Are you bored?

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Once upon a time, long ago, in some universe so far away nobody ever bothered to actually measure, there lived a biomechanical being named Metal Oaf.

Metal Oaf had a rather bad life. Between his reputation and how he lived up to it, he couldn't go anywhere without walking into at least one brick wall on the way there and two or three on the way back, with a few prickly bushes in between for good measure. Fortunately, he didn't go anywhere very often; he was too busy either walking into walls on his brick farm or playing video games with his feet while hanging from the ceiling fan.

One day, he was playing Tribes II on X-Box by jumping from button to button in tap shoes when the controller exploded.

"Hmm," Metal Oaf pondered, looking from the debris to his television and back. "Must be the batteries."

At that very moment, the heated batteries splattered, sending acid flying everywhere.

"Definitely the batteries," he decided. "Gotta go get new ones."

Tiptoeing carefully through the bits of metal, he made his way to the door and skipped happily off toward town.

Humming cheerfully, he walked into three trees and a giraffe. Unfortunately, neither the trees nor the giraffe much appreciated that, so he suddenly found himself crashing into a puddle, while the giraffe and trees walked off laughing.

"Trees laugh?" he wondered, pulling twigs out of his joints. He looked around his watery surroundings, shrugged, and pressed a large, flashing blue button on his chest armor. "Activating 'swim' feature..."

Aside from dinnertime, a parade, a sale at Wal-Mart, and an elephant stampede, nothing happened.

Metal Oaf gasped, a truly miraculous feat considering he was underwater. "I forgot! The 'swim' feature isn't waterproof!"

He paused to ponder more thoroughly.

Another parade went by.

"I'll have to make do without it," Metal Oaf decided. He slammed down a red lever sticking out of his toe armor. "Activating 'rocket' feature!"

Both parades paraded back and sailed on a cruise.

The sun shone.

Butter didn’t fly.

Metal Oaf rubbed his masked chin thoughtfully.

"Aha!" he said, thrusting a finger above his head. "Fire doesn't work underwater! What an amazing discovery! I must write it in my little book!"

Unfortunately, he didn't have a little book, so he wrote it on the sole of his foot with a magical icicle instead.

As he was pondering which lever to pull next, an arm thrust itself down, grabbed his hand, and yanked him out to stand next to three Matoran.

"Wii love you!" the Ta-Matoran said, beaming. "I like hot dogs with ketchup!"

Metal Oaf looked down at himself, dismayed. "I'g dshy!"

"He's rusty," translated the Onu-Matoran.

"The prolonged exposure to hydrogen-oxygen must have influenced his intricate problematical speech centers, most likely for the worst, and in all probability they shall remain so for a vastly protracted amount of time," the Ko-Matoran said decisively.

"Cows say moo," the Ta-Matoran added.

Everyone nodded agreement.

"What's your name?" the Onu-Matoran asked Metal Oaf.

"Wgllshnikle," Metal Oaf said.

"Meatloaf!" the Ko-Matoran exclaimed. "Not only an entirely fitting name for such a weighty quantity of protective covering, but an immensely superior name for my most lately invented victuals!" He held up a steaming pan.

"Glsh!" Meatloaf nodded happily.

"Meatloaf it is!" the Onu-Matoran translated.

And then they ate dinner.

The End

Turakii