1Disclaimer: I own nothing and like it.
As the door closed behind Kim, Señor Senior, Junior turned to Ron.
"Please, have a seat." As Ron found the nearest comfortable-looking chair so as to comply with the airheaded heir's request, metal clamps emerged from the arms and legs of the chair and bound Ron to the soft Corinthian leather.
"Hey, I thought I was just here to help make you an international teen pop sensation. Why me, by the way?"
"It's not very often you get to meet someone that the judge from American Starmaker didn't absolutely tear to shreds."
"Actually, I see you pretty much every time Kim comes to stop one of your father's evil plans."
"True, but you usually help her stop my Papi, and this time he specifically wanted to face Kim alone. He will be ever so proud that I have completed this task. Fizzy beverage?"
"That sounds good," Ron said. If he had to be captured by any supervillain, his first, second and third choices would be the Seniors, although back before he and Kim became more than just friends, he may have put Shego on that list. SSJ returned with two fizzy beverages and gave one to Ron. He took a sip and noticed that it had a definite aroma and flavor.
"Um, Junior, you are aware that I'm not 21, right?"
"Um, Ron, you are aware that this island is not part of the U.S.," replied SSJ, almost mocking Ron. "It should help me really get some good advice from you."
"I don't need to get drunk to give you good advice. Or bad advice for that matter." Nonetheless, Ron finished his complimentary beverage. "To start with, pop songs are about one of three things: falling in love, being in love..."
--
As usual, Wade's surveillance was exactly correct. Kim had ascended the flight of stairs, finding a sturdy-looking door. She pulled out her laser lipstick to cut through the door's lock. About halfway through, she bumped her hand into the handle, and the door, which had never been locked in the first place, opened to reveal a vast hangar filled with what appeared to be the entire contents of the Henchco catalog. Before she could take two steps into the hangar, Kim heard the echoing voice of a familiar foe."
"Ah, Kim Possible, this time without your partner," said Señor Senior, Senior. He was seated at a console just to the left of the door through which Kim had just passed. "This should make for a far fairer fight. It's good to know that Junior is supporting my hobby."
"I'm afraid your hobby will have to be put on hold while you two take a vacation to a luxury eight-by-ten cell."
"Be that as it may, let's see how you perform without a distraction!" As he completed his declaration, he pressed a number of buttons on the console and an array of jagged, rapid-moving objects emerged from a series of doors on the edges of the hangar, including some of the original Spinning Tops of Doom. However, Kim dodged the first wave of mechanical mayhem rather easily, barely breaking a sweat. As the objects approached the sides of the hangar, she made a break for the door.
"Why the rush to leave?" asked SSS. "The fun is just beginning!"
"This hangar is going to be torn to shreds in about 10 seconds. I have no plans to be inside when it collapses." Kim yelled to the silver-haired supervillain.
"I'm not going anywhere. It's impossible to break these walls, for you see the steel is much too strong. Unlike your average supervillain, I do not have my buildings do not self-destruct unless I tell them to do so. I still have a few tricks up my sleeve." With that, SSS mashed a few more buttons and toggled some switches on his Death Console CCR32084. Soon even more sharp objects made their way towards Kim. Due to the sheer number of potentially deadly projectiles heading her way, this time she did actually break a sweat; well, that and the fact that a number of these devices of doom were rocket-propelled made the room a few degrees warmer. She fired her blow dryeresque grappling gun into the ceiling and raised herself above the fray.
"Wade, I don't see the big ones in here!" yelled Kim.
"The wall furthest from Señor Senior, Senior is retractable. The switch should be on his console somewhere."
"If only Ron were here," Kim thought and subconsciously said out loud. "he could draw off some of these projectiles and give me a clear shot at Mister 'I want a more accurate assessment of my evil.'" All of a sudden, Kim heard a rumbling behind her and saw the wall begin to sink into the floor. As it lowered, part of the massive assortment of flying and/or spinning sharp things began to make its way towards the giant Spinning Tops of Doom. Sure enough, when the irresistible force met the not-yet movable objects, the result was a dead heat. Everything began to disintegrate in a massive fireball that was rapidly approaching Kim.
"I knew I should have waited longer to fuel those," muttered SSS. After he hit a big black button on the control panel, an escape pod emerged from the floor. As he jumped on board, he turned to Kim, telling her "I'd love to stay and watch your roast, but I have to catch Flight 1919 to out of here. Stay cool!"
Kim leapt from the rafters of the hangar and grabbed onto the back end of the escape pod. The pod emerged through a portal in the wall, and she let go and began to tumble down the mountain on top of which the Seniors' lair was located. As SSS's pod shot further into the sky, Kim noticed she was no longer tumbling on solid ground; there was nothing but about 100 feet of air between her and the beach below. Hoping that a little bit of the Ron Factor had rubbed off on her as a result of all the "quality time" they spent together, she fired her grappling gun into the air.
--
Maybe it was the Ron Factor, maybe it was that Kim remembered seeing the palm tree on the way down. Either way, her shot found its way into the trunk of that tree, and her tumbling gave way to a far more graceful arc. As she reached the bottom of this arc, she released the cable, falling a few feet into a soft dune and tumbling to a halt. After she regained her bearings, she glanced back upward to notice pieces of the hangar raining down on the beach. Fortunately, these pieces were falling at a slow enough rate that she could avoid them with little effort. Kim called Ron on her Kimmunicator.
"Ron, let's roll out. The spinning tops met their doom."
"Jutht a thecond, KP," said Ron with a full mouth. He was holding a tray which had a few bits of cheese and a sleeping naked mole rat on it. After he finished swallowing the contents of his mouth, he turned to the servant who had brought this tray to him. "I must have the recipe for...what do you call this?"
"Sailing the Seas of Cheese," responded the servant and SSJ simultaneously. "Jinx, you owe me a soda," said SSJ.
"Right away, sir." replied the servant as he left the room.
"Kim Possible, are you still there?" asked SSJ in the general direction of Ron's communication device. "I would like to thank you for allowing me to borrow Ron. I now understand what I must do in order to become an international pop sensation. If there is any way I can repay you, let me know."
"You can let Ron go," said Kim, who was now in SSJ's recording studio.
"Fine," said SSJ reluctantly. "I must go and implement phase one of my plan to achieve my destiny!" As he spoke these words, he burst through the door and sent a servant and a soda flying. Kim caught both easily.
--
Ron and Kim made their way out of the Senior's complex the same way they had come in, much to the displeasure of the least hirsute member of Team Possible. They went to where they had parked the Roth SL Coupe and found it the way they had left it. Rufus, who had just waken up from a food-induced coma, staggered out of Ron's pocket.
"So...much...cheese," he chirped as he waddled into his specially-designed cabin beneath the front seat of the Sloth.
"Ron, could you try to get as much sand off of you as possible?" asked Kim. "Last time we were here, it took me two hours to get all the sand out of the floor mats."
"Maybe if we parked in, like, a garage on this island, you wouldn't have to worry about you tracking sand into your car." Ron stated with a hint of pride in his deductive reasoning skills.
"First of all, this is an island. While they probably have dozens of cars, they are not going to drive here. Second, ME tracking sand into the car? It's not like you're coated with Teflon, you know," replied Kim.
"Enough already with the discussion, KP. We've foiled the bad guy..."
"Who got away..."
"I got to help Junior with his music career..."
"You say that like it's a good thing..."
"And we got to make out on a beach..."
"We didn't..." Before Kim could finish her sentence, Ron quite literally swept her off her feet. However, the extra weight made Ron lose his balance. Combine that with the sense of intoxication he got every time his lips met Kim's and the slope of the beach added up to two crazy lovers heading towards the waves.
"Great, now I'm sandy," said Kim playfully, "and wet," as a wave crashed over their heads. They managed to pull themselves together long enough to emerge from the surf and walk back to the car. Kim slumped into the driver's seat despite her previous diatribe against sand in the Sloth, and Ron did the same on the passenger's side. "Besides, we made it through this mission without ever once having to see or hear from..."
An anguished cry pierced the sky, the eardrums of anyone within fifty feet of the source, and quite possibly the space-time continuum.
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A/N: Thanks for all the reviews. It helps to increase the quality and quantity of my writing. I assure you that the title will start to make sense within the next few chapters.