"Hey, you in the red shirt, STOP!"
what the fuck was that?
"You are being recorded. If you do not leave the area, dire consequences could result. Halt."
Blanchard looked around and finally saw it:
a Digatroid, fully automated and armed to the teeth, perched on the rooftop above him.
He slipped on his cloak and went about his business.
"this is your final warning. You are advised to..."
In an instant, Blanchard bolted for the gate.
The Digatroid had fired a warning blast at Blanchard's feet. Nonplussed, he quickly jumped up and scaled the gate, up over the barbed wire and into the compound running.
A second, more powerful blast blew the can of gold spraypaint out of his left hand. He looked down and noticed he'd lost more than a can of spraypaint, his arm severed at the elbow.
what the fuck is that thing packing? I gotta get outta here before I bleed to death...
In a final act of defiance, Blanchard lobbed a bug-bomb at the metallic eye-beast, laughing as it crackled and fizzled and smoked. No time to tag anything; he needed to get back home...