For the Cobra Fan Club's "Cobra Kids" Contest, I decided to write this little piece. It didn't place in the top 3, but still made a good showing, so I decided to post it here as well.
Set somewhere at the beginning of the Sunbow Cartoon episode "Gray Hairs and Growing Pains"; Dr. Mindbender decides to test out the de-aging formula delivery system on some unsuspecting subjects while Zartan wonders if restoring them to their proper ages is really worth it.
As usual, I do not own the characters and locations presented in this work of fanfiction; those belong to Hasbro.
Acting Their Ages
Zartan stood off in the corner of the small control room while Doctor Mindbender fiddled with the control nobs on an instrument panel. In the next room, the Dreadnoks had been herded in with the promise of gold and a fresh box of donuts if they sat in there until the mad scientist told them they could leave. The five of them were grumbling amongst themselves about the wait time, some more quietly than others. Thrasher was going to find his payment for this job was far less than that of his comrades just because he couldn't keep his mouth shut, Zartan decided.
"Now to see if the steam delivery system works." Mindbender spoke up, flipping a couple of switches and pressing down on a blue button. There was a crazed gleam in the other man's eyes, one that made Zartan very glad he'd managed to talk the scientist out of using Zandar and Zarana as test subjects instead. The Dreadnoks as temporary toddlers would be a minor inconvenience, but there was a high probability that either one of the twins would be needed as part of Serpentor's latest plot. Besides, he flat-out didn't trust Mindbender. Not after the face-stealing business.
The Dreadnoks were expendable; his siblings were not.
A white mist poured out of the overhead conduits, flooding the room on the other side of the viewing area. The Dreadnoks looked around in confusion, griping loudly about its presence. The gripes changed to roars of outrage as they began to shrink, body hair and muscle mass all disappearing as they became smaller. By the time an elated Dr. Mindbender stopped the mist-makers in the steam room, the gang of rowdy bikers had been turned into a group of small children. The emphasis was on the 'small' part; they all looked to be somewhere between four and seven years old.
"The delivery system and the formula are both working perfectly!" Mindbender exclaimed. "They have been turned into child-sized versions of themselves!"
"Yes, but how long until they revert back to their true ages?" Zartan asked. Although he often compared the Dreadnoks to a group of unruly children, he certainly had no interest in taking care of a group of unruly pint-sized Dreadnoks.
"Oh, the aging serum delivery system is not quite ready for testing." The scientist dismissed the mercenary with a casual wave. "It may be another two days before we can test it."
"Two days?" Zartan snarled. What kind of moron didn't have both systems ready for testing when he got around to the testing phase of a project? "Can't you just feed the aging serum through the steam-vents?"
"No, the aging serum is administered through radiated light particles." The scientist corrected. "Unfortunately, the light particles haven't been cooperating well, and the tests on rats have yielded some gruesome results. Until I have it perfected, it cannot be used."
"And what am I to do with your test subjects in the meantime? Drop them off at a daycare?" The Australian growled.
"That is none of my concern. You are their employer." The bald man shrugged. "Just get them out of my testing area; there is more work to be done."
"Yes, and you had better pray it is finished soon."
"I want a soda!"
"I want donuts!"
"He's touching me!"
Zartan pinched the bridge of his nose as the group of pint-sized Dreadnoks clamored for his attention. What the hell was he supposed to do with five children? "Silence!" He ordered, smiling as they all immediately stopped talking. "No, you cannot have donuts and unless you are paying for it yourself, you cannot have soda either. And whether or not he's touching you is none of my concern!" He growled at Buzzer and Thrasher, who had been the source of the 'he's touching me' complaints. "Settle it amongst yourselves."
"What the hell happened?" He groaned at the sound of his sister's voice. No doubt she would find this amusing and refuse to help out.
"The good news is that Mindbender's new de-aging serum works splendidly." He drawled, not batting an eye as he swatted Ripper's grasping hand away from the knife sheathed at his waist.
"Let me guess, he hasn't got the age-accelerating stuff ready for testing yet." She rolled her eyes, eliciting a sigh from her older brother. "He should have bloody well waited until that was done to test the other one. How long until he gets it ready?" She asked, leveling a glare at Buzzer when he had the audacity to stick his tongue out at her. Normally, she preferred not to have anything to do with kids…but Buzzer wasn't really a child. Just a very immature grown-up in a child's body. She could still whack him in the back of the head and not get in trouble for it.
"Two days. Torch! Don't put that in your mouth!" Zartan hissed, noticing the redheaded Dreadnok about to stuff some chewing gum found under the table into his mouth. The pint-sized troublemaker pouted, tossing the pre-chewed gum onto the tile floor.
"Ooh. Have fun with 'em." She shrugged, turning on her heels and walking toward the doorway.
"Where the hell do you think you're going?" He grumbled. "You have a job to do here!" He gestured wildly to the small bikers, who were all snooping through various cabinets and drawers. A blast of cold air at his back alerted him that someone had opened the refrigerator door. "Thrasher!" An indignant snort met that accusation, causing the Dreadnok leader to frown. "Close the damn door this instant!"
"No, I don't. Last I checked, paying and keeping up with the village of idiots was your job." She smirked as Thrasher slammed the refrigerator door shut, dislodging something on the inside, if the resulting clunk was any indication. "Try not to let 'em blow the base up, will ya?" She smirked, sauntering out of the room just as Ripper started climbing up on the break-room table.
"Ripper, get down from there! We do not climb on the tables!"
"Yeah, we eat off of those tables!" Little Buzzer shouted, scrunching up his face in disgust.
"Can we wrestle with the alligators, Zartan?" Torch asked, looking up at the mercenary with the most pitiful puppy-dog eyes he could muster.
"No, you may not. They would bite you in half!" Although, it might not be a bad thing; it would at least rid him of Thrasher…
"Aww." The redheaded child pouted.
"What the bloody hell is this?" It would figure that this would get his normally quiet brother to talk. Zartan groaned.
"This is what happens when Mindbender doesn't get all his test products ready on the same day. Thrasher! Either sit down or get out of the chair!"
"No!" Thrasher looked particularly ridiculous in an oversized t-shirt, but none of his regular armor would fit his now six-year-old frame. He stomped his foot on the metal folding chair he stood upon.
"Get down from there this instant!" Zartan growled, not at all in the mood to deal with that particular Dreadnok's continued insubordination.
"Make me!" The pint-sized troublemaker folded his pudgy arms across his chest.
"As you wish!" Thrasher realized his mistake too late, allowing Zartan plenty of time to lift the Dreadnok off the metal chair and drop him on the tile floor with little more than an indignant squawk from the stripe-haired kid.
"How long until the bungler actually gets the aging formula ready?" Zandar eyed the impromptu wrestling match between Ripper and Torch warily as he spoke.
"Two days, he says." As long as the two Dreadnoks weren't breaking anything, Zartan was content to let them fight.
"Think he'd get it done faster if we sicced them on him?" It was a decent idea. "If that doesn't work, we can always just turn them loose in the swamp for a 'camping trip'."
Either way, he wouldn't have to look after them for a while. "That's not a bad idea, Zandar." Honestly, he was surprised that the childish bikers weren't begging him to take them to Disneyworld yet. "Torch, Ripper, break it up!" Using metal folding chairs as weaponry was a bad idea in their current states.
"What's up, Zartan?" Monkeywrench asked, tilting his head to the side. Damn, he looked so different without facial hair.
"We're going on a field trip." He smirked, looking over each and every one of his employees. "Stay together and follow me; once we get there, you'll be free to cause as much mayhem as you feel like."
Two hours later…
Zartan leaned back in his chair, booted feet resting on the raggedy-looking coffee table in front of him and a cold beer (a good German brand, not one the various cheaper by horrendously poorer quality ones Americans mass-produced) in his right hand. His younger siblings were in similar states of relaxation, with Zarana occupying all of the couch and Zandar taking the other armchair. It was so nice to finally have an afternoon free of the Dreadnoks and their insanity.
His orders to them had been simple: annoy Doctor Mindbender until he returned them to their proper ages. Between the five of them, finding their way back to their hideout swamp shouldn't be too much trouble. If they got lost and didn't make it back before nightfall, he wasn't going to worry.
He might need to start sending them off to annoy his co-workers more often. It was a rare thing for the three of them to be able to enjoy an evening off like this; he wanted to fix that. Dammit, after dealing with the Dreadnoks, they deserved paid vacation days and hazard pay.
The silence finally shattered when the sounds of five Swamp Skiers met his ears. "I suppose Mindbender finished ahead of schedule." He mused, not bothering to look up.
"What makes you think that?" His sister accused.
"Because none of them were big enough to operate the Swamp Skiers before." Zandar remarked. "Was it too much to hope that we'd get to lose them in the swamp?"
"Yes." Zartan sighed. "They're like mold. You think you've finally gotten rid of them, but they keep creeping back."
"Lovely." A sneer crossed Zarana's lips. If the prototype formula was now working, she would be recalled to the day spa-fronted base in California to help oversee the project with Doctor Mindbender. She would rather not work with the man at all, not after the face-stealing business, but this time it was unavoidable as the Baroness was off on another mission in Asia. She just hoped this one ended quickly.
Her two brothers offered her sympathetic gazes. Neither of them wanted her to go in for this assignment alone either. However, before either of them could say anything, the front door to the shack was kicked in and five adult Dreadnoks rushed straight to the refrigerator.
"Oi, get out of me way!" Torch exclaimed as he tried to wriggle past Monkeywrench.
"Wait ye'r turn, Torch! I was here first!" The explosives expert shouted back, knocking the redheaded Australian behind him.
"Both of you better move!" Thrasher said, trying to use his sheer height and spiked armor to muscle his way to the front of the line.
"Sod off, Thrasher!" Torch and Monkeywrench shouted in unison, shoving the Thunder Machine driver backward.
"Ahh. Fresh, cold grape soda." Ripper smiled, leaning on the refrigerator door
"Ripper, don't leave the ruddy door open! They'll all get warm!" Buzzer smacked the dark-haired Dreadnok upside the head, grabbing a soda for himself. Ripper was stunned enough by the blow to get away from the door.
"Me next!" Torch tried to rush around Monkeywrench this time, to no avail.
"No! And blimey, Torch, get a damned breath mint!"
"It's called a candy mint, ya ninny!"
"No, it's a breath mint!"
"And they're off…again." Zandar sighed as the Dreadnoks started brawling amongst themselves. "Are you sure returning them to their proper ages was a good idea?"
"I don't think age has any effect on them." Zarana grimaced. "But at least they were easier to corral when they were smaller."
"Yes, but they couldn't do things like drive or properly use firearms." Zartan remarked before focusing on the Dreadnoks. "If you're going to kill each other, take it OUTSIDE!" The five brawling bikers paused long enough to run out into the swamp and then began to fight again. "If you want them small again, you will be the one cleaning up after them, sister."
She glared at him, but didn't talk back. The Dreadnoks were more valuable to their cause in their adult bodies, and she had no desire to play den mother to a group of supposedly grown men in children's bodies. Hell, she could barely stand the lot of them as it was; as kids, they were bound to be at least ten times worse! "No, I think I'll leave 'em be and let YOU keep cleaning up after 'em." She smirked, causing Zandar to snicker and Zartan to groan.
"You know, one of these days I should just get them a permanent babysitter so I can have a day off." Zartan griped.
"For that lot? Fat chance." Zarana snorted. It was a nice idea, but it would never work. Whether he liked it or not, Zartan was the only 'babysitter' the Dreadnoks would listen to.