"Well that went well."
"Shut the @#$% up, Nigel," Derek growled.
"We got, what, forty of the little mechanical bastards?"
"Nigel, for the love of the Prophet, would you kindly shut your face?"
"Gentlemen, if I could have your attention, please?" the tigermorph at the front of the room asked politely. Behind them, two old model military wolfmorphs stood by the door. It was a bit of an honor, probably, that the Groupmind had felt the need to dig them out of storage to guard three old men, not one of whom were below the age of ninety.
And why was it, Nigel wondered, that every damned one of those mechanical monsters were based off predators anyway? What would have been so bad about anthropomorphic rabbits?
"Now, I'm sure by this point you're aware that we're very disappointed in your behavior. It's a miracle that only one human was harmed in that little bout of anti-socialism. As it was, you destroyed fifty-six morph units and also damaged a considerable amount of property and non-sentient computers."
"Lovely day out, I thought," Nigel said cheerily.
"You may joke, but the Groupmind is taking this incident very seriously. Actions have consequence, gentlemen," the tigermorph said gravely.
"You mean we finally pissed off you sons a bitches enough that you're gonna ice us?" Derek asked, grinning.
"Don't be ridiculous. But we're not going to let you free until we're certain you won't harm anyone."
"So what is it to be?" Ali demanded. "Torture? Brainwashing?"
The tigermorph shook its head slightly, then turned on the projector. On the wall a PowerPoint screen appeared, the words of the title card framed in rainbows. "Gentlemen, I would like to welcome you to this first session of your anger management course. I hope you're prepared to listen and learn."
It was about then that Nigel thought they should have really taken up Ali's suggestion of suicide bombs.
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