“I'm just singing in the rain.”
If you ever feel bad, try skin lotion, you then might feel good! Anyway onto the flash fiction!
The Mechanical Colossus
Exhaust shot from twelve different pipes. The monster of a robot needed three massive engines just to operate its legs. Sixty foot? That would be a good guess of its size, though a bystander would likely be crushed by the monster of a machine's feet before they could pinpoint anything exact. The feet consisted of blocks of steel covered in long claws and tank treads. The legs appeared serpentine, made of some strange alloy that could bend and flex yet support the weight of the construct.
The body's shape held no symmetry or normal shape. An artist would vomit at the sight of such an ugly polygon with hundreds of sides and random looking angles. Yet those angles served their purpose as out of them positioned in some sort of organized chaos various arms, pipes, cameras, weapons, sensors, speakers and devices of all kinds popped out. Carefully positioned for some kind of optimized functionality, at least in the eyes of the builder of the machine.
The head served as an entry way as the cockpit was deep in the belly of the beast and the sensors and cameras covered its body. The head was covered in two things: spikes and the door.
The robot stomped around the backyard of its owner's house. While in the cockpit the owner muttered to himself, “Normally I save this for my evil schemes or world domination plots. But if this doesn't scare away that loud, obnoxious woodpecker I don't know what will.”