A/N: Yes, this is a sad angsty fanfic. I'm sorry, I've been feeling sad for the past couple of days so this is what I'm pouring out.
'What did they have against you?' Twenty-Two year-old Sherman Peabody asked himself, looking down at his father's face for one last time.
'Nothing. Only money.'
The words bounced around in Sherman's head like his father's old red bouncy ball.
Exactly, they had nothing against him but were paid just enough to become the world's most wanted criminal. His tears suddenly dried, and his mouth formed a straight line. He turned to Penny, untying his tie.
"The bow tie."
The surprised young woman placed her closed hand on to Sherman's palm and pulled away. In place of her hand sat an untied bow tie. The red satin fabric was creased permanently from all those years of being tied around the neck of the most influential person in all of time. Swiftly tying it around his own neck, Sherman pushed through the gathering of people with a determined look on his face.
'No one assassinates my father without answering to me.'
"Sherman!" He heard Penny call, "Where are you going?!"
"To stop World War 3 from breaking out. Where else?"
"Wait! I'll help you!"
Sherman stopped, "Why?"
"Because, Sherman, no one gets away with killing Mr. Peabody when we're together."
Sherman nodded. Yes, they were a pretty fantastic team. Mr. Peabody would be teasing them if he was there. Then, he would lay down the rules.
Sherman scoffed, 'Mr. Peabody, when you prevent war rules apply. But rules don't apply anymore.'
A spark of blue spread across the sky above Mt. Kilimanjaro as a machine, one much like the WABAC, landed softly on its zenith. As if by magic, the sky absorbed the spark, turning a shad darker than it had ever been in history.