Killer Robots Satire: Please Find this Person So We Can Hire Them
Saturday, November 12th, 2011So, after we did our little robot shindig on television a while back, we caught the attention of all kinds of people – rabid robot loving kids, Concerned Mothers, our insurance company (“Ma’am, this is *not* a competitive table setting competition.”) – and among the hordes emerged this article.
This is a written, blow by blow accounting and evisceration of the Killer Robots show. It’s brutal. It’s bitchy. It’s sarcastic and it probably could have used one or two things like “fact checking” and “research” and “getting off the couch once in a while”.
This of course means that it’s one of the funniest things we have ever read, hands down, whether it’s about us or not.
Perhaps the biggest letdown of this whole event is the fact that the difference between this arena and a Wal-Mart parking lot is the placement of the lines painted on the floor (and the lack of dirty diapers in the arena). What happened to the Pulverizers? What happened to the Spike Strip? Hell, there’s not even the famed Kill Saws! And really “Kill Saw” probably has a trademark on it but I mean the RoboGames people couldn’t come up with a second-best knock-off like “Discs of Inconvenience” or something?
We’re actually going ‘Disc Of Inconvenience” shopping right now.
I will say that my shiftless largely humor-free reprobate misanthrope of a partner, Mister Robotics, spent last night laughing out loud for well over an hour. This has not happened in about two years.
From the start of the show, after the weird opening montage of people screaming at robots and cowering in fear and shock, Grant Imahara introduces us all to the sport in an incredibly brief run-down that demonstrates that virtually nothing has changed in the sport since the days of BattleBots. Well, except for the addition of flamethrowers. And Grant’s teeth. Okay, maybe that was rude of me but seriously if you Google “grant imahara” one of the suggested searches is “grant imahara’s teeth”. Don’t blame me for being a racist douchebag, blame Google.
So Go here and Read This, laugh your ass off, and then tell him to call us. Seriously.
*An Addendum: I’ll have you know we do *not* play bingo in the arena, sir. It’s Keno the old folks are into. Sheesh.





















