A long wintered night in the Contested Zone.
Her biological membrane shivered as she multiplied through a posse of Virtual Activists, protesting the latest scam by some Euro Data Deviants.
She was late.
She was always late.
If she survived to be a Cortex Crone she'd still have trouble shifting from dormant to active modes.
She sensed some quivering data nearby and scanned a tribe of DNA sluts, her sisters in slime. A rapid alpha exchange and she was back on the lookout for Circuit Boy, a fetishized replicant of the perfect HuMan HeMan, a dangerous technobimbo.
She Self-replicated toward the banks of the Heavy Medal Boys - the Mbs. Minders of her archenemy, Big Daddy Mainframe.
Her aim: to corrupt Big Daddy's data.
His mainframe.
His Hard On.
Oh. suck me off.
Get rendered.
Get real.
Get fucked.
The Contested Zone was pulsing out its hype spots -There's no Place like Zone... Zone is where the data is...
She was angry. She'd spent too long looking for that squirt Circuit Boy. It was rumored that he'd been hanging with his Zoneboys - the Gene Pool Chameleons, a motley crew of genetic cretins. Suddenly she sensed his all too familiar architecture in the Zone. S h e challenged the datascape:
Circuit Boy,
I know you're here. I can sense you.
Show me your algorithms.
Let me corrode your defenses.
Circuit Boy. Come here.
Let me buttfuck your irresistible chrome-plated ass,
honey.
I want you.
Circuit Boy.
I'm waiting.