AUTHOR'S NOTE: Forgive the lousy title. I wanted to title this something that wouldn't give away the plot (not as easy as it sounds). As always, the Impossibles and Big D belong to Hanna-Barbera. Their real names, however, belong to me, since they never gave us that information in the cartoon. Their family situations also belong to me as well, and all other characters along the way of this story also belong to me.
It was a typical Friday evening in the city of Megatropolis. Big D was sitting at his desk working on some paperwork, when there was a knock on the door.
"Come in," he said.
"Hi, chief," his secretary, and granddaughter, Phyllis said, coming into the room with the agency's head mechanic, Mike Rogers.
"Just checkin' out, boss," Mike said.
"Fine," Big D said. "I assume you two are going out again tonight."
"Yes, chief," Phyllis said, rolling her eyes a bit. Big D was always a bit protective about Phyllis when it concerned dating.
"We're goin' to the drive in," Mike said.
"Not to steam up the windows, I hope," Big D said.
"No, you can't achieve that in Phyllis's car, boss," Mike said. "The top's stuck in the down position and I can't for the life of me figure out how to get it back up."
"That's very strange, isn't it?" Big D responded.
"It's a mystery, all right," Phyllis said, glaring at the chief. She knew darn well why the top of her convertible was stuck. The chief had tampered with it a month after she bought it, to ensure there would be no steaming up the windows.
"Working late?" Phyllis asked, just to change the subject.
"Yes, I need to go through some paperwork over a case that was just wrapped up moments ago," Big D said. "I figure I just get it done now, instead of putting it off. And don't you two get any bright ideas over going up to Make-Out Point just because I won't be home until later."
"Just out of sheer curiosity, chief," Mike said. "If you found out we did go to Make-Out Point . . . . . . what would you do?"
"I'd fire you, Rogers," Big D said, not bothering to look up from his paperwork.
"Oh," Mike said, nodding.
"Out of a cannon, yet," Big D said again.
"Gotcha, chief!" Mike shouted. "I'll meet you in the garage, Phyl."
"Yeah, okay," Phyllis said, and Mike retreated. Once he was gone, Phyllis turned to Big D and let out a frustrated groan.
"Do you always have to give whoever I'm dating such a hard time, Big D?" she asked.
"It's part of my job, my dear," Big D said, nonchalantly.
"I thought you liked Mike."
"I do. He's lasted much longer than most your other boyfriends have."
"He's known you longer than most of my other boyfriends. He's worked here three years before we started dating."
"Well, in any case, enjoy the movie, and remember what I said about Make-Out Point. I know the way the mind of a young man works. I was in the same position myself once."
"Okay, chief."
"And I'm dead serious about firing him out of a cannon if I have to, young lady!"
"Good night, chief."
Phyllis rolled her eyes, and left her grandfather's office, wishing that just once, he'd lighten up about her dating. After all, she was twenty-one years old. But, then again, she could understand why Big D was so overprotective in that regard, considering she was practically raised by him, and Big D still thought of her as his "little girl."
About an hour later, Big D was finished with the paperwork, and he locked it up in the filing cabinet in the outer office. He normally would have given them to Phyllis to do that, but since she was out on a date, he had to do it himself. Once the files were in the cabinet, he went back to his office to get his things and leave, when his phone rang.
"Who would be calling now?" he asked, as he picked up the phone. "Big D here."
"I'm in desperate need of your help, Big D," a voice on the other end of the phone said. "Meet me at the docks as soon as you can. I'll explain more there. Please come immediately!"
"Who is this?" Big D asked.
"I'll explain once you get here," the voice said. "I can't talk now. Just hurry!"
Before Big D could say another word, the line went dead. Big D hung up and sighed. In his experience, he knew mysterious phone calls meant nothing but trouble, but he also knew he had to investigate this, anyway.
Big D drove down to the docks, but he didn't see anyone. He climbed out of his car, and looked around for any sign of life at all. The place was practically deserted.
"This is all very peculiar," he said. "If this is nothing more than a practical joke, I'll . . . . ."
"Psst!" a voice hissed. "Psst! Hey, buddy! Over here! In the shack!"
Big D turned, and saw a shack nearby, and a figure standing in the doorway. He couldn't make out his face. Slowly, he approached the figure.
"Yeah, that's it," the figure said. "Come here."
"I assume you're the person who called earlier?" Big D asked.
"Yeah, that's right," the figure said. "You the chief of the Secret Security Headquarters?"
"I am," Big D answered. "Now what's this all about?"
"Come on in, and I'll tell ya," the mysterious figure said.
Big D sighed, and walked into the shack. He glanced around, but it would appear that the mystery man had disappeared. Suddenly, the door slammed behind him.
"What's going on here?" he demanded.
"That's for me to know, and you to find out," a second voice said. "If you're lucky!"
Before Big D could respond, something hit him in the back of the head hard, knocking him unconscious.
"Pleasant nightmares, Big D," the second mysterious voice said with a laugh. He was the stereotypical mysterious villain, concealing his face for the moment.
"All right, men," he said. "He's incapacitated for now. Let's get him out of here before he comes to."
"Right, boss," the first mystery voice said, as he, and three other men, walked into the shack.
"We know what to do," one of the three others said.
"Then do it," the boss said.
The four hoods then proceeded to drag Big D out of the shack, and over to a van parked nearby. They opened the back doors of the van, and loaded the unconscious chief inside. The boss, and two of the goons climbed in the back, while the other two went in the front, and drove off.
"You sure this is gonna work, boss?" one of the goons asked.
"Positive," the boss replied. "By the time we're finished, we'll practically own Megatropolis. And the Secret Security Headquarters won't even know what hit them!"
The fivesome began laughing over their plot, as they drove off into the night.