The Social Experiment Limousine (2)
1001 Words
His attention is diverted to me as planned.
“What?! Who are you? Well, I don't think you're the hypocritical type, so I'll just ignore you.”
“Yeah, but you can't fight what you call lip service with that hypocritical mug of yours! I see it now... you're just a mere limousine, forgotten by time, seeking your own validation by imprisoning those whom you deem as not true to their selves!”
“Grrrrrr!!! You really tick me off with all your empty sermons! You remind me of those preachers who are just in it for the money! Now then, let's see if your strength matches that big mouth of yours!”
“Fine by me. Let's head outside first, for fairness' sake.”
“OK, I'll take up your word, Mr. Big Mouth.”
Me and the limousine monster. On the open-air spot near the hospital.
The place where I've had my first outing as Gjallarhorn.
If it ain't deja vu, that what is?
I then declare to the monster...
“I know you're stronger than me, naturally, but with these...”
I take out the five ladybugs and swallow them all.
“I can take you on without breaking a sweat.”
“Let's see about that, Mr. Big Mouth!”
I concentrate as I gently flail my arms and shout...
“Gjallarhorn... Gjallar-form!”
For the tenth time ever (yes, I'm keeping a mental tally on my number of transformations), I become Gjallarhorn.
With the usual addition of the armor pieces as well as the blazing trumpets.
“I sound the beginning of the end of evil! The Resounding Horn, Gjallarhorn!”
“And I'm the social experiment monster, Limousicko!”
Hmph. He even has the gall to copy my poses?
I bet he can't copy the heroic spirit dwelling within me!
“Alright then. It's on!”
My first priority is to not harm the people trapped inside the monster.
This means I can't inflict any attack on his trunk part, which is located on his lower torso.
This also means no cheap shots this time.
Since Limousicko's head contains the hood and the engine, I figure this should be the spot I should attack all the time.
And thus, I waste no time doing some little jumps, which are then followed by some pouncing chop attacks towards his head.
“Argh! You are literally giving me headaches! Now to pay you back in full!”
He retaliates by summoning wheels from his hands, which all hit me and break my pouncing momentum.
“Now to make sure you can't break free at all!”
As I try to rise from from his retaliatory attack, I find my body being bound by several tires that all wrap my body.
I can't move my limbs freely!
“Ghahahahaha!!! Now all that's left is to imprison you in this trunk and join the band of hypocrites there!”
No! I can't!
I know I must find a way to break free of those tire traps!
From that determination, something awakens within me.
I remember the time when I devised my Vacuum Fang attack as a response to my initial lack of aerial and anti-aerial attacks.
I also remember the time when I used multiple Vacuum Fangs to take down the gun-toting cultists.
With these memories, I can feel a different kind of aura.
A wind-elemental one, to be exact.
I don't know if this awakening has something to do with my armor, but I know for sure that I'm devising new attacks by adapting to certain combat conditions.
And thus, I amplify my wind aura until it engulfs my body...
...and I finally break free of Limousicko's tire traps.
“No way! You can't just break out of my trap that easily!”
Still imbued with the wind aura, I ready my hands for a wind variant of the Crucis Chop.
“Crucis Chop: Hayate (Gale)!”
With a blistering speed, the wind-elemental cross approaches the limousine monster's head, hitting it with sharp gusts until it slowly disintegrates him.
“I'm not getting any likes with this! NOOOOOOOO!!!”
With his final words, he finally explodes into nothing but bits and pieces of a car bound for the scrapheap.
And naturally, the people who were imprisoned now return, all trying to recover from their time in the pocket dimension.
Hope they've learned a lesson they'll never forget, as I kindly advise them to reduce their dependence on social media as I guide them back to where they belong before this entire shebang happened.
The next day...
Social media is replete with apologies from the people who were trapped by Limousicko, whether with words or with videos.
While the vocabularies are different, the context is all the same: They are apologizing, stating they've lost themselves in search of vainglorious likes and shares and other metrics of social media validation.
They also apologize for advocating causes that are the polar opposites of whet they actually do in their own daily lives – for example, the case of the father advocating for electric vehicles when he owns nothing but gas-powered ones.
To keep himself true to his word, the father willingly has his vehicles converted into electric ones, thanks to a small company in Rain Marginal that does just that.
OK, since I have no tasks to do today, I'll just have to read and watch as much apology posts and videos as much as possible.
And give them my heartfelt likes and shares.
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Monster of the Week Information
Name: Limousicko
Height: 213.36 cm (7')
Weight: 399.9 kg (881.63 lb)
Monster Type: Limousine-type social experiment prankster monster
A monster created from a discarded limousine, and then infused with the concept of the hypocrisy of caring for the less fortunate while being all haughty. He simply exploited the gullibility of some people pretending to do good deeds just to earn imaginary “brownie points” instead of simply inducing the spirit of charity and good will. The most prominent feature of Limousicko was trapping his victims inside a pocket dimension that lies within his body. In combat, he could summon wheels as throwing weapons and used them as traps as well. His actions led to the disappearance of some social media influencers who were trapped inside the limousine monster, as well as other people the monster deemed as hypocritical in their actions, which then caught Gjallarhorn's attention. After ensuring that he didn't injure the victims trapped inside the monster while combating him, Gjallarhorn finally finished him with a wind-elemental version of the Crucis Chop.
- Writer
