Well, it's late, but I'm continuing anyway!
By the way, do you folks know the song "Looks Like I Got Me a Friend" from The Pebble and the Penguin?
No? Look it up please, then. Seriously, I won't start the chapter till you do.
. . .
Okay then! Now we can begin.
EXE set out early the next day for Green Hill Zone. He had his plans very carefully laid out: the first step was to get his victim into a creeped-out mood by scattering small dead animals by the path.
This turned out to be harder than he'd foreseen. After almost an hour of chasing after squirrels and having acorns hurled at his head, he decided a different approach was needed. By a stroke of luck he found a taxidermist in the phone book—but to his disappointment, when he broke into the place there were only one or two half-stuffed songbirds, hardly enough to catch anyone's attention.
He had to get a little creative after that, but in the end he satisfied himself that he had set up an appropriately unsettling approach for his victims. Then, after a quick stop by Angel Island, he settled himself at the end of the path and waited.
For a while nobody showed up. Just when he was starting to worry that nobody ever came through Green Hill Zone, somebody did.
As a G.U.N. agent and all-around mercenary, Shadow didn't often have free time; but when he did he fancied a quick skate through Green Hill as much as the next hedgehog. It was usually peaceful, especially when none of Eggman's badniks were wandering around, and the landscape was always pristine and unpolluted.
As such, he was surprised to see what looked like a lot of litter ahead. When he got closer, he found a bizarre collection of objects strewn by the path: a dead bird or two, a multitude of plushies, and a fair number of fur hats and mittens. Several of them appeared to be liberally daubed with cherry jam.
"PETA made it out this far?" he muttered, poking one toe at a battered fur hat. It didn't even look remotely like real fur, which seemed counterintuitive as far as he could figure. Shrugging, he was about to head onwards when he nearly ran into a familiar blue form.
"Faker? Don't tell me you're responsible for this."
EXE turned around dramatically, opening his eyes. He knew the black sclera with red irises were what really set him apart from his good-guy namesake, and he intended to use them for all they were worth. And to be honest about it, Shadow did take a step back and raise his eyebrows uneasily. After a beat, though, he stepped forward again and tilted his head, squinting.
"I think there's something wrong with your contacts."
EXE grinned at him to full evil effect, showing his sharp teeth.
". . . You're even happier than usual. What's eating you now?"
EXE grinned harder.
"Or is this supposed to be a toothpaste commercial? I don't use that stuff."
Seeing that things were going to have to get more intense, EXE raised his hands menacingly and lunged, snarling. Shadow raised one arm slightly as if blocking a spray of water, but otherwise didn't see fit to react any more strongly. As such, EXE merely crashed against him and stuck, clinging to the upraised arm and still grinning maniacally.
Shadow surveyed him for a moment, his head shifted back to avoid brushing noses with the other hedgehog.
"Now you're just being awkward."
That said, he punched the hapless EXE firmly in the nose.
Forgetting his earlier resolve to stay eerily silent, EXE tumbled back with a rather undignified yawp, hands flying to his poor bruised muzzle. Shadow was going to say something, but EXE decided it was high time to call on one of his natural talents: the ability to disappear. A whisk of black smoke, and he was gone.
Shadow stood for a few seconds, regarding the place where the Sonic-like hedgehog had been a second ago.
"What does the Faker even get up to?" he muttered, and turned to head onwards.
Only he nearly ran straight into EXE again.
"Faker, what the—?"
He tried to shove the other hedgehog aside, but EXE disappeared again too quickly for him to catch. Another whisk of black smoke, and EXE appeared behind him, grinning.
"What is all this?" demanded Shadow, turning around, but no matter how much he turned, EXE kept disappearing and reappearing, cackling evilly. The Chaos Spears he flung always struck empty air, and he grew progressively more fed up. EXE started to feel cautiously elated. Now this was going much better! A few more minutes, and he'd have this sucker in a nervous breakdown.
He hadn't reckoned on the Chaos Blast, though. He'd winked out of existence during the first half, so he missed the worst of it, but it still tossed him back pretty hard and left him dazed.
"I warned you," said Shadow darkly, stalking off.
EXE scrambled to his feet, miffed. There was no way he was going to let his target just walk off un-terrified like that! Not on his very first-ever run!
Shadow looked over his shoulder eventually and stopped dead, staring.
"They told me to cut down on the Swiss Rolls before bed . . . " He rubbed his eyes and looked again. "I'm losing it."
EXE did have the power to fly; it was hardly what you'd call graceful-looking (sort of a diagonal Superman-type pose), but it got him places and fast. He might not have quite overtaken Shadow per se, but the startled stop had slowed the Ultimate down enough to be caught.
It was a while later that Omega hove into view.
"Unit Shadow the Hedgehog," he called. "Your presence is requested at the—" The rest of his speech was lost in a flurry of bewildered electronic tones.
"Yes, a little help here?" said Shadow, arms folded sullenly as EXE blinked all around him. "Every time I try to move this idiot gets in my way, and he seems to think he's a strobe light."
"Life-form signatures do not indicate Sonic the Hedgehog, nor any previously documented entity," said Omega, scanning curiously as EXE turned to give him an irritated look. He was having enough trouble with Shadow without a robot crashing the party as well. "Curious; signatures seem vaguely electronic."
"Electronic? . . . Of course!" Shadow snapped his fingers. "I knew those eyes and that flight style seemed familiar! It's the latest Metal Sonic model! Damn, the Doctor's making them more realistic by the month."
"That is irrelevant. If it is Eggman-created, I shall destroy it!" growled Omega, converting one hand to a flamethrower.
"Hold on, hold on," interrupted Shadow. "You know Metal Sonics can be useful; maybe we could win this one over to our side. Shouldn't be a tough job; he seems pretty pathetic combat-wise, as far as Metal Sonics go."
"Hey!" blurted EXE without thinking.
"Oh, so it talks." Shadow raised an eyebrow. "Doesn't even sound electronic, either. The Doctor's outdone himself."
"I am not a Metal Sonic!"
"It even has the usual complex," grunted Shadow, amazed. "Do they all come into the world thinking they're the real Faker?"
"Are you even listening to me?"
"The flicker is interesting, though," continued Shadow, studying EXE appraisingly. "I think the Faker mentioned that one of the earlier Metal Sonic models could move so fast he seemed to flicker in and out of sight. Pity they lost that one in the lava pits, I hear it was one of the superior models."
"We are not instituted for the purpose of collecting Metal Sonics," grumbled Omega sulkily. "They are inferior constructs, and I intend to eliminate them all."
"Inferior or not, they're still valuable allies," argued Shadow.
A debate on the merits of robot-collecting began; EXE stood aside, slack-jawed. How did this even work?
"Look, people!" he blurted at last, losing patience. "What is wrong with you?"
That caught their attention.
"How are you so calm, anyway?" demanded EXE, stamping. "You're not supposed to be calm! This is a sick twisted mind game!"
"What, this?" Shadow scoffed. "Hardly. A sick twisted mind game is when Rouge and Knuckles play poker."
"Dude. I am freaking blinking," scowled EXE, stomping over and jabbing a finger at Shadow's chest for emphasis. "And I have freaking blood coming from my eyes. You, according to every manual ever written, are supposed to be scared."
Shadow regarded him blankly, half-puzzled, half-annoyed, and maybe a small percentage of amused tossed in there somewhere.
"He does have a complex," observed Omega glumly.
"Arrrrrgh!" Tugging his ears in frustration, EXE took a stride forward, grabbed one arm each from Shadow and Omega, and flickered out of existence again—taking them with him.
They reappeared on Angel Island, specifically Mushroom Hill. EXE had taken a lighter to the place previously, and the air was thick with smoke.
"Now we'll just see!" he grinned. "You'll be a bit less smug once you're—yagh!"
This last bit because a sluice of cold water had just caught him in the back of the head. He whirled around, startled, to find that there was actually a lot less fire around than he would have expected, considering how much lighter fluid he'd gone through. A red blur of an echidna was whizzing around with a bucket, tossing water every which way. On one of his tearing circuits, he caught sight of the small party standing off to one side.
"YOU!" he bellowed, thundering towards them. "I'll teach you to set fire to my island—!"
EXE considered, then lunged for Knuckles; maybe this echidna would be easier to scare than the weird hedgehog. Somewhere halfway along his trajectory though, he realized that "this echidna" was heading for him with all the force and fury of the 6:45 express goods, with brake failure. Gulping, he screeched to a halt and reversed directions.
"Well, there goes our Metal Sonic," said Shadow glumly, watching as Knuckles pursued EXE out of sight. Omega poked experimentally at a still-smoldering palm tree.
"I was just starting to appreciate his taste . . . "
That evening, Tails Doll sauntered into BB's to find EXE hunched over a sheet of paper, scribbling something. A laptop was open on the counter before him, displaying a businesslike website with tips on how to properly fill in an official "scare report." The plushie bit his lip uneasily; if EXE had already scared someone, Tails Doll's plans for tomorrow were going to have to work out much more spectacularly to keep him ahead.
Nonchalantly the plushie clambered up on the barstool next to EXE's and ordered a sandwich; then, settling back, he eyed EXE's paper surreptitiously. EXE looked up though, cast him a glare, and pointedly moved the paper out of his line of view.
"What'd you do, jobbie, startle a lost puppy?" Tails Doll snarked.
"I'm not tellin' you. You'd just steal my ideas," retorted EXE, sticking out his tongue.
"I don't need yer goofy ideas," snapped Tails Doll, and snatched the paper away before EXE could react, leaving a long diagonal trail of ink where the pen still touched the paper.
"Hey!"
Tails Doll scoffed and managed to keep the paper out of its owner's reach long enough to read the gist of it.
"Psh. That's all y'managed? You didn't scare anyone!"
"What do you know? It could be enough!" growled EXE, snatching the form back. "Aw great, now you've ruined it!"
Tails Doll rolled his eyes unrepentantly. However, it gave him a bit of a start when EXE suddenly flickered, collapsed in on himself, and whisked into the USB drive of the nearby laptop. Before he could even properly react, EXE popped back out again in a shower of ones and zeroes, clutching a new sheet of paper. He caught the plushie's somewhat gobsmacked expression and smirked.
"What, you thought they called me EXE because it sounded cool?"
Tails Doll snorted and turned back to his sandwich, doing his best to look unimpressed.
For a while EXE labored away at re-filling the form, scruffing his quills occasionally as he searched for the right words. Presently he looked up, and it was now his turn to be startled.
"What are you doing?"
"What does it look like I'm doin'? I'm cuttin' my ear off."
". . . Why."
"It's part of the plan," retorted Tails Doll, busily applying his little knife to the seams along the side of his head. "Fella's got to look the part."
"You don't feel that?" asked EXE, fascinated.
"Y'think they called me Tails Doll because it sounded snappy?" retorted Tails Doll, pulling a bit of stuffing out through the new gash just enough to look convincing. "It all sews right back up when the game's over."
EXE was less uptight about showing his interest; he watched with one eyebrow raised as the little Tails-modeled plush studiously roughed himself up. Knowing how his rival had fared today, Tails Doll felt smug enough to offer some patronizing advice.
"Y'see, kid, y'don't go for the tough customers. Y'went tooting the wrong ringer trying to scare that Shadow character; he was scary enough in SA2 and Shadow the Hedgehog that they're still considerin' letting him visit here. If he doesn' go all good-guy again for the next game, he'll prob'ly be sent an a'fishal BB's invitation, ya know?"
"What's that got to do with this?"
"Well, he's got 'nuff creds of his own that you don't scare him. Near nuffin' does. If you wanna scare stuff, ya gotta pick the ones who scare easy. And ain't nothin' more likely to attract the easy-to-scare type than a little battered stuffed animal lying out in the woods." He smirked. "Don't waste yer time with that scare report."
"Hmph." EXE surveyed the nearly-completed form, chewing the tip of his pen. "Ah, I'm still turning it in. If Shadow's so hard to scare, it's gotta count for more if I startle him even a little, right? Extra credit for trying the harder levels!"
Tails Doll paused his efforts to give him a weary look.
"Are ya always this consarned opt'mistic?"
"I guess?" EXE shrugged. "Why not? Life is fun."
"No it ain't."
"Yeah it is." EXE leaned closer, his eyelids sliding half-closed and his voice dropping to barely above a whisper. "The fun is infinite."
"Don't go there!" warned Tails Doll, leaning away uneasily. EXE chuckled and went back to his work. Tails Doll eyed him suspiciously for a moment, then shrugged it off and went back to his dinner.
"You'll be singing a diff'rent tune once ya get some real life under your belt, kid."
"Tune? . . . "
Without any kind of warning, EXE tossed aside his pen and cleared his throat. Maybe it was dumb luck, or maybe he had some kind of deal with BB's piano player, because just at that moment the twangly strains of the previous song died away and a lively new progression rang out. Tails Doll looked in that direction, puzzled; when he looked back, EXE was wearing a boater hat.
"What in blazes are ya . . . "
The rest of the question went unasked, because EXE, without preamble, began to sing.
"When you're, a dark and scary creature,
You get to party every night!"
"What the—"
"You get to dress up as a teacher—"
"You're not serious!"
"And make the schoolkids scream with fright!"
"Is your real name Mac? 'Cos it'd go with the cheese!"
"Your peachy life keeps getting peach-er—
The future's always looking bright!
We're li-vin'
High as, a Bloody-Crested Screecher,
I'm sayin' life as, a monster's, all right!"
That verse ended, and the piano started to play a bouncy bridge before the next one. Tails Doll was holding his head.
"What do you think yer doin', ya dimbulb? You've got blasted singalong lyrics floating over yer head!"
"I do?" EXE looked up and found that there was indeed a line of white text hovering above him, the words turning yellow as he spoke them. "Oh, wow. Awesome!"
Tails Doll slapped himself none-too-gently in the forehead.
EXE, meanwhile, was launching into the next verse.
"When you're, a dark and evil be-ing,
You get to wander as you please!
Nobody asks you who you're see-ing;
And—"
The music suddenly cut off with a ear-shattering KERSPROING!, as if every piano key had been struck simultaneously. A multitude of broken wires suddenly spewed from the top of the bar's piano, curling and twirling erratically. As everyone whirled to look in that direction, Tails Doll suddenly emerged from the piano's innards, brandishing his knife.
"Sorry 'bout yer pianner, pal," he shrugged.
The pianist, a snow-white echidna with black patterning and gold wristlets, waved one hand dismissively.
"Think nothing of it. Anything to get out of playing that abysmal tune."
Tails Doll chuckled drily and stalked back to the bar, where he found EXE glaring at him murderously.
"What did you have to go and do that for?! This coulda been a musical!"
"Close yer head, kid," grumbled Tails Doll, slinging himself back into his seat. "There ain't gonna be no musical."
