"Another root beer here!"
Ralph glanced up at the sound of the familiar voice, shocked to see Calhoun at Tappers and what was more, alone. Not with Felix, not with her men. "Uh, hey Sarge! Felix on his way?"
"Siddown Wreck-It. I'm on a solo mission."
Ralph raised an eyebrow. Felix was an open book. If something was bothering him it would have been instantly obvious. It likely wasn't trouble in paradise. "Something go wrong with your upgrade?"
"None of your business, Solider."
Ralph normally did not backtalk Calhoun, but something in her tone caused him to look up. "Try me."
Before the Sargent could reply, two other patrons of Toppers drifted by. Even around the chatter, he could hear snatches of muttered conversation.
"...cozying up to her 8-bit pal..."
"...gonna marry the ape next if she blows it with Fix-It..."
"It must be nice to have security."
"HEY!" Ralph yelled. "You wanna say that to my face!?"
"Stand down, Soldier." Calhoun was shaking her head and Ralph reluctantly sank back into his seat.
The two who had been talking snickered, but Ralph had endured worse.
They had however explained whatever was going on with the Sargent and furthermore why Felix tended to be a homebody as of late. Times had changed since the 'Turbo' incident. Videogames long thought obsolete had moved here from other arcades, clustering and lovingly maintained around the general area of the Fix-It Felix box. The kids who had grownn up loving them had grown up themselves and men like Mr. Litiwack knew the value of 'vintage'. Their machines were handled carefully and treated with kid gloves.
Q-Bert himself had seen the unprecedented return of his own home.
Vanellope had once, if jokingly called thinking 'dangerous', but maybe the Sargent's problem was his solution.
Right now it was the new games that had to worry. Worry that they were the 'flavour of the moment'. If not that they would be forgotten when the thing with bigger and better graphics came out, it was that their character remained a vital part of the storyline. Poor Lars and Cyndi, the main duo of Alien Freaks through their second and third incarnations had been replaced by a new pair of player characters during the fourth. They'd gotten overconfident and hadn't left before the plug had come out.
Then the rent listings had gone up at Tappers. Places to hide and live in other games. The word 'glitch' was a blessing rather than a curse and fear had once again begun to divide the games. This time it was by company. You got caught in a game made by the same people who prooduced yours and a player would just think you were a cameo.
Everyone wanted to make sure that their game was safe and secure. Everyone wanted a 'cameo'. A glitch.
The Sarge had a thing everyone wanted - the opportunity to live and survive in their, secure environment. The Wreck-it Ralph box would be repaired the second it showed the slightest problem that would decrease its worth to its owner.
Home security.
"Don't worry about them. Buncha jerks, the lot of them." Ralph muttered.
Calhoun smirked. "You want to get out of here, Wreck-It?"
"Nah. You go on. I have some stuff to do here."
"Better not be gettin' loaded. I ain't draggin' yer butt home Soldier!"
Ralph shook his head. "Look who's talking." but the Sargent just snorted and pushed herself away from the table with impressive balance for the three glasses in front of her.
"See you 'round, Wreck-It." She saluted and made her way to the exit.
The villain applied himself to the remainder of his own drink. He was vintage! There was never going to be a 'Fix-It...Felicia' or something (and given what he now knew about Felix's bedroom habits, he wasn't sure he was interested). He'd just have to meet someone from another game. Someone who needed him. Someone he could help or save if their game fell victim to an upgrade.
Tappers was about to get an open-letter to the ladies of videogames.
The citizens of Niceland were no strangers by this point to the arrival of characters with significantly higher pixel counts and definition than they were. That Hero's Duty lady was, after all, Felix's wife - though Mary 'just couldn't figure her out.
They'd met Vanellope too, though Ralph usually visited Sugar Rush if they wanted to hang out. After all, she had a palace and Ralph's shack was cramped as it was, even with someone as small as Vanellope sharing the space.
This person however was not Vanellope and not Tamora Fix-It-Calhoun. In fact, she was tall and thin, dressed something like a business executive in a skirt and blouse and jacket with a scarf wrapped around her head and shades over her eyes which she had removed in the Perma-night of 'Fix-It Felix Junior'.
"Oooh, you must be one of Felix's friends!" Mary gushed. "How lovely! He always has the most interesting er...friends."
"Felix?" The lady asked, stepping smoothly from the train cart. "No, strange little round person. I am here to see Mr. Wreck-It Ralph."
The apartment patrons hopped around in disbelief. Whispers rose up from the huddle.
"What would you want with Ralph?" Gene spluttered.
"I'm here about his ad. I'm sure I would make a wonderful..." she put a finger to her chin as if searching for the right word. "...paramour? Is that too difficult for you to understand? Are you intelligent enough for that?"
Gene hit the floor. Either he did understand, or he'd shorted out from the shock of Ralph on a date. Either way, this woman was deadly serious.
AN: Thanks for the votes of confidence everyone! And Ralph, honey. That is NOT exactly the healthiest attitude to take on significant others...