Jet Six Feet

"I saw it as a kid. It was on Mystery Science Theater 3000, you know, that show where they riff on awful movies? But I didn't think the movie was awful. I really liked the robot in it. Jet Jaguar, that was his name. He was a hero of mankind. A scientist made him to help people out. He was a good guy, Gloria, a hero. I wanted to be a hero. To be someone... larger than life. You see, Jet Jaguar wasn't always massive. Before he was huge, he was..."

Oscar flexed both of his arms downward, like a pose a pro wrestler might make. He strained and a vein bulged on his forehead. On the TV, something happened to Jet Jaguar. He shrank. The giant robot grew smaller, and smaller, and smaller, until he vanished entirely from the camera's frame.

Oscar started to walk forward again. Gloria aimed at him and shouted something like "Get back" or "Stop" but her next thought was: Wait, which side of the Krispy Kreme was Jet Jaguar—

The wall directly behind her burst open. Plaster cascaded and a decent chunk bounced against her head. She whirled around and Jet Jaguar stood there, now only six feet tall, and before she could react he bowed forward Japanese-style and his metal conehead pounded her in the face. A ribbon of blood whirled out her nose as she staggered back—into Oscar's arms.

- Voeltz Finals