And now we're back with the sequel to my recently completed fan fiction, Virus.
Kowalski: We've decided to bring you readers a sequel.
I'll give you exactly 5 seconds to celebrate... Ok, enough celebrating. Here's a little prologue to keep you hooked while we work on the story plot...
(A.N. To understand this prologue, I suggest you read this story's prequel, "Race Against Time: Virus". Trust me, it's good.)
Time unknown, Coney Island lair
Dr. Blowhole moped in his room. His most recent and failed attempt at revenge against the peng-you-wins had really gotten on his nerves.
A lobster scuttled into the room. "Your fish is here, Doc," he reported, lifting up the bucket of herring in his claws.
"Just set it over there," the evil dolphin mastermind ordered, waving a flipper at some random corner. Just then, a glimmer of red caught his normal eye.
It was a red button on his control panel. That one that he told the peng-you-wins would cause his virus to mutate into instantaneous death for Skipper.
Suddenly, he remembered something he had discovered while developing the virus: since they weren't actually "alive" in any sense, they were virtually immortal. That meant that his virus was weakened, but still surviving...
Immediately, he tore off the plastic cover on the button and hit it. He may not have succeeded once, but this time... this time the odds were in his favour.
08 00 hours, Penguins' HQ
"Oh, not again..." Skipper muttered, head in flippers. This was apparently not his day. He had been kept awake for the past few hours by sudden headaches and an urge to launch into spontaneous combat with his men, at least, more than usual.
Kowalski's head appeared over the edge of his own bunk.
"Something wrong, Skipper?" he asked.
Skipper shook his head. It was probably a side effect of the antidote. You never knew with someone like an evil dolphin.
"I think it's just the lemurs again," he answered, "How long has that party been going on already anyway?"
Kowalski studied his clipboard. "Uh... since last night."
Skipper reasoned their relentless noise was his source of insomnia. And maybe it was. Who knows? This may have absolutely nothing to do with our story...
Does it?
Kowalski: Really? Another cliffhanger?
Come on, Kowalski, I haven't got the faintest idea for the plot yet. Besides, it keeps the readers hooked.
Kowalski: Point taken.
This time looks a little premature to ask, but please review!