Dawn of the Personality Challenged Power Rangers
By Holly-Batali and EvilDarkPurpleGirl
Disclaimer: I do not own Power Rangers, SPD, musical theatre, sitcoms, Mexico, Goths (in all forms and terms), germ phobia, Lysol (and other various cleaning products), or Puff the Magic Dragon. However, I do own Puffers the not-so-magical-as-much-as-polyester-fiber dragon. I DO NOT OWN THE LYRICS TO BRIDGE'S SONG!! MOOSEBUTTER DOES. SEE FOR DETAILS. NOT MINE!
Chapter Ten: Psychology
They may have taken my utility belt. They may have replaced my uniform with the standard navy blue jail uniform and combat boots. They may have deprived me of toast. They deprived me of Puffers, the only one who truly understood me. But I still had my sanity, oh yes... I was still brilliant, and they could never make me like them. I threw back my head and laughed maniaclly, just for good measure. I also still had an extra toothbrush, which I had sneakily snitched from the supply bin on my way in. I knelt down, my nose touching the laminate floor of my cell, and scrubbed carefully at the floor.
"The germs will die. . . and I will rule over all of the Clean People," I muttered slowly and quietly to myself. Then I saw a patch of dirt on the floor in front of the door. "SPOT!" I screamed, my eyes going crazy. "DIE SPOT, DIE!" I scrambled over on my hands and knees and bent down, scubbing feverishly.
I may seem insane, but I was brilliant. Oh, yes... I was plotting...yes, plotting. I would have justice. "IIIIIII looovveee myyyyy tiiiiiilllllle," I sang, cunningly covering up my genius with this brilliant disguise of a madman. I had an idea; a brilliant, cunning idea that only I, I with my impecable genius could concoct:
I would sing.
Sing like a gecko... or a cupcake... Sing--about TILE!
I love my tile!!
Use a toothbrush, scrub it clean,
Make it shiny so that it reflects your smile.
And when I'm through,
Go outside and scrub the hallway
Where somebody scuffed it with their tennis shoe!
I sang and sang and sang. Hopefully, they would take me to talk to Dr. Felix, so I could gain more secrets, hear more private conversations between the commander and the doctors. They were hiding something, oh, yes...hiding. Hiding like a coconut...
Pizza.
Comes from an Italian spot cooked in ovens blazing hot with tile in their belly
And your mothers brand new kitchen floor has high-tech fancy tile galore so messy spills won't rot and get smelly.
If we had no tile, we'd have no (insert things with tile, spoken)
If we had no tile, we'd have no fast food restraunts to make us food...
It worked.
Yes, of course...it was my genius that concocted it, my brilliant mind... of course it worked. I cackled evilly, just the 'Brilliant Maniacal Future-World-Dictator' effect. Yes, the more I decieved them, the better. Oh, yes...
They had come in and strapped me ino my 'strait-waistcoat', as they say in Dracula, and dragged me off to Dr. Felix. He was no Dr. Seward, oh, no... he wasn't smart enough, not brilliant enough. Though, of course, neither was Dr. Seward, really, so that kind of ruins the effect... Oh well.
They sat me down in the chair opposite the good doctor, taking off my straitjacket. I placed my calmly clasped hands in my lap, my face neutral and professional.
Dr. Felix waited until his assistants had left, then sighed sadly and asked, "how are you, Cadet?"
"Splendid, Doctor; just splendid. I hope you I find you in good health?"
He seemed surprised at my straight face; cool, formal, contolled manner; my impressive language... heh...heh...heh...
"Just fine, Cadet, just fine."
I paused a moment, then courteously inclined my head in his direction. "I hope you'll forgive me, but I haven't much small talk today. I'm afraid I haven't the satisfaction and contentment of knowing the weather this undoubtedly fine day, and I know of no 'goings-on', as they say."
"Of course, of course." he said, still stunned. "Of course."
He seemed to shake himself, regain his professional manner, so to speak. "How are you feeling Cadet? I hope you're not uncomfortable?"
"Not at all, good doctor, not at all. My room is quite to my liking, thank you."
"And your health? Any headaches? Nausea? Hunger pains?"
"No no, not at all." and before I could stop myself, I added, "though some toast would be nice." Toast it! Toast it to the mudcourse and back again! I laughed, "a joke, doctor."
"Ah, I see." He fidgeted, clearly uncomfortable. "I see from the report my assistant gave me that you just had sudden...outburst."
"Ah, yes," I said intellegently. "Yes, we all have our ways of expression, now don't we good doctor? It was nothing, I assure you. I'm quite well."
"Well, we're going to er--observe your, um, behavior, for a short time. I hope this meets your approval?"
"Ah, yes, of course. For, as the Chinese say, 'you cannot help shoots grow by pulling them up', am I not correct doctor?" He nodded dazedly. "Yes, for life is fleeting, and we must gain knowledge, not only for ourselves, but for the sake of our practice and our passion."
"Yes, very good," he said, "well, I'll go on ahead and send you back to your cel-room," he caught himself conspicuously, "your room, yes."
"Thank you, good doctor. It was nice to speak with you. I hope to see you again soon. Good day, doctor." I bowed and walked myself out. I smirked as I heard him let out a whoosh of air, stunned. They were decieved, good...well, for now, I had to observe. To once more quote the Chinese, 'if you do not climb the mountain, you will not see the plain.' How do I know all this weird stuff anyway? It's all of bunch of waffle. Mmmm...blueberry Belgian waffles...ooooohhh. Yum. I inwardly groaned at the thought of no toast while I was here. How the toast was I going to survive?! What was I going to eat, my toothbrush!? Sheesh!
Authors Note: Review, please. Big thanks, by the way, to Terrific Tina, PinkRangerV, Blue November, Ghostwriter, SierraTangoCharlie and Bouken Spirit for the fabulous reviews! BUTTERY TOAST FOR EVERYONE!