Let's Hit It
By: Ashley
Summary: This plays into the "Thrax is alive" thing. Our lovable villain has been arrested and put in jail for his horrendous crimes. Everyone else in the city of Frank is going crazy because of a new viral infection. So what do you do when your worst enemy has the most vital information?
Chapter 1
Damn, this was very uncool. The thought raced through Thrax's head as he felt fresh air enter his lungs. Air? He suddenly realized he was out of that damned alcohol and inside Frank's body once again. "Watch it, men, he's still alive and potentially dangerous," a voice said. Sounded like it was coming from overhead. Thrax could recognize it as Drix's voice. Damn him. Then another voice entered the hazy cloud of reality. "Yeah, he's defenitely going to need some medical attention." Jones. God, if only he could reach up with his claw and- "Hey, we're in no danger; it looks like his hand is completely disabled. Which translates to that he is no longer contagious," Jones added, sounding like he was smirking. Shit. It couldn't be. After the virus had worked so hard. "Let's get him some help, and then arrest his ass, like what should have happened long ago." The two authorities carefully lifted him from the small area where he was lying and loaded him into an ambulance of sorts, and he managed to open his eyes just enough to keep from blinding himself but able to see the other men. As they touched his still-sensitive skin, he summoned enough energy to make a nearly audible groan and curse. Jones looked down at him. "Wow, man, you lookin' weak." God, was that a snide edge to that comment? "Fuck you, Jones!" "That's one of your main reasons that you're in major trouble here, dude. Ain't your mama teach you to talk with respect?" "Leave my family out of this, bitch." "How about you shut up and save your energy?" "What for?" "You got a long-ass trial, man, and you's gonna need something to fall back on." Thrax glared at Jones. "You better watch it, cat, or I'll get right up and kick your ass, with or without the claw." Jones snickered. "I doubt that, seein' how I kicked your ass beforehand." "Them were all lucky shots. Now shut up, cat, I need my energy." With that, Thrax closed his eyes and decided not to say another thing until he absolutely had to. "That's what your stupid self shoulda been doin' in the first place!" Drix looked at his comrade and laughed. "You always have the last word, don't you, Jones?" Jones flashed a charming smile. "Of course, my man." Thrax just groaned and tried to ignore the two clowns. Then the real worrying began. What were they gonna do after he was officially arrested? No, it don't matter now, baby, cuz he had to get some medical help, ya dig? He knew he could come up with a plan. He always did. Because he was Big Daddy Thrax.
By: Ashley
Summary: This plays into the "Thrax is alive" thing. Our lovable villain has been arrested and put in jail for his horrendous crimes. Everyone else in the city of Frank is going crazy because of a new viral infection. So what do you do when your worst enemy has the most vital information?
Chapter 1
Damn, this was very uncool. The thought raced through Thrax's head as he felt fresh air enter his lungs. Air? He suddenly realized he was out of that damned alcohol and inside Frank's body once again. "Watch it, men, he's still alive and potentially dangerous," a voice said. Sounded like it was coming from overhead. Thrax could recognize it as Drix's voice. Damn him. Then another voice entered the hazy cloud of reality. "Yeah, he's defenitely going to need some medical attention." Jones. God, if only he could reach up with his claw and- "Hey, we're in no danger; it looks like his hand is completely disabled. Which translates to that he is no longer contagious," Jones added, sounding like he was smirking. Shit. It couldn't be. After the virus had worked so hard. "Let's get him some help, and then arrest his ass, like what should have happened long ago." The two authorities carefully lifted him from the small area where he was lying and loaded him into an ambulance of sorts, and he managed to open his eyes just enough to keep from blinding himself but able to see the other men. As they touched his still-sensitive skin, he summoned enough energy to make a nearly audible groan and curse. Jones looked down at him. "Wow, man, you lookin' weak." God, was that a snide edge to that comment? "Fuck you, Jones!" "That's one of your main reasons that you're in major trouble here, dude. Ain't your mama teach you to talk with respect?" "Leave my family out of this, bitch." "How about you shut up and save your energy?" "What for?" "You got a long-ass trial, man, and you's gonna need something to fall back on." Thrax glared at Jones. "You better watch it, cat, or I'll get right up and kick your ass, with or without the claw." Jones snickered. "I doubt that, seein' how I kicked your ass beforehand." "Them were all lucky shots. Now shut up, cat, I need my energy." With that, Thrax closed his eyes and decided not to say another thing until he absolutely had to. "That's what your stupid self shoulda been doin' in the first place!" Drix looked at his comrade and laughed. "You always have the last word, don't you, Jones?" Jones flashed a charming smile. "Of course, my man." Thrax just groaned and tried to ignore the two clowns. Then the real worrying began. What were they gonna do after he was officially arrested? No, it don't matter now, baby, cuz he had to get some medical help, ya dig? He knew he could come up with a plan. He always did. Because he was Big Daddy Thrax.
