“Well, well, well.” The clicking of expensive shoes echoes down the vast aisle of the bus, as a man wearing a nice black suit, a pair of thick-rimmed green glasses, and an obnoxious smile descends on our heroes like a bird of prey.
He pauses, briefly, to tap the side of his glasses, which respond by projecting a bubble of green energy over the group in front of him, immobilizing them all instantly.
From the other direction comes the thunderous clunk of Bustodian armor, and the remaining buses are herded into the CEO’s immobilizing field. The Bustodians—hundreds upon hundreds of them—then march their way to surround the field on all sides, and start slowly circling about it like wolves around a wounded deer.
“Hm… we’re still missing the loud ones.”
He waves his hand, and the wall of prison cells shifts, rearranging itself horizontally until 2 bus cells, containing the now bruised and battered FunkyBusDriver and ClownBusDriver, come fully into view.
“This is truly impressive. Really. I haven’t seen so many new bus-cryptids together in one place for… well, millennia.”
The man’s smirk grows even wider as he saunters over to the ShittyBus and runs his hands along its side. “Once we dissect these beasts, the technology we gain will utterly solidify our monopoly on the bus-market. You did very good in orchestrating all this, GoodBusDriver#614232. And, after your old bus is disassembled, you’ll get a shiny new one along with the promotion you were promised.”
