AUTHOR'S NOTE: This started out as something posted on my Camp Monkee Mallard page, but I thought it would make an interesting idea for The Impossibles, so I retooled quite a bit of stuff here. As always, the Impossibles and Big D belong to Hanna-Barbera. Everyone else you encounter is mine.
Our story opens this time on the singing Impossibles playing a gig at a boardwalk carnival. Their mascot, Skittles, was sitting to the side of the Impossi-Stage, keeping time to the music by thumping her tail on the boardwalk. Once they were done with their set, the boys climbed off the bandstand and started to look around the carnival.
"This is one of those seedy things, isn't it?" Multi asked, clipping Skittles's leash to her collar.
"You're not kidding," Coiley said. "I've seen seedy carnivals before, but this one takes the cake. And I bet the midway games are nothing but shams."
"A good waste of time and money," Fluey said. "But not necessarily anything illegal. I don't think."
"Come on, let's go get something to eat," Coiley said. "I'm starving!"
The boys walked over to a concession stand for some burgers and fries. As they were chowing down, they heard a lot of screaming coming from down the boardwalk.
"Help! Police!" they heard a woman shouting. "Robbery!"
"So long, suckers!" a man wearing a black and white striped shirt, black pants, and black mask shouted, running down the boardwalk at top speed carrying a bag full of cash.
"Time to do the super bit again," Fluey said. And in a flash, the singing Impossibles converted into the superhero Impossibles, and Skittles barked three times, and performed a back flip, transforming into her identity as Impossi-Pup. Then the foursome took off running after the thief.
"Rally ho!" the boys called out.
The thief looked over his shoulder and groaned.
"Uh oh," he said. "Those impossible Impossibles! I'd better scram!"
"Stop, thief!" Coiley shouted. He stretched one of his arms out, and grabbed the thief by the back of his shirt collar. The thief managed to wriggle himself free, and he ducked into a nearby tent.
"I'll take care of this, fellas," Fluey said. "Rally ho-ho!"
Fluey converted into liquid and shot into the tent, socking the thief right in the nose and knocking him off his feet. At that moment a woman walked in, wearing what looked like a gypsy fortune teller costume, and she didn't look happy.
"Vhat ees the meanink of zis intrusion?!" she shouted.
"Sorry, lady," Fluey said. "I was chasing down a crook and he hid in here, so I followed him in and caught him."
"Vell, now that you caught heem, get out of my tent!" the gypsy shouted.
"Gotcha," Fluey said, and he dragged the hapless crook out of the fortune teller's tent.
The police arrived a few moments later to take the crook into custody, but the crook punched one of the officer's in the stomach as hard as he could and ran back toward the gypsy's tent. Fluey converted and charged after him, and managed to tackle him, but they both hit the gypsy's tent, knocking it to the ground.
"You again?!" the gypsy shouted.
"Sorry," Fluey said, shrugging. Coiley, Multi, Impossi-Pup, and the two cops ran over just then.
"What happened?" Multi asked.
"You okay, Fluey?" Coiley asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Fluey said, standing up, and pulling up the crook. "This guy's spirited, I'll give him that. Here you go officers."
"Thanks a lot, boys," one of the cops said.
"Come on, let's go," Coiley said. "We've got another set to go through."
"Right," Fluey said. "But first let me help clean up around here. After all, this mess is kind of my fault."
Fluey bent down and picked up a tin box from the ground. The gypsy yanked it out of his hands.
"Don't you dare!" she shouted. "I do not need your help! Leave here at once!"
"Kind of touchy, isn't she?" Fluey asked. Suddenly, Impossi-Pup sniffed the air, then turned to the gypsy and growled. She started barking, and then jumped onto the gypsy, knocking her off her feet, causing her tin to go flying. It landed on the ground, and the lid came off.
"Skittles!" Multi scolded. "You know better than that! Sorry about that, ma'am."
"Wait a sec, Multi," Fluey said, picking up the tin, and looking at it's contents. "Skits is onto something here. You know what's in here?"
"No, what?"
"Cocaine!"
"Cocaine?!" both Coiley and Multi shouted in unison. Several patrons had heard the boys and gathered around to see what was going on, and this included the two cops the boys had encountered earlier.
"Let me take a look at that tin, son," one of the cops said. Fluey gladly handed it over for him to inspect.
"Yep, it's coke all right," the cop said. Then the two cops began inspecting some other boxes and bottles the gypsy had laying around. Inside them, they found crack, marijuana, LSD, and heroin. They had also found nearly ten thousand dollars in cash.
"This definitely solves that drug trafficking case we've been working on," the cops said. Then he turned to the gypsy, but she had completely vanished.
"Hey, where'd she go?" Coiley asked.
"She probably split the scene when she realized we found her hash stash," Fluey said. Then he turned to the cops. "Do you want us to go after her, or . . . ."
"No, boys, you've done enough for one night," one of the officers said. "We'll comb the area for her. She couldn't have gone far."
"And besides which, we've got a gig to finish," Multi said, but loud enough for only Coiley, Fluey, and Skittles to hear him. The foursome walked off, did their quick change routine, and went back to the boardwalk to finish their concert.
However, the boys were unknowingly being watched, by that gypsy fortune teller they had exposed, and she was hopping mad. If it hadn't been for that dark haired upstart, the cops never would have found out she was trafficking illegal drugs. At least she knew what to look for to seek revenge. After all, she saw the boys change.
"It's your fault, you young fool," she said, and she pulled a vile out of her pocket. "I'll show you."
The gypsy then went to the other end of the boardwalk and waited, while the Impossibles played. They were supposed to do a couple of songs during a fireworks display, and it was already starting to get dark. The crowd loved it. Once the gig was over, the boys began packing up their stuff in order to hit the road.
"Grab that amp, would you, Fluey?" Multi asked.
"Sure," Fluey said. But just as he was about to pick up the amplifier, he was grabbed from behind. A hand covered his mouth to prevent him from calling for help, and he was dragged underneath the boardwalk. His assailant threw him onto the ground, and tied a piece of cloth over his eyes to blindfold him.
"Hey, what's going on here?!" he shouted. He was suddenly grabbed by his shirt collar, and pulled to his feet. Then, his attacker forced his mouth open, and poured the foulest substance Fluey had ever smelled and tasted down his throat. Then a hand was firmly clamped over his mouth to prevent him from spitting it out, and Fluey had no choice but to swallow it. The attacker let go of him, and took the blindfold off. But Fluey wouldn't have been able to get a good look at his attacker, even if he wanted to. Once he had swallowed whatever it was that was poured into his mouth, he began to feel dizzy, and everything was spinning. Without a word, Fluey collapsed to the ground, unconscious.