Hello! This is the first Xiaolin Showdown fanfiction. I hope you enjoy it.
Disclaimer: I don't own Xiaolin Showdown. It belongs to someone else that isn't me.
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Conquering the world is never as easy as it seems. Sometimes you've gotta have breaks, like Christmas or birthdays. Maybe Easter, depending on how spread out the previous days are, but don't push you luck. You can't break all the time! Today, Jack Spicer, Dark Prince of the Universe, was having one well deserved break from evil geniusing. In his hands he held a 12'' tall present, wrapped in paper decorated appropriately for the occasion - his birthday.
Jack, being your average sci-fi fan, had seen all the shows and movies in the genre you could think of, and even a few you couldn't. To name but a few: Firefly, Andromeda, every Star Trek series and movie, and almost every episode of Doctor Who. He was a fan of all these (although hadn't watched any in a while being busy with being evil etc.) but there was always favourites; it wasn't so much his favourite show, more of his favourite enemy. Jack of course had always rooted for the bad guys to win. He was especially excited and pleased with this present, because he knew exactly what it was - he'd been scared of them on the show, but now, now he had his own!
A tweleve inch remote controlled Dalek.
A squee errupted from him as he tore off the wrapping paper. It shone in all its foot-tall glory, the lighting in the room making it seem taller and more fearsome. Giggling, the evil boy genius pushed a button and jumped back as the Dalek screeched 'EX-TER-MIN-ATE!' Unable to conceal his joy, Jack jumped in the air yelling 'YES!' Any Whovian would be glad to own a toy such as this, and indeed he was. He pushed the buttons for several more minutes, then turned his attention to a robot he had been working on for a while. Every so often, he would reach for the Dalek and poke a button, giggle, then return to his work. Having miniature evil creature next to you was certainly something to squee about if you were trying to take over the world.
At the end of the day, Jack cleared away some random decorations and streamers his robots had surprised him with (they were all programmed with his birth date) and changed into his PJs, poured himself a glass of milk and went to bed, leaving the little Dalek standing like a monument on the desk top over the robot in pieces next to it. Even that small, it looked frightening enough to zap and exterminate anything that got in it's way.
The door to the basement closed and the lights dimmed, leaving the room in darkness, a lone sliver of silvery moonlight peering through an open window.
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A small, big-headed shadow sneaked it's way around the Spicer manor. This particular shadow had earlier gotten into a fight with a few friends, and was out to prove itself. It stuck to the walls and leapt nimbly past terrible gargantuan robotic guards, making its way through an open window and landing on the cold sterile floor of the evil boy genius' lab. Striking down a few metal foes, the shadow familiarised itself with the room, spotting the most frightening thing it had ever seen.
In the middle of the center table it sat, staring at him with a single eye. Staring... It sat there, no noise escaping it, no movement or fidget destroyed its poise of true evil. Shining from the summer moonlight, it glittered menacingly, threateningly, scaring the living crap out of the little shadow.
Omi of course didn't realise it was made of plastic, remote controlled and button activated, but he screamed anyway and ran back to the temple as fast as he could, without even taking any Shen-Gong-Wu or even looking back. That... THING was back there, that evil, maniacal THING was there. In Jack Spicer's house. Even as Omi approached the Xiaolin temple, he didn't think it might attack the red-haired begoggled boy, nor did he think about what it really might be. He lay that night petrified in his bed, hardly daring to sleep in case it came after him.
Back at the manor, Jack had been awoken by the shriek of horror and had joined in, before bravely checking out what was going on... after half an hour or so, just to be sure. There was no trace of what had happened except several of his robots destroyed, in pieces on the floor. Everything else was fine, including, to his delight, his birthday Dalek. He petted it, then retreated to his bed. He'd fix the robots tomorrow and check the CCTV.
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Early that morning, the Xiaolin monks awoke - except Omi, who hadn't really slept at all - ate breakfast, and did their usual routine. They did not talk, each of them still sour about what had happened the night before. None of them would admit they were sorry, even to break the silence. There was so much silence, even Dojo didn't talk. Not that there was much to talk about; it had been pretty boring lately.
While doing their usuals, Omi still had one thing on his mind. That and the lack of sleep seemed to be keeping him off his game, giving Raimundo many chances to smirk. Rai himself was particularly peeved about last night, and with Omi's constant pointing out about his 'incompetance'. After a while, they each separated and did there own thing, footballing, PDAing or just sitting around.
Jack Spicer, however, was busy. He sat at the center table of his lab, running through the CCTV footage of Omi's break in last night. He rewound it several times, enjoying the look on the younger boy's face as he lost his staring contest with the Dalek and screamed a scream that could make ponies flee. He ignored the second yell on the tape (his) and prodded his notebook with the pencil (mechanical of course). What. What. What... He looked at his Dalek for help. Then the idea struck him like a TARDIS out of control.
An ARMY! Of DALEKS!
He'd always wanted an army of his own. He did once have that army of monkeys, but it hadn't really worked out... This on the other hand was perfect! Cueball would be too scared to fight - he could march straight into the temple and take their Shen-Gong-Wu. He could get any other Wu without a problem. He could march on the whole WORLD! Noone would question him! Not even Chase!
He'd add weapons, of course. Stun rays... and little lazers. He would have to modify a lot, changing the exterior to metal to make it stronger, make them bigger, make the voices louder and make them act to his voice commands. He could do it though. He wasn't an evil boy genius for nothing, after all. He drew up some designs and specifications, opening up the Dalek to see what it was made of and cackling maniacally all the while. Finally! He would have it all!
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On the whole, his project looked pretty much a success. Over the next two days, he had built fifty new Daleks, each to the new spefications he had made and tested against his other robots. The stun rays worked surprisely well, which he had learned the hard way. His army would stand now at 5 times their original height, and although not as fearsome as their TV counterparts, Jack marvelled at just how DAMNED scary they looked. And they looked just that - DAMNED scary! Their lazers could cut through rock, and even cut a little flesh (although Jack wasn't much for bloodshed, the adorable wimp he was), albeit not much; the beams were designed to bounce of the Daleks' outter shell without damage. The metal they were made of was stronger, more flexible and dent-proof, much better than the stuff he'd made his old Jack-bots out of.
Standing back, Jack examined his work once more. Each soldier glimmered with a hope for evil, a shine in each single eye that pleaded 'let us fight!'. Fifty should be enough... for now. He set his old robots to the task of guarding his lab as he prepared to storm the temple head on - something he'd never had the courage nor firepower to really do before. His helibot whirled into life and he glided through the air, giving the signal for his army to follow. Follow they did; each had a jetpack attached to its back, and each flew after their leader, with screams of 'EX-TER-MIN-ATE' and many wiggles of their plungers.
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A red sky hung over the Xiaolin temple as the evening approached. Omi was sat on one of the blue roof tops, reflecting on his earlier panic-and-flee attack. Raimundo lay on the rim of the fountain, kicking a football lazily into the air. Clay was practicing his lasso tricks, and Kimiko was emailing a friend back in Tokyo. All was quiet.
...exterminate...
A faint noise, coming somewhat from the direction of somewhere. As the monks looked to find the noise, it grew.
...Exterminate!...
The noise continued to allude the three other monks, but Omi was frozen, hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. The noise grew again.
...EXTERMINATE!
If there was music, it would've been from a John Carpenter film. Omi fell from the roof as the sound grew louder, surrounding them all. The cacophonous chorus was accompanied by the repetitive beating of helicopter - or helipack - blades. Meaning the one and only... Jack Spicer! The monks' old arch rival (rather pathetic and only suiting the name by his persistance) now had an army of gleaming metal monstrosities. Above all the noise made by the opposing force, one sound rang clear.
The echoing scream of the Dragon of Water.
All at once, lazer beams fired at the single point making a small crater, but Omi was long gone. Dodging, ducking, dipping, diving and... dodging... he ran to the other side of the temple, only to find he was surrounded. He ran into one of the houses and rocked backwards and forwards in a corner as the others fought courageously, yet crappily.
The battle raged on for about a week. It only went that far because Jack had no further scheduling for the week and he was bored. Throughout, he gloated victoriously as his Dalek army 'trounced thoroughly up and down their buttocks' until one morn. A chopper was heard in the rare quiet times there was. The battle itself had been broadcast by locals who were also bored and were randomly carrying a camera with them. The mini-war had hit many shores, including Britain's. The chopper, coincidently, belong to a broadcasting company of Britain, and had some very special news for the evil genius.
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'I'M BEING SUED?'
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Yes. The monks were saved by the ultimate Deus Ex Machina - the BBC.
Thank you, and good night.