Author's Note:

Here's just a little drabble I've been working on (just to tide certain people over until the sequel :)

D.D.T.I.Y.A.F.W.A.F.G.N #4

(Don't Do This If You Are Friends With A Fat German Ninja)

Title: S.M.A.B.G.N.M.H.W.I.I. (Support Must Always Be Given – No Matter How Weird It Is)

It seemed like a normal day at the best-ever super-duper villain school in the world (didn't hurt that they had no rivals. Suspicious much?). 'Seemed' is the word to be taken note of here. It 'seemed' like a normal day.

Nigel Darkdoom glared at his friends. "We are all going. No excuses."

"What if I have homework?" said Otto Malpense slyly.

"Em…little thing called curfew?" asked Laura Brand.

The three turned to Wing. "What's your excuse, Wing?" sighed Nigel wearily.

Wing thought. And thought some more. "…I have a girlfriend."

"Not a viable excuse! Your girlfriend is involved in this debacle. She's Franz's manager," pronounced Nigel in triumph.

Laura and Otto groaned in unison. "And I thought that you would be a calming influence on her," said Laura, shaking her head at her fellow Alpha.

"And if you don't go," said Nigel with glee, "She will make sure that a little microchip in your head will make you hear 'It's a Small World' over and over again for the next month."

Otto turned to Nigel. "Where exactly are we campaigning to not go to?"

Nigel looked gravely at them. "To support Franz at the most important event in his life so far. Every July in Cavern B-12, a very, very prestigious event is undertaken by only the most disciplined, the most ambitious and the best food-lovers anywhere. AnUMaCC."

H.I.V.E.

Otto looked almost in shock at the hordes of students. "Remind me how I never found out about the Annual Underground Mass Consumption Contest."

Laura ignored him and peered at the programme "Apparently it was founded in the Alpine facility by a close cousin of Miguel 'The Beast' Falcone, who missed smashing his relative's records. The cousin later became a respected Henchman while Miguel became the world's first superstar in the world of mass consumption in eight nanoseconds and founded the Major League of Eating. Fascinating."

Wing just looked confused. "What link does Shelby have with this? I still do not understand."

'This' was Cavern B-12, home to AnUMaCC – a proud tradition of H.I.V.E.

Open to all streams, it helped students to bond; whether by betting on their favourite at the (illegal) betting marquee (controlled by the PoliFis of course), cheering the contestants (who ate on a raised dais above the crowd) or dodging the vomit of the undisciplined (just as wonderful as it sounds). Rumour had it that Nero didn't know it occurred but the clever ones realised that he just wanted the streams to socialise. A not-so-normal day in the life at H.I.V.E.

"Next up," came a chirpy voice over the loudspeakers, "is the American Exhibition! Bets can be placed at the marquee!"

Otto had a pained look on his face. "How did Tahir Khan, know about this before me? The SciTech who (no offense Nigel) smashed Nigel's record of being stuffed into the toilet last month? The student who is somehow the MC?!"

"Thank you for making me remember what being flushed down the toilet feels like, Otto," said Nigel sarcastically. "I'll have you know my weekly record has gone down to seventeen."

Wing was paying no attention to their squabbling (as usual) and kept on searching the crowd for Shelby (wasn't there someone else missing?).

Laura was still engrossed in the programme. "Hey! It says that Franz is the reigning champion in this section. Let's move to the front." When the others took no heed of her words, the Scot sighed in exasperation and towed Otto behind her as she moved through the crowd. Wing and Nigel followed (if only to continue squabbling with Otto).

The long stainless steel table on the dais was being quickly wiped down by a few gormless Henchmen, who were not above throwing leftovers into the crowd. Wing noticed a large puddle of tomato sauce dripping down onto the floor. At least he hoped it was tomato sauce.

Collectively, every student in the crowd (including the few guards that had sneaked in to put on bets) felt a pain in their stomachs as ten platters of the finest looking hot dogs in existence were placed on the table. Truly, the food of champions.

Laura turned to Nigel (after head-slapping Otto for stealing her programme). "How did Shelby become Franz's manager?"

"Would you believe me if I said it was from the goodness of her heart?" bluffed the bespectacled boy. "Judging from your glare no…he bribed her with a months worth of 'Embezzlement: Like I Know Where Your Money Is!' assignments."

The red-haired wonder looked confused. "But she said the other day she had to do the homework as norm in a fortnight…"

Nigel looked sheepish. "She may have bribed me with the other two weeks. Shelby thought I could bully you three into coming tonight."

Noticing the arrival of the contestants, Otto decided to be Franz's most fervent supporter. It's not like he had gambled two weeks of 'Politics Through the Ages' assignments on the German. "It's starting! Pay attention. You can glare at Nigel later, Laura."

Once again, Tahir Khan's voice echoed through Cavern B-12. "The American Exhibition is about to commence! Each contestant must consume the most amount of hot dogs in ten minutes. The fastest shall triumph while the undisciplined will be fed to Colonel Francisco's sharks!" The crowd roared in anticipation. This was the best fun since covering Nero in catnip and letting Ms. Leon loose (not to mention the infinite number of Nyan Cat posters with her head on them). Funny cat pictures are truly the lowest form of wit.

Trumpets blared as the audience welcomed the undisputed king of AnUMaCC. Franz Argentblum swaggered in, queen-waving everyone. Shelby Trinity was by his shoulder, whispering last-minute encouragements in his ear. The Major League Eater sat next to Cordelia Erikson, a PoliFi who was a mere whisp of a girl. She cracked her knuckles and pouted.

"COME ON!" screamed Shelby. "WHO THINKS FRANZ WILL WIN?" The crowd roared as one.

Wing turned to his friends. "…Three months together and I never realised she could incite a crowd so."

Laura shrugged. "She has strange talents."

Shelby continued screaming. "LET'S BRING THIS TITLE BACK TO THE STATES!"

The crowd was confused, their cries weakening. "Isn't Franz German?" asked Tahir tentatively.

There was a moment of silence. "BUT HIS MANAGER IS AMERICAN SO THAT IS JUST AS GOOD!"

The crowd, no longer confused, cheered as loud as ever.

"And they're off!" pronounced the MC. "And after two minutes, Franz has clearly taken the lead with…I'm flabbergasted…SEVEN HOT DOGS!"

The masses went wild. Shelby encouraged them even more. Otto just quietly gave ear plugs to his friends. Having a roommate/chainsaw came in handy.

Cordelia Erikson seemed to be Franz's only serious competitor approaching the final minute. Block and Tackle became synonymous with 'the undisciplined' as their earlier participation in the Great British Bake Off took its toll.

"…AND IT'S…IT'S…CORDELIA ERIKSON IN FIRST PLACE WITH 48 HOTDOGS AND FRANZ ARGENTBLUM JUST BEHINd BY THREE." The crowd went wild for the vertically challenged Viking. Some of Franz's more fervent supporters (like Otto) were close to tears.

The Alphas sighed. "So close," said Laura.

"And we didn't even get anything out of this," replied Otto, shaking his head. Nigel tried to edge away unnoticed.

Franz was seen hugging his manager and then congratulating the winner. He graciously accepted defeat (until next year, that is) when Cordelia shared first prize with him – indigestion tablets.

Nigel looked ill at ease, knowing that there was something he should remember from previous experience. They were right at the front next to the dais. Now what was wrong about that…

Wing gently pulled his girlfriend down to ground level. "That was very kind of you, Shelby. You were no doubt a great support to Franz."

She blushed. "Aw, thanks big guy. But we should move…"

Later, Nigel Darkdoom reflected that this had 'seemed' a normal day. It was different in that he now had two weeks free of 'Embezzlement: Like I Know Where Your Money Is!' assignments. It was different because he had a fortnight free of 'Politics Through The Ages' assignments' from betting on Cordelia Erikson.

But really, he thought as his angry fellow Alphas chased him through the volcano, covered in the stomach contents of the 'undisciplined', it was just any other day at H.I.V.E.

Author's Note:

Please R&R!

Cairdiuil Paiste