"What do you think M.A.D.'s plan have to do with an old sports supplies warehouse?" I ask Penny disguised as Matt as we walk down a dark corridor.
"Who knows, who cares?" she asks, beating a fist into her flat hand. "I've just been looking forward to kicking some bad-guy ass all day long."
"Ditto that." She laughs as I flash her a charming grin.
It seemed lately M.A.D.'s evil schemes had been weaving in and out of the borders between Riverton and Metro City. Of course, inevitably, some of the top agents from both respective agencies end up working together to take them down.
We sneak behind a pile of boxes. There's definitely M.A.D. agents over there all right, but they're talking so quietly, I can't hear a single word they're saying.
"Ready?" I mouth to her.
"Let's go," she mouths back.
"FREEZE!" We jump out, stun guns up. The MAD agents turn: we definitely got their attention. Penny and I whip out our badges at the same time.
"Riverton and Metro City HQ," I announce to the criminals as we place our badges back on our belts. "You're under arrest for...whatever evil plan you guys are up to now."
Scowling, the biggest one takes his weapon and shoots, luckily missing.
"Okay, you guys wanna play rough?" Penny loads her stun gun. "Fine. Let's play rough, then."
The next thing we know, guns get fired, sports gear goes flying...and it's only about half a minute before Penny and I find ourselves tied back-to-back, bound by bolos. How would those of all things get into a sports warehouse?!
"...Well...that didn't go as we planned." I comment awkwardly.
"Yeah, ya think?"
"GO GO GADGET SPRINGS!" A familiar voice calls from outside. Busting through a window is Penny's cyborg uncle, Inspector Gadget. I repress a groan.
Please don't mess this up...I think to myself.
The guns break loose on him, but his limber body dodges them with ease.
"Go Go Gadget Mallet!" With a single smack, Gadget knocks all the M.A.D. agents into a pile. "Go Go Gadget Refridge-a-Gadget!" In seconds, the whole warehouse except me, Penny, and him turn to frozen blocks of ice. With a satisfied smile he turns towards us. "And that, kids, is how you make a proper arrest."
It literally takes all my willpower not to have my jaw drop open in amazement.
Loosening the bolos so we can step away from the beam we were tied to, he looks at me, his smile turning to a frown of thought. "Hmm...you look familiar. Have we met?"
"This is Agent Matt Hill, from the Riverton HQ branch, Uncle Gadget. He's been helping me on missions that involve both our cities, which seems to be happening a lot these past few weeks."
"I see..." my heart begins to pound as he stares at me in suspicion. "Well," I'm startled as his face turns much friendlier in a split second, and he shakes my hand. "it's always a pleasure to meet new agents helping in a fight against crime."
Standing outside the warehouse, I watch Chief Quimby congratulate him.
"You okay?" Penny asks.
"It's just, um...I've heard...rumors about this guy, your uncle. You know, how he always saves the day...but it seems like he always does it on accident. But this time around, he got those M.A.D. agents without even breaking a sweat! You know, if cyborgs even can sweat."
"Yeah. Between you, me and the lamppost, saving the day was pretty much always accidental with my help in the background for a long time, up until about a year and a half ago. I'm not sure if you've heard about this, but there was this time where Metro City was filled up with clones...of me. Uncle Gadget got it to stop by fixing this glitch virus on a cloning machine, but it sent out a shock that kind of 'reset' him to his former glory before that whole 'Banana Incident'. Now he's been the best of the best, whether I'm there or not."
"Wow...that's...amazing." And I really mean it, too. Looks like Inspector Tin Can became Inspector Whoop-a-Can-of-'Kick'-On-Your-Ass.
Every two-to-three days or so, I visit the Riverton Bird Sanctuary on my way home. Since I don't have a license to hold wild animals in my home (and my apartment complex doesn't allow pets anyway), I had to call the wildlife experts to take the crow I found and nurse him back to health. They told me he was otherwise young and healthy, so he should be good to go back on his own pretty soon, but it eases my conscious to check on him every now and then. Since then, we've formed something of a special bond, one could say. I even named him "Edgar" (short for Edgar Allen Poe ((sigh) yes, I know the original poem was a raven, not a crow, and I'm otherwise not a fan of the name, but I think it kind of suits him), a name which he seems to respond to whenever I call him.
Sitting down on a bench, I turn off my "Matt" disguise, casually take an apple out of the bag I've been carrying with me, and take a bite out of it.
"CAW!" Looking down next to me, there's my crow friend, looking up at me with dilated, dark eyes. He looks like he's getting a little bit better every time I see him. Swallowing, I greet him:
"Hey there, buddy." He closes his eyes as I lightly stroke his head. I look at the apple in my hand. "Oh, I'm sorry," I ask teasingly, "did you want a bite?"
"CAW!"
Chuckling, I take a smaller bite of the apple, spit it out in my hand, and feed it to him.
"There. Better?"
"CAW!"
"Ahem." I look up to see a brunette woman about mid-thirties or so in a khaki uniform, folding her arms with a stern smile on her face.
"Wanda! Hey..." I greet her casually as she raises an eyebrow at me, "...how's it going?"
"You know the rules, Talon. No outside food in the sanctuary."
"Right, right. Sorry." I put the apple back in my bag. She sighs and sits down next to me, Edgar hopping closer to me to give her some room.
"Listen, Talon. Your heart's in the right place; it's clear you care about this bird, and you just want to help him. I understand; my empathy for injured animals is what made me want to get a job in animal sanctuaries like this." Wanda strokes Edgar's head with one of her gloved hands. "However, part of that job is enforcing the rules on guests here, for both their safety, and the birds'. My boss has noticed you sharing your food with him, and he says if you don't stop, we're going to have to ban you from the sanctuary." She shakes her head. "You're a good kid, Talon, and Edgar has really grown attached to you. I really don't want to have to do that."
'Good' is hardly a word I'd use to describe myself, but I take the label with a grain of salt, and just try to focus what she's trying to say. "I understand. Just trying to do your job, right?" I ask, getting up from the bench.
"Exactly. Glad to hear we're on the same page."
"I should probably get home anyway. I'm expecting a phone call from work pretty soon."
"Caw..." Edgar flutters his wings, a sad look in his eyes.
"Aw, it's okay, E. I'll be back." I stroke his head one more time. "I always come back, remember?"
I can never stand looking back at him when I leave. He always gives me these puppy-dog eyes, possibly in hopes that I'll at least give him another treat before I go.
I unlock the door to my apartment, and flick the lights on. I find myself looking into a pair of icy-blue eyes peering out from a crow mask that otherwise covers the whole face. "AH!" I gasping, clutching my chest, startled.
"Relax, kid. It's just me," the deep, distorted voice says. My brain recognizes the figure on the couch as my boss, Cody Crow. I've seen him in person before, but never in this bright of lighting: except for his eyes, he's covered head-to-toe, the crow mask taking up his whole head. Neck-down is in a black suit with feathered shoulders. His hands have black gloves with a slight "claw" to them, and his business-casual shoes are (of course I'm sure you've guessed,) black.
"Yeah, okay, sure. Go ahead and sit in my apartment with all the lights turned off, waiting for me to come back. That's not creepy or weird at all," I comment, rolling my eyes on the last statement.
"You're forgetting the apartment technically has rent under my name. Plus, I have a spare key," he demonstrated by dangling it in front of me. I briefly sniff the air.
"Are you cooking something?"
BEEEEEP. BEEEEEP. BEEEEEP.
"Ooh! Pizza's ready!" Speaking of food, I figure I better finish up my apple before it rots. Setting the pizza on top of the stove, he looks over my way. "Hey, wait. You got an apple over there?"
"Uh, yeah. Why?"
"Apples...goes great with cheese pizza."
"Are you serious?"
"Yep, trust me. If you let me cut up what's left of your apple, I'll put a little bit on your slice."
"O...kay...?" I hand him the apple. Leaping from the kitchen, he swipes it from my hand, and gets it on the counter almost faster than the blink of an eye. Cody cuts up the apple into fine slices, and sprinkles them over half the pizza. I wonder if he ever worked culinary fine arts. Whipping the pizza cutter from the drawer, he cuts two small slices.
"Say, where do you keep the plates?"
"That cupboard just above you." I take a seat at the small table.
"Ah." Whisking the plates onto the table, he sits down in the chair across from me. A pause sits between us, broken by him giving an encouraging gesture.
Skeptically, I cock my head, but nevertheless decide to try it. Strangely, the sweet crispness of the apples gives a nice contrast to the tangy tomato sauce underneath, and compliments the slightly salty cheese on top.
"Mmm?"
"Mm-hm," I give a thumbs-up.
"Awesome. You've got good taste, Talon." Pressing a button on the side of his mask, a small compartment over his mouth slides up, allowing him to eat the slice. From what I can see, his skin is a pale brown, lighter than mine. Looks like somebody's not a big fan of getting a sun-tan.
"So, uh, what brings you to my humble abode? Weren't we supposed to check in with each other through phone calls? Not that, I'm complaining or anything, it's just, I, didn't expect you to show up out of nowhere." Pressing the button again, the compartment slides down again.
"Because I felt we have an issue that we needed to address on a bit more...personal level. Face-to-face. Mano-a-Mano. Comprende?"
"Si."
"Haha, good. Now then, let's cut to the chase." He folds his arms, leaning forward on the table. "I've noticed you've been hanging around a certain pigtailed blonde an awful lot lately. Is she going to be a problem for you?"
"...You mean Penny? I don't understand what you mean by 'problem'."
"I just know that the two of you have quite a history together. You've even earned the affectionate nickname of 'The Romeo and Juliet of Good and Evil', by the junior HQ and M.A.D. agents."
"Wow, that's really what they call us?"
"So I've heard from rumors. Anyhoo, my point is: I know when she broke your heart, you kinda snapped and turned semi-rogue against M.A.D. Say she does it again, or some other girl (or guy, I'm not judging), you get into does it again: is it going to shake your allegiance to our organization?"
"No! No, sir. Penny was only part of the reason why I left M.A.D. Mostly it was because of my uncle's abusive nature towards me, and just getting tired of getting stuck in the rut, you know?"
"Hm. I suppose that's understandable." Everything is quiet between us as we both finish our slices. Pressing the button to his mouth-compartment-voice-changer-thingy again, he stands up. "All right. For the most part, I trust you. Still...couldn't hurt to take precautions, now could it?"
"Wait, what do you mean by 'precautions'?"
"I have something in mind, I just need the right person to do it." He looks into my widened eyes as I swallow. "Don't worry:" he laughs, "I'm not going to kill you or anything, far from it! Everyone in my organization serves their purpose, one way or another. Just keep tuned for a phone call or an e-mail from me or something. Rest of the pizza's yours for seconds, thirds, leftovers, or even toss it, I don't care what you wanna do with it. I gotta run." Getting up from the chair, he adds, "there's lots of other tasks as an organization leader I gotta take care of, but," he places a gloved hand on my shoulder. "I'm glad we had this talk, you and I."
"Yeah, I'll uh, keep an eye out."
"There you go. Alright, kid, I'm off. See ya."
"Bye." It's like he left as soon as he came.
Sighing, I lean back into my chair, releasing a breath in attempt to take some of the pressure and stress of my mind. Seriously, what does he mean "precautions"?