“You’re going to pilot this.”
You look up and up and yet still farther up at the machine towering over you. “Pilot…” You never thought you’d be the type to stammer, but if stammering was ever called for, well, now was the time.
You look back up at the machine over you. It has a humanoid form, but that only makes it more terrifying. Like an angry, horned, winged giant. That some lady with a clipboard wants you to climb into.
“Are you ready?” Clipboard asks.
Of course the fuck not! But instead you feel yourself nodding. Because some small piece of your brain finds this all unbearably cool.
“Great,” Cliboard says. “Then put this on.”
The plastic outfit she holds out to you wouldn’t cover a child half your size, let alone a full grown adult.
“I have to wear that,” you point at the plastic lingerie, “to pilot that?” you point at the leering giant.
“Get to it, recruit!”