Osmosis Jones was trying desperately hard not to get himself killed, although this was a little hard when a certain virus by the name of Thrax had a length of cord wrapped around his neck and was proceeding to choke him with it.
"Looks good on you, Jones!" The virus smirked down at him, narrowing those blazing, acid-yellow eyes as he grinned into Ozzie's face, who was staring straight ahead in a decidedly panicked fashion with both hands at his own throat, trying to loosen the choking hold. Thrax lowered his voice. "You wear it well…" Ozzie (had he not been choking to death) would have shivered a little at that tone. It was almost… seductive. Seductive? He wasn't sure 'seductive' was the right word to use when someone was throttling you for all their worth, but he was a little preoccupied with not dying to think about it in detail.
Suddenly, a loud whooshing sound filled their eyes, and Thrax turned, dragging Ozzie with him, just in time for Shayne's eyelid to come rushing towards the duo. Thrax yelled his surprise as Shayne blinked and the two were separated in a tidal wave of intraocular liquid, Ozzie falling onto an eyelash whilst Thrax fell short, splashing face-down onto the surface of Shayne's eyeball once more.
After struggling with the cord still wound tightly around his neck for a few moments, Ozzie could finally breathe again, and did so with great relief, before grasping the chord in his triumph. "Ha!" He exclaimed. He could save Frank with the hypothalamus DNA, the city was going to live! Although.. there WAS the matter of actually getting back to Frank in the first place.
Ozzie wasn't remotely prepared when something hit him with the force of an Oxygen truck and knocked all his hard-earned air straight back out of his lungs, turning him over and pinning him to the lash. He opened his eyes, only to find himself staring up at Thrax's face, who grinned maliciously and raised his killer claw, before plunging it straight through Ozzie's chest. Ozzie felt the lash beneath him shift. What? Oh, Frank… it was a false lash! He could hear the low ping as strands of glue strained and snapped, signalling the lash's eventual separation from its owner. Thrax didn't seem to care, and lowered his voice once more to that strangely sultry tone as he gloated over his apparent victory. "Can you feel the heat, Jones? Heheheh… shame you won't be around to see me break my record when I take down Frank's pretty little girl…"
"She ain't goin' down…"
Thrax's confident grin faltered. What did he mean? The virus looked down incredulously. His claw wasn't piercing Ozzie's heart, but rather lancing deep into the surface of the lash as Ozzie's natural morphing ability kicked in, making a convenient hole in his chest so Thrax's killer claw passed through entirely. The immunity cell was the one with the victorious grin now as he looked up at Thrax's furious face. "…You are!" He finished, and with that, separated himself into two halves and worked his way out from underneath his captor, who immedaitl snarled his rage and continued trying to wrench his claw from the lash's surface.
The lash was going to go any second now. Ozzie ran, still grasping the hypothalamus cord tightly in one hand, and leapt as high as he just as the lash finally gave way, plunging through the air and taking a screaming Thrax with it, heading straight down towards a beaker of pure medical-grade alchohol, leaving Ozzie hanging from a strand of glue. Pumped full of adrenaline, his throat sore from the cord's cruel grip, but undoubtedly alive, Ozzie couldn't resist the urge to cheer his triumph. But his mission wasn't over yet. He pulled himself up a little further, watching as Shayne began to cry over her father's 'dead' body, a giant globule of water forming nearby as tears got ready to fall. Ozzie saw his chance, and let go of the glue strand, becoming encased in the tear as it fell (through an unfortunate lack of hospital hygiene) straight into Frank's open mouth.
However, Ozzie was so preoccupied by this point that he didn't see what had happened to the fake lash, which had sunk to the bottom of the beaker of alchohol. No organism, virus or cell, would survive a dip in THAT bath. Strangely, there was no virus on the lash to found. Whilst Ozzie was busy timing his jump into the tear, Thrax had finally succeeded in wrenching his claw out of the lash. He jumped just in time, allowing the air currents (and his trench coat-turned-glider) carry him to safety, landing in Franks'd hair with something of a relieved grimace. He attempted to stand, but his earlier fight had weakened him more than he'd thought. He cursed. He would have to wait to make another move on Frank, and by that time, Jones would have returned the hypothalamus DNA to its rightful place. Stupid immunity cell. He had to hand it to him though, Jones sure could pack a punch.
Sometimes, Thrax swore that being a supervillain just wasn't what people cut it out to be.