There's nothing like buying a Snuggie.
If you're a dolt and would like to prove it, buy one today!
If you don't want to buy one, then buy ten instead!
Wear it in public and show the world your robe, er, dress, I mean, 'Blanket with Sleeves.'
Yes, it's a wonderfully perfect way to show the world your bold gullibility!
And don't forget, the new and improved Snuggies now come with pockets for small items!
Only to deepen the point that the Snuggie couldn't possibly be a robe that people are wearing backwards.
Get yours today! (Gag commercial left because I still find it hilarious. Again, I'm sorry Davisfan, but that's my opinion.)
And now back to the show.
"This happens to be our turf," the street punk shouted at us again as if we didn't hear him the first time, "what are you doing here?"
In case you don't remember:
The three of us were surrounded by a rather large group of violent street thugs.
Short of our Digimon, we had no weapons. We all lacked proper exercise.
It's nearly midnight and no one knows that we were out here.
Obviously, there was a large lack of planing on our part.
"Ronan, are these friends of yours?"
"They're wearing red as if they belong to the Red Raiders," Ronan groaned, "but I don't know any of these people."
"What's a Reject Raider like you doing here," one of the biggest of them stepped forward to shove Ronan.
"Hey, I'm not a reject," Ronan shouted, taking out his Digivice, "here's my proof. Snowmon Realize."
As Snowmon appeared on the field, most of the group backed off. The only one who didn't flinch was the first one that spoke.
"Nice try," he said as he tugged at what I thought was his collar, but turned out to be a red pair of goggles, "See these goggles, they're proof of me being a Marshal and as such, I know who you really are."
"Shoot and that usually works so well," Ronan shrugged.
"Ronan, I know that I'm going to regret asking this," I groaned, "but what's a Marshal?"
"A Marshal is exactly what it sounds like. A Marshal is one of the highest ranking Tamers in the Raiders."
"Correction, I'm The Highest Ranking Tamer," the goggled boy boasted.
"So he's the top dog," I pointed as Ronan shook his head at the Marshal.
"No, this guy is just blowing steam."
"What did you say about our boss, Reject?"
"You heard me," Ronan shrugged smugly.
"Hey Ronan, you might not want to make them angry," Carly tapped on his shoulder.
"Trust me, I know what I'm doing," Ronan assured us, before turning around to face the Marshal, "You're not that tough."
"Oh no," the Marshal calmly flicked out his D-Cell, "Goburimon Realize!"
"Beat them up good," a green skinned Goblin Digimon jumped from one foot to the other swinging his club like it was a party favor.
"Well, I'll give you credit for having a live one," Ronan smiled before he put on his serious face, "but he's no match for Snowmon."
"Go Gobli Bomb," the Marshal shouted. Goblimon followed his master's order. A bright red fireball materialized in his free hand and he pitched it at us like it was a baseball.
Snowmon was not the slightest bit impressed. He stretched as if there was nothing to worry about. When the fireball was close enough, he yawned. The fireball was snuffed out by his cold breath alone. The only thing left in the air was a small amount of water vapors.
"What the," the boss was dumbstruck.
"See? Steam… Now as for what the Marshals are," Ronan turned around and started to draw in the dirt, "it's kind of complicated so pay attention to this easy to read diagram."
"Attack him again Goblimon," the boss shouted.
"Aren't you going to pay attention to the fight," I tried to ask.
"Like I said before, Marshals are the highest rankings of Tamers. The position of Marshal is shared and divided evenly among five members at any given time." Ronan drew a star in the center of the following chart:
虎 Tiger (Tora)
Attack Class
RED
蛇 Snake (Hebi)…:_:…:_:…:_:…:_:…:_ 猿 Monkey (Saru)
Speed Class_:…:_:…:_:…:_:…:_:…:_:…:_HP Class
BLACK_:…:_:…:_:…:_:…:_:…:_:…:_:…:_BLUE
螳螂 Mantis (Kamakuri) _:…:_:…:_:…:_:…:_ 鶴 Crane (Kurēn)
MP Class_:…:_:…:_:…:_:…:_:…:_:…:_:…:_Tank Class
GREEN_:…:_:…:_:…:_:…_:…:_:…:_:…:_:…:WHITE
This is due to the battle style development curve (or Classes) that Digimon can take. Those who are part of the Raiders have nicknamed each class as displayed here. Just for kicks we even added color codes for each class."
"Goblimon," I heard the boss shout. I turned around to see what happened. Goblimon was knocked back, but still able to get back up at his Tamer's call.
"A Marshal is required to wear a special colored googles to identify him/her as a Marshal and for which Class they represent. Similarly Raiders who belong to a certain class must wear their respective colors on their heads in some way so that they're easy to identify to other Raiders."
"Okay, then…," the Marshal paused to think, "gang up on them! We'll over power it with numbers!"
"Ronan, can't you tell us all this when we're safe," I asked, "now is not the best time to be telling us this."
"But we are safe…," Ronan blinked at me.
"Snowmon might need some he-," I started, but the I watched as Snowmon ran like a blur, "Whoa, you guys have got to see this."
"Now each fighting style is special and unique, but no Class is better than any of the others," Ronan said all this while moving his finger in a clockwise pattern, "They each have their own strengths and weaknesses. If you train in one area then the other areas will be hindered. That's the first thing that Marshals teach us Raiders.
"Oh, I get it," Carly clasped her hands together, "but what does the Classes have to do with being a Marshal."
Ronan smiled at Carly, "the title of 'Marshal' is specially given to someone for being the strongest Tamers IN the Class that they each specialize in. Not just because they have the strongest Digimon."
"Oh forget it," I stopped worrying about the fight, "so who are these guys? They're obviously not Tamers since they're fighting without their own Digimon."
"Nothing, but a bunch of street thugs," Ronan stated, "Most likely their boss was rejected from the Raiders Underground, before he ever learned the basics. So he tried to make his own group to give ours a bad name."
"Well, that's just lame," I scratched my head, I barely understood what Ronan was saying.
"They only follow him because he happens to have an active Digimon."
"Correction," Snowmon stated walking up to us, "Half active Digimon."
Behind him, every single one of the humans who thought they could stand up to Snowmon were lying in a pile. Their boss and Goburimon were at the bottom, being crushed.
"You were amazing," Kapurimon bounce in my arms with his eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. He was the only one of us that saw the whole fight.
"He couldn't put up much of a fight at all," Snowmon shrugged.
"You were fast," I commented, "so I'm guessing that you're a Speed Class, right?"
"Well, that's what I've trained for," Snowmon smiled, if he had one, his tail would be wagging behind him, "but I'm actually a Balanced Type."
"Yeah, but we're training to be in Attack Class," Ronan smiled, patting Snowmon on the head, "remember?"
"I know, Ronan," Snowmon nearly purred.
"Wait, where's Balanced in this chart," Kapurimon asked.
"Balanced means that the Digimon naturally grows at the same rate in all Classes," Ronan pointed out, "we want to be Attack Class. So we should be focusing on increasing our strength and power."
"Sounds kind of cool."
"You bet," Ronan had fire in his eyes as he threw his fist in the air, "Attack Class Raiders are always were the action is. Snowmon and I are going to become the strongest that we can be, even if it kills us."
I couldn't help, but notice Snowmon not being as enthusiastic about Attack Class as his Tamer was. He ignored his Tamer's exclamation, looking at the gang of losers.
"Hey," I tapped him on the shoulder, "is something wrong?"
"Um," Snowmon took a moment to think of a lie, "that was a little too easy."
"I agree," Ronan nodded, "Even a half active Digimon should have given us more of a fight than that. We must be ready to enter the Red Digimon Raiders, officially."
"Or it could be because that Tamer you beat was an idiot," some random voice echoed in the junkyard.
"What was that," Carly asked.
"Oh, that's just Michel," Ronan smiled.
"Who's Mi-," I was about to ask when I was interrupted by a metallic knocking. We looked around for the source of the noise. It was coming from the trunk of one of the abandoned automobiles. The trunk bounced a few times before finally opening up. A green clothed munchkin of a kid popped open the trunk from the inside. I almost thought that he was a leprecaun, by the way that he was dressed. If it weren't for the huge white square patches here and there on his windbreaker, he would have been completely green. Instead of a little hat with a shamrock in his red hair, he wore a pair of headphones (also green) with a microphone attached to it around his neck. On it was the symbol that I later learned was the Green Tamers insignia, the Mantis.
"Over here," he waved.
"Long time no see, Michel," Ronan waved at the little guy.
"Welcome back Ronan. I haven't seen you in a while," the kid smiled, and pointed to us, "new recruits?"
"No," I snapped, "I'm just trying to get rid of this thing."
"I am not a thing," Kapurrimon shouted.
"I was talking about the Digimetal. You can stay with Carly for all I care."
"Well, a Kapurimon," Michel stepped forward, "haven't seen one of those in a while."
"Great, I even have a rare In-training Digimon."
"Not very big on the art of sarcasm are you," Ronan looked at me as if I was crazy.
"There used to be at least a hundred of those things running around down here," Michel smiled and pointed at the yard.
"They're the pre-evolution of the Digimon that upkeep this base," Ronan pat me on the back, "so no, he's not very rare at all."
"Now get inside before those idiots wake up," Michel ducked back into the trunk, followed by Snowmon and Ronan.
Carly hopped onto the bumper of the car to follow them.
"Hey Coop, you coming?"
"Just a second," I took a moment to thank god for the lack of Clichés so far.
When I finally took a step into the car trunk, I blacked out for a second. When I woke up all of us were inside of a dark hallway. Pipes and wires lined the entire length of the hall. The lights came from some unknown source. I didn't see any lightbulbs or anything that glowed. It was almost as if the entire place natural absorbed darkness or something. At the end of the hallway was a very large vault door.
"Welcome to the Green Raiders Underground," Michel waved his hands around to inform us to look around, "it's not very big, but you learn to move around quickly and quietly, eventually. Any questions that you may or may not have, (such as how we built this entire facility underneath the junkyard without DiCE or the city knowing that we're here), will not be answered until you have official positions as Raiders."
"Can we at least ask who you are," Carly asked.
"My name's Michel," he said, mockingly bowing as he did, "master hacker and third Operator of the Green Raiders."
"Operator," I asked, "as in a phone line?"
"Michel here," Ronan answer as he gave Michel a nudge, "is an Operator. Someone who overlooks missions assigned to Raiders from this base. Technical stuff that you really don't need to know quite yet. Michel also happens to be the best Hacker I know."
"Then let's get this over with," I said passing Michel the toy, "does this thing have that Digimetal or not?"
"Oh is that all," Michel threw the Data-Vice in the air only to be caught by some rats racing along the pipes.
"Ahhhh," Carly screamed, "what are those things?"
STOP
"Excuse me?"
"Okay, fine… so it wasn't Carly that screamed."
"Thank you."
PLAY
"Dude, chill out," Ronan waved for one of the rats to climb on his arm, "they're just some Dotraccoomon. They're harmless. Nothing to be scared about Cooper."
The little rat on his arm looked just like a baby raccoon with brown fur. It was rather cute, once you get used to seeing them. I think… maybe… I'm still getting used to them.
"They're one of the evolved forms of Kapurrimon," Michel explained, "they also work as Security and Go-For's down here."
"And they don't pay us near enough," the Dotraccoomon hopped her way back up to the pipes with the rest of her group. They then scurried further down the hallway, exactly like the little rats that they mimicked. They disappeared through little holes above the iron door down the hall.
"Why is it that I've never even heard of those Digimon before," I wondered out loud.
"What did I say about questions," Michel asked as he reached the door at the end of the hallway, "now don't touch anything, or else."
To our surprise, when Michel opened the iron door, the only thing behind it was a large computer and a bunch of trash scattered about. Michel had enough fatty snacks in that room to supply a small army. There were other electronics laying out and Digimon booster cards scattered across his desks. I not could identify a single one of those electronics in their current conditions.
"Well, this isn't much of what I expected at all," I continued to look around Michel's Lab.
"Whoa, these are some rare Booster Cards," I heard Carly wow as I tried my best to identify the electronic devices that were sprawled out on the tables.
"Don't touch anything," Michel warned us, "I have everything organized how I like it."
"He's not really organized," Ronan whispered to Carly, "but he does remember where he put everything."
"Okay, so I'm going to do some remedial scans, standard procedure hacking, and…"
"Michel, leave the technical talk for the Dotraccoomon."
"Oh, right," Michel caught the Data-Vice as it fell from where the Dotraccoomon dropped it, "I'm going to reprogram this thing so that Kapurrimon wont suffer anymore."
"Don't forget the Digimetal," Ronan pointed out.
"What Digimetal?"
"I told you not even two minutes ago," I almost asked the kid.
"I know that you like taking things apart, but could you concentrate on scanning it instead?"
"Fine," Michel put the Data-Vice on a flat scanner. Up on the screen popped up schematics that even a 5 year old could understand. It told the entire history and statistics of my Digimon and the Data-Vice. Apparently, the Data-Vice itself was at least three years old. I was almost embarrassed when I saw the flashing life/death count. (97)
"Dude," Michel whistled, "this is an old model. Hacking this thing wont be any fun."
"So it's going to be hard," Carly asked, but the three of us gave her the curtsy of an awkward silence and judgmental stares.
"I wish…," Michel's sweat dropped, "but it looks like you do have one Digimetal of Kindness stored in here. However, it's-"
"Good. Now we need that Digimetal transfered to my D-Cell."
"Isn't that against the Raider's Code, Ronan?"
"Come on! He didn't earn it," Snowmon shouted.
"Like I haven't heard that one before," Michel laid back in his chair, "you know the rules. Trading Digimetals is a no-no."
"Heck with the Code! I earned that Digimetal fair and square," Snowmon shouted pointing at me, "but this snot nosed nub took it."
"Hey, I'm not a nub. I know enough about Digimon to be a top ranking Tamer."
"But you've never had a Digimon before," Carly pointed out, "so technically you are a nub."
"Ownership of a Digimon is irrelevant to intelligence."
"You didn't even know they could eat."
"Who's side are you on," I yelled at her.
"Depends," Carly shrugged, "Do you have a spare Passport, Short-stuff?"
"Sure," Michel dug in a drawer and took out a pair, "you want blue or pink."
"I'll take blue. Coop can have the pink one," I stopped to stare at her, "I thought that you didn't want to be cliché."
"I rather be cliché than fruity," I said grabbing the blue Passport, "besides pink matches with Labramon's coloring."
"Gotcha," she snickered, it took me a minute to realize what happened.
"You just tricked me into getting a Passport didn't you?"
Carly only continued to chuckle, until her phone rang.
"Isn't it kind of late for phone calls," Ronan raised an eyebrow.
"It's from home," Carly said as she looked at the caller ID.
"This is bad," I groaned, "I don't need to watch too much TV to know something's wrong."
Carly flipped open her phone, "hello?"
"Hello, is this Carly Satu," I didn't recognize the voice, "I'm currently at your home right now. I believe that you may be in possession of something of mine."
"I don't think so…"
"Are you certain?"
"Yes sir."
"Because I have a couple somethings of yours," the guy chuckled slightly, "that you may want back."
"Really, I don't remember losing anything today."
"Don't play dumb, girl!"
"Give me that," I swiped the phone from her, "She's not playing dumb. What did you do with Carly's parents?"
"My parents!"
"Nothing yet, Mr. Racamaru."
"I'm going to tell you what I told the last creep," I shouted, "we don't have anything of yours!"
"He must have found you the same way I did," Ronan apologized.
"Calder, is that you, ya snowcapped wimp?"
"Yeah it's me," Ronan swiped the phone from me, "unfortunately, these kids are telling the truth"
"Nice try, but we caught the two of them on the security tapes. I know for a fact that you have my Digimetal."
"And I know for a fact that you have Carly's parents," I shouted back, "Now let them go or face the wrath of a very cliché butt whooping."
"Meet me at Southern Bonemeat Fields and come alone or else you the girl's parents will end up on the missing person's list."
"Bonemeat Fields?"
"No, Southern Bonemeat Fields," the man corrected me, "I'll be ready for you and whatever Digimon you have, in ten minutes."
"But wait…," he hung up before I had a chance to ask any further, "does he want me to go?"
"He already knows that I have Snowmon as my Partner, so he must be talking about you."
"Hey, he kidnapped my parents," Carly was almost shaking as she asked, "how do we know he's not talking about me?"
"More importantly," I asked, "where in the world is he be talking about?"
"He wasn't talking about this world," Michel explained, "he's talking about the Digital World."
"You see, Raiders do battle in the Digital World so that we don't do much damage to the real world."
"Well, technically it's not the real Digital World, it's the Battle-On Virtual World," Michel typed up on the computer, "You see the Arenas are really an area between the two worlds which is why we need Visors to see Digimon in the Arenas."
"So how does he expect a pair of ordinary children to go there."
"He doesn't," Ronan stated, "he still thinks that you're both Raiders, like me."
"Well, that figures," I groaned, "so how are we supposed to get to… where we're supposed to meet him?"
"With your Passports, duh," Michel rolled his eyes.
"Huh?"
"I told you that they're not Raiders, Michel."
"Oh right," Michel typed a few keys on this computer again, "set your new Passports to Southern Meatbone Fields, step on that pad down the hall, and poof."
"That is the lamest thing that I've ever heard," I yelled.
"My old Passport didn't work like that," Carly complained, "So how-"
"Sorry," Michel raised a finger, as he focused on his typing, "full explanations are for official Raiders only."
"Well, here goes nothing," I sighed, grabbing my Data-vice, "come on Metalhead."
"Hey, you're not planing on fighting him are you," Ronan blocked my path.
"Of course not," I said, pushing past him, "although with my luck that may just be what happens, whether I plan to or not."
"Wait a minute," Carly stopped me, "I should go. Labramon is stronger than Kapurimon… no offense."
"None taken," Kapurimon squeaked.
"That wont work," Ronan warned her, "Labramon's AI* is active so it can't think on it's own. Any member of DiCE will be able to overpower Labramon."
"Besides, I got us into this mess, I'll get us out," I said walking down the hallway, "especially since all of this is so predictable anyway."
"Be careful," Carly wished me luck.
"You better not lose my Digimetal," Ronan warned me.
"I wont," I said as I scrolled for Southern Meatbone Fields in my new Passport.
"And you better not be planing on simply handing it over to him either," Carly knocked me on the back of the head.
"Fine… I wont," I growled.
"Okay everyone," Michel got our attention, speaking into his headphones, "the Terminal is ready for the Jump. There's only one Enemy present. Name: Luther. Digimon: Veemon. Level: Rookie. The calculated danger level is Easy.-"
"Did he script this," I asked Ronan.
"That's what an Operator is supposed to do," Ronan shrugged from down the hallway.
Michel took off his headphones for a moment, "It's the only thing that I'm supposed to do on the job. I really should ask for more fieldwork, but… Never mind, just make the Jump."
"Here goes nothing," I said as I took the plunge.
I blacked out again as I materialized six feet in the air. I threw my hands in the air in a useless attempt to stay airborne. Thanks to Newton's laws, I landed like a rock.
"Why didn't I see that coming," I shouted to the heavens.
"Why would you," Kapurimon asked from between my legs.
"This happens to every first time teleports," I said, scooping him up, "let's just be grateful that we don't have fly heads or bodies."
"Was that supposed to be a joke?"
"I was going to ask the two of you the same thing," Luther towered over us, "a baby Digimon against me? It must be a joke."
"You must be Luther," I jumped away from him, but tripped over a bush with a Meatbone sticking out of it, "What kind of crazy bush is that?"
"It's a Meatbone bush," Kapurimon went wide-eyed, "I haven't seen a Meatbone in forever!"
"So you're a newbie Raider with a barely liberated Digimon," Luther laughed, "this will be too easy."
"Okay Kapurimon, do your thing," I pointed.
"Howling Hertz," Kapurimon shouted as his antennae vibrated. I could almost see blue waves emitted, the bush next to Luther exploded.
"You missed," I shrieked at my partner.
"I'm nearly blind, remember," the metalhead shrugged as best as he could.
"You little rat! You actually tried to kill me," Luther shouted, he took out a different model of a Data-Vice, "Veemon Realize."
The blue digimon materialized in front of us.
"This kid has our Digimetal," Luther chuckled, "break him and his partner."
"Vee-headbutt," Veemon said in a monotone voice.
He jumped at us, but Kapurimon zapped him before he got close enough.
I rolled out of the way as Veemon crashed straight into the ground.
Veemon got back up, but walked around dizzily.
"What's wrong with you, Veemon," Luther spat, "quit messing around."
"My Howling Hertz is good for confusing then getting away from enemies," Kapurimon growled almost shaking in my grip, "not beating them."
"Attack them again, Veemon!"
The Veemon took a moment to recover before leaping half heartedly at us.
"Fine then, we'll use your head," I shouted.
"Don't you mean our heads," Kapurimon asked as I dodged the Vee-headbutt.
"Vee-headbutt," Veemon announced again.
"Nope, just yours," I said as I kicked Kapurimon helmet first at Veemon.
A moment later, I heard a distinct 'dong'.
Kapurimon was stuck on the dizzy Veemon's head like a bad party hat.
Kapurimon blinked a few times before he realized why he was stuck upside-down.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"Shut up and attack! You can't miss at that range," I shouted.
"Oh okay," Kapurimon got it, "Howling Hertz!"
Veemon was struck full force with Kapurimon's mind numbing sonic attack as if it came from an electric chair.
When it was all over, Veemon's eyes rolled to the back of his head and he fell backwards.
We did it.
"Yes, you did it," I shouted.
"Rea-all-lee, I-ee didint notisse," Kapurimon dizzily rolled back and forth on his… 'feet'.
"You little brat," Luther growled, "how dare you make a fool out of me!"
"You made a fool out of yourself," I shouted running up and grabbing Kapurimon, "Now we won, so tell us where Carly's Parents are."
"I don't have to tell you anything, brat," Luther walked up to his partner, "Get up Veemon."
Veemon did as he was ordered.
He stood up, despite the fact that he was half dead if not more.
He was slow and it had to be painful. He glazed over look in his eyes.
*1 AI refers to the Artificial Intelligence that was implanted into living Digimon to turn them into living Digipets. Despite that living Digimon have their own minds, active AI's overpower a Digimon's mind similar to Black Gears, or Dark Rings.*
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