Chapter VI - Protoman's Little Friend

Marty began to stretch his body, starting from his upper torso, and working down to his legs. Snake, Vegeta and Protoman continued to watch him, never blinking once.

Marty stopped his stretching exercises and gazed at them, "What in the bowels of Christ are you two staring at?"

"Um, nothing!" Snake replied.

"Certainly not your ridiculously over-muscled, reptilian-looking tank you call your body, sir." said Vegeta.

Marty stared at him, and paused, "I'll take your fear-induced accidental sarcasm as a compliment, boy"

Once he finished stretching, Marty punched his hand into a side-panel near the driver's seat, and pulled out a rather large firearm. It was a long gun, with four rotating barrels, which was fed bullets through a long bullet chain.

"Holy mother of fuck." exclaimed Snake, wide-eyed.

"I know, ain't she a beaut?" said Marty, throwing the bullet chains over his shoulder, "Even has a spiffy built-in flamethrower, for nasty close-encounters. Roasts a tasty cow too."

Snake and Vegeta began to chuckle with nervous laughter, until they realized that Marty was serious. They both gulped simultaneously.

Marty glanced out the window beside him on the right, and noticed the black BMW gaining on them.

"Hmm," Marty looked up, and spotted the emergency escape hatch, "Stay put, I'll be right back."

Marty lept up onto the handrails of the bus, and opened the hatch.

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"We're almost on them," said Trevor Belmont, smirking, "Next stop, Solid Snake, you're mine."

As he followed the bus, he noticed a man that was climbing on top of it from the inside. He was overly muscular, having the body of a muscle builder, but his face was that of an older person, possibly in his mid-fifties.

"What the hell is he doing?" he asked himself. Mario began to watch the man too.

The man looked like he was trying to lift something through the top of the bus. After a while, he finally pulled it through. It was a long, four barrelled machine gun, with a long bullet chain hanging out of it, which wrapped itself around the man, and down into the bus.

The man aimed the gun at the black BMW, and grinned.

"Mama mia!" exclaimed Mario, "He's-ah going to fire!"

Trevor chuckled, "Not to worry, my embarrassingly stereotypical Italian acquaintance. You don't buy a car like this and not take certain precautions."

The man pulled the trigger of the machine gun, and bullets came flying out of it at lightning speed. Each of the four barrels began to rotate, as a continuous spark of gunfire spewed from the nozzle.

Unfortunately, each bullet that was fired from the gigantic gun simply ricocheted off of Trevor's car. This, however, didn't cease his firing.

Trevor chuckled again, "Re-inforced bulletproof steel. Only the best for Big City's biggest bachelor."

"But how are we-ah gonna get at him?" asked Mario.

"Aux contrair," said Belmont, "I've got just the thing for him."

Trevor lifted his cigarette lighter, and shoved his finger inside, pressing a hidden button. Out of the back of the BMW, from the trunk, a hidden door opened, and a small gun came out.

"Prepare to meet your end, cretin!" Trevor yelled, and pressed another button on the underside of his steering wheel. The gun took aim at the man on top of the bus...

... and shot him with a large stream of water, completely drenching him.

"Yes! A direct hit!" exclaimed Trevor, smiling.

Mario stared at him, scowling.

Trevor stared back for a second, "You know, holy water."

Mario still stared.

"... the vampires, they don't like it..." Trevor added.

Mario slapped Trevor in the back of the head. He then motioned towards the bus, "Get me out of his line of fire."

Trevor slowed the car down, and got his car behind the bus.

"Don't tell me you're going up there." said Trevor.

Mario nodded, "This embarrassing Italian stereotype has a few tricks up his sleeve."

Trevor nodded back, and reached across to his glove compartment. He opened it up, and reached deep inside, until he felt a flip switch. When he switched it, the roof of his BMW slid back, into convertible mode.

"Why are all of these buttons in such ridiculous places?" asked Mario.

"Those dealers, it's how they get you." Trevor replied.

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"How're you holdin' up down there?" asked Marty, maintaining his balance on top of the moving bus.

"Not too bad!" replied Sephiroth, "Scared shitless, but that's alright."

"That's good," said Marty, "Fear fuels the senses, keeps you alert."

Snake looked up through the open escape hatch, "How's the situation up there?" he asked.

"Well," Marty began, "Their car is behind us, out of firing range, and a short man dressed in red and blue just climbed out of the sunroof."

Marty watched as the man reached into his pocket, and pulled out a yellow feather. He then flashed white, and reappeared, now wearing a yellow cape around his shoulders. He took one leap forward, and flew onto the bus. The BMW closed the sunroof, and returned to following the side of the bus.

Marty smirked, "Unarmed, huh? You have balls, little man."

"My name is-ah Mario," the short man replied.

"I respect you, Mario," said Marty, who reached into his left boot, and pulled out a combat knife, "It'll be a shame to waste such a worthy opponent."

Mario untied the cape from his shoulders, which returned back into a feather, and placed it back into his pocket. He then pulled his hand back, and it lit on fire. The fire formed into a ball in his palm, and he thrusted it at Marty.

Marty watched as the fireball's weight forced it to fall, and bounce off the top of the bus. When it reached Marty, it barely hit his shin before it disappeared.

Marty stared at Mario, "It that it? You intend to singe my ankles?" he laughed.

Mario scowled at Marty, and lept into the air. He came down on top of Marty, and planted his shoe across Marty's face.

"Yes! Yes!" exclaimed Marty, "That's more like it!"

Marty then swiped at Mario with the combat knife, holding it backwards in his hand. The blade had just missed cutting Mario, and instead, ripped his left shoulder suspender.

Mario paused to inspect the damage. Marty smirked and held the knife out.

"Nice coin," Marty said, "It yours?" He was holding in his other hand a large, oval golden coin.

Mario reached into his pocket, where it once was, to find it missing.

"Give it back!" he yelled.

"Come take it." said Marty.

At that moment, a large whip wrapped itself around Marty's wrist, and tried to pull him off the side of the bus. He looked backwards, and saw Trevor Belmont on top of his BMW, whip in hand.

Marty yanked on the whip, and Trevor fell off of his car, hitting the side of the bus. He never let go of his whip.

The car eventually lost control. It slid off the road, and was stopped by a concrete lamppost. The fuel leaked from the force of the impact, and sparks caused the entire car to explode.

"Shit." Belmont uttered, and climbed up the side of the bus.

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Back below, Sephiroth was still struggling to maintain control of the bus.

"How does it look, Snake?" yelled Sephiroth.

"Now Mario AND Trevor are up there fighting him. They've got him surrounded." replied Snake.

"Think someone should give him a hand?" asked Vegeta.

"Sure, but I ain't doing it." said Snake.

"Why not?" asked Sephiroth.

"After last night, my sense of balance is off-kilter, you know? I'll fall off before I'm even standing upright." said Snake.

"Well I'M not going up there." said Vegeta.

"Why not?" asked Snake.

Vegeta paused for a second, "... because I think that Protoman should do it." he said, turning around to point at Protoman. He had gone missing from the bus, the only passenger left being a homeless man in the back.

"Where IS he, anyway?" Vegeta asked, before he was swiftly kicked in the face by a metal foot hanging from the ceiling of the bus.

Snake looked up, and saw Protoman struggling to climb up through the escape hatch at the top of the bus.

"Well I'll be..." Snake said.

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"Hey, Marty." said Protoman, sticking his head through the top of the bus. Marty was standing next to him, Mario stood behind Marty, near the front of the bus, and Trevor stood in front of him, near the back.

"Hey there, friend," greeted Marty, "Nice of you to join me up here."

Protoman climbed up from below, and stood up. His yellow scarf flapped violently in the wind.

"Those are the bad guys, right?" he asked Marty, pointing one finger to Trevor and motioning his head towards Mario.

"That's right." replied Marty.

"Mmkay." said Protoman, nodding. He then lifted his right arm towards Trevor, and his hand disappeared into his forearm. His forearm then expanded, and took on the shape of a cannon. Along the top was a row of square buttons.

Protoman pressed the first button in the row, and the inside of the arm cannon began to glow. A pulsing sound began to emit from it, which grew slowly louder. When the sound ceased, Protoman aimed his arm, and shot a large burst of energy at Trevor.

"Oh God, no--!" were the only words Trevor was able to get out before the burst hit him. It knocked him, and also a considerable portion of the bus itself, onto the road behind him.

Protoman turned to gaze at Mario.

"Uh..." started Mario, "I think I'll-ah just let-ah myself out, thank you." He then turned, and jumped off the side of the bus, rolling into a ditch at the side of the road.

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"Where in the hell did he learn how to do THAT?" asked Vegeta, staring up at Protoman, who was converting his arm back to it's original form.

"I have no fucking clue," replied Snake, "I obviously missed that portion of the fine print..."

"What happened, guys? What was that noise?" asked Sephiroth, still focused on driving the bus.

"Protoman just blew up the back of the bus." replied Vegeta. Just as he finished talking, a large metal foot kicked Vegeta in the head, again, knocking him down. Protoman then jumped back down into the bus, followed by Marty.

"HA!" laughed Sephiroth, turning back and smiling, "That's our Protoman!"

Everyone followed suit into laughter, except Vegeta, who simply grumbled at he got up off the floor.

And then the road disappeared from below the bus, and it's screaming passengers were lifted into the air as the bus tumbled downwards.

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