20034/Bad Batch Patrol

Bad Batch Patrol
Date of Scene:	08 February 2025
Location:	Times Square
Synopsis:	The cookie crumbles when Katsumi and the Cliffster get caught in the cat's cradle.
Cast of Characters:	Cliff Steele, Katsumi Oshiro
Tinyplot:	Threads

---

Cliff Steele has posed:
Here we are again, Times Square. Center of the world.

It seems like a million people are out tonight, most bustling through their daily lives, just trying to navigate the maze of human traffic. Others, slack-jawed tourists bombarded by all the light and sound and life. And there are those who make their trade here--various freaks, weirdos, and con artists, gaudily dressed entertainers and pitchmen, each with their own gimmick and hustle to match.

It would be easy to imagine the retro robot clad in classic punk attire to be one of the latter, handing out promo flyers or selling mix CDs. In truth, he's just another figure in the crowd, trying to make his way to the Port Authority Terminal and from there the hyperloop home. It's been a long day and he's ready to be done with it.

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
For someone like Katsumi, at this particular junction of her life, she's just trying to get by and figure out her next step. However, some creature comforts have been afforded her - namely in the form of hustling some people out of money. All it takes is a little street smarts. Spotting the right alley, noticing the table and telltale grunting of competition, and feigning a doe-like innocence. Armwrestle? Who, her? She's just a small thing! When it came down to it, a skill in acting and selling goes a long way towards making a convincing struggle. But naturally, she ekes out the win, and they call foul as soon as she takes the money. Then it's a matter of vanishing into the crowd!

Which is how she's wound up here, in the bright lights and interweaving bodies of Times Square. She can just /feel/ the judgmental gaze of the exceedingly woolly calico cat following her, and can already hear his droning voice: 'Trickery and theft are beneath you now.' A girl's gotta eat, though! And it's either that, or pit fighting!

Suddenly, she takes a turn and nearly bumps into a tall, metallic figure. "Eep!" She diverts direction, nearly smacking into another pedestrian but for a graceful weave around their person, then another, and a third, before managing to pirouette her way back to standing right in front of him.

"Um." She blinks owlishly up at him. "Konbonwa, Roboto-san."

This is said with an absolutely straight face.

Cliff Steele has posed:
BUMP!

Yup, that'll happen in the city. The Cliffster blinks, nods, and mutters, "All good."

... And he's on his way. Sliding doors and all that.

Meanwhile, at Cliff's elbow, a gingerbread man grimaces as he flails in the cold night air, its tiny ginger mitts gripping tightly to the lip of jacket pocket. Yet the cracked leather flakes and a chunk becomes dislodged, sending the unfortunate cookie soundlessly screaming into the abyss. The halfbaked hitchhiker had nearly been nabbed by a pickpocket, save for a klutzy cat. But now that selfsame sugary spy was crumbling, tumbling to the ground, unmoored from his perch and headed straight for the pavement.

Smack.

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
New York. It's a Hell of a place. Katsumi continues on her way, strolling along opposite the mechano-man. Though she does stare back at him over her shoulder, perplexed by his very existence. Which causes her to bump the next person. Whoops!

The feline, however, has paused upon spotting the fine detail that is a gingerbread spy hitting the pavement. In true feline manner, the obscenely woolly cat bounds closer, effortlessly springing between legs and around feet on his way to closing in on the cookieman. Or is he /prey/.

Cliff Steele has posed:
Boy, this crowd is something else. Even a golden golem can't catch a break. So the Cliffster trudges along with a sigh, letting the press of bodies dictate his pace. He really just wants to get home and catch Rockford Files on TV Land. Tough seeing friends in jail, wishes he could just punch a hole through the wall. Plus, the whole thing with the phones, like something out of David Lynch. Well, it'll be over soon enough.

Meanwhile, not ten yards away, a spirited sweet struggles valiantly to its feet, shaking the cobwebs from its half-detached head. It crouches, assessing the situation. The cookie tracks its target, the lumbering lummox known as Cliff, as his gigantic strides threaten to leave the hardbitten biscuit behind, as well as its obstacle--one frumpy-looking cat on the prowl, along with a sea of heedless legs and feet.

It coils in anticipation. The cookie darts, leaps, swings off a pant cuff like Tarzan on a tenpenny scale. This caked crusader won't be iced that easily!

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
Pounce! Forepaws land where the cookieman stood mere moments ago! The calico's ears swivel, and his head turns to snap in its direction. Pupils dilate, and he takes off again in hot pursuit! The creature dashes between bodies like a multi-colored streak, breezing nimbly between legs, and finally planting all four paws on a nice dress shoe.

"Whoa!" The man did not expect to be accosted by a cat. The next man didn't expect to find a fluffy feline latched onto the back of his puffy coat like a small, sinister Spider-Man. "Aah!"

Herukage drops from his perch and springs, batting a paw at the cookie's new perch in an effort to jostle it loose!

Meanwhile, Katsumi is totally unawares. She's just thinking about what she's going to do for dinner tonight!

Cliff Steele has posed:
Huh. These street cats sure do get feisty. Well, who could blame them? Hard life out here.

The ruminating robot pauses to stoop down and offer a waggling finger of friendliness towards the burly tom.

"Hey there, pal. I bet you're super soft, huh?"

But at Cliff's heel, quite literally, our man from gingerbread land, err, lands with a somersault, having legged it away just in time from his feline foe. The crooked cookie grabs a discarded straw and charges, using the plastic tube as an improvised vaulting pole to launch itself halfway up Cliff's pantleg. And now, a grueling climb. The ginger guerilla's face grows a downward-pointing icing arrow on his brow. This cookie doesn't crumble!

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
The feline stops suddenly when accosted by the robot. His head tilts slightly to the side, the address distracting him from his quarry enough to let the gingerbread man escape. So Cliff is met with a distantly inquisitive, but somehow severely judgmental stare from a pair of naturally narrowed jade eyes. The gingerman chooses to double back, however! And the rustling of the pantleg and impact instantly gets the cat's focus again.

With an animated spring, Herukage pounces at the pantleg, attempting to bat the interloper to the ground!

Cliff Steele has posed:
"Hey! Hey! Bad kitty!"

The bouldering biscuit scrambles like Stallone in Cliffhanger, dangling from Cliff's coattails as he is savagely swatted at, spun like a frisbee onto the lip of a nearby trashcan.

The Cliffster turns, pivots, shoos. Hard to catch a cat climbing up your back, though.

"Fuck! Rabid cat!"

The gingerbread gymnast smiles nastily. Certainly this will be his opportunity to escape that vile beast. All he needs to do is slip away.

The cookie looks down, realizing that something has caught his foot. A fresh wad of gum, it seems.

He looks about desperately, seeking escape from the snare. There! A plastic butter knife! But it's just outside his reach. The cookie stretches--stretches--and he has it!

Desperately the possessed piece of confectionary begins to saw at his entrapped appendage, risking a backward glance towards an inevitable pursuer!

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
A harrowing tale, if ever there was one. The desperate struggle to escape a comparatively massive predator of fangs and claws, and a terrible choice to make. Risk the beast's savagery, or hobble yourself. Truly worthy of the twisted mind of Junji Ito.

The calico drops from Cliff, sparing him only a dubious look as if doubting the man's very convictions. His attention turns swiftly to the cookie in peril, and like a bullet, he races in his direction. Knees are evaded and whizzed by like a breeze through a tunnel, his mouth opening to reveal long felid fangs...!

"Rrrp!"

With the churrish complaint from the cat, Katsumi has scooped him up into her arms. "You're gonna get trampled like that, /dumbass/," she scolds the calico. Said feline stares flatly ahead, limbs dangling awkwardly in the air.

What a life.

Cliff Steele has posed:
"Oh, shit. That was your cat?"

Cliff looks down, embarassed, at the young woman that he'd previously bumped, now with a pouting purrbot in tow.

"Yeah, sorry about that. Must've scared the little guy. Hey, don't worry, pal. We're all friends here."

A finger extended, a waggle tentatively offered.

Elsewhere, on the rim of the abyss, the candied commando sets about his grisly work, sawing away grimly as the icing flows. Ripping a discarded bandage from the lip of the bin with candy corn teeth, he swaddles the severed limb and clambers unsteadily to his foot, using the frosting-smeared plastic polearm as a crutch. This mission was too important to be turned away by some catnip-sniffing cretin!

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
The finger is given a long look, before the feline cranes its neck closer to take in some delicate sniffs.

Katsumi turns quickly to Cliff, and immediately tilts her head to regard him with the same wide-eyed stare she had before. Sure, superheroes are a thing. Caped crusaders and the like. But this looks like an android, and he's like directly in front of her. That's a strange experience for the girl!

"Oh, uh, it's no big! Herukage gets into all kinds'a trouble," she explains. "Loved you in Iron Giant, by the way."

Cliff Steele has posed:
"Ha. I haven't heard that one for a minute. Should get around to seeing that movie one of these days. I'll keep an eye out in TV Guide."

A gentle stroke along the cheek.

"Yeah, now there's a good kitty. Sorry to ruffle your feathers, Herc. Yes, now aren't you a little Prince of Power?"

With steadfast determination, our hero hobbles his way down the stairs towards the subway platform. Soon, with a little courage and a lot of luck he'll be back in Cloverton to report to his mistress. Though he knows he may not survive, the swashbuckling sweetmeat takes solace in the fact that he'll be reunited with the rest of his batch in the Big Cookie in the Oven Above. All he has to do is make it home...

... And he's summarily stepped on. Squashed but not yet--oops, there's another one.

High heel. Sneaker tread. Snowboot. Stamp stamp stamp.

Can this be... the end?

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
It may yet be. What's that we hear? The distant, haunting melody of a lonely Aramaic woman? That /never/ bodes well in these kinds of movies.

Alas, Katsumi has no idea Captain Confectionary is about to meet his end. No, she's only watching the entertaining interaction between her cat and a robot. He /is/ a robot, isn't he? It's puzzling! "He's greeaat, when his mouth's shut." Of course, the way she means that and the way it might be interpreted are likely two very different things. "So you're, like... a robot. Is that right?," she asks bluntly, still staring a hole through him.

Cliff Steele has posed:
"I sure look it, don't I? Yes, kit-kat, you're a good'un. I knew it. Here comes the scritches!"

Scritches delivered.

"But you can call me Cliff. I'm a person, just... Not much of one anymore."

A little tickle beneath the chin.

"And you're, like, a human? Issat right?"

Our hero lays dazed, unable to escape the onslaught of human traffic. He watches in horror as an enormous hand descends upon him.

"Look, Ma! I found a cookie!"

"Dear God, that's disgusting, Richie. You get rid of that filthy thing immediately!"

"Aww, but Ma!"

"No buts, young man. Give it to me."

The battered biscuit is snatched and cannot help but writhe in response. The concerned matron shouts in surprise, recoiling as if bit by the offensive patisserie, and tosses the convulsing cookie out onto the tracks--just as the train comes rolling into the station.

OH NOOOO!

Ashes to ashes, dough to dough. Look upon my works, ye mighty, etc.

The cookie crumbles.

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
That is, in fact, the way the cookie crumbles.

Katsumi's expression turns more bemused, a slender black eyebrow perking. "Yeah. I'm like a human," she says, playing on his specific wording. In truth, she can't be entirely certain that's what she is still. Human-plus? Metahuman? Magical girl?

"Anyway, I should- wait," she pauses. "Did you say not /much/ of one anymore? Are you a f***ing /cyborg/? Like there's a human brain in there sloshin' around?"

Cliff Steele has posed:
"Ding ding ding. Congrats, kid. I'm the best the Chief could manage back in the 90s. Guess it beats being just plain ol' dead, some days."

With a groan, the rusty old bastard straightens out his back. The cat will have to be satisfied with that.

"What about you? You look pretty clean to be working this corner. Don't you know nothing good ever came out of 42nd Street?"

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
The cat is pleased. His expression certainly does not convey it, but you know, he's a cat. They always look like they're judging you.

"That sounds like there's a story attached. Possibly one involving a gun." She tilts her head, inspecting him. "..or trash compactor."

She's suddenly bumped by a passing pedestrian, earning a startled squeak. The dangling cat's lower half sways, most undignified.

"This isn't exactly the best place to chat, though! So maybe another time, Roboto-san!"

Cliff Steele has posed:
"Maybe so. See you around, cat lady. Stay safe out there."

Well, that was actually kinda fun, the Cliffster thinks to himself as he descends the steps into the depths of the city. Nice pick me up after--

Fuck me.

The gullible golem withdraws his hand from his jacket pocket in disgust, wiping the corroded claw against the back of his jeans. A sticky white stain is all that remains.

Ugh, where'd that come from?

Fin.