Disclaimer: I do not own Felix Renton, Marcella, Liz, or any other KP character in this fanfic. They are all characters of Kim Possible and created by Mark McCorkle and Bob Schooley and owned by Disney. '

I don't own South Panola or their logo or school.

I do own John Harper. He is an original character and all rights to him are owned by me.

It follows the events between Game 2 and the cheer elections.

The fourth bus traveled along the highway. Like the cheerleaders in the other three buses, they were in a mode of defeat. Liz Barker was staring out in the Delta farmlands as far as she could see. She just looked at the empty plastic bottle of her soda and the empty candy wrappers that they got from the convenience store some time ago. The other redhead of the cheer team took a deep breath and just sighed. The scenery was getting more and more depressing for her.

Instead of singing the blues like in Buses 1 and 3, she decided to keep quiet. To her, silence was the most depressing song of all. She looked out into the continuing thunderstorm.

She was adjusting the purple band that she normally wore to football games when Marcella Hernandez decided to start up a conversation to break the lonely silence.

"I hope the cheer elections go well tomorrow. Even I don't know what's going to happen to our squad." Marcella said in a quiet voice to not disturb the driver.

Liz just sighed. "Yeah, Marcella, I agree with you. It has been stressful enough as it is now with our old cheer captain gone and the Sunday night swirlies. And, now," She stared at the lightning-illuminated sky "this."

"Don't worry, Liz, things will get better." Marcella said as she tried to cheer up her best friend in these dark times by putting her hand on Liz's shoulder.

"I hope so, Marcella, for the sake of the football team ... for the sake of our squad," Liz said quietly as she turned her attention back to the stormy weather.

Marcella gave a deep sigh as she stared at the two statisticians who were in the bus with them: Felix Renton and John Harper.

John was already fast asleep from all the sugar and caffeine in his system.

In the back of the van, Felix was typing away on his laptop as he finished up his game story.

From the Mad Dog Sports Desk

by Felix Renton

MAD DOGS ONLY TASTE BITTER MILK OF DEFEAT

For the first time in three years, your Middleton Mad Dogs had suffered a blowout loss to an opponent. Tonight, the Mad Dogs lost to the Tigers of South Panola by the final of 44-14.

As Felix typed in the grim details, he gulped. The statistician didn't want to do this, especially in a 30-point blowout like this. He was reluctant to do so, but he had to put in every single painful aspect of the game, including South Panola rolling up 478 yards on the ground and five touchdowns and Ron "Unstoppable" Stoppable being held to just 59 yards on the ground and with no touchdowns for the first time in his career.

After 35 painful minutes of clacking the keys, Felix finally gave a deep sigh, "OK, I'm done!", and pressed SEND on his e-mail. Even though he could get no wireless net in the Delta, he had a powerful broadband card that he usually carries around. His face then turned to Marcella and Liz.

Felix did not want to do this.

"Ready, girls?" Felix asked as he gave another swallowing gulp.

Liz and Marcella nodded their heads.

Like he usually does after games, he shows the cheerleadersthe results of his handiwork. This time, he slowly turned his laptop towards them. As the computer screen took full attention to their faces, the two Mad Dog cheerleaders dropped their jaws.

Both Marcella and Liz gave a depressing groan.

Marcella lowered her head as she turned back to the storm. She folded her arms and leaned her upper body against the plastic cover that felt like ice on her hands. The only thing that she saw along that long dark stretch of highway was an occassional car with its red tailights trailing behind them.

Liz got out her pillow and blanket. She rested her pillow on the cold window stained with raindrops. How could this happen to us? Liz kept this question to herself as her purple headband holding back her short red hair rested on the fabric.

Both cheerleaders now understood what it was like to taste the sour drink of a humiliating loss.