A/N: Yeah, this is probably one of those things that's gonna earn me a tour in a special circle of hell, but it had to be done. I mean, Martian mice are giant, interstellar rodents and Pookas were - you guessed it - giant, interstellar rodents.
DISCLAIMER: I own neither Rise of the Guardians nor Biker Mice from Mars. If I did, BMFM would be in mass production English DVD release. Like, ages ago.
WORDS: 896
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It was a nice, sunny morning and Bunny was sprawled beside one of the Warren's many springs. But this wasn't any morning; this was After-Easter Monday, Bunny's own personal holiday. The day where he took some much needed rest and absorbed all the belief Easter bolstered. It wasn't quite as invigorating as Defeated-Pitch Tuesday (being re-believed in, it turned out, was twice the power boost) had been few years prior, but it was routine and familiar. Safe. And safe was good.
Mostly, though, After-Easter Monday was peaceful. Even Jack respected it. Starting tomorrow, he'd have to deal with the winter sprite's endless pranks, Tooth's muttered threats about what she would do about "his chocolates wrecking the children's teeth", and North's ever-increasing gear-up as Christmas crept closer. But today was all for him.
That was why he chose to ignore the buzzing rumble that vibrated through the earth, dismissing it as some human in a dune buggy racing across the Outback. The species was prone to such acts of idiocy, after all. However, as he was trying to sink to a deeper level of unconsciousness, his ears told him what his mind was resisting. The rumbling was far too close and it was coming from within his tunnels, not the surface.
Intruders.
On machines.
Unacceptable.
Bunny was on his feet instantly, his ears swiveling and his nose twitching, trying to pinpoint which tunnel was being violated. Like a shot, he tore into the one that led straight up, a bellow ripping from his chest to echo through the confined space.
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"Aaaaahooooooo-whoaaaaaaaaaa!"
Vinnie's excited whoop turned to a shout of surprise as he crested a ridge only to have his bike drop into a well-hidden tunnel. He fell a few dozen yards before the slope leveled out enough for his bike to gain traction. He skidded to a halt, flipping on his headlight, giving a low whistle of appreciation. Thick greenery grew everywhere, carpeting the floor of the tunnel and hanging like curtains from the upper curve. Lush patches of flowers cropped up here and there, and the mouse was pretty sure the gleam of the headlight illuminated some eggs further down.
"Vinnie. You okay, bro?" Throttle's voice crackled through Vinnie's helmet communicator.
"Naturally. I mean, it's me. But you guys should get down here and check this out."
There was a roar of engines as Throttle and Modo plunged into the tunnel, coming to a stop alongside Vinnie's red sport bike. Surprise and awe registered on both their faces. "It's so green," Modo whispered reverently, leaning to pet the soft grass.
"How's it growing down here? There's not much sun and Australia ain't exactly known for its waterways."
"One way to find out." Vinnie revved his engine, pointing his tires deeper into the earth.
Throttle chuckled, resting his head on his hand. "Lead on, Vincent." The youngest mouse took off, closely followed by his bros.
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They had descended a couple hundred feet, as near as they could tell, and instead of darkening, the tunnel seemed to grow brighter. Through the whole length, shafts of sunlight had been inexplicably present, peeking through solid earth, but now, it was more like steady light banded with stripes of shadow. Throttle opened his mouth to comment on the oddity, but stopped as a roar reverberated from up ahead, shaking a small spray of dirt free from the ceiling. They pulled up, glancing around for danger.
"What was that?" Vinnie asked with a nervous chuckle.
"No clue. Eyes open, bros."
"Get out." It took Throttle a second to realize that the voice didn't belong to either of his bros, and a second more to see that the tunnel ahead of them had gone from being empty to being filled by a large shadow. Guns appeared from holsters like magic, but the silhouette didn't as much as flinch. "Get yer tails outta mah tunnels, ya ratbags."
"What did you just call us?" Modo roared.
"Ratbags." The figure stressed the first syllable, seemingly ignorant of the grey mouse's mounting ire. "Or can'tcha hear through those buckets on yer heads?"
"Rats?! Do we look like rats to you?" Modo fired off a volley of shots at the being, stirring up a cloud of dust as the walls of the tunnel caved a little from the assault.
As the aftershock died down, the earth shifted below their tires, shaking them from their bikes and raising them into the air. The ceiling opened above them and they were jettisoned from the ground, landing in a haphazard tangle of limbs and tails, surrounded by dust.
"Ya look like Martian vermin movin' in where ya don' belong." The figure loomed over them, still shadowy behind the screen of disturbed earth. "Just. Like. Rats." To the bros' surprise, a large furry head leaned down, baring bucked teeth at them. They blinked in confusion, taking in the long ears and angrily twitching nose. "If I evah catch ya in mah tunnels again, I'll cut yer tails off an' feed 'em to ya like spaghetti, got it?"
Without waiting for an answer, the creature tapped an overlarge foot against the ground and dropped into the hole that appeared and vanished in a matter of seconds. The mice untangled themselves, standing up slowly and staring at the spot where he had stood. Vinnie spoke first, his voice hesitant and confused.
"Was that a…rabbit?"
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A/N: *shuffles awkwardly* So…what do you think? Should I bother continuing or should I just buy my ticket and board the train to the deepest pit of writer's hell? Oh, and I'm sorry if the bros seemed a little…pathetic…in this chapter. It's just, Bunny's irked, amped up on believer-go-juice, and has the home field advantage, plus the element of surprise. I mean, he's a centuries-old, time-traveling space explorer; naturally he knows about Martian mice. Also, I have no clue about how hydrated Australia is; I'm assuming the Outback's fairly dry.