You may think at first that this creation has nothing to do with the title, "I'm Late", but you'll see. ;-D This is my second contest entry ever, so constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. Boy, soon I will have to make a contest entries folder...
About this creation
2010 MocOlympics! Group Home
That's the link to the MocOlympics Homepage.
The following events occured shortly after the battle of Harcel (Pronounced Harsel).
The Rebels fought hard, but couldn't stand up against the swarms of Mangolorin soldiers, and eventually they were forced to surrender. Harcel, a major port, was lost to Mangolor.
Hunter: Search for any survivors.
Soldier: Yes, sir!
Hunter: *Sniffs* There are rebels hiding somewhere nearby.
Hunter: They must have run away.
Captain: Oh, great.
People looking for survivors. They're all from Mangolor, though. *Sighs* *Sarcastically* Just what we needed.
OrangeHair: What is it, captain?
Captain: Mangolorin search party. Stay out of their way, or we're doomed.
Captain: Poor Johnny, stuck his head out from behind this rock and got shredded because of those blasted Mangolorin guns.
Breakjaw: Sir, I found a dead body. They have to be around here somewhere. *Kicks* Get out of my way, rebel.
Breakjaw: Hello, there!
Breakjaw: Huh? Oh, nevermind.
BrownHair: Oh, boy, that was too close.
Soldier: This guy was killed recently, so they must be nearby. Wait, what's that rumbling noise?
Hunter: What the-Everyone, to the pit, and hurry!
OrangeHair: Hey, look, they're gone! We win! Wait, what's that rumbling sound?
BrownHair: What do you see?
OrangeHair: HOLY CRAP! Agh! *Thud*
Captain: how far did he fall?
BrownHair: Six feet.
Captain: Oh, that's not too bad.
Driver: Hey, Steampunk. Are you sure we had to put on so many leaves? I don't think anyone is here. Either that or they're scared of us.
Steampunk: Robert, shut up and focus on your job!
Robert: Fine, fine. Wait, what's that?
Soldier: What do you see, boss?
Hunter: Nothing yet.
Hunter: Whoa, actually I see a big tank.
Mechanic: Robert! Over here.
BrownHair: Hey, are you okay?!
Mechanic: Sorry, guys. I was delayed.
The hatch closes.
Breakjaw: Ha! Who do you think you are? I will show you the power of Breakjaw!
Robert: Oh, crap, not another one.
Breakjaw: I'm going to take that big hunk of rusted metal from you!
Robert: Hmm...Let's see...Aha! There's the auto-fire button! Now I can sit back and relax while the tank fires by itself.
Breakjaw: Agh! *Thud*
Robot: UNIT 463 FIRING SEQUENCE ACTIVATED.
Robert: Seriously? Another one?! This is getting boring.
Tank: Auto-fire deactivated.
Robert: What?! Turn back on! *Pushes button*
Tank: Auto-fire has 24 hour cool down.
Robert: WHAT?! Stupid tank! Oh, wait, what's this? *Pushes button*
Tank: Target locked.
Robert: Much better.
Robot: FIRING IN THREE TWO O--UNIT 463 LOCKED.
Hunter: Crap. Count on an idiot with a super weapon to ruin our plans. Wait, what's that?
Steampunk: Robert, have you figured out how to fire the tank yet?
Robert: Uh, no...
Random Dude: Muahahaha! I attack with my Pietronovotskeenemocraniatic Roller!
Random Dude*: Whoa, I can't believe I actually remembered this thing's name. Let me see, Pietronovotskee-kee-ugh, whatever! Anyway, your old tank is going down!
* Yes, I know that that's the mechanic minifigure inside the Pietronovotskeenemocraniatic Roller, but I got lazy and didn't put a different guy inside.
Robert: Crap! Okay, okay, black button...Steampunk, are you sure about this?
Steampunk (He's underneath the turret): Why wouldn't I be?
Robert: Because it's labeled "Self-destruct Sequence".
Steampunk: No, not that button you dummy! The one with red crosshairs painted on it!
Robert: Oh! That one! Oops! Anyway, here goes! *Presses Button*
Tank: Target Locked.
Random Dude: Uh, oh. Crap, it's locked!
Tank: Firing sequence activated.
Random Dude: Ooh...
Robert: Ha! Take that! EAT FIRE!
Hunter: Aw, crap. Whatever. *Jumps*
Robert: Uh, Steampunk? There's someone walking on the roof.
Robert: Fine, fine. Let's shoot that guy.
Hunter: Ah, so that's where the pilot is. Let's give him a hearty snack of lead.
Hunter: Wait, something's fishy...OH, CRAP!
BrownHair: What happened?
OrangeHair: The lunatic inside the tank almost blew himself up.
OrangeHair: Ooh, nasty. The saw on the tank just amputated the left arm of one of our fellow rebels.
BrownHair: *Sarcastically* That's good to know!
Robert: Where'd that black armored guy go?
Steampunk: *Yawns* Wait. Robert, what's the time?
Robert: It's about-
Robert: Hot! HOt! HOT! Uh, yeah, so Steampunk, it's 3:30 P.M.
Steampunk: Do you know why I told you to come this way? Because it's the shortcut! If you had just scared everyone away and just continued to the meeting, I wouldn't be late by half an hour!
Robert: Oops, sorry, boss...
Steampunk: DON'T SAY SORRY! JUST GET THE TANK MOVING! Can't you see that I'm very late now?
Robert: Okay, okay. *Revs Engine*
A week later...
Civilian: I wonder what happened here...Wait, where's Harcel?
Whew, that was my longest M.O.C. yet. 63 pictures!
Credit to Drew the Sk8ter for the desigh of the clips on the guns.
Credit to Aiden Faulconer for the idea of putting trans-cones on the tips of guns to show them "firing".
Many of these pictures were slightly blurry or very blurry, as I was in a hurry, and sometimes the camera absolutely refused to take good pictures.
Here's a summary of Robert and Steampunk to clarify the story:
Steampunk, the creator of the "Steampunk" Tank, was originally named Mark, but with the creation of his tank that ran on steam he was nicknamed Steampunk. His chauffeur, Robert, was told to use the "shortcut" through Harcel to reach the Annual Inventor's Meeting, but met a Mangolorin search party and several hostile vehicles, delaying their arrival by thirty minutes. The meeting, was located on the other side of Harcel, in the city of Pietronome (Pronounced Peeyechruhnohm).
The bird's view on ALL the story was highly unusual and the story difficult to follow (mostly the part where you started bouncing back to the hole each line). The rest of the build was quite basic. The best feature here was the robot with custom arms. 3 points.