Ch 9 - Friendship is Fake
"GET BACK HERE, SOUR BILL!" Turbo's screams resonated throughout the castle as he chased down the tiny green ball of candy who once served him. Sour Bill slid around a corner, scurrying as fast as his detached little feet would take him. What he had done to warrant the virus's anger he didn't know. But he did know that he didn't want to be around to find out. He also knew he wasn't getting any closer to losing the racer. He could still hear Turbo's threatening voice following him.
"OH, COME NOW, SOUR BILL, DON'T MAKE THIS ANY HARDER FOR YOURSELF! I JUST WANT TO TALK! MAYBE OVER A SNACK OR SOMETHING, HOO HOO!"
Oh lord, the man was going to eat him. This sudden horrifying thought only strengthened the sour ball's need for survival. Hunkering down he began rolling himself around corners, not unlike the pinball Turbo accused him of being. Making his way into the throne room he frantically searched for a place to hide before spotting one.
Not long after, Turbo made his way into the saccharine hall as well. He stepped lightly as he slunk around the room, careful not to alert the sour ball to his presence. In his view there were only a select few places for the candy to hide that wouldn't be found immediately. Sour Bill wasn't stupid in his opinion, just insignificant, so it was obvious he wouldn't hide behind a pillar. He wouldn't go further up into the castle, so the stairs were out. There was a crown shaped hole in the base of the throne, so that was a no go as well. Behind the curtains? Perfect!
"Well, I'd like to say it's been a pleasure knowing you, Sour Bill, but, unfortunately I'm not in the mood for jokes. So, I'll do us all a favor and cut to the chase, shall I?" With that said, he violently ripped the curtain open to find... nothing! No cowering sphere, no scream of surprise, nothing. Just an empty hall full of wires. Just when he was about to start ripping the curtain apart in anger, he heard a crash. Turnings swiftly, he found Sour Bill rolling away from a pile of broken candy shards. The vase! How the hell could he forget to check the code damned vase? He could feel the thick, sturdy tapestry tearing in half beneath his shaking fingers. NOW he was mad! Suddenly he was seeing red, as he chased down the dead candy who dared to run from him. His mind was filled with nothing but the angry crimson pixels that clouded his vision, consuming him whole in his rage. By the time he'd gotten past the castle entrance, he'd forgotten what he was chasing. He pushed passed the surprised guards, making it as far as the gate before finally collapsing in pain. Red was replaced with purple. Anger with agony. 'Not again! Not this! Not now!' his mind screamed. He was only able to get one weak word past his lips before his world faded to black.
"Va...Vanellope!"
When he woke he found himself in the Fungeon. Or more appropriately the dungeon, as, at the moment, he couldn't find anything fun about the situation. His arms were chained to the wall, each one held on opposite sides of his head. His hands were only just starting to go numb, so he couldn't have been there too long. Just long enough for it to start hurting. The next thing he noticed was that his head was cold. He wasn't wearing his helmet. That could only mean one thing.
"Vanellope?" he croaked hoarsely. Sure enough, there she was, on the opposite side of the dungeon, sitting on his helmet as if it were a stool. He was about to yell at the pixie to get off of his head gear, but an object in her hands suddenly caught all his attention. It was the picture of him! The macaroni art portrait, made to express his visage. She was sitting there, just staring at it. He couldn't tell if she was surprised, upset, or even angry at seeing it. Her expression was blank. Did she even know what it was? Was it possible that she remembered it being in her castle? He couldn't say. When he had attempted to delete her, he didn't count on her surviving. He knew for a fact that her memories weren't deleted. He'd seen small glimpses of the princess she used to be, but they never lasted long. Was it at all possible to restore her memories? He hoped not! Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. And the woman he'd scorned was someone he never wanted to see released.
"Y,know, I had you pegged as a narcissist from day one, but this... this goes beyond my expectations." a voice finally spoke. Turbo shook himself from his thoughts to register what it was Vanellope had said. Narcissist? She thought HE made the picture? What kind of cretin makes a macaroni picture of himself? "You think I made that ugly thing?"
"Well, it looks just like you!" she quipped, not even bothering to cover up the fact that she basically just called him ugly. Now that pissed him off. "First I'm narcissistic, then I'm ugly? Pick a color and stick with it, princess. We can't all be blessed with your design!" he barked. He tried not to notice the lovely color her cheeks took on, or the way she tucked her hair behind her ear awkwardly. She was obviously not used to such statements. And it really was just a statement. She was beautiful, and he was ugly. This wasn't news to him. It was a simple universal fact that he had to live with, and it only became more apparent the day he first laid eyes on her without the royal get up. Even in rags she was as lovely as ever, if not more so. He could strip her of her code, but he could never take away her beauty. It was the one thing he couldn't steal. He would always be stuck envying Vanellope Von Schweetz.
Vanellope shrugged off his comment as best she could without making herself too obvious. Why did he always have to make comments like that? He had this weird way of sneaking compliments into the conversation and making it sound like an insult. "So, if you didn't make this, then who did?"
"I was hoping you could tell me!" Turbo scoffed casually.
Vanellope blinked once, before narrowing her piercing hazel eyes at him. "What'chu talkin' 'bout, Turbutt?" she demanded. He tried not to wince at her blatant murder of the English language. Why did people feel the need to chop up words like that? It was painful to listen to. Nevertheless he continued. "I found that framed to the wall next to your room. I had been hoping you'd be able to clarify, but then I suppose that's asking a bit much of you isn't it?" Vanellope stared at him dis-trustingly, as if trying to decipher this statement. He inwardly chuckled. "Exactly how much do you remember, Glitch?"
"...w...what?" she stuttered.
"It's a simple question!" he drawled. "I wasn't there when you reset the game, so I don't know the details. So, my question is, aside from the fact that you were told you were a princess, what else do you know?"
For a moment Vanellope was flabbergasted. It wasn't like she hadn't approached the subject herself, but normally she was the one who had to ask someone else. No one had even bothered to bring up her memories. In fact, they all seemed rather adamant that the past was better off forgotten. How was she supposed to respond to Turbo's blatantly sudden, and not to mention intrusive, question, without admitting that she was completely ignorant?
"What's it matter to you?" she finally demanded brashly. He smirked at her aggression. If she remembered anything at all, she wouldn't have been so defensive. He had his answer, now he just wanted to hear it from the glitches mouth.
"Well, I'm simply curious! After all, Sugar Rush was plugged in a good month before I took over, so it's strange that you don't remember anything, even after resetting the game." He took quick note of her contemplative expression, before continuing. "I also find it a tad bit odd that none of you're so called friends have taken the time to fill you in!"
Vanellope frowned at this. "How do you know they haven't?" she challenged. He laughed at this. "My dear, if you knew anything about our history before this, you and I wouldn't be able to have a civil conversation like we're having now!" Vanellope blinked once, looked to the side, then back at him, trying to figure out if he was being serious.
"...This...is civil to you?" she asked incredulously.
"Compared to our last conversation, I should say so!"
"Hey, you've been asking for that for a long time!" she warned.
"YOU tackled ME!" he shot back.
"CAUSE YOU WERE BEING AN ASS!"
"I'M THE ASS? YOU'RE THE HELL CAT WHO KICKED ME IN THE PEANUTS!"
"WELL, IF YOU DIDN'T GO AROUND ACTING LIKE A PERVERT, CALLING ME CUTE ALL THE TIME!"
"HOW EXACTLY IS ME CALLING YOU CUTE A PROBLEM!?" he demanded.
"IT'S CONFUSING! I MEAN HOW WOULD YOU FEEL IF SOMEONE TRIED TO KILL YOU ONE MOMENT, THEN TURNED AROUND AND TOLD YOU YOU HAD PRETTY GOLD EYES THE NEXT!? ARE YOU TRYING TO MESS UP MY HEAD? YOU HATE ME, RIGHT? YOU TELL ME TO PICK A COLOR AND STICK TO IT, WELL, WHY DON'T YOU TAKE YOUR OWN ADVICE YOU HYPOCRITE, CAUSE I'M GETTING TIRED OF TRYING TO FIGURE YOU OUT! "
Both of them suddenly became silent, the only sound echoing throughout the dungeon being their heavy breathing. Turbo stared at the girl in surprise and, admittedly, concern, whilst Vanellope herself glared at him profusely, her face flushed from either frustration or embarrassment. She didn't know which. This moment of silence gave Turbo quite a bit of time to think. He wasn't surprised by her anger or her confusion. Of course she would be confused over his flirting. For one, he seemed to just compliment her at all the wrong times. He wasn't even forcing himself to flirt. At first, it was just to mess with her. Just a part of his plan to seduce her into doing as he said. But, after a while the compliments started coming out of nowhere. He would blurt them out without thinking, without even questioning himself as to whether he meant them or not. They were simple facts in his mind. She was cute! She was adorable! She was beautiful! Just facts that seemed to slip off his tongue whenever he really took the time to look at her. Insults were becoming lies that he tried to force feed himself every time he caught himself staring. Hell, he was probably more confused than she was! Finally he found the strength to speak.
"Look, Vanellope," Her glare dropped slightly at the use of her name instead of glitch or pixie. "I'm not trying to confuse you! I'm not trying to mess with your head! Take into consideration the fact that I'm quite literally insane and a lot of the time I'm going to say and do things that don't always make sense. I'm not saying I don't mean any of it, cause hell if I know whether I do or not. For now it's irrelevant. But, if we're going to break this bond between us, then we're going to have to learn to get along without biting each other's heads off. Whether I hate you or you hate me doesn't matter right now."
"So, you do hate me?" she confirmed, as if trying to find a bit of normalcy in this situation.
"IT DOESTN"T MATTER!" he bellowed, before sighing. "Look, try looking at this like a Chinese Finger Trap. The more we fight and pull away from each other, the tighter the trap gets. But, if we can somehow work together, then we can break free of this travesty people call fusion. So, I need to know if you're willing to at least try working with me for the time being! This is as much your problem as it is mine. So...do we have a deal?" he asked. Vanellope scrutinized him for a moment before asking her own question.
"Can I trust you?"
Turbo's code flashed red at this. She was asking him if he could be trusted? How was he supposed to answer that? She had already established that he was unworthy of her trust. Why go asking such a thing?
"I don't know." he finally stated flat out.
"That's not very reassuring!" Vanellope deadpanned. This caused him to frown at her grimly.
"Well, what do you want me to say, Vanellope? You want me to lie and tell you that I'm not a conniving prick who enjoys stabbing people in the back? Let's face facts, princess! You said it yourself! I ruined seventeen years of your life for my own personal gain. I took everything you had and made it mine. I made you what you are! I'm no angel! I'm a virus! If you think you can trust me then, by all means, go ahead! But don't expect me to feel sorry for you when it all turns sour! It's your choice!" With this all said, he sat and waited for the plethora of complaints that were sure to come. No doubt, a rant about how horrible he was and how no one could ever care for such an evil being such as him. This was what he expected. What he didn't expect was the very next thing that came out of Vanellope's mouth.
"Ok, then I trust you!"
He blinked. "What?"
"I said I trust you!"
Turbo rose an angry brow at the girl, conveying his confusion. "Did you not hear a thing I just said?"
"Oh, I heard you! But, as far as I can tell, you didn't lie. So I think that earns you at least a little trust, don'cha think?" she concluded, standing up and brushing off her skirt. He eyed her with great scrutiny. "One of these days I'm going to figure you out!" he warily stated.
"Likewise!" she smiled.
"I'll be sure to check whether it's possible for insanity to spread through fuse partners. Though, which of us would be in more danger, I'm not sure." Pausing for a moment, Turbo started tugging at his restraints. After a bit of struggling he finally gave up, opting to wait for Vanellope to get the hint that he wanted down. He didn't like asking for help. Silence passed between them as Turbo's patience began to dwindle. "Well?" he demanded expectantly. At this Vanellope blinked. "Well, what?"
Turbo visibly pouted. "Are you going to let me down, or not?"
"Can't you just glitch down?"
"Can I WHAT?" he blanched.
"You're a glitch aren't you? So, glitch down! It's not like those chains are glitch proof."
"I know they're not! I only made one pair of those and they're back in your cell. Provided that the reset didn't delete them, along with the entire cell."
"My cell?" Vanellope inquired.
"Of course! Did you think anyone else used that cell? With the words 'Bad Girl!' and 'Someone's been naughty!' written on the wall? I don't think so."
"Yyyyeaaaahhh, I had been meaning to ask about that! Were you going for creepy pervert, or do you just naturally come off as one?"
Turbo flushed at this question. This made Vanellope smirk as she mocked his earlier statement. "It's a simple question!"
"Coming from a simple person, I'm sure! Back to the subject at hand, what exactly makes you think I know how to glitch? As far as I can tell it just happens randomly."
Vanellope thought of this for a moment. "Well... It did, at first. I wasn't able to control it until..." Turbo eyed the girl, expecting her to continue. "Until what?" he pushed. Vanellope glanced up at him before blurting out, "Until you tried to kill me on the track!"
The pale racer couldn't help the dark look that took over his countenance. Why wouldn't fate just let him forget about that? It seemed to come back and slap him in the face at every interval. "So what? You're saying I need to be in a life threatening situation to glitch? Forget it! Just get me down."
Vanellope pouted in disappointment. "Oh, come on! At least try it."
"No!"
"Why not?"
Turbo glared at the girl. "Because as threatening as you are to my life-span, YOU, Princess, are not intimidating!"
Vanellope smirked. "Well, maybe I can find something that is. Now, let's see... what scares Turbutt? …Needles?"
Turbo sneered. "No!"
"Hmmm... hot cola?"
"Fuck you!"
"Pffft, not likely."
"Look, Pixie, it's a pointless venture, so just give up. You're never gonna find anything that scares me!"
"GRRRAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!"
"What was that?" Turbo squeaked in fear. Not a second later, a huge hand smashed through the wall next to the terrified racer. The musky smell of rubble and B.O. filled the dungeon, as the dust cleared to reveal the culprit. Standing there in a huge whole in the wall, huffing and snorting like a bull ready to trample its target, was none other than the infamous bad-guy known as Wreck-It-Ralph. Behind the furious wrecker stood Sour Bill, looking none too proud of himself.
For a moment everything was still. Vanellope and Turbo remained frozen in place as the wrecker's eyes scanned the room, as if trying to decide where to place his fist next. The pale racer shot a grudgingly pleading look to the princess, hoping she might have an idea as to how he might get out of the situation alive. Vanellope looked from Turbo to Ralph and then back again. Finally she whispered to him in a voice that was meant to be hushed. "Just...stay still!...maybe he won't notice you!." Turbo's face screwed in irritation. "HE'S NOT A GODDAMNED DINASOUR, VANELLOPE!" he shrieked, only to once again be silenced, as a large meaty fist swung in his direction. He braced himself for impact...but it never came. Opening his eyes he found that he was no longer chained up. He wasn't even in the cell anymore. But how?
SMASH
"TURBOOOOOO!" Ralph's voice bellowed through a newly created whole in the wall. Choosing this as the opportune moment to flee, Turbo grabbed the closest thing available and lobbed it at the wrecker's large head. "SOUR BILL! I CHOOSE YOU!" he shouted, as the green candy bounced painfully off of Ralph's skull. It wasn't nearly effective enough to physically injure the wrecker, but it made the perfect distraction for an escape. Whilst Ralph rubbed at the sticky green spot that was imprinted on his forehead, Turbo made a run for it. It didn't take long for Ralph's hulking form to come bounding around the corner, effectively smashing through a wall, before recuperating and taking chase once more. How many walls was the wrecker willing to smash through to get to him? At this point he was going to end up leveling the entire castle.
"Hold it, Virus scum!"
Turbo suddenly found himself looking down the barrel of a very lethal looking weapon. On the trigger end of the gun was a very tall, armor covered woman that Turbo might have thought attractive if she weren't threatening him. The woman blew a blonde bang out of her face before shooting orders at him. "You'd best put your hands behind your head if you know what's good for y-"
"GRAAAAHHHHH!"
Cursing to herself, the woman quickly jumped out of the way, rolling to safety before Ralph could barrel over her. It was only after she landed on her feet that she realized she'd lost sight of the target. The virus was nowhere to be seen.
"Blast it all, Wreck-It! You let him get away!" she bellowed, whacking Ralph over the head with the butt of her gun.
Turbo let out a string of curses as he rounded another corner. Great! Just great! First the Wrecker, now some gun toting amazon. What was next? An overly polite handyman? Turbo grunted in annoyance when he suddenly collided with another avatar, about the same height as him. Rubbing his helmet-less head, he looked up, only to gawk in disbelief. 'You gotta be shitting me!' he mentally screeched.
"Oh, I am so sorry, sir! I assure you, I didn't mean to-" Fix-It-Felix was cut short in his apology when he realized just who he ran into. He frowned deeply, eyeing Turbo with great disdain. Or as much disdain as a guy like Felix could muster. "Oh, it's you! Well, in that case, I am not sorry in the slightest!"
Turbo glared at the handyman. "That tears me up inside, truly it does, but as much as I'd like to beat the shit out of you, I've got somewhere to be, and it's not here. Toodles!" He was about to pass the other male up, but, apparently, Felix wasn't willing to cooperate. He stood in Turbo's way, blocking the only path that could lead him away from the wrecker.
"I can't let you do that!" Felix said with an assertiveness that could only be from Calhoun's influence.
Turbo tried to intimidate Felix by cracking his knuckles. "You know, I'm really starting to reconsider that beating you to a pulp idea!" At this Felix started to look nervous. Nevertheless, he stood his ground, never taking his eyes off of Turbo. The pale racer stared at him for a moment before nodding. "Have it your way." Felix flinched as Turbo pulled his fist back. It never made contact. When he opened his eyes he found that Calhoun had the virus pinned to the wall. "GET THE FUCK OFFA ME DAMMIT!" Turbo screeched. Calhoun smirked. "Have it your way!" she gruffly chuckled, letting him go, but keeping him within shooting range in case he pulled anything funny. She stepped back, making way for an even bigger threat.
"You wanna do the honors, Wreck-It?" she offered.
Ralph cracked his knuckles, similar to how Turbo had when threatening Felix. "My pleasure!" Ralph grinned darkly, as Turbo shrunk beneath his shadow. The virus gulped sharply, feeling his throat go dry. This was it. This was the end of the road. He'd been cornered like the rat he was and now he was going to die. As the wrecker pulled his fist back, getting ready to knock him into the next world, Turbo thought he saw his life flash before his eyes. Well something flashed, but it wasn't his life. Opening one eye, then the other, he found two stubby, widespread arms protecting him from the oncoming threat. Connected to these arms was none other than the sugar princess herself. She had glitched herself in front of Turbo just in the nick of time.
"Vanellope?" Ralph questioned, not lowering his meaty fist.
Vanellope swallowed hard, as all three of her makeshift family members stared at her in confusion. Under their scrutinizing gaze she stood her ground, not willing to back down even an inch. They needed to hear her out.
"You can't hurt him." she said plainly.
Ralph ignored her, trying to get around the girl, but each time he tried, she glitched in front of him without missing a beat. "Get outta the way, Vanellope." he ordered, as if reprimanding a child. At this Vanellope's resolved grew.
"No."
"He needs to pay for what he did to you!" The larger of the two reasoned.
"I can't let you do that."
"Vanellope, MOVE!"
"NO!"
"GET OUTTA THE WAY, KID!"
"I'M NOT A KID! AND WHEN I SAY NO, I MEAN IT!"
Ralph stared at the girl as if she had lost it. Calhoun and Felix exchanged glances before trying to calm the large man. "She's got a point, Ralph. I mean, it is her game."
"WHAT? HOW CAN YOU AGREE WITH-"
"Stand down, Wreck-It! Felix is right. Vanellope is the monarch of this game. She's in charge here, not us. Her game, her rules." Calhoun sighed in resignation.
Ralph sputtered at this. "Monarch? What...what happened to the democracy?"
At this, Turbo perked up. "Democracy?" He poked his head around Vanellope's arms to catch her attention. "What democracy?" he demanded. "Not now!" The princess, if she even was one, hissed. Ignoring his grumbling, she turned back to her friends. "Look, I can explain. Just give me a minute with Turbo and I'll-"
"WHAT? NUH-UH, NO WAY AM I LEAVING YOU WITH THIS MANIAC!" Ralph shouted loud enough to leave a ringing in the princess's ears. Ignoring this, she called for her right hand candy. "Sour Bill!" On cue, the green confection came scurrying around the corner, surprised to see that Turbo was still alive.
"Yes, milady?" he bowed. Turbo snorted at the gesture. Vanellope glared at him before addressing Bill. "I need you to escort everyone to the dining hall for a conference. We've got a lot to talk about. Oh, and grab Turbo's helmet out of the dungeon." Sour Bill nodded in understanding before ushering everyone out of the hallway with some difficulty. As he left, Ralph shot Turbo a foreboding glare. Turbo returned it, only adding his own touch by sticking his tongue out. He could still hear the wrecker's growls around the corner. Smirking, the virus turned back to Vanellope, just in time to see her knees wobble under her. "Woah, hold it, Pixie!" he shouted, catching her under the arms before she could hit the ground. Letting her lean back on him, he only now realized just how pale she was. They could have been twins.
"Why?" she asked, almost dazed.
"Why what?"
"Why me?"
Turbo chuckled at the princess's whining tone. "Y'know, I ask myself that constantly, but I never get an answer." She didn't laugh. She just hit his arm weakly. "Pfft, grumpy much?" he teased. She glared at him. "It's your fault. It's contagious."
"Yeah yeah." Lifting her back up on her feet, he suddenly remembered something. "Since when the hell is this a democracy?"
Vanellope shrugged. "Since I decided I didn't like the title princess! It's too girly. President is better." Turbo scrunched his face at that. He couldn't imagine calling her president. "I wouldn't vote for you!"
Vanellope glared. "Well no problem, cause nobody voted. I just decided to be a president instead of a princess. Simple as that."
"WHAT?" Turbo squawked. "You can't just decide that!"
"Yes I can!" she stated simply.
"Why's that?"
"Cause I'm the princess!" was all she said before turning and walking off, her wrapper skirt sashaying meticulously with every step. Turbo stared after the girl, his mind not working fast enough to come up with a retort. How was it that this girl seemed to be far more insane than him? It shouldn't be possible, but it was. The strangely ironic fact was that it drove him crazy in the worst of ways. Vanellope's poisonously sweet voice broke through his thoughts. "You coming, or what?" His face flushed at the accusation, before quickly realizing what she was actually asking. "Yeah, I'm coming." He wished in that moment, that his skin wasn't so horribly pale. Vanellope could surely see the red spreading across his face.
"What's with the look?" You embarrassed over being saved by a girl?" she purred, much to his aggravation. "Hardly!" he scoffed. "I suppose this just makes us even. I saved you! You saved me! We're all squared away."
"Not exactly." Vanellope smirked impishly. This worried him.
"Why not?"
"I haven't tried to kill you yet!" The princess gave him an eerie smile, to which he could only gawk in disbelief. "Are you ever going to let that go?"
"Probably not."
"Perfect." he sulked. Vanellope simply smiled and punched him on the shoulder affectionately. Or what she thought was affectionate. It had actually hurt quite a bit. He could feel a bruise beginning to form. "Besides," she chirped, gaining his attention once more. "It's not as if I would have let him hit you. Like it or not, your face is my face, and I don't like being punched." Turbo scoffed at this. "You've never been punched once in your life." Vanellope rose a brow, as if to challenge this statement. Turbo blinked in disbelief. "Who?"
"Taffyta." she said plainly.
"WHAT? WHEN?" the pale racer demanded. He knew Taffyta had a mean left hook, but he couldn't even imagine her aiming it at her best friend. Then again, they hadn't always been best friends.
"About three years ago. We got into a bit of a scuffle after a disagreement over her driving skills. She was all butt hurt that she kept losing to you." Turbo couldn't help but let his ego swell at that.
"And you're still friends with her after that?" he questioned incredulously. Vanellope just smiled with a shrug.
"Well, I'm friends with YOU, aren't I?"
Turbo froze at this.
… Friend?
SHE considered HIM a friend?
That... was impossible! Just this morning she was spouting venomous hate and loathing for him, and now she considered him a friend? What could possibly convince her to...?
Turbo frowned.
The code. It was all just code. The fusion of their codes was having effects on BOTH of them. It didn't just force him to care. It made her trust him. He'd be a fool to believe she'd befriend him under different circumstances. None of this would last. As soon as he found a way to defuse them, that trust, that friendship... would be gone. Forever. Turbo smirked bitterly at this thought. You can't lose what you never had. Looking at Vanellope now, the way she smiled at him, so easily, he found that he hated code fusing more than ever. It did nothing but fill you with fake feelings that amounted to nothing in the end. None of it was real. Just an allusion. And he'd be damned if he let himself fall for it.
