1st place in Derby #191: Robots Save the World, with 681 votes!

“Hey, Murray! Fancy seeing you out tonight, eh? Bartender! How’s about getting Murray here a beer on my tab?”

“Aw, Stan, now you know that’s not necessary.”

“Nonsense. Didn’t I tell you the next time the Earth was in terrible peril, I’d buy you a drink? I think I used those exact words, in fact.”

“Alright, alright, have it your way. So what is it this time? Giant mutant lizards from below the surface? Enormous prophesied Moon Serpent? I saw in the paper Professor Pernicious escaped from…”

“Nah, none of that, Murray. Purple-tentacled space thingy. Huge. Throbby. Real bitey SOB, too, it sounds like.”

“We’re probably not going to escape its horrible wrath, I suspect.”

“To hear the news tell it, we won’t.”

“And I suppose there’s no hope, huh, Stan?”

“Just the one.”

“Right, right.”

“I tell you, Murray, I don’t know why they bother even reporting this stuff. And why the military even gets involved anymore is beyond me. Seems like an awful waste of taxpayer dollars to use up for all those tanks and missiles for all the good they do. We all know how this works by now, don’t we? They should just signal the Robot however they do, let him get the upperhand against the creature, malfunction just as he’s about to win, and then rally back from the brink of destruction just like he always does and get the dang thing over with. You’d think people got nothing better to do than sitting around and holding their breath just waiting to see if the world ends this time.”

“Eh. What can you do? People like a show. On the bright side, it keeps the bar nice and quiet.”

“Heh. Good point, Murray. I’ll give you that.”

Wear this shirt: when the odds are against you.

Don’t wear this shirt: if it needs more penguins or bunnies.

This shirt tells the world: “It’s sorta like when my kitty cat fights my Roomba.”

We call this color: Final Battle Black

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