------------------ traffick boss is held deep in a secret military lair of runaway powersuits built of concrete and marshmallows and pictures of cigars
thousands of feet under the earth, accessible only with laser mining equipment and holographic lock protocols two powersuits are sitting on top of traffick boss while singing nursery rhymes about "their bloated carcasses drifiting into a beautiful sea of victory" while playing go-fish over his body, holding all the cards upside down others are practicing sideways rapelling, or precision laser target practice shooting down nanites with other nanites at high speed, or trying to figure out how to get a pile of stuffed teddy bears to self-assemble, or working hard to stop the inflow of a waylaid underground river by shear force of flexing metallic chest muscles and quoting movie actors
