Most people at such a great height would look down and quiver in fear. In the very least, butterflies would flutter about in their stomachs as they viewed the suburbs from the edge. Dead Man's Drop was exactly what the name implied; no man had ever thought of plummeting down the Drop without expecting to land in hospital.
Not Kick Buttowski. The young daredevil had long conquered the area and had done it frequently as though it were a mere walk in the park.
"Ready, Gunther?" he asked though the walkie-talkie.
"Ready!" came the static reply of the Nordic boy.
A wild grin broke out, and Kick's steely gaze focused on his usual trail. He gave Ol' blue a firm push, and the next second, he was rocketing down the peak like a stray lightning bolt. His excitement spiked as he picked up more speed. What a rush! The adrenaline he got never got old nor wore out whenever he did a stunt. This is what Kick lived for, until it hurt. No, even when he was hurt, he would still keep going. Nothing could take away his determination or guts to face the unstoppable forces of physics.
"Here it comes," Gunther warned softly, grabbing an armful of water balloons from a box. Wait a second, these were all of it? He was sure both he and Kick filled more than this; they had spent their entire Saturday morning preparing for this stunt!
"Where are the rest of them?" he panicked. Their obstacle course would surely fail, and lack the usual awesomeness would turn off the gathering crowd. The box was half empty! Who could've taken them-? An annoying laughter broke his train of thought. That signature laughter could belong to none other than—
"Yeah Brad!"
The trio of lunatics had arrived. Brad grinned with mischievous intent, holding his share of the water balloons. Behind him were Horace and Pansy who did the same.
Ah well, at least they were willing to help. Help him FAIL.
"You're going DOWN, dillweed!" Brad stated, making a thumbs down with his free hand. As if on cue, the trio launched the colourful decorations, their much more powerful aim able to reach a higher altitude. Soon, there would be no need for it, for the velocity of Kick's drop soon played to their advantage. Gunther noticed this at once and yelled.
"KICK, LOOK OUT!"
Kick bristled as his friend's warning echoed, annoyed by his brother's meddling ways. Nevertheless, he would continue the stunt. Just a few more minutes and the sign would be in his reach.
'Not on my watch,' the elder Buttowski brother thought, narrowing his eyes. He signaled to the other two and at the same time, launched it to their target. Kick glared from his position. They were using the exact tactic the duo once did during the battle for their awesome hangout.
'You're going to have to do better than that,' Kick mentally taunted, facing the challenge his beloved brother came up for him. They were just water balloons, and couldn't possibly do much harm. Brad never learns, or so he thought. Swerving every now and then for a few dead trees, he avoided each and every one of the balloons thrown at him. Kick returned a smirk, only to have it wiped off of his face when he spotted something that looked like a slingshot. What's this? Brad had one more trick up his sleeve! They were aiming something at him, he just couldn't see what!
"NOW!" Brad yelled as both Horace and Pansy released the huge rubber band. An array of darker-coloured water balloons flew their way to their target: Kick. The crash-helmeted boy tsk'd in annoyance and easily dodged them. What he didn't see coming, however, was a medium-sized rock cleverly chiseled to imitate a balloon's shape. It traveled more slowly due to its weight, but it hit dead-on, right between the eyes. Kick howled in pain, nearly falling off. There was another rock too, but this one was smaller and was aimed for the front of his skateboard. That, too, met its target. Kick barely had the time to recover and he was just a few seconds away from the sign. It became dangerously slippery from then on, for the trio had launched the next set too early. Unable to see what else was next, he failed to notice another rock in his path. The skateboard rammed into it, sending Kick flying without Ol' Blue. It was fine, his sight recovered and he was headed straight for the sign.
"Bis-CUIIITTTTS!" he shouted, his gloved fingers a mere millimeter away from the sign. He missed it! Just by a millimeter! Brad just cackled as he witnessed his little brother go down the more 'deadly' path and fly across the suburbs once again.
It was like a tiny miscalculation that led to this. He knew he couldn't beat Brad most of the time, he knew Brad was going to show up, but that rock! And such precision and timing! There had to be someone else behind this, Brad wasn't one for brains and neither were those dim-witted two.
'So who…?' he was so deep in thought, he had nearly forgotten he was headed for a roof.
Brad turned to his unlikely ally. "Thanks for helping, Gordie."
The brunette snorted in return. "It was easy. Piece of cake," Gordon waved it off, holding a book behind him titled 'How to beat a daredevil: For dummies' and some kind of gadget stolen from a Mellowbrook nerd.
285 Edison Ave
"Now, where did that screw go?"
Ronaldo scratched his head, busying himself with a toolbox. He reached for the blueprint, skimming through it again before looking up at the contraption he built right outside the garage. He wasn't quite sure what it did yet, but it looked like it could project a portal of some sort. Sure, he may have owned a lot of useful devices that came out of a science fiction movie, but inventing was something that he had yet to improve on.
"This is…difficult. Why am I doing this again?" he asked aloud to himself. Oh right, those two boys the other day motivated his desire with envy to build such wonderful, impossible-looking inventions. And Kendall, Kendall dearest, was just so hard to please! 'It's as if I don't know how to please her anymore,' he frowned hopelessly, recalling what she said some weeks ago. He needed something big; something unexpected; something expensive; something to prove his love for her; something…out of a mad scientist's lair. He glanced down at the signature of the blueprint. Dr. H***z D. The rest of the surname got his attention.
"Really, what kind of name is that? German? Austrian? Is it even a name?" he criticized the sheet of paper for it, creating a boring monologue and rant of some sort no one, not even his loony 'subordinates' would want to hear. Ronaldo sighed, stopping when he felt he made no sense anymore. The thing was, his relationship with Kendall didn't seem to be having its spark anymore. Ronaldo worked long and hard to impress her, but every time her attention was torn to that menace, his rival, Buttowski.
Oh how the mere thought of the daredevil grated on his nerves. Not only he had defied the laws of physics, being able to get back at him and put him in debt (he kind of deserved that, anyway), proving him wrong during Brad's little internet empire, but each time Kendall would make those…eyes at him in Ronaldo's presence. The nerve!
But then he remembered, the only reason how he and Kendall ended up together was their mutual hatred for a common enemy. Perhaps she did not hate him anymore? After all, Hate was just a stop from love, or so his mother had said once. This was the same woman who would not stop arguing and exchanging swords made of words with that man whenever they were home from work. Ugh, he would never understand woman logic. They were all so sensitive, so emotional, so…aggressive. Ronaldo shuddered, having faced Kendall during one of those unfortunate moments. Something about a certain time of a month, he had been told.
Or perhaps there was something more to Kick he had missed, when Ronaldo was too busy mentally bathing in hatred in his presence. Or maybe it wasn't hatred? Oh, for a boy, he was thinking too much. He tried to think of those rare times they both got along. There was that unusual truce when Kick was about to be expelled. The awkwardness when their hands were glued together. Neither of them wanted to annoy Kendall with their bickering, so they shut it.
Sighing, he kept working on the machine. It was almost done now, all there was left to do was connect a few wires. Briefly, he turned his attention to the weather. Ahh, it was perfect: Not too hot, not too cold, and not too windy. The neighborhood was calm and quiet, everything was peaceful and a faint cry could be heard at a distance.
A faint what?
Ronaldo jerked his head to the source, hearing a few crashes every other second.
"—And sometimes PIIIEEEEEEEE–!"
"Buttowski?"
A streak of white, red and yellow came to view, heading directly towards Ronaldo's machine in breakneck speed. The blond boy connected the wires in the wrong place in the spur of the moment due to his surprise. The contraption sparked and beeped wildly to signal a malfunction. Before it could do much else, Kick collided with it.
CRASH!
Pieces of shattered metal and debris flew everywhere as the machine exploded, enveloping everything within a 100-metre radius in thick, heavy smoke.
Having a short coughing fit, Ronaldo disregarded his feelings of irritation and anger at his work being destroyed. As a dedicated science student, he knew safety came first.
"Buttowski? Are you alri—" another coughing fit overtook him. Something must be wrong with his voice, it sounded a little deeper and rougher than usual. He waved the smoke away to clear his vision, and a bright yellow colour caught his attention. Ronaldo raised a brow, clearing the smoke again. It was closer than he thought, and he yelped in surprise. The machine must've dyed his gloves yellow or something.
"Buttowski…?" he called out for the third time. Even if Kick were his enemy, he swore if anything happened to either of them…
" I'm here…" a voice called out weakly from his right. Ronaldo sighed in relief. Again, it didn't sound right. Kick's voice wasn't as good as…Ronaldo's.
"Are you alright?" Ronaldo followed the voice, glad the smoke was finally clearing. When it did, both boys got the shock of their lives and screamed at the sight of the other.
"Y-You're…" Ronaldo stammered out.
"…M-Me." Kick finished for him.
The silence commenced. The entire neighborhood had not reacted to the explosion. It was very unusual, and so was the situation before them.
Ronaldo rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn't looking at a twisted mirror. Wait, was this just a failed clone? Was this a joke played on him by the publisher of the blueprints? He was pretty sure they were laughing their heads off now. Kick has similar thoughts, staring at 'himself'. Forgetting the current situation for a second, he felt the urge to crack a joke about how good looking he was. But this was Ronaldo he was actually looking at, Ronaldo, his sworn enemy. Or was it?
'Kick' stared down at 'Ronaldo'. He then laughed nervously after the awkward silence that had ensued for a full minute. Ronaldo was now Kick. Kick was now Ronaldo.
Who would've thought? That the two greatest enemies in all Mellowbrook would now take a long walk in each other's boots.
To be continued.
A/N: Second fanfiction I've written and first for this awesome fandom. Constructive criticism and reviews are greatly appreciated, I hoped you enjoyed it~!
