Discaimer
blah, blah I don't own Kim Possible, blah, blah, Disney does,blah, blah, don't sue I have no money, blah, blah
Ron sat on the uncomfortable wooden chair in his room staring blankly at the object on top of the clutter on his desk. His brain had practically overloaded when he saw it. His naco royalty check from Buenos Nacho. A check for the sum of ninety-nine million dollars.
His first thought was of frivolous spending. Using the money to buy every luxury. Maybe even impress the kids at school. And of course Kim. Not just buying her stuff, he would of course, but mission gear too. The kind of gear that even Wade couldn't cobble together. Maybe even a plane? They would never have to worry about getting rides again. But yeah, mostly his mind just jumped around to buying everything and anything he could think of.
One look at his parents dashed that thought. While they weren't going to tell him what to do with the money, believing him old enough to make his own decisions, they did advise him to take some time and seriously consider what he wanted. They just wanted to make sure that he didn't get too impulsive and go overboard.
He excused himself shortly after and went to his room. That was at six and now it was after midnight and he still hadn't come to any real conclusions. His parents were right though. The more he thought about it the more trivial his first impulses seemed.
What did he really care about luxury? He was a Smarty Mart shopper and proud of it. It's not like he couldn't have gone to stores like Club Banana, his parents made a good living, he just didn't see the need in having a fancy label. As long as his clothes were comfortable he couldn't care less what name was on the tag.
And impressing the kids at school? Big deal! Sure it would be nice to be more popular, but if they only liked him because he was rich what's the point? It's not like they would be real friends just hangers on.
Not like Kim. She wouldn't care about expensive gifts. Sure she would like and accept them, but it wouldn't matter if she got them or not. He would still want to do the mission stuff if only to keep her safer.
What about the rest of the money though? I need to do something with it. Man, money matters are hard! I've been up here all night and I still don't have any answers!
Answers…
Answers!
One could practically see the light bulb flash above his head as the idea struck him like a ball of lightning. After all who else would he call when he needed an answer to something…
"Wade!" Ron exclaimed as the boy's groggy face appeared on the screen of his computer.
"Ron? Do you have any idea what time it is?"
"Oh yeah… um… sorry?" He smiled sheepishly. "I really need your help with something though."
"Alright, shoot."
"I came into some cash and need some investment advice. Can you hook me up?"
"Sure, not my area of expertise but I should be able to come up with something. How much we talking about."
"Just south of a hundred mill."
THUMP
"Wade?" Ron called as the boy genius disappeared from the screen leaving only the image of his room behind. "Wade, you in there buddy?"
Ron looked over to where Rufus was perched on the corner of the desk, the one clean spot available. "Do you think we killed him?"
"We?" The mole rat squeaked out before jumping off the desk and disappearing into the war zone of clothes, papers and food wrappers Ron called his room.
