Filler: Ratchet's Dream
"Hey Ratchet!" yelled Clank. Ratchet opened his eyes, and saw that he was lying facedown on his penthouse Emperor-of-the-Universe sized bed. Shifting his head slightly to the right, he saw his familiar metal nightstand and his closet."Ratchet!" The robot started shaking his bed. "It's Breakfast! Wouldn't-want-it-to-get-cold!" said Clank in between kicks.
"All right, all right!" responded his friend with a yawn. Ratchet lazily rolled out of bed, taking some bed sheets and a pillow down with him. "Let me just get dressed first, kay?"
Clank grumbled and slammed the door behind him. Ratchet smirked, and walked to his closet.
Tapping in the key code without looking, he mused about the dream he had last night. There was something about landing back home and Clank getting angry with aliens or something.
He suddenly broke out of his daydream when he realized he repeated the unlock code several times over. Ratchet shook his head, trying to clear out the bizarre memories. He opened the door of the walk-in, trying to think whether he should dress up in his dark green long shorts or his dark green cutoff pants.
Whatever thoughts of garments instantly vanished as he saw a familiar blue sewage worker rummaging through a toolbox, his back faced to him. The lombax's heart skipped a beat when the Plumber noticed him and turned, the extra weight clearly shown through his too tight overalls.
"Oh hi! You have any sewer crystals on you by any chance?!" asked the Plumber cheerfully, his overweight form jiggling from side to side.
"AAAAAAAAAA!!!" shrieked Ratchet in unrestrained terror, diving to his right and slamming the door shut. Pulling out his blaster from the nightstand he rolled over his bed and pushed it onto its side. Using the mattress for makeshift cover, he trained the firearm at the door. "Hey! Can you at least spare some money for the shuttle!" protested the Plumber through the door.
"Clank! CLANK!" shouted Ratchet, partly confused, furious, and scared shitless.
"Yes?" responded the robot politely from downstairs. "Having closet troubles? Can't find your favorite pair of Quark underoos?" He giggled at his own joke, which would have annoyed Ratchet if it weren't for the fact an overweight alien sewage was present inside his linen closet.
"Uh, Yeah! Clothes! Trouble!" replied Ratchet, trying futilely to his hands steady. I've seen some pretty weird crap in my years, but this one takes the cake!
"Okay Ratchet what horrible tragedies have begotten you now?" asked Clank, as he stomped up the stairs. "Don't like the tights I got from Heroes Plus? I hear it's very popular with the ladies. You want to attract the ladies don't you? If you don't it's okay. I mean if you're attracted to the same sex that's also okay. I'll just change your TV favorites to Queer Eye and that supposed "Manly Channel" which is for men or somewhat. Ratchet-" Clank paused upon seeing his friend cowering from behind his bed, nervously pointing the blaster at the door.
"What are you doing?" inquired Clank in annoyance, his hands on his hips.
"P-p-p-p-p-plum-pluma-pluma
nnnn C-c-c-close-CLOSET!" stammered the Lombax.
"The
plumber's in the closet?" Clank raised an eyebrow. His partner
nodded in reply, too traumatized to respond verbally. Clank sighed
exasperatedly, stomped off to the other side of the room, punched in
the code, and kicked the closet open. A few seconds of silence
passed before Clank answered.
"I think you should see this, Ratchet!" Clank said with a barely concealed giggle.
Ratchet, who was clutching the pistol against his chest, cringed at his friend's voice. Cautiously he took a quick peek from out behind the mattress, and saw nothing but Clank waving at him. It could be a trick, better play at safe. Can't forget about Klunk he reminded himself, resisting the urge to run.
Picking up a particularly bulky cushion, he held it out in front like a shield. Inching across the room with the improvised riot shield, Ratchet started toward the closet.
"Are you alright, Ratchet?" said Clank with a concerned tone.
"I'm fine! Better than ever!" mumbled back Ratchet.
20 minutes later, Ratchet stood by his open closet door. Bracing himself up against the wall, he steeled himself for the encounter.
"Okay motherfucker, let's do this!" growled Ratchet, weakly attempting to be frightening. Chucking the pillow in for a diversion, he jumped into the walk-in, tackled the robot to the carpet, and rammed the Blaster under the chin.
"Did you get into Skid's stash again?" inquired Clank, seemingly unconcerned from the fact his best friend had his foot pressing down upon his chest compartment. "I was just going to tell you I found those educational brochures on the biology of various species you cried all last night about losing." He lifted up a stack of very worn and ripped adult magazines from out beneath a pile of stained laundry.
"Oh."
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Ratchet buried his face into his hands. Assaulting his best friend inside a closet while hallucinating about imaginary plumbers wasn't the best way to start a morning. He lied back down onto his bed, trying to forget about that shameful accident. He broke out of his lamentations when he felt familiar cold fingers nudging him on his shoulder.
"Yeah, Clank?" said Ratchet through his fingers, being too embarrassed to show his face. Clank continued prodding Ratchet until he took his hands off his face.
Clank was standing next to his now readjusted bed, holding a large tray crammed with various bowls and plates.
"Your
breakfast," Clank said in his normal tone of voice. He didn't
sound or look any angrier than he was before that fiasco.
"Oh,
thanks!" Briefly overcome by a sudden hunger pang, he snatched the
tray of food out of his friend's hands. Right before he sunk his
fork into the caviar omelet, though, he stopped himself.
"Um, Clank, I' m sorry about this morning and stuff. I didn't know what the hell was happening all along. I just wanted to thank you for, um, bearing with the fact I acted, uh, irresponsible,"
"That's okay, Ratchet," said Clank quietly before leaving the room. The door shut behind him, leaving the bedroom in stark silence. Ratchet and his breakfast were by themselves.
Ratchet took this time to reflect upon what he saw last night that made him so terrified. We were flying to Veldin and…something about an Empire…Drek, Vox, Otto? No, couldn't have been. Ratchet started shoveling yogurt into his mouth, but didn't take the time to taste it. Something about a crashed alien ship. Tossing away the cup, he picked up a box of Quark-O's and started pouring in miniature versions of the Q-Force into his cereal bowl.
For good measure, He stuffed a handful of Quarks, Helgas, Als, into his mouth; making sure it wasn't stale. After several minutes of slow chewing, he decided that it past his test.
His mind was elsewhere while the milk was pouring. Clank was worried about something… Ratchet snapped out of his daydream when he saw that the milk had spilled over the rim.
Spooning cereal into his jaws, Ratchet started chewing; trying to get his mind off last night. The cereal felt strange however: like half cooked sausages and noodles. Frowning, he spat some out onto his hand.
Ratchet immediately threw the entire serving tray, (plates and all) out of the back window.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!! WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORMS!!!" screamed the Lombax. Ratchet half ran half stumbled to the bathroom sink, stuck his mouth under the faucet and put it on full blast. A full minute of vigorous scrubbing passed before the Lombax emerged from the restroom.
"CLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANK!!!!!"
"Yes Ratchet? What is it now?" Clank said, running back upstairs. Ratchet was against the headboard, his sheets torn and stained, with shattered plates and assorted gourmet cuisine splattered over the floors and walls. "I assume the meal was not to your liking?"
"WHAT IS YOUR MAJOR MALFUNCTION CLANK!?THERE WERE MOTHERFUCKING WORMS IN MY MOTHERFUCKING CEREAL!" shrieked Ratchet at the top of his lungs.
Ratchet glared at Clank, expecting an answer, an apology, a comeback.
"Orxonese Sugar Worms," said the robot slowly, breaking the awkward silence. "A delicacy in numerous systems. It was going to be a surprise present for the new premier of the movie. A single worm may cost up to a 100 bolts each…
"I didn't kno-"
But that's not it, Ratchet. It's me Ratchet that you hate, don't you! I get all the women, the fame, the glory! You think that you're so special, with your Stunderwear and your wrench. But who always saves your ass huh? It was me who you relied on, who saved you, who appealed to your every whim and desire!"
"Clank, I'm just---"
But-AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!" The robot sank to his knees, clutching his head as if were about to explode. And as suddenly as the outburst began, it stopped. Clank got upon one knee, then another. He outwardly looked the same, but the eyes…
"B-bud?" Ratchet stammered out, not knowing what to say.
"Fuck you asshole!" growled Clank, climbing onto the foot of the bed.
The Lombax was stunned; never before has he seen him so furious, and this was the first time he has heard him swear. Clank whipped out what appeared to be some sort of archaic rifle and pointed it straight at the Lombax's head.
"Eat lead motherfucker !"
Where Ratchet's shocked face was present was now a giant, shell filled crater. Thankfully, Ratchet didn't need to be told twice to run when someone was pointing a gun at him. On the other hand, his lifelong friend has just gone off the deep end.
Just be glad he didn't get the Plasma Rifle from under the bed hoped Ratchet.
"Wrong!" Clank's robotic voice took on a horrible deep pitch, not resembling the kind, compassionate automaton he's known for the last 6 years of his life.
HE CAN READ MY MIND? HOLY SHIT!
He dropped to the floor as he heard the familiar crackling sound of plasma reacting with the open air. A lance of green lightning shot overhead, curling the hairs off the tip of his ears and melting a 5-foot wide hole in the wall. Several commemorative plaques and photo frames ignited.
If I can just get to the lift, thought Ratchet desperately, tumbling into the adjacent hallway. Jumping over a pile of stacked holovids, he sprinted in a zig-zag pattern, praying that Clank would somehow snap out of the delusions and recognize him.
Another flash of emerald light arced past the Lombax, causing him to instinctively jump to the left, causing Ratchet to painfully crash against the wall.
Almost there, Ratchet gritting his teeth in pain. Just one turn to the left and straight on to the elevator.
"I'll teach you to fuck with me!!" bellowed a horrible, gurgling voice. Ratchet took one look over his shoulder and browned his pants. Clank (or what was Clank) was now a 30-foot tall mass of heaving metal, blades, and weapons. The thing was rolling across the floor, crushing windows and picture frames as it slogged onwards.
The lombax barfed out the remains of anything that was in his digestive tract, ruining the beautiful imported carpet. Not sparing a second glance, Ratchet dashed madly to the lift. He kicked furniture and large appliances out of the way, being just too scared to feel the pain of his broken toes.
After finally reaching the double doors of the lift, he started hammering manically on the down button. "OPEN UP BITCH, OPEN THE FUCK UP!" shrieked out Ratchet, pounding his fists bloody. 5 horrific seconds of eternity passed before the doors of salvation heaved open. Ratchet flung himself in, landing with a sickening crunch as he broke his left collarbone from the impact.
Ratchet groaned in agony, and tried to steady himself. "Must…close…door!" he wheezed out. He reached out feebly to the door and pressed his palm up against the manual close. As he looked up, though, it came into the room.
"RAAAAATTCHHHHETHTH!" the thing half gurgled half roared.
"CLOSECLOSECLOSECLOSECLOSECLOSECLOSECLOSECLOSECLOSECLOSECLOSECLOSECLOSECLOSECLOSE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
The doors shut. Ratchet collapsed in relief, but not before a large circular blade spun into the small room. He didn't have time to dodge it. It flew straight at him. Ratchet could only shut his eyes and pray.
Like a bolt of lightning, pain flashed into his stomach. Looking down at, he saw that it had sliced open his stomach, leaving a giant gash. Ratchet could see his intestines start to tumble out like linked sausages, reminding him sickly of Al's hotdog party. Unable to take anymore, he lapsed into the haven of unconsciousness.
Ratchet awoke to the sound of the bell. Groaning in pain and blood loss, he staggered to his feet, and shuffled over to the door.
There was nothing on the other side. A dark void of utter blackness enclosed the steel box of the elevator in all directions. Not knowing what else to do, Ratchet peered down, praying fervently that it was just a mechanical failure.
Ratchet wished he didn't. A giant skeleton of black steel grinned at him from below, hanging from the edge with its metallic fingers. Clawing its way up, it slowly ascended until it stood before him, giggling insanely. Ratchet backed away, but tripped over a bump in the carpet, bashing his head against the ground.
The demon stood above him, the skull's grin mocking him. The thing bent down, its own face inches from Ratchet's own. It then spoke with a voice that was devoid of all pity and mercy.
"THE GODS OF CHAOS HAVE CHOSEN THEIR SACRIFIC: THE HERO OF FOUR GALAXIES."
The last thing Ratchet saw was a blood-red eight-pointed star and then everything faded to black.
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Ratchet bolted upwards in his chair, snapping out of his sleep. Quickly checking that all his limbs were present, he sighed in relief when he found that they were all still attached. We're still on Veldin. We're on a diplomatic mission. We're emissaries. Clank went out to scout.
"I'm alive!" shouted Ratchet to himself, laughing with pure joy. "FUCK YOU DEATH!
FUCK YOU!!!"
