If Agent Du is GJ's number one agent, what would the bottom of the bucket look like?

Disclaimer: Kim Possible and related are the property of Disney which, contrary to common belief, I do not own.


GJ's less qualified agents

"I'm not really sure about this," Kim said. The redhead was wearing a greenish grey overall, some light protective gear and a helmet with a faceplate, some of her red mane poked out from under the helmet.

"Don't worry," Dr. Director, the leader of the crime fighting organization known as Global Justice, said in a comforting tone. "This will be a great dodging practice for you.

The teen hero eyed the assembly of GJ trainee agents who were all equipped with a paintball gun. "You know, twenty of them might be a bit much."

"But you can do anything," Ron, Kim's best friend since kindergarten, offered, noticing too late that it wasn't very helpful.

"Please," Dr. Director asked, "I tried everything with this group. Maybe a moving and actively dodging target will get them to understand the level we need at GJ."

"They're not too smart, huh?" Ron remarked as he noticed one of the trainees peering straight into the barrel of his gun while his faceplate was shoved up on his head.

The leader of GJ sighed. "We had to change the instruction on the lids of the milk cartons in the cafeteria for this group. Now it says 'open at your table'."

Kim groaned. "Really? I mean, why do you even try to get these guys to work for GJ?"

Betty Director sighed again. "In order to get sufficient funds, we have a deal with the government. If the military gets stuck with a really bad batch of new soldiers, they send them off to us to try to get them at least to second class privates."

"That's just… wrong," Kim said.

"Well, you got to admit, they do need guys to clean the barracks and stuff like that," Ron replied.

"Sadly so," Dr. Director agreed, making Kim sigh and shake her head. "Look, sometimes the military is bound as well; if they can't fire them on medical accounts, they are forced to at least try them out. And, well… sometimes we are at the drainpipe of that idea."

"Okay, fine," Kim said in defeat, "if it means that much to you to deliver a batch that can at least parade and perform at a shooting range, I'll help. But you owe me big time."

Dr. Director smiled gratefully. "Thank you Kim."

"So… what is Will Du doing there?" Ron then asked.

Betty looked down, very embarrassed. "He offered to do two months of paperwork if he could participate."

Kim glared at GJ's leader. "Consider that favor doubled. I want a GJ hoverplane within ten minutes of request for the next ten missions, and I want a competent agent to fly them."

"Oh, and have it stacked with snacks and drinks," Ron added.

Kim looked at her friend with a slightly annoyed expression, but then she shrugged. "What he said."

Dr. Director relented quickly. "Consider it done."


Kim grinned as she got herself ready to face the group of trainees. As long as she could keep an eye on agent Du, she was probably safe; half of the trainees didn't even seem to know fully how the paintball guns worked. "They could always find a job as a henchman though."

The next couple of minutes might get a bit tricky, but having a certain and relatively luxurious ride for the next couple of mission was certainly worth it, not to mention the psychological reward if she managed to avoid any of Du's shots.


Agent William Du, number one agent of Global Justice, would normally try to avoid being associated with this bunch of idiots. But the chance to get Kim not only fail a test, but at the same time get completely covered with paint was too much a good opportunity to pass.

He had even bought his own set of bright yellow paint balls instead of the usual blue ones that Global Justice used just to show how many times he would manage to hit the amateur.

He and the trainees walked to the open area in the center of an obstacle course that would provide Kim with a tiny bit of cover. The redhead stood near one of the corners, ready to dart away at the signal.

"Is everybody ready?" came Dr. Director's voice over the intercom. "3… 2… 1… Fire at will."

Will Du's face paled when suddenly twenty paintball guns were aimed in his direction. He barely managed to get a single squeak out before the barrage began.


"Well… he did leave quite an interesting image," Ron said as he, Kim and Dr. Director stood in the training room.

They were the last ones there; agent Du was brought to the infirmary where paint was being removed from places where paint should never have entered. The trainees, after having had their actual training – the initiation of which had been slightly differently worded – had left as well; they would probably never make good soldiers if they kept attacking their allies like they did today.

"I highly doubt that he will appreciate it if we keep this as art though," Dr. Director replied, but she had to admit, the silhouette of a panicking person was captured perfectly on the floor of the training room in four directions, almost identical to the shadows of a baseball played in a lighted stadium.

"I feel kinda sorry for him," Kim said; except for some paint sputters on her shoes, her overall was completely clean. "I mean, he wanted to get a few cheap shots in on me, but what happened to him was just cruel."

"Not to mention the paint remains I'll keep finding on my reports for the next two months," Dr. Director muttered. When Kim shot her an accusing glance, she quickly corrected herself. "That paint is really difficult to get off completely, the last bits may even have to wear off instead of wash off."

Kim shook her head. "And you wonder why Ron and I don't want to become agents here."


Will groaned as he stepped out from under his fourth shower; the paint on his skin was not even distinguishable from his bruises anymore but the water kept turning blue.

"I'll get you for this…" Strangely, his comment was not aimed at Kim, or even Dr. Director.


"There's a madman out there," cried a paint-covered man as he stumbled into the police station.

The officer on duty stared at the small man who was covered top to bottom in yellow paint, which looked like it had come from a paintball gun. "What happened?"

"Some guy ran up to me and cried, 'this is for making deals like that' and then he started shooting at me."

The policeman frowned. "Do you have any idea what kind of deal he was talking about?"

"Not a clue," the yellow-painted man replied. "I don't do any kind of deal. And all I do at my work is transfer military personal to their appropriate location. Why, why would someone do something like this?"


A/N: I got this idea when I read the quote 'everyone, fire at will (poor Will)' and the plot bunny wouldn't leave me alone anymore. I hope you enjoyed it.