[center][img=http://baku-panda.org/images/UDC_Gizmo.png][/center]
The mechanical wings flared out, leveling the small boy in the air as he prepared to dive into a canyon-like divide between two walls. Already, a number of concussion grenade tipped [b]RPGs[/b] were shooting up from weapon mount points along the smooth, metal walls below. [i]Just like Beggar's Canyon back home[/i], the bald-headed youth thought, dropping a pair of green goggles down over his eyes before he made the suicide run. Reaching into the pockets of the mechanics coveralls he wore, the boy produced two disc-like objects, which proceeded to unravel themselves into multiple plates, each resonating with a different frequency or magnetic signature.

The explosion was deafening, drowning out the gleeful shout as the child's short frame shot from out of the debris cloud as he dived from out of the air and into the confined space of the canyon. Columns shot up from out of the floor and the walls, creating an obstacle course that required the youth to maneuver over and under objects with sparse seconds with which to calculate the margins of error. Point defense cannons were popping up next, as the boy tapped a [i]Playstation[/i] like controller on the wrist of his suit. Bomblets detached themselves from the exo-skeletal wings, streaking through the air to take out the anti-personnel weapons.

This was a race, but he was competing against himself. Trying to improve his time and performance over the last time he'd run this course. That made it a challenge, and Gizmo liked challenges. He didn't get enough of them, and with several days to kill between now and their [i]field trip[/i] to Jersey... Gizmo needed something to keep himself occupied. 

As the boy neared the end of the canyon, the walls and the floor shot columns out in unison, intertwining to form a barrier. It had stopped him last time. But not [i]this time[/i]. Pressing a button on the front of his vest, the boy's harness detached, continuing to sail on as the bald-headed youth tumbled to the ground. He didn't have the finesse of Jinx. He hit the ground hard, rolling with a grunt as he came up sore and painful. But as he looked up, the jetpack collided with the wall, its warhead arming and sending chunks of the twisted, scorched debris showering the canyon. Bracing himself, the youth held up a hand to shield his face as the flaming bits of wreckage rained down like hail around him. As the smoke began to clear, the youth lowered his arm and grinned wickedly at the sight of the passage blasted straight through the wall.

"Scorch me, baby!" the youth uttered, breaking into a run as he made for the exit. Leaping up, the youth gingerly watched his feet as the industrial-quality soles came down on sharpened points of broken and smoldering metal. Picking his way through the tunnel he'd blasted, the young Gizmo dropped down to the floor on the opposite side. He dropped to a three-point crouch, flipping the goggles back up on the top of his head as he stood to face the final challenge between himself and the finish line.

Mammoth stood between them, the giant teen pounding a fist into his palm and grinning as though giving testament to what he planned for Gizmo.

"Aw, [i]crud[/i]," the boy muttered to himself, propping back to his feet. In a blur of motion, his right hand ducked into a cargo pocket on his thigh, whipping an object through the air toward the lumbering oaf of a teenager. "End of the line, snothead!" the eccentric technopath shouted defiantly.

Unfazed, Mammoth merely caught to object in one hand, closing his fist around it as though ready to crush it as he turned his palm toward his face to see what it was. The teen was perplexed for a moment, then held the object out as he glared at the boy. It was an old Motorola flip phone. "Want me to call your [i]mommy[/i] for you?" the giant boomed.

The familiar Motorola ring tone heralded an explosion, as the battery overloaded and broke open the packet of sand and salt peter that had been stashed inside. What happened when those came together with the internal metals of the phone components was nothing short of Fourth of July beautiful. "[b][i]Science[/i][/b], mothercruncher," Gizmo shouted in triumph as Mammoth hit the floor, unconscious. "Can you hear me now?"