South Park 64 Part 5 - Mind Games

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*THUMP*

Stan groans as the time portal spits him out onto the bed of his own personal lab. The one in his timeline, anyway.

Thousands upon thousands of Dragon Bots with several dozen High-Ends leading them, several hundred Time Criminals, five shadowized Time Terrors, two Lotgral, and the Fallen Dragonborn himself.

Yeah, he was absolutely fucking screwed during this latest engagement. If his Trapper Keeper had opened that time portal beneath his broken body even half a second later, then the Fallen Dragonborn would've gotten there first and rammed into him like a fucking bull.

He was even forced to use Trapper Keeper to absorb a few people in order to survive. That and plenty of deactivated Dragon Bots.

The people he managed to absorb has some decent shielding and regenerative abilities that helped keep him alive (barely), but that doesn't make him any less okay with the very idea of absorption.

That and these other acts of desperation he's had to resort to recently from adding coats of poison and acid to his toolset for more damage (he needs to thank his Tolkien/Tupperware for those later) and pain (it distracted his enemies, right?) to completely ignoring the very thought of taking prisoners (being numb to death around him after so long doesn't mean he likes it, right? But heroes aren't supposed to KILL!) really aren't helping him with his own self-worth.

It's going completely against what he stands for. It's kicking his fundamentalism square in the balls. It's taking what doesn't belong to him, people's powers and lives.

It's awakening a long-dormant desire in his Trapper Keeper.

Today could certainly be going better...


Almost immediately, his two newest assistants were on him. Two floating metal droids, black orbs around the size of basketballs, with dozens of small robotic claws that ended in everything from scalpels to knives to scissors to bone saws to syringes, screwdrivers, welders, and vacuum tubes.

They were another present from the love of his life. They had watched the original Star Wars trilogy together recently (to help get his mind off of his multiverse-ending fuckup) and she got some inspiration from the torture droids (yes, he sees the irony).

He'll have to thank his timeline's Wendy again later for these.


His girlfriend's gifts buzzed all around him, scanning him and immediately getting to work on fixing the burnt, twisted, mangled, broken, and bloodied Exalted Agent.

They peeled off burnt cloth (his outfit bad been mostly black, sure, but it was just fucking char at this point!), hooked him up to several blood packs, and gave him a quick numbing shot before working in tandem with his Trapper Keeper to precisely cut out bits of metal and other debris that had melted into his body.

The charred remains of his gear slowly dropped into a pile of rubble at his feet, until he wore nothing but his visible annoyance.

One droid went towards the new opening on his spine, assisting his Trapper Keeper with fixing, replacing, and/or fueling some cybernetic parts of his while the other stabbed him with a shot of vitamins, a small dose of adrenaline, and unhooked the blood tubes going into him.

The openings throughout his body closed and the droids sprayed him down with a water hose before flying off. Several seconds later, Toolshed's regeneration abilities died down and he looked as good as new.

It was marvelous just how effective superpowers could be when treated like a science instead of simply magic bullshit and given proper support.

One of the droids soon came back with a bundle of clothes balanced on its head which Toolshed quickly threw on and marched into another room of his personal lab. The damage was all fixed up, but he needed a quick restock on energy if he wanted to get back out there.

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