That was mathematically hilarious

“No.”

This is accompanied by what sounds remarkably like Jack dragging his hand down his face.

“Do you have any idea what a real enemy would do? They would shut up.

“And my eyes are gorgeous.”

"Hey, not-buddy! I figured you'd be pretty eager to know how the sweaters are coming along. Good news! I'm putting the finishing touches on them as we speak.

"Who has zero opposable thumbs and knew colored macaroni made a bold fashion statement? This guy, this bot, this visionary, this fearless leader of all vault minions.

"Applause.

"Or a high five.

"Or a hug.

"Or rebooting my product line so that I can form an all claptrap circus act."

"No, there is no "frenemyship" or whatever other asinine term you can come up with between us."

"Do my auditory processors deceive me, or is that a whole lot of denial? We've had this talk before, frenemy of frenemies! Our hatred for each other balances the world. Without me, you lose meaning, purpose! Your empire would crumble around you.

"Know what's scientifically proven to stop Empire Crumbling Syndrome?

"Matching sweaters, not-friendo! That's why I'm making us some as we speak. Don't worry. I didn't hold back on the sequins. They'll bring out your Moderately Good Looking eyes."

arielshepard responded.

The thing about silence is that Claptrap has no trouble filling it all by himself. The music plays on, through astounding riffs and sudden bass drops, until he tires and returns his lens to the entity before him. She's so impressed, she's speechless. He'll have to save the encore for later.

"Hey! Couldn't help but notice your badass army of death-o-matics were blasting some sweet tunes. I thought I'd get in on the party. I mean, you wouldn't want to leave out your bestie Claptrap, right?"

#arielshepard

There’s a long, drawn out sigh.

"I hate you."

"And like that, our frenemyship is revived. Viva la resistance, O Moderately Handsome One."

"Is this thing on? Like, really on? On a scale of one to smooth jazz, how bombastic is my voice?

"'Cause this is important, minions. So important that I, Claptrap, intrepid traveler of the galaxies, have returned home to spread the word.

"About, well, me!

"I know some of you are hearing some epic tales about yours truly and that one time I was a one-wheeled, one-lensed, all badassed roving unit of death.

"I wanted to reassure everyone that it's all totally true!

"Let's go right to the part where we all celebrate with a group hug! C'mon, minions. Don't leave me hanging."

#ic: open rp

And it comes as a surprise to no one that you’re all idiots. Just do me a solid and go annoy them. Hey, maybe they’ll end up scrapping you in the process—saves me the trouble of doing it myself.

Ha! Your empty vows of violence show your true plan, O Handsome One. You've realized that without me, your arch nemesis, your existence is empty and that power is a total snooze fest.

Well, don't worry, frenemy of mine. I'm thinking up at least a hundred more best sort-of-buddy activities we can do together! My personal favorite is "Dodge the Mortar Strike." Feel free to pitch in.

Seriously? Have none of those slack-jawed bandits shot this thing yet? Put it out of its misery already.

You know what, scratch that. They deserve every annoying word that you come up with.

You're such a kidder! My minions appreciate my charm, rugged good looks, and supreme tactics! They'd plunge into a deep despair from which only the sheer force of my presence could pull them. And there's that whole part about how they'd do anything to keep me from yelling, "Don't shoot!" over and over when they try it. Or yelling in general. Or talking. Details, schmetails.

❝ You're still here. ❞

"Minion, I’m hurt, wounded, heartbroken, shattered, and not at all going to cry in the nearest bathroom the second you leave.

"Look at this face. But, uh, not too close because that’s kinda weird. We gotta keep this professional, strictly overlord to minion. You know how it goes.

"About the face thing, minion. Vengeance incarnate. Power untold. Majestic mystery. And maybe a little loneliness, allergies, and funny cat ECHO vids.

"There’s only one thing missing, minion. Can you guess what that is?"

#arielshepard

I don’t have words for how stupid this is. Oh, wait, I do. This is the most idiotic idea that’s ever been pitched to me—and I have an entire team of guys who do just that on a daily basis. Why hasn’t anyone deactivated this thing yet?

Haven't you been listening, O Handsome One? No one can stand up to my awesome power, shrill sobbing, and mighty box traps. Sure, you've got wealth, robot armies, vacations in tropical paradises, and that pretty lady voice that announces my minions' imminent demise, but what do you really have if not a badass trap?

It might sound complicated, so let yours truly break it down for you some more.

You're listening, right? 'Cause I'm not going to repeat it again.

I mean, not even if you asked nicely. Not even if you penned an epic ballad about our rivalry. Not even if you admitted your tech envy. Not even if you kick started my product line with me as their one and true ruler.

You ready for this?

Really, really ready?

A bazillion percent ready?

If you pass this up, arch nemesis of mine, it's gonna be a sad day. You can practically kiss your little fear-mongering, war-having, white-streak-in-hair-flourishing days goodbye.

Here goes:

Stick. Box. Bait. Profit.

Seriously, take notes on this stuff. It's gold. I'll be over here while you marvel at my genius.

Hey, kids!

Handsome Jack here, reminding you all that even though those tools in Sanctuary have a flying city they’re still going to lose. I know you’re thinking—hey, they’ve managed to escape before, they’ll do it again. Well, you’d be dead wrong. See, you can only run and hide so long before I catch up to ya.

But you know, you could always save me the trouble and turn yourselves over. Might even be merciful if you do.

This is how you lay a trap?

Ha! I laugh, O Handsome One!

Allow your arch nemesis Claptrap to give you a few pointers so that when we totally do epic battle, the playing field will be a little even. Not that it's gonna save you or anything. 'Cause it won't.

Step 1: Large boxes! Ever seen a trap that didn't use a box? Well, that means you've also seen a trap that sucked.

Step 2: Prop that baby up with a stick and put some of the best loot you can imagine right beneath it. We're talkin' maybe a little food, some money, soap, ECHOnet sims, puppies, mysterious artifacts from the far corners of the world that might or might not explode you in a fiery death, those little umbrellas that go in drinks, a stamp collection, a badass pet rock named Rockingworth, and anything else you can think of. I hear people aren't too picky and will totally fall for it.

Step 3: Observe your handiwork and watch as your enemies flock.

Now that you know my ultra secret, time proven tactics, I expect you to use them well. I know what you're thinking. "Claptrap, you're too noble. You've given away all your advantages."

Well, don't worry, minions. There's plenty more where that came from.

Yeah, yeah, you can eat me, alright. You know, I left the military to get away from douche-canoes who think they know everything telling me what to do all the time! (and because I got dishonorably discharged, but that’s not the point)

You’re just mad because my girlfriend thinks you’re a skeeze.

Minion, minion, minion. I know it's hard carrying around these feelings for me, but I don't think of you that way. I know, I know -- it's hard to accept, but remember it's not me, it's you.

Who am I kidding? It's totally you.

Girlfriend schmirlfriend.

What, you’re dusting off your old jokes and parading them out in...

Oh, c'mon! Don't you get it? That was hilarious. They don't make minions like they used to.

This is a robot-eat-minion world. I'm just showin' you the ropes, and I got plenty more where that came from.

If I were a gun I'd be a Jakobs revolver.

Oh, screw you! That was funny. I’m funny. In fact, I got a joke right now:

what’s the difference between a sharp-lookin’ guy on a bicycle and a shaggy-looking guy on a bicycle?

What, you're dusting off your old jokes and parading them out in front of me? I'm touched, minion. Flattered, thrilled, aflutter! But please, save yourself the embarrassment and let your bestie Claptrap break it down for you.

Why can't the bandit juggle? Because he didn't have the balls to do it!

If I were a gun I'd be a Jakobs revolver.

'cuz I fire as fast as you can pull the trigger! …actually, let me take that back.

C'mon, minion. You call that comedic genius? You need a few lessons from yours truly. All I need is your eternal worship and a new bottle of oil, and we'll get started!

theimpalingprince-deactivated20

✝ mathematicallyhilarious has entered Hellsing's basement.

Dark stone walls surrounded the throned No Life King, his legs crossed and gloved hands resting in his lap, the shadows filling every gap and space between the bricks like a black haze formed at his command, at his behest. Circular sunglasses (that he doesn’t need to wear, but wears anyway) reflect an intense orange red as he looks at the robot that’s entered his plane of existence. Humans have become so advanced, their creations always fascinated the old being. Synthetic life elevates the playing field, it turns the tide, and he watches. His pale lips curl into his trademark grin as he watched the bot, a deep hum coming from him before he speaks.

“Well, well. What have we here?”

When Claptrap realizes he's taken a wrong turn, he doesn't exactly know. Maybe it's the vibe of spooky and foreboding coming off the guy talking to him? That's as good a guess as any. Rolling to a stop, the small robot tips back to get a better look at him, lens focusing. "Y'know, I don't normally wander into creepy places and stick around, but I'll make an exception this once. I'm digging the atmosphere, minion."

#theimpalingprince

secondhumanspectre-archive-blog

secondhumanspectre started following you

“…. Fine.”

The word alone almost surprised Ashley, but in retrospect it only made sense. This Handsome Jack was threatening civilians, and as such Williams would look into it. If this VI was really just some glitched out machine, well, she could always chalk it up to an exercise in patience before figuring out what to do with the roaming piece of scrapmetal. Reaching her decision, Ashley loosely gripped the pistol she kept holstered.

“Take me to him. Let’s see what we can do about this Handsome Jack.”

"Really?" Claptrap's optic lens flickers. Someone not on Pandora agrees? "I'd like to charge off and find him. Believe me, minion, I would. But there's a catch! Which you should have totally seen coming. That's like the oldest trick in the book."

Rolling in place, he looks as if he's doing what amounts to robotic pacing. "See, he's on a different planet. In a different galaxy. And all of his facilities are surrounded by a whole bunch of technology that we don't know how to get past yet! So this whole recruitment thing is just for when my other minions stop punching stuff in the face, put their heads together, and figure something out."

#secondhumanspectre

iaintarealdoctor started following you

iaintarealdoctor

How could such a tiny little thing be so arrogant? It boggled Zed’s mind. Flabbergasted, he stared down at Claptrap and leaned forward, hands on his hips. His broad chest flexed in the gesture. This little machine was giving him such a nasty migraine…

Zed was compelled to see what made the damn thing tick. “Impressin’ ‘em through dress doesn’t have anythin’ to do with it.Unless ya wanna be like the Handsome Jackass.”

An apathetic shrug. “Dunno. Can’t say I’m the most charmin’ guy ‘round these parts. Ya’d be better off askin’ the Vault Hunter, son.”