Disclaimer: I do not own CDRR; if I did this would be how the episode would have gone.
Note: This is a retelling of the episode "Le Purrfect Crime" that tells what would have happened if Dale had not gotten hit on the head with the broken statue finger and continued being RamDale. Enjoy.
RamDale Reloaded
"Nah nah! Missed me!" Dale - or rather, RamDale - blew a raspberry in Chip's direction. He brandished a red paintbrush in the air like a sword while he stood at the unfinished statue's base.
"Over here Dale!" Chip shouted, trying to get his attention. Chip looked frantically around the room, desperately hoping to find something he could lead Dale to so he could bonk his friend in the head – and restore his memory.
"Well, well, what do we have here?" With a triumphant smile, RamDale hoisted his newest weapon- a stapler gun, which he had just conveniently found next to the statue.
Chip was stunned. Espresso beans where one thing… but staples? Who the heck left a stable gun there in there in the first place anyhow?
With a gasp, Chip turned away and started running from Dale, dodging the bullet-like staples that started raining down upon him. Unfortunately for Chip, Dale seemed to be able to keep up with ease, if not that he was always there when he turned around, and before he knew it, Dale had him cornered.
"Dale, you don't want to this," Chip warned his best friend, desperately hoping to buy some time for himself to escape.
"Oh believe me, I do." RamDale said, smiling wickedly as he stapled Chip's hands and feet to the wall. Chip struggled ageist his bonds in vain.
"Dale please, it's me Chip, I'm your best friend remember?" Chip begged, trying to reason with him.
"Dale please stop, you're not like this!" RamDale mocked Chip, even going as far to pantomime exactly what Chip looked like. This included putting his hands up to make a fake fedora and putting a semi-desperate expression on his face. This set Chip's blood boiling.
"My name is RamDale; I'm a gun crazy chipmunk!" Chip fired back, momentarily forgetting his current precarious situation.
"Why you…" RamDale twitched, sounding a little like his real self.
Chip gave a smart alek grin.
And that is what set RamDale off.
Grabbing Chip's hat off his head, and placing it on his own head, RamDale shouted, "Not so high and mighty without this huh?!" Sounding completely like the old Dale in the process.
Pointing the staple gun at Chip's head, RamDale continued on his rant, "You won't be smiling when there's a hole in your head."
Paling slightly, Chip remembered that he was at a disadvantage.
"Dale please!" Chip whispered.
"Bye-Bye!" RamDale said, pulling his finger on the trigger.
CLICK CLICK
"Darn, out of stables," RamDale muttered, shaking the staple gun furiously, "Just isn't my day is it?"
Chip breathed a quick sigh of relief; grateful that a bit of good luck had finally come his way.
"You are out of the way…." RamDale grinned, "But Maltese did tell me to make sure you were 'as flat as French Toast'."
RamDale took a quick glance around the room. Almost immediately his eyes came across a painter's pallet. He bared his teeth in an evil smile.
"Dale, we've known each other since we were just kids, remember?" Chip pleaded, starting to get desperate for at least a little recognition.
"Shut. up." RamDale growled. He was getting real tired of this so called 'Chip' acting like he knew him or something.
"If we're such good friends, then why were you making fun of me earlier?" RamDale glared at Chip, who returned his glower with a scowl of his own.
"You started that!" Chip retorted. He checked himself quickly. Now was not the time. "I'm sorry, I just got mad earlier. Now, come on, we're friends. We've been friends for a long time! So put that thing down!"
"Hah!" RamDale snorted. "If we're such good friends, then why did you leave me to wander all around Paris by myself? With amnesia, even?"
Chip's expression became hopeful. "Dale? You're beginning to remember! You're…"
"Prepare to be all colored up," RamDale said wickedly. He smashed the paint filled pallet into Chip's face, cutting his protest off in mid sentence.
Wiping his paws off on his Hawaiian shirt, RamDale congratulated himself on a job well done, and walked away.
As he headed back to Maltese's layer however, RamDale couldn't shake the feeling that something just wasn't right.
^-^-^-^-^-^-^
When RamDale arrived, he quickly presented Chip's fedora to Maltese, the gray cat was thrilled. No words from Dale were needed for him to know what happened.
"Magnifique RamDale, you have proven yourself, nothing can stop us now." The cat grinned deviously. This 'RamDale' he had created had turned out into a great success. Oh how he loved molding innocent souls for his desires! Turning around to face his subordinates, Fat Cat's cousin began his speech.
"For to long Paree has been raining cats and dogs. It is time to step on some poodles!" Maltese meowed in triumph. "Come, off to carry out my plans!" With that the grey cat set off, followed by his henchmen and RamDale who was marching at rapt attention.
As it turned out, carrying off his plans involved going to the Eiffel Tower, where he would rig the devise that would rid Paris of dogs forever. Unable to resist gloating any longer, Maltese began bragging on his so called 'magnificent plan'.
"I am going to broadcast my ultra sonic sound wave from the most powerful satellite in all of France!" the gray cat exclaimed, as they reached the right height on the tower.
Laughing cruelly, the feline watched as his goons cranked the machine, sending wild yelps echoing from below.
^-^-^-^-^-^-^
Sputtering and gasping, Chip managed to push the pallet off his body. He was now dripping from head to toe in various paint colors. Even after almost dying, Chip imagined Dale rolling on his side laughing hysterically at the sight. Then Chip imagined himself coming over to give his friend a bonk on the head.
Alas, Dale was in no mind to do any of that stuff.
However, Chip found that being smeared with paint had an advantage: the staples binding him to the wall were easier to loosen, and he was able to wiggle free. His sigh of relief at not being trapped anymore was cut short as he fell a foot to the floor. 'RamDale' had managed to trap him high up on the wall. Shaking himself slightly, a wave of anger came over him.
How could Dale do that to him! Chip had the mind to - no – that wasn't Dale. It was Maltese's creation, RamDale. The real Dale wouldn't do that to him, even if he was mad at him. Dale had every right to be angry. Dale was his best friend for crying out loud, and he had said all those mean things to him, knowing Dale didn't deserve it, and driving him to tears. Sighing, Chip repositioned his blue-green jacket. Just what kind of friend was he?
"Hate to interrupt you mate, but we do need a little help over here!" Monty's voice sounded from where he was covered in dried plaster. Snapped out of his thoughts, Chip ran over to help his friends- only to find he couldn't.
The pick and hammer needed to free them was a two man job. Chip and Dale where the only ones not covered in plaster, but Dale was long gone (physically and mentally). Chip realized for the time being, Gadget, Monty and Zipper were trapped.
"Golly Chip, you'll have to stop Maltese on your own." Gadget mumbled through the plaster.
"My own, but what about you guys?" Chip asked, "I can't do this on my own!"
"Your going to have to Chipper, there isn't enough time to bail us out," Monty urged Chip.
"Zhats Zight!" Zipper added, barley managing to buzz under his heavy weights of plaster.
"All, right," Chip sighed, "What's Maltese's plan Monty?"
"Maltese is using some sorta devise to drive the dogs away; he said something about finding a satellite to get rid of all 'em dogs." Monty responded.
"Got it, you guys stay here," Chip ordered reluctantly. He had no idea how he was going to do this by himself.
"Like we have a choice…" Monty muttered under his breath as Chip exited the room.
^-^-^-^-^-^-^
When Chip finally reached the hideout, however, Maltese was no where to be found. Groaning to himself, Chip began to look for clues to their whereabouts. Scouting around, Chip found a bag of half eaten shells, the usual materials of the room, and a couple of paintings of Dale and the rest of the Rescue Ran… Chip did a double take. Dale?
A painting resembling what Dale looked like as RamDale was lying on its side. In the painting, Dale had a mean expression on his face, and looked ready to fire at whoever was standing in front of him. The second painting showed the rest of the rangers in normal attire. This must have been part of what Maltese used to give Dale his other self.
Chip felt his anger rising once again as he imagined Dale sitting there- probably waiting to be told who he was- eating the nuts with an innocent expression on his face. Then Maltese showing him the painting and telling him he was RamDale and the rangers where his enemy. Taking advantage of Dale's good nature like that!
Then all at once the feelings of guilt knotted his stomach again. He took advantage of Dale's good nature to. Not that he would turn him to a criminal. But when he yelled at Dale and berated him, he always knew his friend would be kind enough to forgive him.
Taking another look around the room, Chip found nothing else out of the ordinary. Where had Maltese gone? He certainly didn't leave many clues…. a muffled barking sound reached his ears. Climbing up to the window, Chip saw many dogs fleeing in terror from an unseen attacker.
It looked like he wouldn't need to deduce where Maltese had gone, all he had to do was back track to where the dogs were running from. Gulping, Chip headed off.
^-^-^-^-^-^-^
Maltese crackled triumphantly as he watched the dogs of Paris, mostly consisting of poodles, flee from his devise. His two rat goons also seemed to be enjoying the show, cracking grins as they viewed there most hated enemy running away. RamDale on the other hand was in deep thought.
Why did he have this funny feeling something wasn't right? Ever since he had taken care of the Rescue Rangers, especially the chipmunk, RamDale had the feeling that he had done something wrong- but why? He was a feared criminal who worked for Maltese; he probably did these things all the time. Maybe his amnesia was causing mixed feelings?
While Dale continued to ponder his feelings, Chip was in the process of climbing higher up the Eiffel Tower to a spot higher then where Maltese was. It hadn't taken long for him to locate where Maltese had gone, not with all these dogs running around. Glancing from his new position on one of the metal beams of the tower, he spotted Maltese, his gang, and Dale. Maltese and his two goons appeared to be enjoying the mayhem bellow, but Dale appeared to be in deep thought over something. He looked slightly troubled, but what could be bothering Dale now?
Leaning in for a closer look, Chip began to make out some of the conversation going on below.
"When all these dogs are gone, life will be magnifique," the feline purred.
"As you say boss, no dogs to trouble us," one of the two rats added.
"A most well thought out masterpiece," offered the other rat, feeding the grey cat's already swelled head.
Maltese grinned widely, but he still wanted the opinion of a certain rodent.
"What do you think RamDale?" Maltese asked.
Chip leaned further down, worried of what Dale's response would be. Would Dale really say he loved crime or something like that, as Chip feared he would?
Startled Dale looked up, surprised that he had been addressed at all.
"Weeelllll?" Maltese purred, waiting for an answer.
Chip leaned even further down- unfortunately for him a little too far.
Maltese, the two rats, and Dale jumped back as Chip fell right in front of them looking a little dazed.
Shaking himself slightly, Chip nervously glanced upwards as Maltese's rats grabbed him on each side.
"Well, well, what do we have here?" Maltese growled menacingly, "Didn't you get rid of him RamDale?"
"Last time I saw him, it was with a pallet in his face," RamDale replied, too stunned that the chipmunk was alive to give a witty remark.
"No matter," Maltese shrugged it off, "throw him over the side."
"Yes boss," the rats replied simultaneously.
"Dale help!" Chip shouted desperately, even though he knew it was no use by the cold look Dale gave him.
"One, two, three," the rats chanted as they prepared to throw Chip to his death.
RamDale snorted, so this was it for that stupid chipmunk. He wouldn't make it out this time around. But watching the chipmunk getting swung back and forth by the rats made him more and more uneasy. A desperate expression on the chipmunk's face caused a strange feeling to come over RamDale, and pictures started playing through his head.
"Glad to meet you Dale, my name's Chip."
"Come on Dale, follow me!"
"Hey, you bullies leave Dale alone!"
"You're my best friend Dale, always will be."
"Stupid, you almost got yourself hurt!"
"Thanks Dale, sorry for yelling at you earlier."
"Great plan Dale."
"Come on buddy!"
"Not that way Dale."
"We're not move'n, he is!"
"On the count of three, we run."
"Morning Dale."
"I'd give anything to see him, to hear his voice again!"
"Dale!"
The picture show ended, and before Dale knew it he was running, faster than he ever thought he could possibly run.
With a final swing, Chip was thrown over the tower.
This is it, Chip thought in despair. But in a way, he deserved it. If it wasn't for his actions earlier none of this would have ever happened. But there was so many things he wanted to do to. Confess his love to Gadget, read his novels one more time, but most importantly apologize to Dale……
Something furry snagged Chip's arm mid fall.
"Are you all right Chip?" came a worried voice from above.
"Dale!" Chip exclaimed joyously.
From over the side of the tower, Dale's head popped out, looking both concerned and relived at the same time. Chip could hardly believe his eyes.
"Here grab my paw!" Dale ordered, giving his other hand to help pull Chip up.
"Right," Chip answered, gladly taking the offer.
With a few agonized grunts, plus a couple of close calls of Dale almost dropping Chip, he managed to pull him up and out of harms way. Immediately afterwards, the two best friends hugged each other in relief.
"Thanks Dale," Chip said in gratitude, but then hesitated slightly and added, "……..you do remember who you are right?"
"Yep," Dale smiled, "I remember."
"…..and we're best buddy's right?" Chip added.
"Always," Dale grinned, giving Chip a strange look, "Best friends forever, no ifs, ands or buts."
Taking off the fedora that still rested upon his head, Dale held it sheepishly before handing it back to Chip.
"Sorry for taking your hat…." Dale mumbled, slightly embarrassed.
Chip giggled slightly as he took the hat back before continuing. "That's ok, but listen Dale, I'm sorry for what I said earlier, I know I can't say anything that'll really make it up to you but-"
Chip was interrupted by a bear hug from Dale. Wagging his tail, Dale gave Chip a big sloppy grin. "I'll forgive you, if you forgive me for trying to kill you guys."
"But Dale, you had no idea what was really going on, you didn't know who to believe with that amnesia!" Chip argued, securing his fedora back on his head.
"All the same, I'm sorry." Dale warned, giving Chip a good hearted glare.
Breaking into a smile, Chip relented, "Deal, now lets stop Maltese."
"Alright Chipper, you give the orders!" Dale saluted in sailor fashion.
Then, beckoning Dale closer, Chip whispered just what he had in mind.
^-^-^-^-^-^-^
Maltese watched as his RamDale came marching back up the steps; the cat mildly asked where he had gone- and where the fedora was.
"That chipmunk made a wonderful splat sound," RamDale smiled cruelly. "as for that stupid hat, I got rid of it."
Maltese grinned in satisfaction, the chipmunk celebrating his own friend's death was proof that he had finally sunk into the depths of evil.
"Say Maltese, do you think I could crank that machine for a while?" RamDale inquired, putting on the best cold look he could muster.
Maltese was surprised at RamDale's question, but readily agreed. This action would bring his RamDale one step closer to being a criminal.
RamDale smiled as he ran up to the machine. His paw moved forward as if to crank the thing, but he picked it up instead.
"What are you doing RamDale?" Maltese warned.
"Stopping you." Dale smiled, walking over to the edge of the tower.
"Don't you dare." Maltese growled.
"Who's going to stop me?" Dale challenged.
"Get that putrid little rodent!" the gray cat screamed at his underlings.
"I wouldn't do that," Dale warned, wiggling the machine back and forth, "a klutz like me might drop it."
"Let's not be hasty," Maltese reasoned, panic rising slightly in his voice.
Dale wiggled the machine again, earning a gasp from Maltese. He hoped Chip would hurry up with what he was doing, but this distraction stuff was fun.
^-^-^-^-^-^-^
Chip raced through the streets and alleyways of Paris, looking for what he needed to capture: Fat Cat's sadistic cousin. He knew time was of the essence, for the chipmunk wasn't sure how long Dale could keep Maltese distracted without coming to harm.
The images of what the cat might do to Dale hastened Chip's pace. He peered frantically around every corner, through every window. Nothing. He was beginning to wonder despairingly if he would have to formulate another plan, when he finally spotted what he was looking for hidden in a narrow, shadowed alley. The chipmunk grinned as he turned into the corridor, his plan unfolding in his mind.
^-^-^-^-^-^-^
Maltese's fury increased as the maddening chipmunk continued to stand at the edge of the tower, taunting the feline as he threatened to drop the machine. How dare a rodent try to stop him, the grey cat thought angrily. The angrier Maltese got about it, the less he cared about what happened to his machine and the more he wanted the rodent disposed of.
"I can't believe anyone would want to work for you!" Dale mocked, "You mangy old cat!"
This set Maltese over the edge. The cat screamed in fury as he lunged forward towards Dale, claws fully extended.
Dale froze for a moment, unsure how to react to this unexpected surge of wrath. In a sudden burst of adrenaline, he threw the machine over the edge of the tower and began running as fast as he could towards the Eiffel Tower's stairs.
But Maltese was too quick for him. In a matter of seconds, the big cat had Dale clutched in his paw.
"You pesky rodent!" Maltese growled, "You have betrayed me and ruined my masterful plan! For that, I will kill you."
"A little h-hasty isn't it?" Dale gulped nervously.
"Not at all." The gray cat sneered as he pointed one of his razor sharp claws near Dale's stomach.
Cringing, Dale turned his head to the side. Then suddenly, the chipmunk smiled and looked back at Maltese.
"You might want to put me down." Dale smiled, gesturing towards one of the towers corners.
Maltese looked at where Dale had pointed, his angry expression turning to one of horror. At least four dogs where coming at him at once, lead by the black-nosed chipmunk his goons had thrown over the tower earlier.
"Hold on Dale!" Chip shouted to his friend, "We're coming!"
Two of the dogs rushed the rat goons, pinning them to the ground. The other two tackled Maltese head on knocking him over. But as a result, the cat lost his grip on Dale, who was flung into the air.
Dale looked around; everything seemed to be going in slow motion for him. The two rats, struggling under the weight of the canines. Maltese, as he wiggled, clawing and screaming under his own doggy restraints. Chip, whose expression changed from triumph to terror as he started to chase his falling friend.
Then all at once things sped up again, and Dale's back collided against one of the metal beams of the tower. Crying out, Dale sunk to the ground, deathly still.
"Dale, Dale speak to me!" Chip shouted to Dale as he reached him.
Holding Dale in his arms, Chip continued to call Dale's name. But nothing seemed to be working. Dale lay limply; his eyes closed and mouth slightly agape.
Chip began to tear up as he continued, "Dale please say something, anything!"
Dale remained silent. The rodent police force came to take Maltese and his goons away. The dogs went with them for questioning. But Chip remained oblivious to this as he continued to hold Dale against his chest.
"Dale, you're important to the Rangers!" Chip cried, "I don't always thank you. There was that time in South America when you saved us from being zombies. Then there was that time where you saved us from the kiwis- granted they didn't capture you because you faked a broken toe but that's not the point. We need you Dale, I need you! So please, please wake up!"
They sat there, silent for a moment, and then: "Gee Chip, do you really mean that?"
"Of course I meant that stup- Dale!" Chip broke off, staring as Dale peeked up at him through half-closed lids. "Dale you're all right!"
"Yep, I woke up just as you started that nice speech of yours." Dale grinned.
Chip feigned an annoyed glare, "...And you continued letting me worry just to hear me say that?"
"Sure did!" Dale smiled impishly.
"Well, I'm glad your alright Dale, I was really worried." Chip grinned back.
"Thanks Chip, and by the way, where are the other Rangers?" Dale asked curiously, "I don't see them anywhere!"
Gasping, Chip leaped up, dropping Dale in the process. "Oh no! They're still in the plaster! Come on Dale!" The chipmunk clutched his fedora to keep it from blowing off and took off running for the stairs.
"Coming!" Dale shouted, running after his best friend.
With that two chipmunks – and two best friends - raced off together, disappearing into the setting sun.
*Epilogue*
The Ranger Wing flew through the air, carrying two chipmunks, two mice, and a fly. As France disappeared into the background, one of the chipmunks spoke up.
"I'll never doubt you again Dale." Chip smiled at his friend.
"A million French poodles are grateful to you." Gadget smiled from behind the wheel.
"Too right mate!" Monty commented, giving Dale a couple of pats on the back.
"Ow….." Dale grimaced, earning a laugh from everyone as they continued out, sailing into the ocean.
The End