The ZORG were going crazy. They sang and they danced. They bounced and they flew. They chanted and the celebrated. The glow their metal bodies radiated flashed different colors. They all even wore funny little pointed hats.
It was a birthday party, after all.
The Almighty Z sat at her throne, smiling at the masses of jubilant robots. She did not wear a funny paper hat atop her usual mass of blonde curls, but instead, her own delicately woven black wire crown, inlaid with glimmering purple stones. It was her birthday, after all.
Long tables were piled high with every sugary and or caffeinated product imaginable, as the ZORG subsist on caffeine and sugar. Shiny particles in the grey stone walls caught light and made the whole room shine. Music pulsed through the air, emanating from the robots’ own speakers while fireworks exploded into the air of the high-ceilinged room.
Eventually, the smiling queen stood and silence fell, all ZORG facing their leader. Not one for speeches, the Almighty Z spoke quickly and succinctly.
“The ZORG will prevail,” she said, holding her scepter in hand. It was twisted of the same wire and amethyst as her crown.
The ZORG agreed with a hearty “GAZUMPH!”
“but, in the meantime,” the Almighty Z continued, “Let’s have some fun!” She touched her scepter to the ground, and a large explosion rained confetti down on the cheering Gazumphanians. The music began again, and the crowd went wild.
‘Almighty Z?’ ZOK’s message came telepathically to avoid yelling over the din of the party.
‘New intelligence has come in about the Great Alliance. It appears they are planning an attack.’
‘Can it wait until morning? I’d hate to cut the festivities short.’
‘Data dictates there are approximately two days before their plans begin.’
‘Thank you, ZOK.’
The Almighty Z sat back in her throne and smirked. ‘An attack?’ she thought to herself, ‘This ought to be fun.’