A/N: This is a response to Inuficcrzy's Quote challenge. This is slightly AU as I took some liberties with the original time line and layouts.
A/N: I own nothing but this plot. I do not own the Biker Mice, nor The Last Chance Garage, nor the Matrix. If I did they would not be off the air and stores will be filled with mice plushies, in varying sizes. On with the story
It was a normal day is Chicago for the Biker Mice from Mars. They were just returning from a victorious battle with Limburger with some help from Stoker, Rimfire and Carbine who were visiting the Bros and Charley. With Limburger out of commission for a while with the destruction the six Freedom Fighters had caused to the Plutarkian's tower, they were ready to put their feet up, figuratively speaking of course. But right now, they wanted food and were counting on their mechanic friend to have their dinner ready.
"Aooowwoooww! Charley, sweetheart, is dinner ready for the baddest mammajamma in the universe?" Vinnie yelled as he hopped off his bike.
"Why thanks for being concerned about my well being Vinnie, but you can just worry about yourself," Stoker chuckled, not missing the opportunity to rib his old student.
"Har de har har."
"I'm not smelling hotdogs, Bros." Throttle said has the group stepped through the doorway into Charley's living space. "But whatever it is it smells good."
"Hi, guys. How did it go?" Charley greeted as she finished opening odd white boxes that had a red building stenciled on the side.
"The tower is rubble, Charley ma'am," Rimfire answered as he eyed the containers with curiosity and apprehension. "Ol' Stink Bu-uh, Face was practically crying as we left." Correcting himself when his uncle gave him a reprimanding look.
"We should get a week of fun before we hear from him again." Modo added as he took an appreciative sniff from a box.
"Charley, babe, sweetheart, doll-face, where are the hotdogs?"
"Well, Vincent, since you've had hotdogs for practically every meal since you've got here, I thought it was time for a change." Charley said with an underlying warning in her voice.
"Thank the goddess," Carbine muttered, picking up a box with scrutiny. "What is it called," she asked her female friend and ally.
"Chinese."
"We're going to eat a Chinese person?"
"Vincent don't be weird." Throttle sighed.
"Nah, mostly it's just cat," Charley remarked offhandedly.
"Cat!" All six mice gasped in shock, staring at the Earth woman in horror.
"Yep, thought you guys might want some revenge on the Earth cats," she deadpanned, trying desperately to hide the smile that wanted to ruin her little joke.
"Charley-girl, I'm more tired than hungry right now. I think I'll just go to bed." Stoker choked out in an attempt to politely decline his friend's food. With that Charley burst out laughing, no longer able to hold it back.
"Relax. It's not cat. It's chicken, beef and pork, trust me, I know the owners. You guys are too easy," she wheezed out, wiping the tears from her eyes. "Now if you boys want to start handing out plates, Carbine and I will get the root beer."
"You kept the root beer," Vinnie sighed in relief.
"Of course, I don't want a revolt on my hands." Charley stated as the girls entered the kitchen.
With their hands full of root beer the girls went back out to the living room only to find a horrifying sight. "I don't know who told you other wise, but I assure you boys, they lied to you. Those most certainly do not go there. You can put those in this bag this instant; I will burn them after you leave! That goes doubly for you Vincent! That is disgusting." Charley admonished her male companions. "Those are called chop sticks. They are normally used to eat with, not for…that."
"What happened to forks and spoons?" Rimfire asked as he dutifully placed his ill-used sticks into the trash.
"The Chinese are known to use chop sticks as their eating utensils. Many people still use them here in the United States, but I haven't mastered that particular art, so I use a fork." Charley answered.
"It doesn't matter what planet they're from, men will be boys." Carbine stated handing Throttle his root beer and giving him the I-can't-believe-I-caught-you-doing look that women across the universe have mastered since the dawn of time.
"Okay, with that out of the way; I'll tell you have we got here." Charley announced, gesturing toward the food. "We have chicken chow mein, that's chicken with noodles. Beef chow mein. Moo goo gai pan, that's chicken with vegetables. That is sweet and sour pork, obviously pork in a sweet and sour sauce. Vegetable lo mein, it's vegetable and noodles in soy sauce. That one kung pao chicken it has chicken mixed with peanuts and vegetables. My favorite is General Tso's chicken which has a spicy sauce. Beef chop suey consists of beef, cabbage, celery and bean sprouts all mixed together. And for dessert, my absolute favorite, fortune cookies!"
"That's quite a haul there, Charley." Modo said looking at the groaning table of food.
"Not if I'm feeding all of you, big guy. Dig in."
After her Martian friends had finished their meal, Charley hauled out her coup de grace. "Alright, mice get ready for dessert." Hearing the d-word, all thoughts of a quick nap vanished from the minds of her off-world visitors. Reaching behind the chair, Charley pulled out a bag filled with oddly shaped pastries. "May I introduce to you the fortune cookie," she said with the flourish of a game show host.
"The what?" Rimfire questioned.
"You break it in half and read the slip of paper inside of it; your fortune. Sometimes you get a good one, but most of the time they can be quite silly." Charley instructed, handing one to each mouse and dumping the rest on the cleared table. "Let me demonstrate." Ripping open the wrapper and breaking her treat in half. "Life is like a fortune cookie, you never know what you're gonna get. That is so true, especially since I met you guys."
"You welcome," Throttle chuckled and ripped his open. "Help! I'm a prisoner in a Chinese bakery." Blinking at the paper twice, he shook his head and popped the pieces into his mouth. "Alright Vinnie, open yours."
Vinnie, being Vinnie, put to much force on his cookie and broke it into dust. With an apologetic grin toward the human girl, he read out loud, "don't let your mind wander – it's too little to be out by itself." That of course sent the entire group into hysterics, except himself that is.
"That's priceless," Stoker rasped out when he could finally breathe.
"We-we should fr-fr-frame that!" Carbine stuttered, trying to get off the floor, breathe and talk at the same time.
Modo being the first one to calm down, opened his cookie, 'Do not upset the penguin today.' "Well good thing Limburger's a fish."
"Bacteria is the only culture some people have," Stoker read.
"Yep, that's you coach," Vinnie snickered.
Cracking her open, Carbine read, "Love is like a fortune cookie, it has its ups and downs." Sharing a look with Throttle, "So true."
"It's kinda fun to do the impossible. Yes it is," Rimfire said, slipping his fortune into his pocket.
"There is a game to this as well." Charley said with a smirk, opening another cookie. "You can play this with most fortune, but there are some that make this game exceptional. Take this one for example; you are talented in many ways. You would then add…in bed at the end."
"Sweetheart, I didn't know you had it in you," Vinnie said with a smirk after a moment of silence. The rest of the group was still staring at her with their mouths hanging open. Grabbing another cookie, Vinnie read the fortune. "Flattery will get you far tonight…in bed. Charley, why don't you take a break tonight and I'll clean up. He said, not missing a beat."
"Forget it, destucto-boy."
Shaking his head, Modo read his next, "Never wear your best pants when you go to fight for freedom. Sounds like someone knows my mama."
"Grandmama, would say that," Rimfire agreed. "The early bird gets the worm, but the second…mouse gets the cheese? Who writes these things?"
"This one's good, a woman who seeks to be equal with men lacks ambition. I'm keeping this one."
"A starship ride has been promised to you by the galactic wizard. Well, it's about time he paid me back." Everyone just stared at Stoker, but did not question him as there are some things in the universe that should not be asked.
Having reached the end of their game, Throttle open the last one, "You are the chosen one."
"Whatever you say…Neo." Charley chuckled, imaging the mouse dressed in tight, black leather and saving the world.
A/N: I am going to leave it up to you, the readers, to imagine what our furry heroes were doing with the chopsticks. Whether your minds are sick and twisted or just down right weird and disgusting. Read free, citizens!