Throttle And The Odyssey-chapter 1

Time: 9 p.m. Place: Biloxi, Mississippi...

Cecilla Hawkings was having a bad day with one of her farmhands. Johnny had started off as promising and helpful a week ago. But now, he began demanding money and wanted to leave.

"Wouldn't be the first time they wanted to go." She thought.

No matter how kind she was to her help, it never was good enough for them. They always wanted to be free. She couldn't understand why. Didn't she give them anything they wanted? She bent over backwards to make them happy.

The day he decided to steal from her was the last straw.

She had just walked into her parlor to see Johnny standing in front of her bureau. She gasped. He turned around quickly to hold up a metal pipe getting ready to strike her with it. She saw the small metal box containing her money under his arm.

"I'm taking this dough, see? And I"m leaving!" He shouted.

"Of course, Johnny." She said, calmly as she plastered a polite smile on her face.

"You ain't gonna keep me caged up here like no animal! I'll come and go as I please!" He threatened.

"You're perfectly free to go anywhere you like." She replied, as cool as a cucumber.

He watched her approach him. Her long white dress stretching past her feet which sounded like fall leaves rustling on the ground.

"Don't try nothin'!" He cried out.

"Oh, do relax, will you?" She said, "As I told you, you're free to have anything in this house."

Johnny still eyed her suspiously.

"I never tried to hold you here against your will. In fact, have a drink to celebrate your newfound freedom. Here, try some of my blackberry cordial." She said, pulling out a silver tray with a crystal distiller and a glass.

She poured him a glass of the purple liquid. He cautiously took the glass from her and drank it in one gulp.

He then stumbled out the front door.

Suddenly, there was an agonizing scream. A sound of bones and flesh twisting and pulling was clearly heard.

"Help! Somebody, help me! I'm..." Johnny yelled. Then silence.

Miss Hawkings smiled a vicious smile. One that didn't reach her eyes. She went outside and picked up her money box.

"Too bad about Johnny. And I had such high hopes. Oh well." She thought, looking at it.

...

Time: 4 p.m. Place: Chicago, Illinois...

The Biker Mice were listening to some righteous tunes played on the radio by their favorite dj of all time, Sweet Georgie Brown.

Vinnie was chilling on his sweet ride drinking a root beer. Modo was waxing his bike

Throttle was relaxing in a deck chair.

Suddenly the music stopped. The mice looked up to see Charley holding up and swinging the cord to the radio. She had just unplugged it.

"Sweetheart, we were listening to that." Vinnie protested.

"Not anymore you weren't. You gotta see this." She replied, picking up the tv remote and putting tv. The news was on.

Reporter Tara Diddle, dressed in a blue suit dress and hooked to a mini microphone was interviewing Lawrence Limburger.

"And here with me is Chicago's Top Industrialist and Humanitarian Lawrence Limburger."

The latter looked at the audience and the camera with a plastered smile.

"Mr. Limburger has announced his plans to expand his business to Mississippi by opening up another business." She explained, "And what will it mean to the people of that state?"

"Why, my dear Miss Diddle, it means the creation of several jobs and necessary capital in their payroll." Limburger replied.

"That cheese log is lying through his fanged teeth! He plans to strip mine that whole state into a desert!" Throttle exclaimed.

"We ain't gonna let it happen!" Modo cried out.

"Awooo! Then let's go crash his party!" Vinnie crowed.

"Yeah!" Everyone cried, four fists in the air.

"Time for us to take a little road trip, brothers and sister!" Throttle chuckled.

...

And back in Biloxi, Cecilia was at the fair. Sheriff Trotter and Farmer Bill were passing through.

"I see Miss Hawkings won first prize for her pigs again." The sheriff remarked.

"Same as last year. I don't know how she does it, but she treats her pigs like they're her children."

"Congradulations, Ceceilla."

The dark-haired woman, arrayed in an ankle length pale pink dress and pink bonnet decorated with roses, turned around from the pig pen to face the newcomers.

"Hello, sheriff. Farmer Bill. Yes, I'm very proud of my babies." She replied, turning back to the pig pen to gaze lovingly on a large, brown pig. The pig walked over to two others.

"Pigs are wonderful! So easy to train, so easy to please." She sighed, happily while the two men gave each other a look she didnt see that plainly said that she was off her rocker.

"You ought to have gotten married, Cecilla." Farmer Bill told her.

"I would, except, no one has asked me. Besides, all I need are my pigs." She said.

"Speaking of them. What is that on that pig's shoulder? It looks like a heart tattoo with an arrow stuck through it. Didn't one of your ranchhands have a tattoo just like that?" Farmer Ben said.

"Johnny Dobbs. A fine boy, he was." Cecilla's happy face suddenly clouded, "Just up and left."

"The sixth ranch hand you've lost." The sheriff remarked.

"I know. It's a shame." She said, shaking her head, then brightening up, "But better days are on the horizon."

The two men saw her look away and towards something that got Cecilla's attention. Three bikers had just ridden by. A female companion rode with one of them. All three wore the oddest looking helmets they'd ever saw. Their motorcycles we're impressive as the sun reflected its rays on their gleaming bikes.

But that wasn't what got Cecilla's attention. They looked muscular like bodybuilders. Their ripped, and rock hard bodies got several admiring glances from her and other women at the fair. Some guys got jealous when they saw their girlfriends staring at the mysterious bikers.

"Looks like we got some admirers, bros." One of the bikers told the others, then proceeded to wave at them, "Who told 'em we were coming?"

"Rope it in, Vinnie." His lady companion told him.

"You ain't jealous, are you Charley-girl?" He asked.

"Don't insult me." She replied, as a faint blush shone on her cheeks.

"Remember, bro. We here to find Lardbutt." Throttle told him.

"Hey, Mousies, get those beaver teeth of yours over here! I got something for you!"