Hopes
and Schemes
part
3
TaleSpin and its characters are property of Buena Vista / Disney Co. and are used without permission. All other characters are mine and cannot be used without permission.
The
Next Afternoon
Two
Miles West of Cape Suzette
Just out of range of the cliff guns, the air pirates' CT-37s circled in the clear blue sky like a flock of vultures. Their collective attention was on the cliff opening and, more specifically, the planes coming and going from said cliff opening.
When the Sea Duck sped by below them, Dumptruck said into his C.B.'s microphone, "How about dat big, juicy yellow cargo plane, Captain? I bet it has a lot of loot."
"How many times do I have to remind you pathetic pirates?" Don Karnage impatiently said into his own mike. "We are only hijacking Shere Khan's planes."
"Why are we getting revenge on Shere Khan?" Mad Dog whined.
"This is not about revenge! This is about getting even."
Mad Dog accepted that explanation without a second thought. "Oh. That's different, then."
Karnage ordered, "Keep your eyeballs peeled, men. Maybe not this minute, maybe not the next, but sometime soon, one of Khan's planes will come along with our names on it."
Gibber whispered into his mike.
"Of course it won't have 'Gibber' painted on it, idiot! That was a mere figuring of my speech."
Meanwhile...
The
Sea Duck
Baloo was steering with his feet and wrestling with a chart. Obviously, the chart was winning, because it was clinging to his face like a leech. With a cry of frustration, the big bear ripped it from him. He glared at the chart, which had landed on the co-pilot's seat, then took a deep breath, and determinedly picked it up, stretching it taut between both hands at arm's length. "All right-y now. If Cape Suzette is here, then Crab Town must be..."
He squinted at the tiny words on the chart, superimposed across oceans of blue and lands of green. "It's..." he looked at one corner; "no..." he scrutinized the opposite corner; "no..." he studied the two remaining corners; "no! Aw, doggone it! How am I supposed to deliver crabs to Crab Town if I can't find Crab Town? Hey, stay cool, Baloo. No need to get crabby. Maybe ya can't find Crab Town on this chart, because it ain't on this chart." He crumpled it up and tossed it over his shoulder.
He then opened the glove compartment. An avalanche of charts, parking tickets, sunglasses, candy wrappers, and bottle caps spilled out.
"Swell."
The irritated bear set the autopilot - a crowbar slung across the control yoke - and bent down to pick the charts out of the clutter. "Where's a navigator when I need one?" he muttered to himself. He pulled a wad of old gum off of one of the charts and popped it into his mouth. "Every time I try to go somewheres, I get lost tryin' ta find it or I get lost when I get there, just like last month's crazy trip to Walla-Walla Bing Bang."
He rifled through the charts. "Crab Town...Crab Town...ah-ha!" Glancing at the compass on the control panel, he turned the plane towards the east.
A
Half Hour Later
Downtown
Riversidle
Rebecca and Molly stepped out of the grocery store and headed towards their car, which was parked a block away. Humming to herself and to Lucy, whom she cradled, Molly skipped along the sidewalk, happy that she had persuaded her mother into buying not one, but two cartons of Frosty Pep ice cream. However, Rebecca wasn't as happy as her daughter, for she was wrestling with two heavy sacks containing a week's worth of groceries as well as problems about her as-of-yet nonexistent future business.
Hearing the sound of propellers, Molly stopped in her tracks and looked up to see a yellow seaplane soaring above them. "Lookee, Mom. A plane!" the little girl cried, pointing skywards. She watched it until it disappeared from sight.
Without looking up, Rebecca said absently, "I see it." She was more concerned about making it to the car without dropping the bags. "Open the door, honey."
Molly stood on tiptoe and tugged on the handle of the rear door, allowing it to swing open.
As Rebecca slid the sacks into the car's backseat, she murmured, "I just can't believe it."
"That a plane flew over? Hey, there it goes again!" the little girl exclaimed as the orange-trimmed yellow plane circled back.
Rebecca briefly glanced up at the plane, which was now making wide circles over the city as if the pilot were either lost or joyriding.
"Get in the car, Pumpkin." Rebecca shut the rear car door and got behind the wheel. More to herself than to her daughter, she said despairingly, "In the whole city of Riversidle, there isn't one, single failing business, and I called every bank and used every connection that I could think of."
Molly, who was pressing Lucy to the window so that the doll could watch the plane with her, suggested, "Well...what if you tried another city?"
Rebecca's eyes lit up. "Molly, you're a genius!"
"Nuh-huh, I'm a bear."
Rebecca chuckled as she started the car.
A
Month Later
Pirate
Island
"Come on. Hurry it up, already!" Mad Dog whined.
"Go faster, you little creepy-crawly," Dumptruck cheered.
Smugly, Hal said, "Mine is gonna beat the socks off yours, Mad Dog."
Mad Dog retorted, "Is not."
"Is, too."
"Is not, not, not!"
"Is, too, too, too!"
Kit, surrounded by cheering men, was sitting on a rock in Pirate Island's main cavern. He stifled a yawn. The cockroach races never ceased to excite his fellow pirates, but to the eleven-year-old, they had long ago lost their luster.
When one of the cockroaches hopped across the line scratched in the dirt, Mad Dog crowed, "Ha! Mine won! Mine won!"
Hal growled, "It doesn't count. The fly fell off."
"You wanna make a big deal of it, big mouth?"
"Yeah, bean pole!"
"Who you callin' bean pole, fatty?" Mad Dog cried. He punched Hal as hard as he could in the stomach, but the husky feline didn't move an inch.
Hal laughed scornfully. "Is that the best you can do?" In retaliation, he gave Mad Dog a rough shove, causing him to backpedal until he slammed against the wall and slumped to the floor.
"Ow!" Mad Dog whined, dizzily getting up. He glared at Dumptruck. "Don't just stand there, dum-dum. Are you going to let him treat me like that?"
"Er...no, Mad Dog." Dumptruck bodily picked Hal up and sent him flying across the room.
Kit ducked, but the pirates standing behind him didn't. They crashed to the floor like bowling pins.
The boy knew that that was his cue to leave. The last time he'd been caught in a pirate brawl, he'd woken up two days later with a black eye and broken ribs. Of course, that time he had been caught unawares. This time he knew to heed the warning signs.
He dodged between kicking legs and ducked around flying fists until he reached the cavern's doorway. Glancing back at the thick cloud of dust that now enshrouded the melee, he could hear punches, cries of pain, and angry oaths. He knew that the fight was just a way for the dim-witted pirates to break up the monotony of the past few days.
Entertainment was scarce between raids and pillages. Besides eating, sleeping, and a few assigned chores, there just wasn't that much to do. Furthermore, they really didn't have anything to look forward to, because they never knew when the next heist would be. Karnage always kept his plans strictly hush-hush.
A very bored Kit wandered through the warm, dusty passageways, mechanically avoiding booby-traps and kicking at loose pebbles.
He paused outside Karnage's room. At that moment, he would have loved to have an intelligent conversation with someone. Someone with an I.Q. bigger than the cockroaches they raced.
Kit tentatively knocked on the door.
From inside the room, Karnage's voice came floating out. "If you brought a present, come in."
When Kit opened the door, a big smile crossed the captain's rugged wolfish features. "Ah, my puny protege. You are just in time to help me with a persistent problem that has been bothering me for a long time."
Kit was so flattered that he forgot that he was supposed to be a rough, tough burly pirate. He squeaked, "Me?"
"Do you see any other proteges here?" Karnage asked, tapping his foot impatiently.
"Nope," the boy replied, his habitual tough-guy attitude returning. He swaggered into the room. "I'm the one and only."
Kit was glad to be needed by someone. His eyes lit up when he noticed several charts spread out upon the table. It had been a long time since he had used the navigational skills that he had acquired during his hobo days. However, he tried not to sound too eager when he asked, "What's the problem?"
"Which of these is more worthy of my greatness?"
"Huh? Oh..." Disappointed, Kit focused his attention on the black and brown sheaths that Karnage was holding. Both were identical except for color. He hesitantly pointed to the black one.
"You know, that one is my especial favorite, too." He slapped Kit on the back so hard that the boy stumbled forward. Then he strapped the sheath around his waist, plunged his sword into it, and turned to the full-length mirror to admire himself. "For havingexcellemundo taste like me, you should be rewarded." He picked up a red handkerchief from the top of his dresser and knotted it around Kit's neck. "There. Ah-ha!" He led the boy to the mirror. "Did you ever see anything so handsome, meaning my wonderful self, that is?"
Kit silently shook his head and tried not to gasp aloud. The scarf was a little too tight.
After a few minutes of posturing, Karnage said, "Are you still there? Was there anything you wanted?"
"Naw...I just had a question."
"Speak up. I always listen sometimes."
"Do...do you ever get tired of..." He wanted to say 'being a pirate'. Instead, he said, "Being the handsomest pirate in the world?"
Karnage laughed. "Of course not! What a silly-willy thing to say. Now, go. Run away and find some other thing to do. I am most busy here. Mirror, mirror on the wall. Who is the handsomest pirate of them all?"
Kit slipped out, leaving Karnage posing in front of the mirror.
Once again, Kit wandered restlessly through the passageways that connected the caverns, wondering what to do next. He came at last to the interior cove where the Iron Vulture was docked. He picked up a few stones and made them skip across the still, dark water. Between splashes, he could hear a faint pinging, as of a hammer. He surmised that Rachet was doing some repairs.
Kit dropped the rest of the pebbles and jogged towards the open beak. For a pirate, Ratchet was fairly easygoing and he had even let Kit help him with airplane repairs before.
"Ratchet?" Kit's voice echoed throughout the hangar.
No reply met his ears except the faint, far-away sound of hammering.
He was about to turn away when he noticed the CT-37s tantalizingly lined up against the walls of the hangar. After a quick glance around to make sure he truly was alone, he climbed into the cockpit of the plane nearest the door.
He had begged Karnage repeatedly to teach him to fly, but the captain's reply was always the same: "I'm not letting a juvenile delinkidy-wink fly."
But that didn't deter Kit. It had been his lifelong dream to be a pilot. Flying was constantly on his mind. He ate it, slept it, and thought about it every ten seconds, at least.
Kit's hands trembled with excitement as he gripped the control yoke and ran his eager eyes over the control panel.
He knew without a shadow of a doubt that he could pilot this plane. After all, he had read about it and had seen it done a million times. And if those stupid pirates could fly, so could he.
No one was around, therefore no one would know if he just started it up.
With a determined expression on his face, he pulled the pre-ignition catalyzer, pressed the 'start' button and...
Vroom!
The engine purred to life. The prop wash ruffled his hair as well as his new red bandana. He could feel the plane's vibration coursing through his body.
A big smile spread across his face. This was the most fun he had had in a long time.
Then the smile slid from his face when he remembered the pirates.
His eyes fixed on the open beak, Kit waited with baited breath. He was sure that someone would have heard the engine's roar echoing in the cavernous hangar. However, when no one appeared, he decided that it wouldn't hurt to just taxi around the hangar. He scooted to the edge of seat in order to reach the foot pedal. When he pressed the pedal down with the tip of his toes, the plane lurched forward.
"Whoa!" he cried, removing his foot from the pedal as quickly as if he had stepped on a nail.
Learning from his mistake, this time, he gently tapped the pedal.
"Ah-ha!" he shouted exultantly as the CT-37 glided forward slowly. Holding the control yoke with one hand, he reached over to the machine gun. "Enemy fighters at four o'clock. Fire! Fire!"
Caught up in the excitement of his imaginary game, Kit's hands accidentally gripped the trigger of the machine gun too tightly, causing a burst of rapid gunfire to pour from the gun and...
KA-BOOM!
When Kit dared to open his eyes, he saw a mass of flaming wreckage of what had once been three CT-37s.
"Oh...no!" he squeaked. He quickly turned off the engine and scrambled down from the cockpit just as he heard the sounds of running feet pounding towards the Iron Vulture.
"What is it?" Mad Dog whined from the edge of the open beak.
"It looks like der bonfire," Dumptruck said.
Coughing a little from the smoke, Hal added, "Aw, I forgot the marshmallows."
"Shut up, you idiots, and put that fire out before we all go boom-boom!"
The other pirates hurried off to find buckets.
Seeing Kit trying to sneak past him, Karnage shouted, "You! Boy!"
Knees trembling, Kit spun around. If he hadn't have already been scared, the look of concentrated fury on the captain's face would have made him scared. Despite his fear, he squared his shoulders, donned his habitual tough expression, and forced himself to walk calmly towards Karnage. "You called?"
"Did you create this messy messiness?"
Defiantly, Kit retorted, "So what if I did?"
Don Karnage backhanded Kit across the face. "Do not use that tone-age with me!" Slap! "And always..." Slap! "call me..." Slap! "Captain!" Slap!
Kit's cheeks stung and his pride pricked with resentment. The other pirates' snickering only fueled his anger. Sullenly, he muttered, "Yes...Captain."
Karnage glared down at Kit. "This time you made the wrong mistake. We must find an appropriately appalling punishment for you."
Later...
Karnage ushered Kit, who was carrying a mop and a bucket of soapy water, into the Iron Vulture's kitchen. "As punishment for your estupide stupidness, I want you to pick up every scrap of garbage, then mop the entire Iron Vulture from top to bottomouses. Make it span and spick, got it?"
Drearily, Kit said, "Got it, Captain."
The kitchen was filthy. Garbage was strewn all over the floor and there was crusty food splattered on the walls from countless food fights.
"I want this floor clean enough to eat off of. No more of this dirt and stickery."
"Yes, Captain."
After Karnage left, Kit started picking up garbage. "Why are pirates such slobs?"
Two Hours Later
Kit walked out of the kitchen with a full trash can. It had taken him two whole hours just to pick up the trash and scrape the food off the walls. After he disposed of the trash, finally he could mop and move to the next room.
As he struggled with the putrid-smelling, cumbersome trash can, who should come strolling down the hallway but Mad Dog and Dumptruck.
"There's the little protege, picking up garbage." Mad Dog smirked.
Dumptruck snickered. "Do you like your new job?"
"Maybe we should help out."
"Right."
They both took hold of the trash can and dumped it over Kit's head, burying him in a mound of trash.
"Thanks a lot, guys!" Kit gasped, pushing his way up through the used paper products, rancid rinds, and an unidentifiable greyish brown glop.
Between guffaws, the pirates said, "Don't mention it."
"Our pleasure."
"See ya," Mad Dog sneered. "Wouldn't wanna be ya."
Chuckling, Dumptruck added, "Yeah."
As they continued down the hallway, they lustily sang, "Old MacDonald had a farm..."
Kit glared after them. "I'll Old MacDonald you," he muttered. With a sigh, he turned the trash can upright and started to pile the trash back into it.
Iron
Vulture
3:30
AM
Kit, exhausted, aching, and angry, carried the mop and the bucket of water into the radio room. After he had cleaned this room, he could sleep. He was so tired that he knew that he could even sleep through his roommates' snoring.
But before he started mopping, he decided to take a little rest.
He sank into the leather chair. Before him was the radio. He had seen it used, so he knew how it worked. He donned the headphones and flipped the switch to turn it on, but all he heard was static.
He turned the knob to a different frequency.
More static.
Guess there's nobody up at this time of night.
Despite his fading hopes, he continued to turn the knob slowly. He was desperate to hear a friendly voice, even if it was the voice of a stranger.
Finally, he heard a man say, "...your position? Over."
"Flying above the NoSmokey Mountains. Will reach Cape Suzette by 0430 hours. Over."
"Cargo onboard? Over."
"Cargo is onboard and secure. You know, this is one pretty stone. Bigger than any ruby my grandmother has. Over."
"You shouldn't be talking about the stone, Duane. Over."
"Relax, Carl. No one's listening this time of night. Over."
"You'd better hope not. That thing is worth a fortune and if it falls into the wrong hands, the big boss will be steamed. Over."
"Gosh! I mean gosh," Kit whispered to himself. He had stumbled onto something both interesting and valuable. He pressed the headphones closer to his ears, eagerly listening for more information.
"What Shere Khan doesn't know won't hurt him. Over."
Static ripped through the headphones, causing Kit to wince.
"...was that, Duane? Over."
"...storm. Nothing...about. Over."
"...know what'll happen if you...by lightning. Over."
An intense burst of static made Kit's ears tingle. As he removed the headphones, his mind was awhirl.
A jewel worth a fortune? That was exactly what he needed to break free from the pirates once and for all and buy a plane of his own.
But how to get it?
After accidentally blowing up three CT-37s, he knew Karnage would keep closer tabs on him. He couldn't fly and he definitely couldn't swim from Pirate Island.
Slowly, an idea came to him. Maybe if I can get Karnage to steal it for me.
BANG! went the radio room's door as it slammed shut behind someone.
Kit spun in the chair, his heart leaping into his throat. In the doorway stood Don Karnage, clad in his purple monogrammed bathrobe. He held a sandwich and had a book - Do It Yourself Electronics - tucked under one arm.
"What are you doing sitting down, you juvenile delinkity-wink? Get back to work!"
"Whatever you say, Captain." Kit shrugged. His mind was working overtime as he hopped out of the chair and plunged the mop into the bucket. "Guess you don't want to hear about something that can make you the richest man in the world."
"What do you know that I don't know yet?"
As he mopped, he said airily, "Oh...it's not that important. Just a jewel. You've stolen tons of jewels before."
Karnage dropped his sandwich and book, grabbed Kit by the front of his shirt, and lifted the boy so that they were face to face. "Spill the baked beans."
"Well, I was listening to the radio..." Kit said slowly. He knew that the more he prolonged the suspense, the more Karnage would be interested.
"The jewel!" The captain tightened his grasp on the boy's sweater. "What about it?"
"A giant ruby...worth a fortune," Kit gasped out. "Best part of it is that it belongs to..."
"Who, who, who?"
"Shere Khan."
Karnage shook Kit roughly until his head felt like a maraca. "Anything else?"
"That's all I heard," Kit said, truthfully enough.
Karnage dropped Kit like a hot potato. After putting on the headphones to hear about the jewel for himself, he glared at Kit. "What are you lying there for, boy?"
"The mopping...?" Kit began, pointing towards the mop and bucket.
"You are done. Finito.Go. Leave me in pieces."
Biting his lip to keep from smiling, Kit slowly got to his feet and gathered the mop and bucket, all the while intently watching Karnage.
The pirate captain was muttering, "I don't care a hooting owl about Aunt Milly's gallstones. Tell me about the jewel. The jewel!"
Suddenly, Karnage seemed extremely interested in something that he had heard. He scooped up Do It Yourself Electronics and flipped it open.
Kit jumped, startled, when the captain whooped for joy.
Karnage flung the headphones aside and rushed out of the room, shouting at the top of his lungs, "Get up, you very stupid pirates! Get up! I have a very important-type announcement! "
"Wait!" Kit cried, chasing after him. "What is it, Captain?"
"We are going to plunder Cape Suzette, and this time it will work!"
"But...but how?" Kit couldn't see how a they could plunder Cape Suzette with a mere jewel.
Karnage smiled fondly down at him. "I will not tell you at this momentous moment, my boy, but you can be very ensured that it will give a whole new meaning to the word 'piratical proceedings'."
End of part 3
