The Mall
In a moonlit suburb of Corneria City stood a strip of small businesses, crammed together into one monolithic building that extended for nearly a quarter mile. In the center of the complex, the door to a restaurant named Giovanni's Pizza opened. Fox and Falco stepped out of the building, with the latter of the two holding a massive pizza box in his feathered hands while Fox fished his keys out of his pocket and unlocked his nearby truck.
Climbing into the spacious cabin, Falco slid the pizza box onto the dashboard above and to the right of the steering wheel and shut the door. Fox clipped on his seatbelt, then noticed the box's precarious position. "You know, you should probably keep that thing on your lap or put it in the back seat. I just shined that dashboard yesterday. It's really slick."
Falco gave him a dismissive wave and retorted, "Pfft. Yeah, whatever. It'll be fine up there. It's too hot for me to put on my lap. Don't worry – I'll keep it from falling off." At that moment, his phone chirped, indicating an incoming text message. While Fox started the engine and inched out of the parking lot with his right eye on the pizza box, Falco reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.
1 message from 'KittyKatt.'
"Aw crap," Falco moaned. "This is probably because I left the towel on the floor in the bathroom again."
As he feared, Katt's message reflected his negligence. "Ugh, Falco! U left ur towel on the bathroom floor with your skid mark-covered boxers again! Srsly, how can u liv with yourself? r u retarded?"
Cringing, he tapped his phone screen in an effort to make the fastest response possible. His feathers made that a difficult prospect. "Sorry babe! I was late to a team meeting. You know how Fox gets when I show up late."
Seconds after sending his message, his phone chirped again with Katt's second text salvo. "The hamper is 2 feet from the shower. The towel rack exists 4 a reason, dumbass. U kno what? I r gon kick u out of my apartment tonite. Good luck, featherbrain!"
As Falco scrambled to fire off another text, the road ahead took a sharp left curve. As Fox had warned, the pizza box began to slide farther to the right. In mere seconds, it would drop off the dash and fall open, splattering steaming hot pizza all over the passenger door sill, the seats, the carpet, and Falco.
Fox saw Falco, absorbed in his relationship crisis, and realized that if he did nothing, he would be cleaning pizza sauce out of his floor mats for half of tomorrow. Holding the steering wheel with his left hand, he leaned forward and swatted at the pizza box, just out of reach. He pushed himself forward another inch, causing his seatbelt to lock. Nevertheless, his fingers closed on the edge of the box, and he pulled it back to safety.
But he had no time to celebrate. As his eyes returned to the road, he realized that he had made a grave mistake. While trying to grab the pizza box, he had misjudged the turn. The end result amounted to him barreling straight towards a cluster of trees off to the right side of the road. He wrenched the wheel to the left and slammed on the brakes, all to no avail.
The shattering of glass and the smashing of metal filled the night air as Fox plowed into a particularly robust oak tree.
- § -
Two days later…
Fox frowned and leaned back in his armchair that sat in the corner of the Star Fox team's house's living room. The large TV screen on the back wall broadcasted a daytime rerun of a popular sitcom, but his eyes lingered on the new cast that adorned his left hand.
Sigh.
Ever since his car wreck, tensions between him and Falco had arisen; and now that his left hand was broken, he had no choice but to recuperate and stay out of action for a month – at the very least. Still, he figured that his injuries could have been much worse. Then again, if Falco had placed the pizza box in a more secure location, he wouldn't have wrecked to begin with.
Angry thoughts filled Fox's mind again, but they retreated when Krystal walked into the living room with Slippy behind her. A sad, understanding look radiated from her eyes as she approached Fox and knelt next to his armchair. Kissing his injured hand, she murmured, "I feel awful for you, Fox. We all do. Is there anything special we can do for you to make you feel better?"
Fox sighed and stroked Krystal's cheek. "Not that I can think of. I just want my hand to get better so I can get back to work. I'm so ticked at Falco right now – we had three jobs lined up, but he had to put the stupid pizza on the dashboard and text Katt instead of making sure that it didn't fall off.
"I was trying to save my relationship!" Falco shouted from the next room over.
"Well, how did that turn out for you?" Fox barked.
His voice dour and disappointed, Falco answered, "Not too well. She kicked me out of her apartment again."
Fox shook his head, then lowered his voice to speak to Krystal. "I'm sorry you had to hear that."
"I would be the same way if I broke my hand because of that nimrod," Krystal whispered into his ear. "But don't be too hard on him – he's really sorry. In fact, it was his idea for the three of us to try to compensate you for your injury."
Fox gave her a curious expression. "By doing what?"
"That's a surprise," Krystal grinned. "We'll be back in a few hours. Take care of yourself, Fox."
"Does it look like I've got another option?" Fox grimly asked.
Shaking her head, Krystal left the living room and walked into the kitchen, where Falco and Slippy stood near the refrigerator. Neither of them seemed to be in a good mood, especially Falco. From his looks alone, Krystal could tell that he felt completely responsible for Fox's broken hand – mostly because he was.
"All right, you two – are you ready to go?"
"Yeah sure," Falco mumbled. "I'd do just about anything to get away from McGrouch for a few hours."
"I heard that!" Fox shouted from the living room.
Slippy shook his head and pointed at Falco. "Man, you've got your work cut out for you. Fox is pissed."
"Shut up. Tell me something I don't know," Falco grunted, snatching his car keys off the key rack near the door leading into the garage. "We'll take my car."
While he opened the door, Krystal crossed her arms and asked, "Why don't we take mine instead? The back seat in your car is a joke."
"Oh ho ho! No way, Blue," Falco retorted. "Sorry to say it, but your driving is flat out terrifying."
"It is not!"
"If that's true, then why was Fox clutching the dashboard for dear life the last time you drove the team around?"
"I could never figure that out," Krystal replied, irritated by Falco insulting her driving abilities. "I'm sure my driving had nothing to do with it."
Falco chuckled. "Well, that just proves that denial is more than just a river in Egypt."
"What's Egypt?" asked Slippy.
"Hell if I know," Falco replied. "C'mon – let's go. Slippy, you take the back."
"Of course," the amphibian groaned. "Pick on the short guy, as usual."
- § -
After leaving the development that contained Star Fox's house, Falco pulled his blue sport coupe onto one of Corneria City's massive highways and headed towards the city center. Krystal sat to his right in the passenger's seat, while Slippy fought to keep his legs from going numb in the tiny back seat that was better suited for golf clubs than a person.
"So…where are we even going?" asked Falco.
"Seriously?" Slippy snapped. "You don't know?"
Krystal picked at her black v-neck t-shirt and looked out the window at the buildings that lined the highway. "I suggest the Grande Cornerian Mall. We'll have plenty of options there."
"The mall – pfft!" Falco spat. "I know what you want: you just want to go there so you can pick up another designer handbag that matches your adorable new shoes."
Baring her teeth, Krystal pummeled Falco's shoulder and shouted, "Falco, shut up! No wonder Katt hates you!"
Krystal's comment seemed to pacify Falco, albeit in a searing, hollow, silent way. "Fine. We'll go to the freaking mall."
From the back seat, Slippy added, "Yeah, that's a good idea. It's really close, too."
"Why does that matter?" asked Falco.
"Because I can't feel my feet back here!"
Krystal rolled her eyes. "See, Falco? This is why I should have driven."
"On second thought, maybe it's not so bad back here after all," Slippy recanted.
Falco snickered.
Krystal pounded his shoulder again.
His upper arm and right shoulder in pain, Falco pulled off the interstate and turned onto an overpass that led to the massive, sprawling Cornerian mall. A half mile of asphalt stretched around the complex in all directions, yet many of the seemingly innumerable parking spaces looked to have been taken.
"Damn – what kind of national holiday is this supposed to be?" he wondered out loud as he pulled into the parking lot and searched for a parking space.
"It's a popular mall," Krystal stated.
From the back seat, Slippy quipped, "Hey Krystal – I think Fox is starting to brush off on you ever since you started spending more time with him."
"What do you mean by that?" the vixen demanded.
"You're starting to state obvious things that everyone already knows."
Krystal showed her teeth to Slippy. "Hey! I was just saying that it's a popular mall."
"We can see that," Slippy replied, pointing out Falco's windows at the sea of vehicles surrounding them.
Crossing her arms and assuming a pouty expression, Krystal scowled and told Falco, "Just find a place to park already. You two are really starting to test my patience."
"Fine, fine," Falco grunted. "There's a spot over there right next to the front doors."
Slippy stared at the solitary parking space and commented, "Um, Falco, that's a handicapped spot."
"Handicapped, handicrapped," Falco chuckled. "No one's going to care, but if it bothers you enough, I think I saw a few parking spaces back there that said 'Reserved for vixens with PMS.'" He winked at Krystal.
Instead of punching Falco again, like he expected, Krystal unbuckled her seatbelt and opened her door while the car was still in motion. While Falco attempted to pull into the handicapped space, Krystal sauntered towards the mall's front doors with no intention of slowing down.
Looking around to make sure that no one had noticed him pull into the parking spot, Falco shut off his car and helped Slippy out of the back seat. The amphibian flopped out of the vehicle; almost face planting on the pavement. Still, in his mind, it beat having to endure Krystal's driving.
He jogged towards the mall entrance as Krystal stepped inside. Pushing the door open, he burst into a wide hallway that led into the mall's three-level core. Escalators and a single glass-covered elevator ferried mall patrons from floor to floor. Near the center of the lowest floor, several ornamental fountains sprayed ornate plumes of water into the air.
Slippy caught up with Krystal and walked alongside her while Falco barged through the entry door behind them. Hearing the avian's footsteps, Krystal turned to Slippy and asked, "Has he always been this annoying?"
"You have no idea," Slippy answered. "You should have seen him when he was new to the team. I almost quit because of him."
"I'm not surprised," Krystal murmured. "Let's just hope that I can get through this without punching him in the face."
Panting from exertion, Falco sprinted to catch up with his two teammates and said, "I know we're trying to make this quick, but I haven't eaten lunch yet. I'm going to need to go to the food court before I do any shopping."
Krystal narrowed her eyes. "If you do that, does that mean that you'll stop bothering me?"
"Well, you know what they say – 'you're not you when you're hungry,' so yeah, probably."
Rolling his oversized eyes, Slippy commented, "In your case, you're more you when you're hungry. I haven't eaten, either. I'll go with you."
Acknowledging her own hunger, Krystal mumbled, "Same here. What kind of food do they have in this place?"
Falco brought his hand to the bottom of his beak and stroked it as if an imaginary goatee had started growing in its place. "Hmm…there's a great pizza place, a hamburger booth, Aquas seafood, and I think they just put in an Eladardian food restaurant."
At the mention of Eladardian food, Slippy's eyes widened. A ghostly, terrified frown appeared on his face. "Yeah, I think I'll stay away from that one."
Falco chuckled, while Krystal remained in the dark as to why he thought Slippy's reaction was humorous. "Is there something wrong with it? Fox has been trying to get me to try it for a while now."
"It's…um…interesting," Falco replied, smirking. "It's really sweet and spicy, and it has a lot of seasoning on it. I dunno – you might like it."
"It sounds like what my people ate on Cerinia. I think I'll try it out."
Although he said nothing, Slippy stared at her with a look of frozen horror.
"Slippy, why are you looking at me like that?"
Slippy's face returned to normal, and he exhaled a deep sigh. "It's…it's nothing. Just some bad memories, that's all. Don't let that stop you. It tastes great, but…" he trailed off.
"But what?" asked Krystal.
"It's nothing," Slippy affirmed, waving her off.
The three walked towards a nearby escalator and boarded it. As they ascended to the second floor on the way to the third-level food court, a solitary figure stood out from the crowd of mall-goers, following Star Fox's every movement – especially Krystal's. A roll of duct tape in his hand, he smirked and thought to himself, "There's no way to escape this time, Krystal. Finally, I will have you."
- § -
On the third floor, Falco, Slippy, and Krystal debarked from the escalator and laid eyes on the vast food court. Tens of patrons stood in line at the various restaurants, sat at tables spread about the area, or simply leaned against the numerous support pillars that held up the ceiling.
Slippy nudged Falco. "Hey, what are you getting?"
"I'm feeling like getting something from Burger Empire," he answered.
Krystal stuck out her tongue in disgust and commented, "Ugh! I don't know how you can eat that garbage."
"Hey – it's more real than most fast food is," Slippy retorted.
Falco placed his hands on his hips and asked Krystal, "Since when did you become a foodie? I was starting to wonder why Fox started eating that organic crap a few weeks ago. Heck, he even made me get a gluten free pizza for the team's movie night last Friday! This is your doing, isn't it?"
"I'm not a foodie, Falco!" Krystal snapped. "Unlike you, I care about Fox's nutrition! You're a bad influence on him."
An eye roll sufficed as Falco's response. "Uh huh. So, what you're saying is that protein is useless and that the best way for your stud muffin to get ripped is to eat salads, quinoa, and kale?"
"Absolutely!" Krystal yipped.
Falco began inching away from Krystal, holding up his hands and retreating as if she posed a threat to his very existence. "Okaaayyy…come on, Slippy. Let's get away from the crazy vixen."
"I'm not crazy!"
"No – you're just really misinformed," Falco replied.
Scowling, Krystal watched as Slippy and Falco entered the line for Burger Empire. She frowned in disapproval at the sodium-drenched food that they would doubtlessly be ordering. At the same time, she felt grateful that Fox had succumbed to her health-conscious ways and would not be eating any of that 'disgusting' food any time soon.
She spotted the kiosk for the Eladardian restaurant and stepped into the line behind five other patrons. Compared to the other restaurants in the area, the Eladardian kiosk seemed to attract more business. A quick look at the low prices for the food explained the phenomenon. In addition, the dishes pictured on the overhead menu looked somewhat nutritious, with various kinds of meat, rice, and steamed vegetables mixed together with curry and other seasonings on top.
Still, her recollection of Slippy's horrified face concerned her. She would have to get to the bottom of this, but not until after trying out one of the few interplanetary cuisines that she had never tasted before.
After two minutes, she reached the front of the line and placed her order for something called 'Curry-Infused Rainbow Chicken and Rice with Special Sauce Bowl.' After she paid for her food and waited while the kiosk workers prepared it in the back room behind the counter, a slender koala with a 'Royal Eladard' shirt slid a plastic bowl in her direction. The dish looked and smelled delectable, but something seemed 'off' about it. Nevertheless, Krystal picked up the bowl and moved over to the nearby utensil station, where she gathered a few napkins and a plastic item that looked like a spork with a serrated handle. To her dismay, it seemed that the 'sporfe' was the only utensil available.
Gripping the odd implement and wondering what kind of hallucinogen its inventor had been tripping on when he created it, she sat down at a nearby table in the center of the food court. A brief moment later, Falco approached her and dropped into the seat on the other side. He placed his 'Burger Empire' bag on the table and pulled out a massive cheeseburger dripping with melted cheese, mushrooms, and onions.
Krystal tried to ignore his food and instead bit into hers. The instant the curry-covered entrée entered her mouth, her eyes widened in response to its intense heat and flavor that, while spicier than most dishes she had tried, was still tolerable enough to enjoy.
"So, what do you think?" asked Falco.
"It's interesting. I like it. Something doesn't seem quite right with it, though."
Falco took a bite out of his burger and mumbled, "That's probably because it's artificial."
Krystal nearly choked on her next bite. "It's what?"
"Well, you know, since Eladard is just one huge city that doesn't have any farmlands, they had to figure out a way to make their food instead of growing it. Don't worry – it's not bad for you. Well…that might be stretching it a bit. At least it's not terrible for you."
"Thanks for that information, Falco," Krystal sarcastically remarked. "What happened to Slippy?"
Falco leaned back in his seat and pointed towards the distant Burger Empire counter where Slippy stood, tapping his foot on the floor and staring at the counter with crossed arms. "He got the chicken fingers. It's going to be a while."
"I see," Krystal murmured. "Shouldn't it bother you that he's about to eat one of your relatives?"
"Pfft. No way," Falco sneered. "He and you can eat chicken all you want – I don't care." He paused to reflect on a painful experience from the past and added, "I went to a chicken farm once. Those evil birds tried to peck my eyes out when I went to pet them. Nasty little things. I hate 'em."
Krystal lowered her eyes and continued eating her Eladardian food, but she stopped when her sporfe's serrated handle dug into her hand as she speared a piece of meat in her bowl. "This spoon…fork…knife thing is so stupid!" she snapped. "What were they thinking when they came up with this?"
"They were probably thinking of how they could save a few extra pennies by ramming all three kinds of plasticware into one," Falco mumbled, his mouth full of food.
The vixen sighed and looked at the sporfe in her hand. At that moment, she caught a glimpse of someone familiar out of the corner of her eye. In a flash, the person was gone; but her telepathy pinpointed his identity. "Oh no," she groaned.
"What is it? Did you leave something at the house?"
"No," Krystal whispered. "Panther is here."
Falco put down the tiny fragment of cheeseburger that he had yet to eat and looked around the area, but he failed to see anyone who looked like Panther among the swarm of mall-goers in the food court. "Just perfect. What do you think he's doing?"
"Stalking me," Krystal answered with a gloomy, dread-laced voice. She paused for a moment, then said, "We should get out of the food court."
"What about Slippy, though? He hasn't even gotten his food yet," Falco protested.
Krystal glared at him. "He'll catch up eventually. Right now, we just need to get away from that...monster…that I'm somehow enthralled with."
"Wait – what?"
"Nothing, nothing!" Krystal affirmed. "Let's go. There are a few stores in that corner over there that might have some nice gifts we can buy for Fox."
Falco directed his eyes into said corner and frowned. "Um, the only stores I see back there are an Elizabeth's Secret and a Bathscapes outlet. Because Fox is totally into scented baths."
"Shut up!" Krystal griped. "I'll convince him to like them eventually. Let's go over there."
Rolling his eyes, Falco ate the last of his cheeseburger and stood up. "Fine – whatever you say. But you know, I think you're getting too pushy with Fox."
"What do you mean by that?" Krystal asked, standing up and throwing her empty food bowl into a nearby recycling can along with the abominable 'sporfe.'
"Well, first, you're making him eat hippie food; second, you're trying to get him to like watching romantic comedies; and third, you're trying to make him interested in scented baths. I mean, what's next? Telling him to grow a man bun and dress like a preppy college student?"
"I didn't know Fox could grow hair like that," Krystal replied. "But now that you mention it, that's a great idea!"
Vehemently shaking his head, Falco shouted, "No, no, no! That's a terrible idea! You see? You're forcing your will on him."
"I am not," Krystal declared. "I'm just trying to improve the quality of his life. He's already thanked me for it several times in the last week."
Falco reached out and grabbed Krystal's arm. "Listen here, Krystal. I think you're missing something. Believe me – I know Fox. Let me cut to the chase here and tell you that he's just going along with you because he wants to get into your pants."
Krystal gasped. "No! Fox is better than that!"
Falco snickered and rolled his eyes in response. "Sometimes, yeah; but underneath it all, he's a guy. Ultimately, he just wants to get it on."
"Ugh," Krystal sighed, "Maybe you're right." Not wanting to discuss her relationship with Fox any further, she changed the subject and asked, "Why was Slippy giving me that strange look over the Eladardian food? That was creepy."
"Oh, that," Falco laughed. "It's kind of messed up, but hey – you asked for it. Do you remember your first night on the Great Fox? After we all ate together, Slippy ran out of the room and disappeared for almost an hour; and for the next two days, Fox and Peppy had to close the bridge bathroom. To put it simply, there was an unopened package of extra hot Eladardian food in the pantry, and he decided to eat tons of it to celebrate Fox's mission on Sauria. I think you can guess what happened afterwards."
The reality took a few seconds to set in, but when it did, Krystal contorted her mouth and yelped, "That's disgusting!"
"You're not kidding! I'm the one who walked in on the aftermath! I think it had something to do with the 'special sauce' they put on the Eladardian food."
Krystal groaned and started walking towards the back corner of the mall's third floor. "I'm sorry I ever asked you about that." She looked over her shoulder and noticed Slippy frowning as the distance between him and his teammates grew. It was a price she had to pay, though. Her telepathy still felt Panther nearby; and although she did not see him, she knew that he was watching.
"Stay close to me," she whispered to Falco. "If you're in the area, Panther won't try anything."
"Got it," the avian replied. "Really though, wouldn't it be easier just to punch the crap out of him?"
"It would, yes," Krystal admitted, "But I don't want any of us to get in trouble for punching an 'innocent' person. You know he would give the rozzers some kind of excuse if we beat him up."
Falco frowned. "You're right; but I'm telling you, if he gets close to you, he's going down."
"Please don't do anything stupid, Falco – although I'll admit that I would love to see you punch him in the face. I'm sure the readers would, too." She winked at the nonexistent camera.
After a minute of walking, Falco and Krystal arrived in front of Bathscapes and Elizabeth's Secret. To the left of both stores, a previously-unseen business appeared. It looked like a toy store of sorts, but with a more mature air that appealed to adolescents and adults as well as children.
While Falco looked into the toy store, Krystal walked into the fragrance-heavy Bathscapes. Since he had no intentions of following her into the admittedly feminine shop, he stomped around near the entrance. However, after he had made sure that Krystal was not watching him, he walked to the right and stared at the laminated photographs printed on the two entry columns of Elizabeth's Secret. In particular, the spread on the left caught his male gaze. The picture showed a red vixen with straight, black hair and sky blue eyes reclining on a mattress, wearing a lacy, sheer pair of lingerie with a seductive, pleading look on her face.
Locked in a trance, Falco was oblivious to the set of boots walking up behind him. He jumped when a soft hand alighted on his shoulder. When he turned around, he found himself face to face with the same vixen, who, instead of underwear, wore a black and red catsuit. "Busted."
Falco's face turned purple for a moment. "Uh…what are you doing here?" he stuttered.
The red vixen seductively walked her fingers along Falco's shoulder and answered, "Can't you see? I'm trying to make it into the official character cast. I'm getting so close, I can taste it." She licked her lips for effect, then grinned and turned away from Falco. "Catch you later," she said, stepping onto a nearby escalator and disappearing from sight.
Falco watched as she rode down the escalator, then turned around and walked towards the toy store. "I'm close enough to Krystal to keep Panther away. I mean, this shop is right next to the one she's in. It won't hurt to take a quick look in here…"
He stepped into the store, replete with electronic noises and quiet dance music that emanated from the speakers in the ceiling. In the corner of the store, he spotted a display for a remote controlled drone with a night vision camera. On the shelf on the other side of the store, above the cash registers, stood over twenty boxes filled with remote controlled cars, including some that possessed the ability to hover.
As he looked around the store, he wondered if he had found the perfect place to buy his appeasement gift for Fox.
Yet, at the same time, he failed to notice Krystal's plight outside the doors.
- § -
Carrying a small plastic bag filled with bath scents that she had purchased, Krystal tossed her purse over her shoulder and began walking out of Bathscapes. Suddenly, a searing pain shot through her stomach, causing her to grimace in agony. At that moment, Falco's words from a few moments earlier echoed through her mind.
"…Something to do with the special sauce…"
"Oh no," she gasped. "Not now!"
With a hand over her stomach, she hobbled out of the store and set foot on the glossy gray tile outside. To her horror, her worst nightmare stood twenty feet in front of her.
Panther.
With no one else in the immediate area, the black feline grinned at her and brandished a roll of duct tape.
"No! No!" she screamed, hoping to attract someone's attention. "Falco! Help!"
"Ha…that bird won't be coming to help you this time," Panther purred, taking two slow steps towards her. "Finally, I will have you; and together, we will validate the pairing of Panther and Krystal and show XxSanitariumxX how it's done. Oh, how I've waited for this."
In the blink of an eye, Falco leaped out of the toy store with an orange and yellow Nerf SAW in his hands. Lining up the plastic 'iron' sights, he unloaded a volley of darts at his opponent. The foam missiles screamed towards Panther, striking him with a series of slapping sounds. To his – and Panther's – shock, the barrage of foam bullets prevented the cat from moving. Every time a round struck him, he twitched uncontrollably and uttered a cartoonish grunt.
"Ugh! Oof! Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! Yeow! Oof! Ugh! Hey! Ugh! Ugh! Oof! Blegh!"
Krystal noticed her window of opportunity and sprinted away from the confrontation. In the process, her sandals slipped off of her feet as she ran.
"Run, Krystal! Run! I'll hold him off!" Falco shouted while continuing to pelt Panther with foam darts.
"Oof! Hey! Ow! Blegh! Blegh! Blegh! Ugh! Oof! Yeow! Ugh! Oof! Yahooey!"
With a belt full of 'bullets,' Falco knew that he would not run out of ammunition any time soon. Even after Krystal disappeared into a distant bathroom on the opposite end of the mall floor, he continued firing at Panther. The more rounds he fired off, the larger his smile grew. Unfortunately, his glee masked his ears to the sound of rapid footsteps behind him.
"He's got a gun! Take him down!"
Falco released the trigger and whirled around, only to be decked by an overweight gopher wearing a white and black mall security outfit. The obese rodent body slammed him to the ground. In the process, his Nerf SAW dropped from his hands and snapped into two pieces on the floor.
Panther used the opportunity to take off running – after Krystal, of course.
With the overweight mall cop on top of him, Falco struggled to regain his breath. Then, the gopher pushed himself up and stood next to his counterpart – a lanky coyote who looked far less interested in Falco and his orange plastic gun than his cohort did. In the most condescending voice that he could bring to bear, the gopher spat, "The nerve of you, bringing a gun into the mall! How dare you?"
"Dude, chill!" Falco snapped. "It's just a Nerf gun!"
The chubby cop gasped. "See? You've admitted it yourself! It's a gun – a lethal weapon of violence and destruction! I can't understand why anyone would ever consider owning such a horrible thing! I'm going to need you to come with us."
Falco looked at the coyote next to the overweight officer and noticed him rolling his eyes. Nevertheless, he motioned for Falco to follow him and said, "Come on. Pick up your 'gun' and come with us."
- § -
After escaping a brush with death at the hands of Falco and his lethal assault weapon, Panther rejoined the teeming masses of vapid shoppers in the mall. His mind set on Krystal, he followed her footsteps across the third floor, all the way into the corner opposite from the toy store and Bathscapes. As in the previous area, few people wandered about, meaning that his plan to abduct Krystal still held water. In the corner were two bathrooms, one for each sex. As nonchalantly as possible, he scooted towards the wall near the entrance to the women's restroom and leaned against it. She would have to come out at some point, he figured. So, with his resolve made up, he waited.
For seconds.
For minutes.
For more minutes.
For altogether too long.
After twenty minutes had elapsed, he let out an exasperated growl and wondered if her telepathy had alerted her to his presence outside, and thus prompted her to camp out in the restroom until his patience wore off. He looked around. No one seemed to be looking. Ever since he had taken his position on the wall, he had not seen anyone enter or leave the restroom, which gave him more confidence about his new plan. Collecting himself, he stepped into the bathroom, only to come face to face with a 'big-boned,' middle-aged skunk who looked none too happy about his presence.
She froze in place, glaring at the black feline with hate-filled eyes. Then, she shouted, "Oh, hell no!"
Panther had no time to prepare himself for the woman's furious attacks. A bare fist struck him in the nose, after which came a violent kick to the crotch that crippled him on the spot. Powerless to strike back –wait, did he actually consider doing that? What a turd. Anyway, he crumpled to the floor in a ball and covered his head in a vain attempt to keep the skunk lady from pulverizing him into oblivion.
To his unspeakable relief, the attacks stopped a moment later. To his unspeakable horror, it was because a burly female rhino in an official police uniform had walked up behind him and brought the curb-stomping to an end. "Let me guess," the officer grumbled, speaking to the skunk lady, "This gentleman was trying to sneak into the ladies' bathroom, wasn't he?"
In a desperate plea, Panther blurted out, "I identify as a woman! I've done nothing wrong!"
The rhino officer smirked. "Nice story, bud. But sadly, it appears there are over three outstanding warrants for your arrest. Looks like your luck's run out this time, pussycat."
With that, the officer picked Panther off the floor, handcuffed him, and dragged him off. The skunk lady followed the two of them out of the bathroom, leaving it unoccupied with the exception of Krystal, who at the moment had another problem besides Panther.
- § -
Meanwhile, Slippy had finally received his chicken tenders at Burger Empire and located a seat nearby. Angered by the ridiculous amount of time it had taken for the restaurant staff to prepare his food, he sighed, pulled his food out of its bag, and started eating it. Catching up with Falco and Krystal would have to wait for a few more minutes.
"Not like it really matters. They can't have gotten far," he thought. He dunked one of his chicken tenders into a packet of honey mustard and munched on it, ignoring the fact that his toothless mouth should have made that impossible. Then, his phone chirped from inside his pocket.
"I'll bet anything that's either Falco or Krystal."
He put down the remainder of his first chicken tender and pulled his phone out. Krystal. Swiping his finger across the screen, he answered the call. "Hello? I'm still in the food court, if that's what you're calling about."
Through his phone's speakers, the blue vixen's voice sounded distressed and humiliated. "No, that's not what this is about. I have a…uh…problem. I need your help."
"Sorry, but you're going to have to wait a few minutes," Slippy replied. "I just got my food. Thanks for running off, by the way."
"We ran off because Panther was stalking me! It wasn't safe in the food court. He's gone now, though. I don't know what happened to him, but I can't feel his thought patterns anymore."
Slippy giggled. "His thwooot pattuns?"
"Slippy, stop it! This isn't the time for jokes! I'm in serious trouble here!"
"Okay, okay!" Slippy snapped, abandoning his jocular speech. "What's the problem?"
"It's…um…it's nothing, really," Krystal explained, although she sounded far from honest. "I just need one small favor from you."
"What's that?"
Krystal's response sounded like the verbal equivalent of a megalithic cringe. "I need you to buy a size 4 pair of shorts somewhere in the mall and then…take them to the women's bathroom on this floor."
Slippy exploded in laughter, although a small part of him felt sorry for Krystal. "And now you see why I hate Eladardian food!"
Due to the volume level of his response, the koala behind the counter at Royal Eladard overheard him and in turn flipped him off.
Somehow, Krystal managed to sound even more embarrassed than before. "No, Slippy – it has nothing to do with the food. I swear!"
"If you say so," Slippy replied, grateful that Krystal could not see him rolling his eyes. "I'll get those shorts for you. Give me a few minutes."
"Thank you so much. You're the best."
Sliding his phone back into his pocket, Slippy smirked and shook his head. "I tried to warn her."
He finished his food, then threw away his bag and sought out the nearest clothing store. For the most part, the food court dominated the shops on the third floor, but he thought he saw a suitable clothing outlet on the floor below him. With no time to lose, he rode the escalator down to the second floor. All the while, he wondered what had happened to Falco. After all, it made little sense to him as to why Krystal had called him for help when Falco was presumably close to her.
On the second floor, he strolled into the clothing store that looked like it catered towards youthful consumers and style-conscious buyers. Edgy, modern designs bedecked the shelves and displays, complimenting the stark black and metallic gray theme color scheme on the walls. The store was so fashion-forward that Slippy felt embarrassed by his dull yellow t-shirt and black shorts.
A few other shoppers sorted through the clothes, arranged into a men's and women's section, on the left and right, respectively. On top of his pedestrian appearance that made him feel uneasy, his need to go through feminine clothes to find what Krystal wanted only augmented his awkward situation. He knew that Krystal could be extraordinarily choosy when it came to clothing, so he feared that he would inadvertently pick a style that she despised.
"Would she do this for me?" he thought to himself. "Probably not. But I'm a nice guy, so I'm going to help her anyway."
He looked over his shoulder to make sure that no one's eyes were upon him. Then, when he had determined that only the store's security cameras had noticed him, he rifled through a stack of colored shorts on a display table until he saw one with a tag with a number '4' on it. Looking over his shoulder again, he pulled out the article of clothing and looked at it warily. He did not recall ever seeing Krystal wear red, and he had a feeling that there was a reason for that. Nevertheless, he had no time to waste.
He carried the red shorts under his arm and walked up to the checkout counter, manned by an effeminate weasel with spiked up black hair and tight-fitting clothes that looked like they had come from one of the display stands inside the store. The clerk gave Slippy an odd glance until he placed the red shorts on the counter.
"No offense, but I don't think those are going to fit you," the clerk opined with a faint lisp.
Slippy's face took on a faint red complexion. "Oh, these aren't for me. They're for my…uh…girlfriend."
"Oh, that's wonderful!" the weasel exulted, his eyes brightening. "You must be so lucky to have someone who doesn't shame fat people."
Slippy froze. Over a period of three seconds, his dismayed expression transitioned to one filled with anger. "Are you calling me fat?"
"Oh, no!" the weasel affirmed. "I was just saying that your girlfriend must be a wonderful person since she clearly loves you for who you are and not for what you look like."
Raising an angry eyebrow, Slippy muttered, "In other words, you're calling me fat. Well, if you want fat, I'll show you fat! Bazinga!" With that, he pulled his shirt up.
The clerk shrieked, covered his face with his hands, and darted out of from behind the counter.
"My eyes! My eyes!"
He made a break for the store exit, but Slippy had no intentions of letting him escape that easily. Pounding his stomach as he ran, he pursued the scrawny weasel until the latter raced out of the store and into the mall's common area. At the exit to the store, Slippy stopped and pulled his shirt back down. He watched the clerk continue running until he became a distant speck on the opposite side of the mall. Then, he smirked and walked back into the clothing outlet.
After finishing his transaction with the help of the only other employee left in the store, Slippy paid for Krystal's shorts and carried them out in a plastic bag. "Krystal had better pay me back after this is over, because that about cleaned out my wallet! 65 credits for a pair of shorts? Who charges that much for something like that?"
Clothing bag in hand, he ascended the escalator to the third floor and located the women's restroom. Even though he found Krystal's predicament humorous in a way, he knew that she would expect him to take his knowledge of it to the grave.
"Maybe that's why she called me for help instead of Falco," he thought.
As he neared the bathroom entrance, he pulled out his phone and called Krystal. She answered within seconds. "Hello? Slippy? Do you have what I need?"
"Yeah, I got them. I'm going to need you to pay me back later, though."
"Fine, fine," Krystal replied. "Are you anywhere near the bathroom?"
"I'm right in front of it."
"Oh good! Here, just come to the entrance and hand it to me." The sound of a stall door opening filtered through Slippy's phone.
As if he had known about Panther's fate, he looked around the area to see if he was clear. Then, he darted towards the bathroom entry and rustled his bag at the edge of the corner that prevented anyone outside from being able to look into the restroom. Krystal poked her head out from behind the corner a second later and snatched the bag out of Slippy's hand. "Thank you so much, Slippy. I owe you one. Please, don't tell anyone about this – not even Fox."
Slippy nodded his head and took a step backwards. "Do you want me to wait for you outside?"
"No," Krystal answered. "We'll meet up where we came in when we all have our gifts for Fox."
A sigh of relief escaped Slippy's lips as he exited the bathroom and reentered the main chamber. He leaned against the side wall for a moment, but then his phone rang again. This time, his caller ID indicated an incoming call from Falco.
He snapped his phone out of his pocket and answered. "Yo, what up?"
Falco's voice reeked of frustration. "Slippy, I need a little help here. I shot Panther with a Nerf gun to keep him away from Krystal, but some nut-job mall fascist saw me do it and hauled me into his office. He's been ranting to me for fifteen minutes about how my plastic gun is a menace to society! I got him to let me use the bathroom, so I've only got…oh crap, gotta go. Help me! Bye."
The call ended on Slippy, leaving him with no choice but to slip his phone back into his shorts pocket and wonder if he had any chance of extricating Falco from his predicament. He looked out at the mall ahead of him and wondered where the mall security station was located. He had a hunch that it was somewhere on the bottom floor, but the last thing he wanted was to roam around the entire mall, not finding Falco until the bird had managed to escape mall security's slimy clutches on his own.
Shaking his head, he walked towards the nearest escalator and rode it down to the second floor, then to the ground level. His eyes scanned the floor, looking for anything resembling a police badge or something similar to one. In a distant corner of the ground floor, tucked into a dimly-lit alcove, stood the security station.
Slippy began crossing the floor while absent-mindedly looking out of the corner of his eye at the elaborate fountains in front of the mall's sole elevator, only for a massive kangaroo wearing a white t-shirt and camouflage shorts to leap in front of him out of seemingly nowhere. In the blink of an eye, the marsupial whipped out a metallic gray canister and sprayed both of Slippy's wrists with a fragrant liquid before he could comprehend what had happened.
With Slippy in a fog, the kangaroo waved the gray bottle in front of him and asked, "Oi! How are you doing today?"
Slippy coughed, trying to recover from the sudden spraying that he had received. "I think I was doing all right, but then…"
"Oh, but never mind that!" the kangaroo interrupted. "What I've got here is a stainless steel bottle of Puccini fragrance for men – guaranteed to make your little sheila as wild and frisky as can be. Normally, this stuff sells for 50 credits, but I've got special connections. Because of that, it can be all yours for only 30. Come on – it's the deal of a lifetime!"
Slippy gave his wrists a quick sniff. He had to admit that the random kangaroo's cologne actually smelled kind of decent. At the same time, he saw a golden opportunity to buy his present for Fox and get the hell out of Dodge.
"You know what? I'll do it," he told the kangaroo, pulling out his wallet and handing the peddler three plastic chips worth ten credits each. "You just saved me a lot of trouble."
"Glad to help," the kangaroo smirked. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got some more business to take care of." Without another word, he hopped away, laughing all the way to the other end of the mall, where he disappeared.
Slippy cocked a wary eyebrow and looked at the gray bottle of cologne that he had purchased. It looked legitimate, down to the precise 'Puccini' engraving on the side and the silver-trimmed 'P' on the cap. "Well, that was a lucky coincidence," he thought. "Now to get Falco out of trouble."
- § -
Inside the security office, Falco sat in a flimsy plastic chair on the opposite side of the gopher security officer's desk. His broken Nerf gun lay atop the table, and the overweight rodent looked like he wanted nothing more than to sacrifice it to appease the gods of public safety.
"I still can't understand why anyone would want to own a gun, especially you," he growled, pointing his fat index finger at Falco. "Oh, the nerve! Here's a question for you: what's responsible for 99% of all gun-related deaths on Corneria? That's right – guns!"
Falco maintained a stone-faced, displeased expression. "Wait – where did the other 1% go?"
"Don't question the statistics!" the mall cop roared. "Here's another question for you, wise guy. Who killed Chickadee?"
Falco paused for thought. He cupped his right wing/hand/thingymabobber under his beak and stared at one of the fluorescent ceiling lights as it flickered on and off. Then, he leaned forward, holding his hands in front of him with his palms facing each other. "Aliens," he replied.
"No, you idiot! It was guns!"
"And that is an incorrect plural," Falco scoffed.
The security officer did not seem to find his captive's grammar suggestion humorous. Clenching his teeth, he snapped, "Why, I oughta…"
Suddenly, Slippy burst through the door at the back of the office and stood next to Falco's seat.
Not to be interrupted, the gopher looked at Slippy with narrowed eyes and demanded, "What are you doing in here? Get out! On second thought, don't! I need to instruct you on the evils of guns like this one here!" He pointed to the broken Nerf gun on the table as if evil incarnate dwelt within its cheap plastic shell.
Without a word, Slippy slowly raised both of his arms and extended them outwards in front of him. Then, he lifted his thumbs and stuck out his index fingers, creating a duo of finger guns which he aimed at the obese security guard.
"No! Don't shoot! Please!"
"Bang," said Slippy, pulling back both of his finger guns to simulate recoil.
The gopher's eyes widened. He stumbled backwards as the invisible bullets struck him. Yet, Slippy showed no signs of mercy.
"Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!"
As he alternated firing both finger guns, the security officer twitched and flailed about. He flopped backwards, slamming into a large industrial printer in the back left corner of the room. As a result of the collision, the papers in the feed at the top of the printer flew out, scattering themselves all over the floor. Yet, Slippy had not finished. He switched to machine gun fire.
"PPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPT!"
At that point, the office's side door opened. The coyote officer from earlier entered the room and noticed his counterpart lying on the floor with his back against the oversized printer. In spite of how ridiculous the scene in front of him looked, he kept a straight face and asked the gopher, "Jenkins, what in the actual hell happened here?"
"I'm dead! I'm bleeding all over the floor!" the gopher gasped.
The coyote crossed his arms and rolled his eyes before he turned his attention to Falco and Slippy. "I'd like to apologize for Jenkins being an idiot. You can leave now – just don't shoot anyone else with that thing." He pointed to the Nerf gun on the table.
"Yeah, like that's going to happen. You know, you ought to pay me back for breaking that thing literally fifteen seconds after I bought it," Falco grumbled.
"Nah," the coyote replied, giving Falco a headshake. "Just put some Super Adhesive on it and it should be fine."
Falco scowled at the officer and picked up his broken plastic gun. Slippy opened the door for him and ushered him back into the main mall area, then closed the door behind him once outside. Looking at the snapped 'gun,' Falco mumbled, "Thanks for helping me out. I owe you one." He paused, then opined, "Man, I'm itching to get out of here. You got any Super Adhesive at home?"
Slippy chortled. "What? Are you actually thinking about giving that to Fox as his gift?"
"Yeah…I am. Look – I just want to get out of here. After everything we've had to deal with so far, it would be better for Fox to chew me out than to have to walk around in this place for another hour."
Slippy nodded his head and replied, "We still have to wait for Krystal. She said she was going to try to find him another gift."
"Great," Falco scoffed. "What happened to her anyway? I lost track of her after I shot Panther."
"I don't know," Slippy answered with a shrug.
"But you just told me that she told you that she was going to buy another present for Fox."
"I told you, I don't know!" Slippy snapped.
Falco took a step to the side, away from the amphibian. "Fine – you don't have to be so pissy about it. Let's go wait at the entrance until she's finished."
- § -
For twenty more minutes, Falco and Slippy lounged on a pair of benches near the doors that marked their original entry point. Falco held his broken Nerf gun on his lap, while Slippy stared at the bottle of cologne in his hands. He slowly drifted off into a waking trance, oblivious to everything around him until a flash of blue appeared nearby.
Both he and Falco sat up as Krystal approached them, wearing the pair of red shorts that Slippy had bought for her. "Sorry for taking so long. I had to make sure I got Fox the perfect gift." She reached into one of her two plastic bags and pulled out a pair of aviator sunglasses.
Falco frowned, realizing that his present would likely look more like a joke than a legitimate gift. So, instead of congratulating Krystal on finding a good present for Fox, he pointed at her new shorts and commented, "You see – that is the reason why I didn't want to come here to begin with. You just can't help yourself!" His expression abruptly changed to one of confusion. "I thought you didn't like red, though."
"Oh…um…they were on sale, and I wanted to try something new," Krystal flailed, her face turning a deep shade of purple.
"They were on anything but sale," thought Slippy.
Falco gave his head a subtle shake and stood up. "Whatever. Next time, try something new on your own time. Some people value theirs, you know."
In all honesty, Krystal wanted to leave the mall just as badly as Falco did, so for him to chastise her on the issue of time infuriated her. Still, she managed to ward off an outburst by biting her lip and walking towards the exit doors. Falco and Slippy followed her out of the mall into the mid-afternoon air, and then into the parking lot where Falco had parked his sports coupe.
Upon reaching the car, Krystal stopped cold and dropped her bags. A furious grimace materialized on her face. After over an hour of sitting in the handicapped space, Falco's car sported a shiny new accessory – a bright yellow wheel clamp, complete with a phone number for the Corneria City police department that he could use to call and have the clamp removed for a hefty fine.
Krystal turned to Falco as he and Slippy walked up to the car and noticed the clamp. "What a pillock! Why did you park here? You knew this could happen!"
Putting his hands on his hips, Falco retorted, "Yeah, but I didn't count on you going on a shopping spree in there and making us wait for twenty minutes!If you had just gotten in and out like we did, this wouldn't have happened." He pointed to the clamp and clutched his head in desperation. "Well, now we're going to have to wait here for another half hour while the police department sends out someone to unclamp my car."
"Good luck with that," Krystal scoffed, walking away from the car. "I'll see you at the house. Come on, Slippy. I'll call a Liftcar."
Slippy followed her lead, leaving Falco to mull over his fate next to his clamped car. In merely two minutes, a black sedan pulled up to the curb in front of the mall and picked up his teammates. As the vehicle turned out of the mall parking lot and disappeared from view, Falco grunted and kicked the clamp on his wheel in a fit of anger, only for a searing jolt of pain to shoot through his foot. Hopping on one leg and cursing obscenities, he waited for the police to arrive and present him with a clamp key and a parking citation.
- § -
After paying for his parking violation and having the clamp removed, Falco sped back to Star Fox's team residence and pulled into the driveway. Reaching into the tiny back seat, he pulled out his broken Nerf gun and climbed out of the car. Upon entering the house through the kitchen, he found Krystal and Slippy already inside, placing their presents into a pair of gift bags. When he entered the room, both of them smirked at him.
He pretended not to notice and instead asked, "Do either of you know where I can find the Super Adhesive?
"It's in the second drawer," Slippy answered. "Hurry up – we're about to surprise Fox."
Without a word, Falco darted towards the drawer and opened it. He spotted the tiny bottle of glue and ripped the cap off, then set to work repairing the broken toy gun. Once finished, he placed it on the kitchen counter and attempted to put the cap back on the glue bottle. In the process, one of his feathered fingers slipped, causing the ultra-sticky adhesive to bond with his hand. He tossed the bottle back into the drawer while flailing his hand and grimacing.
"All right – it's go time," Slippy announced.
While Falco picked up the Nerf gun with his glue-covered hands, Slippy and Krystal walked through the door leading into the living room just as Fox entered the room from the other side.
"Oh, hey," said Fox. "What do have here?"
Krystal held up her bag and replied, "We felt bad for you, so we bought you some gifts. Come on – open my bag!"
A small smile appeared on Fox's face. He looked into Krystal's eyes, then reached into her gift bag and pulled out a small bottle of scented bath soap. As soon as he realized what it was, his smile turned upside down. "Um…bath soap? I mean, I'm not going to say no, but I don't take baths."
Krystal paused for a moment before an idea crossed her mind. It made her feel uncomfortable, but she could not think of another way to get Fox to approve. "Well, maybe you'd like to take one with me later."
Fox's eyes widened; and as usual for him, the tips of his ears flashed red. "Uh, yeah! That's a great idea!"
"Hey Fox, why don't you see what I got you?" Slippy spoke up, attempting to diffuse the increasingly awkward feeling in the room. He pulled the top of his gift bag open, allowing Fox to reach into it.
Fox nodded when he pulled out the elegant stainless steel cologne bottle and recognized the prestigious branding on it. Wondering what it smelled like, he sprayed his wrists with it. A second later, his smile vanished again. "Slippy, this smells like water mixed with dollar store air freshener. Where did you get this?"
His face downcast, Slippy answered, "Some guy at the mall sold it to me."
"Makes sense. You know what? You can have this one back."
Slippy's eyes fell to the floor. "Wow, gee Fox. Thanks."
Pretending that he had not just insulted Slippy's kind gesture, he looked across the living room and into the kitchen, where Falco looked to be picking up a bulky, orange item. "I wonder what that's supposed to be," he wondered out loud.
"Heeeere's Johnny!" Falco bellowed from the kitchen.
A second later, he marched through the door linking the kitchen and the living room and held out the giant orange toy gun. He took a single step towards Fox – only one because the instant he took said step, the adhesive holding the Nerf gun together gave way. The front half snapped off and plummeted towards Falco's shoeless right foot, already sore from kicking the ever-loving crap out of the clamp on his wheel. The chunk of plastic crashed down barrel-first onto the center of his foot.
Falco stopped in his tracks and howled in pain, but his pain turned to anger in mere seconds. Ignoring his throbbing foot, he dropped the rear half of the gun and stomped on it multiple times. "Dammit! Dammit! Dammit! You stupid son of a…GAH!" With one final kick, he kicked a chunk of the now-eviscerated gun against the wall and stormed out of the room.
For a moment, the only response Fox, Slippy, and Krystal gave to Falco's actions was a trio of arched eyebrows; but when Falco left the room, all three of them burst out laughing.
"Oh, man – that was a better gift than what he was going to give me!" Fox wheezed. "Wait – was he really going to give me that thing?"
Slippy chuckled and peered at the shattered plastic gun out of the corner of his eye. "You'd better believe it."
Fox rubbed his eyes and snickered, only for Krystal to hold out her gift bag to him again. "Fox, there's something else in here. I promise that you'll like it."
Judging from the previous three gifts, Fox had little faith that the second item in Krystal's bag would be anything that interested him. However, as his fingers closed in the pair of aviator sunglasses inside the bag, his attitude changed. He pulled out the glasses and stared at them for a moment, then looked at Krystal with an expression of shock. "Really? You bought these for me? You didn't have to."
"Oh, but you know how much I love doting on my little Foxie," Krystal replied with a grin. While Fox continued to stare at his new sunglasses, she pulled them out of his hand and slipped them over his eyes. "But that's not all. I've got another gift that I'll give you later." She gave him a suggestive wink.
Fox had a feeling that he knew what she had in mind – and it involved a bed, a sultry blue vixen, and a complete lack of clothing.
Except that wasn't what she had in mind at all. Maintaining her contagious grin, she explained, "I booked a table for me and you at your favorite restaurant." When Fox gave his broken hand a nervous glance, she patted his shoulder and whispered, "You don't have to worry about anything – I'll drive."
Fox's eyes went wide.
"NOOOOOOOOOOO!"