be brought before me… alive. It is my great desire to personally end his life. He goes by the name… Jeff Goldblum.]

And now, Part Two of Attack of the Cliches!

“Well. I, ah… I must say, Zanthar. Umm… this is ah… quite the mess we’ve got on our hands.”

[As usual, Goldblum, your hindsight is overly simplified and overdue to say the least. Do you have any idea how much restraint I am currently employing to keep from obliterating you where you stand?]

“Ah… I seem to uh… recall some minor detail. Yes, yes I… believe you were the one who came to me for ah… for my assistance. Which I am umm… more than willing to redact at this ah… particular juncture.”

[Don’t be ridiculous! You know as well as I we are the only two beings on this miserable planet who have the mental faculties to reverse this robot zombie apocalypse.]

“Ah… and uh… this is where I ah… should pause to point out that umm… you were the cause of the ah… said apocalypse.”

[I’m not even from this galaxy. How was I to know the black magic that animated my deathless army would fuse with Slaughterbot 5000’s circuitry?]

“It was ah… inevitable, really. The uh… laws of Chaos Theory state that—”

[Oh give it a rest, Jeff! We need to find out how the robot zombies are replicating themselves.]

“I ah… would first contest your ah… classification of our quarry.”

[What are you techno-babbling about now?]

“Yes, you see… I believe what we’re ah… dealing with a variety of uh… zombified cyborg— a zomborg, if you will. Yes, because umm… one cannot ah… reanimate an inanimate object, per se.”

[Okay fine. But that doesn’t explain how they’re able to multiply so rapidly.]

“Quite the ah… contrary, really. The umm… decomposing grey matter housed within each uh… cadaver/automaton hybrid is being supported by a… network of electromagnetic impulses of some uh… corrupted AI interface—”

[You have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about, do you.]

“What I’m ah… trying to say is that these… entities require a constant supply of uh… expired organic and umm… robotic materials to pass on the ah… black magic virus, if you will, to the uh… next host.”

[An interesting theory. So you’re implying that we, being neither zombie nor robot, are immune to infection?]

“Yes, yes the ah… solution seems to lie in umm… in us joining forces, as it were.”

[I can’t believe I’m actually considering teaming up with my sworn enemy. I don’t suppose you have a plan, do you?]

“Yes, yes… some sort of ah… black magic virus anti-virus perhaps?”

[I suppose that will do for now. Grab a plasma cannon, Goldblum. We’ll need to fight our way to my spaceship.]

“Today is ah… one hell of a bad day to be a zomborg.”

Zombot at 604Republic