Rum and Monkey: The Colossal Death Robot Test

What's your idea of the perfect job?

Killing puny humans.

Fighting evil.

Fighting.

Fighting in a massive way.

Dishing out my own brand of vigilante justice.

Job? I serve no-one but myself.

How would you ideally make an entrance to a party?

Descending through the roof on a jetpack, and then gunning down anyone who survives the exhaust flames.

Smashing through the wall in a bust-up Chevrolet, shooting the roof off and clambering out in a jerky fashion.

Striding through the door with terrifying purpose, murdering people who aren't even in the way, and then making a witty comment.

Crushing the entire venue under my foot while attempting to find it.

Swagger in and offer hearty greetings.

What entrance? I'd already be there, waiting in the shadows by the keg.

What is your natural urge in most social situations?

Search for traces of wrongdoing, then do as above.

Sweep minigun in 180 degree arc, with grim expression.

Protect the innocent.

Show off all my moving parts.

Rumble menacingly until everyone backs off.

What is your reaction when you get hurt?

Appear to die, and then leap to your feet with a surge of energy and fight with the strength of a thousand men.

Hurt? What is this "pain" you speak of?

Laugh.

BZZZTTT....ERROR.....KILLL...BZZZ

Absorb the energy and gun down everything in sight.

What do you usually say upon waking up in the morning?

"I shall persecute the weak."

I emanate a threatening growling sound.

"Why am I so huge?"

"Must....have....WD-40"

- Sound of minigun firing -

Do you have enemies?

Never by choice.

More than there are stars in the sky, mortal.

A select few, and they're damn good at what they do.

All that is good and pure.

Ah... easy come, easy go. Sure, why not? Hey, why don't I kill those passers by!

How do you deal with your enemies?

Retro-fitted miniguns for arms, my friend!

Epic swords, all the way.

Token negotiations, then mortal combat.

I attack them with guns, and try to involve as many planets as possible.

I fly around on a jet pack and then mash them stylistically.

How do you relax?

I hibernate for a thousand years.

I sit in a fire.

I work out.

I drink.

Relaxation is for the weak.

What's your chosen tipple?

Oil.

The blood of nations.

A nice dry vermouth.

Superheated plasma.

Beer.

Can you be destroyed with conventional weapons?

No.

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Which Colossal Death Robot Are You?