Here's another quick one-shot that popped in my head a couple of days ago. I hope you enjoy it!
"How close is the Duck to the oven, Wizard Lizard?" I whispered into my earpiece.
"400 yards, max. Estimated time, two minutes." I peeped through my binoculars to see the raccoon walking down the cobblestone path, a blue smudge in a small population of pedestrians. Everything was perfectly planned; very little foot traffic, with most people asleep at this hour of the morning. Perfect, if you're trying to get the one raccoon that walks this path every morning. "Oven preheated?" the turtle asked.
I glanced to the mechanism controls to the right of me. Bentley had set up the entire thing faster than a ninja, and twice as covertly, in the dead of night. Sometimes I wonder how he can do that.
He had set it up inside the stone archway; that was our trap. A pressure pad set below the arch activated what Bentley coined as 'The Drencher'. A little known fact... actually, not so little known... anyway, Sly hates water. Really hates it. Won't even touch the stuff unless it's in a glass. And The Drencher, one of my favorite doodads that Bentley whipped up in the lab, is better than a thousand of the world's best super-soakers. With fifteen-gallon water canisters secretly put into false stones of the arch, if there was a spot that Sly wouldn't get drenched, Bentley'd be surprised; hence the name.
"Preheated, and ready to go."
"This is gonna be goooood," Bentley said with a laugh. I switched a button on the Drencher controls, turning the pressure plate on. I was grinning with excitement, I couldn't wait to see that smug face washed right out of him! And it didn't look like I'd need to wait for long. "Prepare for Roast Duck, Wizard!" I said, running across the arch for a better look before he could see me. I hopped down to ground level, and ducked behind a building for cover, peeping my head out at the last second. And I was SO glad I did!
"GAH!" Sly sputtered. His arms flailed and flopped as he tried to get out of the way of the water, but everywhere he ran the arched tunnel was shooting water. Sly turned to avoid one blast, to get another right in the face! He made a mad dash to escape, but he slipped in the puddle before he could make it out! I almost exploded laughing! Finally, with dozens more slips and slides (don't worry, Bentley safety-proofed the area), he made his way out of our watery death-trap, gasping for air. He leaned on the wall of a building to prop himself up, exhausted from the shock.
By the end of all that, I was on the floor.
"...Gregory." I heard him mutter under his breath. I didn't care though. He did what I assumed to be stomping away, sloshing with every step. I couldn't breathe!
...Then I felt drops of water hit my face. I looked up to see Sly, with a face red enough to make steam come out of his ears. The angry gleam in his eyes shut me up quickly.
My smile ran for the hills as he was glowering at me. "I'll give you five seconds to run." He growled.
"Ack! Out of my way!" I shouted to the Parisian pedestrians in my wake. I didn't have time to feel bad for them, as I looped around through the streets. The raccoon chasing me wasn't so formal to acknowledge them.
"Get back here, Gregory!" Sly kept growling, sloshing as fast as he could.
"Bentley!" I panted into my communicator, "A little backup, please?!"
He couldn't hear me, of course; He was too busy laughing his head off, joined by Murray.
"Traitor!" I said as I turned onto another street.
"Gregory, get back here!"
"NO!" I shouted back to Sly.
"GREG!"
"I regret nothing!"
"Oh," he said with a laugh, "You'll regret plenty when you just stop running!"
"NO!"
Here's a little tip to everyone: When you're planing on pranking Sly Cooper... be ready to run. A lot.