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SOLID SNAKE, COME ON DOWN!

[Today there is a new Liquid in the nexus. Who is arguably more than a little brain damaged.]

[It took him a long few minutes before he realized this wasn't Shadow Moses. And he did not, in fact, appreciate this.]

[enjoy your new Novelquid, FM.]

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Huh. I'm just lucky, I guess.

Why do you need to defeat him to prove yourself superior?

Because!

I was given Father's flawed inferior genes while he got all the superior ones! Only by defeating him in combat can I take my rightful place and establish Outer Heaven!

... [Same old story, then.] That's bullshit.

It most certainly is not!

Yes it is. What's this Outer Heaven thing, anyway?

It's a nation of soldiers doing what soldiers are meant to do.

...defending their country?

Fighting, you fool. Combat is what we live for! What I was created for!

It's not what I live for. What do you mean, created?

[It is so hard not to smirk at the man's stupid. HOW DOES IT FEEL NOW, NOVELQUID? TO BE FOOLED BY A CRAPPY DISGUISE?]

Then you're hardly a soldier at all.

And I mean created. Formed. Brought. Into. Existence.

Ouch. That's cruel.

So... born, then. Long line of soldiers in the family or something?

Brrrrrother and I are the sons of the man regarded as the greatest soldier ever to live!

[A snort.]

Sure, kid. You're the son of Alexander the Great, huh?

[He's inwardly cracking up a little.]

...You're an imbecile, aren't you?

[An irritated grunt.]

I'm not the one standing in the hallway shouting about how you want a solid snake. That could be miscontrued.

...

[This was a problem. And how, you might ask, did Liquid deal with problems?]

[He punched them.]

[WHACK]

[Like that.]

[Except this problem simply punches back. Hard.]

What, unhappy because you made it sound like your erection won't go down?

[THE PROBLEM ISN'T GOING AWAY WITH PUNCHING]

[PUNCH IT HARDER]

[Yeah, I hope you enjoy 180cm of soldier suddenly flinging himself at you and punching the shit out of you.]

[FFFFFF]

[OBVIOUSLY MORE FACE PUNCHING WILL SOLVE THIS?]

[HEY HEY. DO THESE PUNCHES FEEL FAMILIAR?]

[BECAUSE HE'S JUST PUNCHING THE HELL OUT OF YOU FOR EVERY BLOW YOU LAND ON HIM.]

[YOU MORON.]

[Owowowow oh god.]

[Hang on, he's just gonna take a power nap here.]

...hnnn. You're weaker than your alternates.

[He recovers and relights his fallen cigarette, taking a drag of it as he pulls the unconscious Liquid to a nearby locker and stuffs him inside. As an afterthought, he jams it shut and leans against it.]

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