"Outta my way, moron!"
With an irritated sneer, Jack shoves past a zombie worker that his guide just went around, forcing the Koi-Bots behind him to move aside so the man can tumble downstairs alongside once-held stolen technological goods.
Jack pauses in his ascension to turn a wicked grin on the falling ruckus. He does so for as long as possible, only continuing up the stairs when the poor sap is no longer in sight, though he can still hear the loud clanks of metal, dull and muffled as they're getting.
Jack's feeling of evil supremacy doesn't last, though.
The previous warmth is slowly squelching his evilness underneath its permeating force, but at least that bubbly feel is gone. It had been an entirely unwelcome shift in emotion, and no matter how often he tried to remind himself that he's still very much the evil genius he has always been, it wouldn't leave him. More specifically, it refused to leave the pit of his stomach.
However, while his most recent dastardly act did fix it, Jack can feel the bubbles trying to return. Worse than the feeling itself, though, is that it's not entirely unpleasant.
So, in the interest of curing his first ever case of Omi-itis, Jack hastily tries to think of any and all possible evil justifications for his current course of action.
An effort in no sense.
First of all, he owes PandaBubba a backstabbing. The conclusion to their last scuffle is still relatively fresh in his mind, and Jack is not about to let the scoreboard remain as is. This is long overdo, and since the crime boss likely thinks him to be long gone, right now is the perfect time to strike. The short-sighted moron will never see it coming.
Then there's that ridiculous meeting location. It was without a doubt chosen specifically to annoy him. It's no wonder PandaBubba hung up on him so abruptly after naming it on the phone: He saw the question coming. Heck, the panda-freak probably planned the whole thing out prior to calling!
An angry growl lodges in Jack's throat at the thought. He grunts at the end of it, however, chuckling instead with a beginning curl to his lips. His hands fist, head titling down.
He's an evil mastermind! What reason can he possibly need other than the irate expression PandaBubba will soon wear when he inevitably succumbs to, 'the evil magnificence of… Jack Spicer!'
Victory will be so utterly sweet, too. Not only will he have his revenge, but he'll still get new, amazing bots out of the whole ordeal – from the crime boss himself. All free of charge.
Jack rubs his hands together with nefarious glee, snickering at the prospect.
Now exiting the stairwell, Jack can't help but feel particularly dastardly, following his Koi-Bot down a familiar teal hallway. The goth can practically feel the evil flowing through his veins.
Plus, he's now in possession of three perfectly evil excuses to give as reasons.
'Not that I'm gonna get caught,' he proclaims, ignoring an enslaved worker passing by.
This is a black-op. No one – especially Omi – will ever be finding out about this. He can already see Cheddar Head's reaction: "Oh, Jack Spicer, I always knew you would eventually reject the ways of evil and observe the rays!"
The cueball will say it in his usual happy voice, too, and probably hug him while saying it. Then he or one of the monks will end up correcting Chrome Dome, telling him it's "see the light".
A chill runs all the way down Jack's spine. He shudders at the thought.
Nope, definitely not getting caught….
Assuming he succeeds, anyways.
He immediately pauses mid-walk and raises a brow sky-high. A light shake of his head passes in mild incredulity, right eye narrowing. 'Of course I'll succeed,' counters Jack in no short amount of evil confidence, resuming his walk. A sinister smirk forms, the red in Jack's eyes darkening. 'I'm Jack Spicer! Evil Genius, Prince of Darkness!'
There isn't anything to worry about! 'Those losers don't even know where PandaBubba is, let alone what's actually going on here.' Add in the building's enormity, and, well, he might as well laugh out loud. Even if the idiots came up with the great idea of splitting off into bigger losers, it will still take half a Wuya-lifetime for them to find Pandabubba.
When the zombie aspect hits him, Jack bursts into a cruel laughing fit, stopping to lightly double over. An arm raises, going across his stomach. He clutches the hand on his side, standing straight and lifting his head to send the echoing noise toward the ceiling.
His walk toward inevitable revenge continues, bots once again moving as well.
"Hey," Jack calls to his leading robot, stifling his remaining chuckles as best he can, "how much longer's this gonna take?"
"Estimation: three minutes, sir," returns the guiding bot.
Jack blinks, raising a hand to his mouth during a final bout of light chuckling. His head tilts, eyes focusing curiously upon the bot's rear. He hums to himself.
The voice held a momentary stark familiarity to that of his very own automatons. Brief as the shift in its monotone was, he'd recognize his Jack-Bot's anywhere, anytime, any-age. Which was a weird thing to hear, because those parts are custom, as with the rest of his creations. Completely and, most importantly, only his.
Nonetheless, his smile can't rescind.
It's just another thing for him to figure out later.
Jack waves it off in his good mood, figuring he'll just check it when he gets back home from enacting his revenge on a particularly short-sighted panda.
Omi-itis cured, Jack chooses to imagine the fury PandaBubba will no doubt display when his evil scheme is shred to pieces. The good times roll in his head for the rest of the walk, the evil boy genius coming to a stop right as he begins to picture PB with the same expression currently worn by the workers.
Snorting quietly through his nose, Jack takes in the same set of doors, fully intending to ignore their message. His humor ebbs. He frowns in consideration, biting his lip.
Will the mob boss still be there, smiling with menacing glee as his slaves did his bidding?
Laying a gloved hand on the push-pad of the left door, Jack gently pushes. The pad hits its stopping point, his push pausing before it resumes in equal care. The door opens sluggishly, Jack stopping when the crack is just large enough to partially pop his head through.
Eyelids drooping, his peek stares.
… Apparently so, because there the man is, looking as if he just accomplished world domination. Though Jack isn't particularly surprised, PandaBubba did just go from short-sighted to full fledged eye-failure, so he feels it necessary to let his unimpressed stare linger.
There is reveling in your moment of triumph, and then there's this. What this is, he's never been able to fathom in any regard other than some form of health issues; because whatever it is, there's back-up.
The vision-less mob boss is managing to make things too easy – even for him. And that isn't saying something.
His eyes widen with terrible realization. He inches his head out of the crack in the door, the sole peeking eye keeping its pupil focused on PandaBubba until hidden.
There isn't a plan.
Jack lets out a muted groan behind the door, head lowering between his shoulders. Ever since making the decision to fix this whole stupid situation, he's not once thought on just how, exactly, he would be getting the damn Wu back. Silently the evil boy genius curses to himself.
'Eh, a plan in progress,' he gruffly excuses, opening the door a little more so he can see the clueless mobster.
'Well, he does look pretty preoccupied,' the young teenager observes. Even the man's facial expression is essentially the same. Sneaking up on Pandabubba and snatching the Wu from his large, grubby hands will probably work. It's even held on the side of him facing Jack.
There's just one tiny problem with the idea…
Jack looks to the door he's holding open, grimacing. When the thing closes, PB might hear it.
Steadily, Jack starts closing the door, a hand flat on it. He does so until it's just barely shut, the door jam an inch from its socket. In a hurry he begins to helplessly search around for anything that could be used to jam the door open. Seconds are all it takes for anxiety to rear its ugly head.. All it will take is one glance in his direction for him to be busted.
The concept of being made worries Jack enough for him to crack the door open for a quick, reassuring peek. One, then two double-takes pass by, the boy genius tapping impatient fingers on his upper thigh.
Just when he's got the door re-almost-shut again, a random shout comes from the room, causing Jack to nearly leap out of his skin. For just a second there, he's on the tips of his toes, posture stiff and utterly straightened out. Fortunately, not a peep comes from going through the embarrassing motion.
Checking on the status of his obscurity reveals no change in Pandabubba's form. Jack lets out a silent, relieved sigh, exhaling a lengthy breath. He does so off to the side, looking in the direction of a Koi-Bot. He's about to look away, but jerks his head back in the robot's direction instead, eyes looking at the few long, curved fangs in its mouth.
The self-proclaimed evil genius waves it over to him, an index finger over his lips all the while. When its close enough, his palm raises, signaling the robot's swift halting. Jack leans near the fish-like robot's gaping jaws, eyeing one of the two larger frontal fangs.
'Looks big enough,' Jack thinks, if somewhat optimistically.
How to remove it, though…
He runs a thumb over its white surface in thought, frowning as nothing comes to him. His lips pull further down, though, as he begins to take note of the tooth's texture, brows knitting in confusion.
That does not feel like metal. Years of working with his automatons made it exceedingly simple to tell the difference between plastic and metal.
Fingers wrapping around the tooth, Jack gets a good grip on it. He tugs experimentally, periodically adding force to the pull. Little more effort ends up being required, however, the pointy object soon pulling free with a low and quick pop that suggests it'd been glued in place
He raises the lengthy fang to his face, red eyes narrowing. His frown broadens in dissatisfaction at both the material and the way in which it had been connected.
However, he's sort of in a rush, so the goth just shrugs, opens the door fully, and silently wedges the removed tooth underneath it. Despite the situation, he still finds meager time to smirk in devious delight at his resourcefulness.
Following that positively negative moment, Jack motions for his bots to follow, tiptoeing towards the target of his justly unjust betrayal. He sticks to the left end of the platform, opposite to the side PandaBubba is standing on whilst looking over the railing at his brain-dead minions. Even now, a malicious smirk is plastered to the panda-freak's face.
Vaguely, it occurs to Jack that right now would be the very worst time for those Xiaolin Losers to come bursting through one of the entrances, ready to save the day. The disturbing thought process is swiftly banished.
Soon enough, he's crouched right behind the mob boss, sticky fingers twitching whilst Jack nervously cycles between eyeing the Zom-Bone within PandaBubba's hold and the back of said person's head.
Ever slowly, his right hand reaches for the Wu. One final glance at the man's head is taken.
The swipe is swift, PandaBubba letting out a surprised grunt as his body jerks toward the redhead. Unfortunately, though, little else is accomplished, even when Jack hurriedly grabs with another hand and attempts once more to rip the Wu straight out of the man's hand.
'Oh come on...' Jack whines in exasperation, glowering at the now-glowing Wu still tightly held by PandaBubba's sharp-nailed hand. His eyes are glued to the artifact, refusing to look up at PB's sure-to-be-glaring face.
It's just his luck. Of course the guy would be holding the Wu in a damn iron grip.
"What is the meaning of this, Spicer?" The query is angry, demanding. Though there is a hint of lingering surprise laced into his tone.
Well, there's only one thing to do now. Good thing he has state-of-the-art robots with him. Jack just hopes there aren't any other cut corners in their design that he doesn't know about.
He breathes in a shallow, quick breath, exhaling it in the same fashion. His one hand leaves the artifact to fist at his side, Jack's evil smirk falling into place whilst his gaze lifts to regard PandaBubba's enraged glare.
"You didn't think I forgot about your little betrayal last time, did you, PB? Well it's payback time, baby!" Jack ends in declaration, raising his fist to point a finger at the other villain. "I challenge you to a Xiaolin Showdown!"
PandaBubba growls low, eyes narrowing dangerously at the darkly garbed evil genius. "Very well."
Jack has to admit, the guy has one heck of a glare. Not that it's working or anything. Just an observation. That he maybe wishes to be further from.
Wait, what? He accepted?
"Really?" Jack blurts in surprise. "But you don't have any–"
His speech is cut off by the man reaching within his suit, grinning darkly at the evil boy genius. PandaBubba pulls out a large, dark cloth. The Shroud of Shadows.
Jack's mouth falls open. Disbelieving, he gawks at the Wu. "Wha– why do– how did you–" the teen stammers. It's PandaBubba's turn to smirk, sinister triumph glowing in the man's black eyes.
Aggravated acceptance, though, soon replaces confusion. 'Xiaolin Losers ,' Jack reminds himself.
"Forget it, I don't even wanna know," states Jack, utterly fed up with his luck today… and just about every other one.
The redhead reaches into his trench coat, digging around for just a moment before producing his favorite Shen Gong Wu of them all, the sight of the staff bringing back Jack's evil smirk. Jack directs the look at PandaBubba. Their eyes meet. Jack's eyebrows pull down and together, his grin becoming toothy.
Pandabubba growls in response, eyes narrowing. His smirk rescinds somewhat, annoyed wrinkles forming on the man's nose.
Jack's smirk only widens in amusement.
"My Monkey Staff against your Shroud of Shadows; the game is Goo Zombies Survival!"
Subsequently, the golden hue permeating along the Zom-Bone begins to brighten, making both contenders shut and shield their eyes from its ever-growing glow. The light encapsulates them, both Heylin shouting in unison, "Let's go! Xiaolin Showdown!"
The revolving glow bloats outward, also capturing the bots in its ever-blinding light. It shines brighter yet, dissolving the yellow hue into a pure white. Finally it explodes, teleporting all in its grasp into a portable game system lying on the floor of the lower level.