Golden Guys and Bears

   Note from Owen Tucker:  Remember that disclaimer from last time?  About the violence and all that good junk?  You did?  Oh good.  Now I don’t have to repeat myself and can get right down to business.

   “Hey, that’s not nice!” I yelled down the stairs. “My foot is very relevant.”
   “Obliteration commencing.”
   With that, the sound of marching feet filled the air. Dan tugged on my arm. 
   “What is happening?” he asked.
    I shrugged. “I really ain’t got a clue.  Somebody wants to obliterate some stuff, though.”
   The marching got closer.  I looked down the stairs and saw what was causing it.  It was an army of robotic men.  Golden, robotic men.  That had to be the weirdest color choice. 
   I raised my hand that had Dave on it. “All right, fellows, you’d all best stop, right there, or it won’t be pretty.”
   One of the robots who appeared to be in the lead pointed to my hand. “Target acquired.”
   “What?  My hand?  What do you want with my hand?”
   “Hand, irrelevant.  The Sword, relevant.”
   “What the heck is the Sword?”
   Hmphhphfyupf!
   “Okay fine.  Poncho, let Dave talk.”
   Ah.  Now, for your education, I am the Sword.
   “No.  You’re a ring.”
   Don’t you remember anything?  When you found me, I was a sword.  Because that is how I am known.
   “Okay, sure.  You’re a sword.  Now will you please be helpful and blast these guys?”
   I can’t.  They are—
   “I don’t want to hear your lame excuses right now!  We’re in trouble.  So be quite and FIRE!”
   A wall of flame burst forth from my hand and swept down the stairs, engulfing the gold robots, obscuring them from view.  When the smoke cleared, though, they were still marching up to us, without a single singe on them. 
   “What just happened?”
   What I was trying to tell you.  Gold is impervious to magic.
   “Well that’s just brilliant.”
    The golden robots were getting closer.  I started backing up.
   “Well,” I said. “Anyone got any bright ideas?”
   “Just this one,” Ben replied.
   He lumbered forward and threw himself down the stairs.  He rolled down, smashing into the robots like a bowling ball, knocking them every which way.
   “Strike!” I yelled.
   Then he reached the bottom of the stairs and his momentum failed.  He got up and started swinging his paws every which way, but the robots seemed endless.  They simply engulfed him, then carried on their march back up the stairs.
   “Benjamin!”
   There was no answer.  Nothing but the sound of marching.
   “Coom on, laddie,” Wilfred said in my ear. “We ‘ave tae go.  Ben’s geven us our chance.”
   A tear leaked out of my ear as I turned away.
   “This isn’t over!” I yelled over my shoulder.
   I ran down the hallway, the kids and Dan followed right behind me.  I picked a random door, opened it, and went in.  Dan was the last one in, and he shut the door behind him with a bang.  Only then did I take a good look around, and realize that this might not have been the best door.
   We were in the middle of a huge, far as the eye could see, desert.