Since I just got a new review...
Everyone, here's Chapter Eight! And this one contains quite a few Pixar references, random pop-culture in-jokes, and a few shout-outs to some fanfic trends common to MI. In other words, Enjoy!
Chapter Eight: The Whistle Blows in 5 Minutes
"You know you got us into this mess Sulley! We will fix this mess, and we won't stop 'til she's out of our hair!"
At that very moment as the pair were running, Randall came running towards the Energy Floor. He was now clothed in a dotted suit jacket, zebra slacks, checkered dress shirt, geometric tie and socks, and his signature snakeskin loafers. The camera then slows down as the purple-haired man slipped on the clean tiled floor, thrusting him forward towards James, getting faceplanted on the larger man's chest fur. The accident caused Randall to turn blue with purple polka dots; however, the camera returned to its default speed.
"What are you two doing?!" Randall shouted, reverting back to his normal color scheme and thinking, Eww! Will someone get this big, walking carpet outta my way?!
"Um, we were just rehearsing for a musical!" James answered, "It was Mike's idea."
" She's out of out haaaaaaaair !" Michael sung, sounding off-key.
"Can it, Wazowski!" Randall growled, "This may or may not involve you."
"What is it now, Randall?" James asked.
"Word on the street is that there's a child on the loose, and that she's been traced back to the factory," Randall began, his newspaper tucked under his left arm as he took a bite out of a gourmet candy bar, "Would you happen to know about this at all?"
James spotted the girl running in the distance. "Nope, not at all," he answered, "If you'll excuse me—"
"Why in such a hurry, Sullivan?" Randall purred, "Is there something you're not telling me?"
"My niece!" James blurted out, "I have to take her to daycare."
"Very smooth, Sullivan," Randall chuckled sarcastically, "Very smooth."
"You know," began Michael, "I don't know who has the child, but if I were you, I'd put all my money on Waxford."
A Portal Summoner with a light green jumpsuit was leaving a folder at the dispatch office, but turned his attention when he heard his name called out.
"Hey, Waxford!" Randall's green eyes glowed creepily as he charged towards Waxford with a whip and chains. Meanwhile, James and Michael had decided to split up; James went straight down the east hall, while Michael headed for the north hall. As he ran, a cyclopic squid woman with Gorgon hair and cones of shame came speeding down the hall.
"Michael!" the monstrous woman yelled, who then morphed into Celia, "Michael Wazowski, last night was the worst birthday of all the birthdays in the history of like, ever!"
"Celia, I'm so sorry," Michael was shaken, "You see, Sulley and I are in a bit of a situation—"
"Tell me what's going on!" Celia demanded, her hair morphing back into hissing snakes.
"Is this about the sushi?" Michael asked, feeling somewhat stupid.
"SUSHI?! You think this is about SUSHI?!" Celia's anger kindled even more, until Michael swooped her down for a passionate kiss. Unfortunately, she resisted and punched him to the floor.
"No, no! I don't want any of that!" Celia cried, still angered, "From this day forth, we are through, Michael!"
Celia turned back as Michael ran away, trying to hold back his tears. However, Randall had witnessed the whole scene. Casually, he slinked up towards the woman; her face burning in a mix of rage, sorrow, and confusion.
"So sorry that Wazowski messed up your birthday," Randall's honeyed words seem to distract Celia from her fury, "Maybe he's just not the one for you, sweetie."
"I never wanna see that one-eyed cretin again," Celia sobbed.
"Don't cry, you're such a sweet girl, you know that," Randall reached for an abstract-print purple silk handkerchief folded in his jacket pocket, and took it out to clean Celia's tears.
"For someone who's very mysterious and slithery, you seem quite caring," Celia started to calm down, "And you know what? I like mysterious."
Randall grinned. As her heard Celia giggle softly, he started to picture her with her silky purple hair gathered into a pair of bouncy pigtails with flower barrettes, and the background in his vision was pink/peach silk with roses and sparkles.
"Celia," Randall started off, "Do you like to style your hair?"
"Sure," Celia answered, "Is there a style in particular that you think may look good on me?"
"Pigtails," Randall responded, blushing, "I've always liked them. And they go perfect with such a sweet and playful character as yours. Also, can you defend yourself with a baseball bat?"
"Um," Celia was puzzled for a moment, "I'm not sure, but I can learn if you want me to."
"I'm sorry, I just needed a random question to further break the ice," Randall blurted, his face and hair reddening.
"It's okay," Celia reassured him, stroking his cowlicks, "It was really nice sharing this time with you, Cutie."
Celia gave Randall a kiss on his cheek, which made hearts appear on his face, his cowlicks stand up straight, and his ponytail wave by itself. She then walked away through the south hall. Meanwhile, Randall examined the newspaper again, specifically on the front page where a giant headline read "KID SIGHTING AT SUSHI BAR", with the image of the toddler girl at the foreground of the picture. However, as he scanned the image, he caught sight of a familiar green-haired figure running in the background. He recognized it instantly, and the background became engulfed in burning flames and his eyes glowed white. The camera then focuses in letterbox-style only on his eyes, which have returned to their glistening emerald glory; the name "Wazowski!" appears in brush stroke lettering as he utters it in rage.
Michael was running, running through the innermost halls of the plant, where all the offices were located. He would not stop for anything. As he ran, he could only cry; cry his heart out since Cecelia Mae Stone, the woman who caught his eye from the very day she started working as a receptionist, the woman who meant the world to him, had just broken up with him.
And of all things, over the fact that he could not rescue her from the panic last night at the restaurant. Unfortunately, Michael could not ever speak a word to her of what was really going on, and how he was involved in the scandal. As hard as he tried to forget the whole thing, he could not help but still picture Celia's face when she smiled, clothed in a hat and spring dress as she opens a picnic basket; the sky blue, the grass green, and a gentle breeze of blossoms surrounding her.
Nonetheless, Michael burst through several doors in the halls, almost out of breath, but that did not stop him. That is, until he turned another corner, where he finally decided to take a break. He stopped, resting a hand on the wall where a gold-framed portrait of Mr. Waternoose hung.
I'm all alone now, Michael thought to himself, No one can see my sadness, and—
The eyes of the portrait blinked, turning a gleaming green. A familiar shape appeared, and its colors changed from that of the background to purples and skin tones. Randall had managed to catch up with Michael!
Randall charged at Michael, pinning him to the wall with his body; the purple one's hands clenching the green one's shoulders, and one knee on his right thigh.
"Where is she?!" Randall shouted, breathing down Michael's face.
"What are you talking about?" Michael asked, terrified and choking under the hot and humid breath.
"Where is Mariko Tachibana?!" Randall growled, slapping Michael on the face.
Randall keeps repeating that name, Michael pondered to himself under the crushing pressure discomfort, and bleeding nose, That must be the name of the girl!
"She's here on the premises, isn't she?!" Randall dropped Michael, letting him slump to the floor.
"I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about," Michael finally answered, pretending he did not know anything about the situation.
"I think I know how I can make this all go away," Randall started off, this time more slightly soft-spoken and pointing to a clock, "What happens when the whistle blows in five minutes?"
"Um, I get a time out?" Michael asked, nervously.
"WRONG!" Randall shouted, then calmed himself down, "Everyone goes to lunch. And when that happens, the Energy Floor will be..."
"Painted?" Michael interrupted.
"EMPTY!" Randall grew furious at Michael's "dumb" act, "The floor will be empty."
Randall clenched his hands tightly around Michael's forearms; his nails almost digging into his skin.
"That means that when the little hand is up, and the big hand is down, the portal will be in my station," Randall explained, forcibly rotating Michael's arms as if they were clock hands, "But when the little hand is pointing down, the portal will be gone. You have until then to return my little sweetie back home to her flowery boudoir in Osaka. Got it, Wazowski?!"
Michael only nodded his head in agreement to Randall's deal, at the same time thinking, Randall sure is strong and forceful, and...Sweetie? Really? At least "Boo-chan" is more unique.
Randall threw Michael to the floor. "You better have Tachibana with you on the Energy Floor!" he shouted as he walked away. Michael stood up, and also went on his way, wondering if James had found the girl.
James wandered through the halls, when he found the girl tagging along with a group of toddlers and a daycare teacher. However, after a few seconds, she wandered off, climbing into a trash can, which was taken away by the Energy Floor F janitors.
"My mom said the comic collecting is unhealthy," began the chubby green-suited janitor, "But I need my hands on that super rare collector's edition of Vampire Man #13."
"That reminds me!" the clown-nosed janitor in the yellow suit interrupted, "I've got an action figure collection I'm working on."
The girl quickly climbed out of the trash can as the janitors dumped the load into a small chute. However, one of the bobbing eyes of her headband became detached and lost in the garbage.
James came running down the hall when he saw the fake eyeball in the garbage pile, which was loaded onto a conveyor belt that he could only see through a window.
"NO!" James cried out as he watched the garbage load travel through the machine, pressed by a steam roller, shot by flamethrowers and rapid-fire lasers and bullets, missiles being launched at it, and finally cut by a slicing machine. The whole time, James was in shock, trying not to look but staring anyway as he pressed his big, strong palms to his face.
"And it's 100% machine washable, Darling," a short and stout, black-haired woman standing next to James remarked.
James burst into tears, running to the other end of the machine where all the garbage cubes were being deposited. Background music played in the room, the lyrics sounding something along the lines of " Dressed like a dream your spirit seems to turn about! That Sunday shine is a certain sign, that you feel as fine as you look! " However, the happy song could not even cheer up the polka-dot haired man as he carried a garbage cube with a bobbing eyeball sticking out of it, tears streaming down his face.
Michael was whistling as he walked down the halls where the daycare teacher was lecturing the children on the importance of energy harvesting, when James arrived, still sobbing over the garbage cube.
"Sulley!" exclaimed Michael, "Where's the girl?"
James could not speak, still traumatized as he held up the cube towards Michael.
"What are you saying?" Michael was trying to make sense of this, until he heard a voice babbling, "Nyan, nyan! Neko-chan desu-nya!"
"I can still hear her calling for me," James whimpered.
"Sulley, look behind you," Michael pointed, to which James turned around and caught sight of the little girl, who was waddling happily towards the pair. James was overjoyed at seeing that the girl was safe and sound. He grabbed some glue and re-attached the bobbing eyeball to her headband. The girl then wandered towards the group of little children, listening to the teacher.
"Oh, there you are!" the teacher exhaled a sigh of relief, "I was beginning to wonder where you went, since I was just about to tell a joke."
The girl did not understand much of what the teacher was saying, so she just clapped and smiled.
"Ok then," began the teacher, "What did the brainy fish say to the cool fish? 'Sorry, can't hang out today; I'm in school!'."
The little kids chuckled, but the girl started to laugh loud and hard, rolling all over the carpeted floor. The ceiling lights started to brighten and glow intensely, and the power surge could also be heard audibly. The energy being supplied to the lights continued to grow, until they eventually exploded with the force of an electromagnet shot down by a futuristic plasma cannon and sent crashing down on an abandoned fleet of import/export freight ships toppling like dominoes and bursting in flames. The little children started crying out of fear, but the teacher gave them a group hug, trying to comfort them in the wake of the fuse blow.
"Come here, Boo-chan!" James called out. The girl toddled her way towards him, and he scooped her up in his big, strong arms.
"Good news!" Michael exclaimed as they ran down the main hall, "I was able to get Mariko's portal."
James' face lit up. "How, and—wait, her name really is Mariko? How do you know this?" he was astonished.
"Made a deal with Randall," Michael explained, "He indeed is her Energy Harvester. He told me he would have the portal at lunch, so we have to get her there ASAP! I can't believe it! All our problems have been solved!"
"That's great—" James was relieved, until something Michael said made a dark shade come upon his eyes, a halo of sweat drops float around his head, and the background turned a black/crimson gradient.
"What is it, Sulley?" Michael asked, worried.
"Did you just say that you made a deal with Randall to get her portal?" James grew anxious, and his stomach turned.
"Of course," Michael answered, just as they reached Energy Floor F, "And look! There it is!"
The Energy Floor was empty, save for the single white door with pink and lavender flowers painted on it. Michael cartwheeled and jumped for joy, even playing an "air guitar" on top of his desk.
"Mike, I don't think we can trust him," James started, "I heard him talking about a machine, and it got me a little worried."
"Machine? Who cares?" Michael answered, "He said nothing about a machine to me. He just wanted to help me send Mariko back to Earth. Isn't that great?"
"I don't buy it at all." James retorted, holding Mariko close.
Michael opened the door in frustration, smiled, and went inside.
"See, Mariko," began Michael, "It's your room! Ah, home sweet home for you. Just come with me, and everything will be swell! And look, there's a pile of candy sitting right on your bed! Consider it a welcome home gift from Mr. Boggs!"
Michael started dancing on the pink bed inside the room, singing "Hello, my baby, Hello, my darling!", completely unaware of the long shepherd's crook about to yank him off the bed in a comedic fashion. The door slammed shut. James hid under the desk, still holding Mariko close to his body as the door flung open again, and out emerged Randall, with a large cart of yellow canisters. He wandered off with the cart, until he heard a noise that startled him. Instinctively, Randall camouflaged himself, but then slightly re-appeared under the desk James was hiding beneath as well. He smelled the area around, his emerald eyes gleaming under the low light. He then unblended fully, and continued rolling the cart down the hallway. James took Mariko in his arms, and quietly followed after Randall.
Well, that's that. Hope you enjoyed this installment of Energy Harvesters, and next time, we'll find out what happened to Michael!
Next chapter: Disney and Star Wars references abound!
