All it took was a gentle touch and Dezzie Lynch's office door fell off its hinges, slamming to the floor. Lumin waved away the particulates hanging in the air and set the door against the wall with a cough. The soot covering the inside of the charred hardwood had been carefully scraped away to create the image of an ornate pentagram.
"Jesus, what have you been doing in here?" asked Lumin, stepping inside the office. She suffered an immediate barrage of licks as Dezzie's three-legged Boston terrier, Buttercup, ran up and leapt into her arms. Instantly distracted, the canine jumped out of Lumin's grasp and ran around her in a manic orbit, scattering papers and trash across the barely-visible floor.
"I'm designing a pocket-sized flamethrower," said Dezzie, leaning up from her oversized black leather chair. Her pale face almost seemed to glow within the frame of her long, raven hair. The lacy Victorian widow's garb she wore further enhanced her ghostly pallor.
Lumin wiped off her face and shook her head. "Those aren't allowed by the combat accord. Besides, how is--"
"I was building it on my break. I'm no slacker, Lumin."
"Please don't burn the building down, Dez," said Lumin, stumbling over a pile of melted action figures and shredded junk mail. She pushed some old comic books off a chair in front of Dezzie's desk and plopped down with a sigh. Buttercup sat next to her foot and licked her leg.
Dezzie glared at her boss. "What do you take me for? An amateur?"
"Your flames could set off the sprinklers, ruining months of work," said Lumin. "Ever think about that?"
"Of course I did," said Dezzie, stirring her tea. "Why do you think I disabled the sprinkler system?"
"We installed it for a reason!"
"Hey, it's cool--I'm done anyway. I'll turn them back on this afternoon."
"Do it," said Lumin, readying herself to greet a nervous breakdown. She took note of Dezzie's black thumb and peered over her shoulder at the burnt door. "What's with the pentagram?"
"I'm converting to Satanism. It sounded fun...I'm tired of being a Lutheran."
Lumin looked up at the taxidermied chimera mounted on the office wall. The unholy union of a chicken, snake and rabbit wore a scaled down Victorian-era dress and held a parasol in its claw. "I think you've made the appropriate choice, Lynch."
Buttercup suddenly began barking incessantly at a section of wall that was empty aside from a burnt Slayer poster. "He okay?" asked Lumin.
"Oh, that...I'm pretty sure Buttercup can sense the dark spirit inhabiting these walls. This factory rests on an intersection of ley lines which attract evil at their convergence. It's only a matter of time before we're all--wait, what time is it?"
"Two o'clock," said Lumin.
"Oh, hold on." Dezzie reached in her massive oak desk--another holdover from the factory days--and produced a milkbone. "Never mind. He's just worked up because I was late giving him a treat." Buttercup caught the snack mid-air. "You're late too, by the way."
"Yeah well, I'm a little drunk. Can we get on with this meeting?" asked Lumin, crossing her legs. "What do you have to show me?"
Dezzie pushed her archive of Sassy magazines to the side, knocking over a few of her occult tomes in the process. She produced a stack of oversized technical diagrams. "These will kill the opposing pilot in seconds."
Lumin squeezed her eyes closed. "Dezzie, for the last time--we are not allowed to kill the pilot of the Japanese bot."
"So, a giant-sized, semi automatic shotgun that fires 50 gallon barrels packed with explosive bowling balls is out?"
"Yes."
"Alright." Dezzie crumpled up the first schematic and threw to the floor. Buttercup shredded it immediately. "How about a battering ram the size of a cruise liner that could crumple the Japanese cockpit in--"
"No! The operator's cabin is off limits! If the tournament officials suspect we've targeted it on purpose it's an instant D.Q."
"Fine then." Dezzie wadded up the sheet and tossed it to the floor. "This is a 150 foot titanium staff tipped with a low-grade nuclear warhe--"
"Nope."
Dezzie crumpled up 3 more sheets, not bothering to pitch them. "Cook them in the cockpit with microwaves...no...super-acid jet...no...quantum vibro blade...nah," she mumbled.
Lumin sat up. "Wait Dez, what was that last one?"
"The quantum entanglement phonon vibration blade? It's a powered sword utilizing quantum atomic entanglement to destabilize the edge of its blade. With the structure of the sword's subatomic particles in a constant state of flux, its phonons begin to shed and its electromagnetic properties become unstable; essentially rendering its edge infinitely sharp. I was going to use it to chop their mech driver in half, but no-go I guess."
"Can't you use it to chop off some arms and legs...of the robot, I mean?"
Dezzie nodded. "Oh, yeah, I didn't think about that."
"Get it going!" said Lumin with a smile. "What's the budgetary blow?"
"About 200 million."
Lumin slumped. "That's half our operating costs!"
"You get what you pay for. You have to consider I'm mucking around with theoretical physics here. That shit's not cheap, especially on a limited time frame."
"Alright, just give me your current specs on the blade and I'll get back to you." Lumin grabbed the schematics from Dezzie and sighed. "Anything else?"
"Um, how about a pneumatic cannon that fires a steel mesh sack filled with titanium spheres to knock the other robot on its ass?"
"Bean bag gun? Yeah, alright," said Lumin, "How much?"
"Couple thousand, tops."
"Approved. Get the build team going." Lumin reached down and scratched Buttercup's ear and the dog panted in appreciation.
"Lumin, I was just about to have some mushroom tea. You want some? I get my best ideas in a transcendental state."
"No thanks," said Lumin, tiring of arguments. "I'll get back to you on this blade. Think non-lethally, alright?"
"Will do. Don't succumb to the evil of the can opener factory. Actually, go for it...I'm in league with Satan now and I think he'd approve."
"I'm agnostic, but thanks. Take care, Dez," said Lumin, avoiding the burnt door as she stumbled back into the hallway.