Charley walked downstairs from her room into the garage, rubbing her eyes. It was Sunday, so the Last Chance was closed for the day. That was a good thing for her, as there was still so much work she had: floors to clean, bills that needed to be paid, papers to organize, back orders to finish up, and other odds and ends to complete. And that was for just her business-who knows what repairs her Martian friends' bikes needed. There was also the matter of whatever last minute emergency would require her immediate attention, which, if involved her friends, would take up an entire day. Truly, there was never such a thing as a day off, especially for someone running one's own business.
Whatever happened to those lazy Sunday mornings of just sipping coffee and collecting your thoughts? Charley paused for a moment. Speaking of mornings, where are the guys? It's not like them to be late, especially at the thought of free food.
Just then, the faint roar of motorcycle engines caught Charley's ear. She smiled to herself. The Bros were right on cue. Though something was off: she didn't hear the usual heavy metal or hard rock music they loved to belt out on their radios, or their own off key singing of their favorite Earth band. In fact, the music they were listening to didn't sound anything like what they usually did. The singer sounded…feminine. And while there were women who had their own rock bands, Charley knew the Bros were more into Metallica, Guns 'n Roses and Aerosmith. Not someone like...was that No Doubt they were listening to? And were they playing "Just a Girl"? Now she was convinced it wasn't the Bros coming up to her garage.
But who else can have bikes with engines with those distinct sounds?
Charley couldn't decide if they were listening to the band on a dare or if there was something else involved. Even if they were being tortured, or their lives were hanging in the balance, they would never even entertain the thought of listening to music that was not heavy metal or rock related. And while No Doubt was a rock band, it wasn't the style of rock they liked. But she doubted they were kidnapped-there would be no music at all and the bikes would have come to her at a much faster pace.
The engine roars got louder, as did the music. Charley stepped to the side to allow the bikes an uninterrupted entrance. The three Martian motorcycles pulled in to the entrance and they, and the music, automatically came to a halt. Charley took notice that the three Martian riders had an extra guest with them. Charley couldn't make out who it was, but noticed there were a pair of thin arms wrapped around Modo's waist…or at least they were attempting to. She noticed those arms were covered with gray sleeves, a gray darker than Modo's fur, and a set of feminine legs clad in jeans behind Modo's, but couldn't make out any more details.
"Finally!" Vinnie exclaimed. "Sweet sweet silence! Seriously, who the hell dubbed that crap 'music'?"
"You take that back! No Doubt is genius!" a feminine voice exclaimed.
"If that crap counts as music, then I weep for the fate of this generation."
"Relax, Vinnie," Throttle smirked. "It wasn't Mado-"
"Do NOT mention her name in front of me!" Vinnie exclaimed and pointed at Throttle. "What she sings is NOT music!"
"Vinnie, calm down," Modo teased. "No Doubt was on the radio and Danny-girl's a fan of the band and the song. Besides, it had a good beat and it wasn't one of those boybands that're still polluting the air waves. I think there's some hope for this generation."
"Guys?" Charley wrapped her arms across her chest, an eyebrow raised. "Something you care to tell me?"
"Yeah." Vinnie pulled off his helmet and looked straight at Charley. "I'd like my eggs scrambled with a side of bacon, Sweetheart."
Charley rolled her eyes. She could tell by Vinnie's smirk he was trying make light of what was going on and not making an actual request. But she wasn't in the mood to put up with his chauvinism right then, even if it was merely playful banter on Vinnie's part. They had a bigger issue to deal with than food.
"Yeah, sure. Bacon and eggs. I'll get right on that," Charley said sarcastically. "How about you first tell me about your new lady friend?"
"Oh…yeah, we were just about to get to that, Charley-girl." Throttle looked back at Modo expectantly. "Big Guy?"
"I was just about to, Bro." Modo looked back at Charley. "Charley-ma'am, this here is Danielle Aguirrez. Danny-girl, this is our best friend Charlene Davidson, or 'Charley' as she likes to be called. She's the one who helped us get accustomed to life on Earth. And-let's all face it-the reason we're still alive."
Charley saw Danny reach up and pull the spare white motorcycle helmet off her head. Charley recognized that helmet-that was the one the guys sometimes kept on them when Charley would ride with one of them and she didn't have hers available. When Danny pulled the helmet off, a long wave of black hair spilled out from the helmet to her waist. It was clear this girl did not put stock in her appearance; her hair was choppy, uneven, and completely disheveled. It also looked like she hadn't washed it, or those locks needed more than one cleaning. Her hair was in dire need of a wash, and a trim. Or better yet, to just hack off most of it and put those mats, tangles and split ends out of their misery. Her shirt and sweatshirt were at least two sizes too big for her, like she just chose those clothing articles at random and slipped them on in the dark. Her jeans had a large hole in the left knee, and the right thigh had a large black stain. Her clothes didn't need to be washed; they needed to be burned to prevent the spread of potential diseases.
But what struck out to Charley the most were Danny's eyes. They were a dark brown color, but it wasn't just the color that got her attention. While on the surface she looked cool and collected, the young girl's eyes had several emotions swirling in her all at once fighting for dominance. Obviously this kid has been through hell. If she could sense it, Charley was sure the Bros felt it and much more strongly than she did.
"So you're the famous Danny I've heard Modo talk about." Charley smiled softly at the teenage girl. "Trust me-good things."
"Wow, didn't know I was already so famous. A pleasure really." Danny smiled wryly. She glanced around the garage. "Nice headquarters. Hiding in plain sight from civilians and villains…well whatever works." She paused then looked back at Charley. "So where is it?"
"…where is what?"
"Duh. The spaceship! If you've been with these guys for three years I know you got one in the works somewhere around here!"
"Guys? What did you tell her?" Charley looked at the three mice, her arms still crossed.
"Nothing about a space ship, Charley-girl," Throttle answered. "I swear it."
"Don't take it seriously Sweetheart." Vinnie smiled waving it off casually. "This kid has been reading way too many comics and has watched one too many episodes of Star Trek and Star Wars. They're all permanently etched into her brain and bloodstream."
"…Star Wars is a film trilogy genius," Danny frowned at Vinnie.
"Danny." Modo gave a gentle tug on Danny's hair. "You promised best behavior. And we told you before: we don't have a spaceship. It was destroyed in our crash and it's beyond repair."
"One-I am on best behavior. Didn't say a single curse word or insult anyone." Danny paused. "Two-you told me your friend is a mechanical genius and inventor. Like Tony Stark with watered down sass. If she's as smart as you say she is, then she must have a spaceship in the works!"
At that moment, Charley pressed a hand to her forehead and shook her head. She had to hang her head low so no one could see her smile. While there was a part of her that felt exhausted from Danny's insistence about the space, she was also flattered for the comparison to Tony Stark. While she wasn't an avid reader of comics, she knew enough to know who was who in the Marvel and DC universes, and was flattered to be considered on par with one of the most well-known superheroes of the comic universe. It was also flattering that she was considered smart and resourceful enough to build a space ship and be able to hide it without any one-private citizen or government official-seeing it.
Charley also thought it was also hilarious to see the guys trying-and failing-to convince their new friend that they were indeed Earth bound and there was no conspiracy going on in her garage. They were clearly not used to dealing with someone who was an avid comic and science fiction geek. Charley had personal experience with those who were science fiction fans, and while most could tell the difference between fact and fiction, it did not stop them from taking themes from comics and movies and applying them to the real world. She was also familiar enough with the science fiction genre to recognize a rule of heroic teams: if one of the members was an inventor, there was a chance the inventor either had a spaceship available, or was working on one. Unfortunately, the Biker Mice did not know this rule due to their knowledge of Earth culture being limited outside of music and sports. Even Vinnie, even though he tried to deny it, had limited knowledge of science fiction despite being a closet fan of Star Trek and Doctor Who. But the three mice were not comic book enthusiasts so they did not know how to talk to someone who was so passionate about this genre.
"Danny-girl, think about this: if Charley-girl did have a spaceship, don't you think you'd have seen it already?" Throttle asked Danny. "It would take up the whole garage space, or the back lot behind it. Not something you can keep hidden from the public eye."
"Good point." Danny paused. "But here's a good counter argument: if the city has not noticed three alien mice riding motorcycles living with them for three years, or that one of their leading industrialists is an alien fish, then don't you think it's possible the public wouldn't notice a space ship here? I mean your tails alone should have given you all away a long time ago!"
Throttle paused, and then looked back and forth between Vinnie and Modo. All three had perplexed looks on their faces, not knowing how to counter Danny's counter argument. Not like they could. Still, to see Throttle looking stumped was what caught Charley by surprise the most. He was usually the one who could come up with a witty comeback first, or the first to rebound from anything. Yes, it was safe to say this was out of their area of expertise. And Danny was clearly enjoying this.
"Hah! I stumped you! I win!"
"Okay, time out." Charley stepped in between the three mice and Danny. As entertaining as their little debate was, there were still questions that needed to be answered. "Guys, can we talk in private? Please?"
The mice followed Charley to the kitchen space of the garage. Danny was about to follow the four until Vinnie stopped and pressed his hand to her forehead to halt the teenager's movements.
"Who says you can come with?"
"She said guys, which is all inclusive."
"Yeah, by 'guys' she means the males." Vinnie paused. "And who gave you permission to be a smartass?"
"The same ones who gave you permission to be a dumba-OW."
Modo tugged on Danny's ponytail before she could finish her sentence. She reached behind her to feel where Modo tugged, her hands pressed to the back of her head. She then looked up at Modo.
"Sorry. Old habits die hard."
"Well try harder." Modo placed his flesh hand on Danny's shoulder. "Trust me on this Danny-girl: it's better you don't hear what we talk about. Pretty intense stuff."
"Just stay put until we get back," Throttle said. "And don't touch-or take-anything while we're gone."
"Hey! Show me a little trust!" Danny threw up her arms in frustration. "I don't steal from Mom 'n Pop shops!" Danny paused. "And why am I the only one who gets a lecture on swearing? Vinnie used a curse word too!"
"That's a good point." Modo gave a hard tug on Vinnie's right ear.
"Ow!" Vinnie reached up and massaged his ear. "What the hell Bro!"
"There. No favoritism shown to anyone who breaks a rule. That better, Danny-girl?" Modo asked.
"….it's a start."
"Bros, c'mon," Throttle urged, pushing them inside the living area.
Once they were inside the kitchen area, Charley waited for the three mice to take their respective seats on the small table she had in her kitchen area. It was a good thing she had them come inside out of the garage area because she wasn't sure what to say when they pulled up with the teenage girl, or what could be said in the teen's presence anyway. Doubtful it would matter to her with her casual use of swears, but Charley was taught better than that, and she didn't want to make her friends feel terrible for their actions. Charley knew was hardwired in the mice's systems to be heroes and save anyone and everyone they came across. Especially Modo, with his affection for children and how quickly they warmed up to him.
"Charley-ma'am, I know what we talked about yesterday," Modo began. "But things changed last night and-"
"Modo, it's okay." Charley held up her hands in a defensive gesture. "I'm not angry. To be honest, I'm more surprised at myself for not seeing this coming."
"Trust me, Charley-girl: the same goes for me," Throttle snickered. "And we all grew up together."
"So before I say anything else, what happened?" Charley asked.
Modo told Charley, Throttle and Vinnie, in more detail, everything that had happened before coming to the Last Chance that morning. All three listened as Modo retold the story of Danny having to be rescued-again-from the clutches of Greasepit and his thug army, of being abandoned by her drug involved family, and now being on Limburger's hit list for reasons even the mice were still working out. Even Charley couldn't figure out Limburger's reasons for getting involved in the drug cartel. Not only was it not his style, but she doubted Plutark was in need of narcotics. Charley was sure there were aliens who had addictions just like humans, but she doubted Plutark would consider cocaine or other narcotics on their priority resource list.
Charley was also trying to keep herself under control from what Modo had told her. These were stories she was unfortunately familiar with due to the mice's visits to the local orphanage during the holidays and other weekends. But no matter how familiar they were to her, it was still hard to accept. Charley knew if it was heart wrenching for Danny, it was affecting the bros even more, especially for Modo. She could tell he was fighting the urge to hurt someone. Or rather find Danny's family and make sure they get what they deserve for everything they did. Charley saw how hard Modo was clenching his bionic hand, shaking with suppressed rage. She was sure if he clenched any harder the fingers would dig into the palm and the wires would be exposed and short circuit, rendering his hand useless.
"Modo, your hand!"
"Huh?" Modo looked at his bionic hand and noticed the dent marks his fingers left on his metal palm. "Oh…s-sorry, Charley ma'am. I…I guess I'm more upset about it than I thought."
"I'd be more concerned if you weren't upset with what happened." Charley took Modo's bionic hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.
"I know you told us you weren't in a position to help the kid out Charley-girl," Throttle cut in. "But things have changed now. Like it or not, Danny-girl's caught up in this war of ours. She has information on what Limburger's up to…or at least he thinks she does since he's out for her. With her family on the run, she's even more vulnerable. You know more about this kind of stuff than we do."
"Taking her to the cops was out of the question," Vinnie added. "What with her family's career choice and all."
"We know this is a lot to ask from you Charley," Throttle said. "Don't worry, we have no intention of having her stay here. We all know it's too risky with her background. We just thought maybe you might know someone who could-"
"No." Charley put her hand up to stop Throttle before he could finish what he was going to say. "Seriously guys: do you remember what I've done and what I've survived before meeting that kid? I've been kidnapped by-and have sometimes escaped-men who are in many ways physically stronger than me. I've learned how to handle technology centuries beyond Earth's most advanced mechanisms. I've been transported to Mars and escaped the head slaver who tried to make me his own personal sex toy. Helped destroy equipment produced by alien invaders. I would go on about my accomplishments, but it would take all day," Charley smiled. "Providing temporary care for a teenager with a mouth who was thrown into a drug trafficking ring will be a cakewalk compared to all that. I can let her crash here for the night. Then tomorrow I'll call child services and they'll see about finding a placement-"
"Placement? You mean like a foster home!?" Modo suddenly stood up from his chair. "We can't send her to a foster home! She'll be moved from one place to another, and who knows if the foster family will be good to her! And once she's eighteen she'll be kicked out of the system with no support or anyone to rely on! She'll be living on the streets and be a prime target for pimps and drug dealers!"
"Modo…before we say anything else, where do you get this stuff from?" Vinnie raised his eyebrows at him.
"Were you up all night the other week binge watching LA Law again?" Throttle asked, pushing down his glasses to look at Modo with his red eyes.
"N-no! No of course not!"
Charley, Throttle and Vinnie each looked at Modo. Modo paused for what felt like an eternity, even though it was only a few seconds. Modo twiddled his fingers together for a moment, and then looked down at the ground, a blush plastered on his face.
"I-it was Judging Amy."
Charley snorted, then looked down and covered her mouth so the Mice couldn't see or hear her laughing. Vinnie just covered his face while Throttle looked down at the table while shaking his head, the two Martian males groaning in disappointment. Modo loved his court dramas. And it didn't surprise her that he would take an interest in Judging Amy,which centered on the juvenile justice system. Try as she did, Charley couldn't stop the snort that came from her mouth. But she was able to stop herself before it went further. Humor would come at another time.
"I'm sorry Modo. But we talked about this yesterday-living with us is not an option. Child services is better equipped to handle this sort of thing than we are."
"But what about Limburger?" Modo asked. "He's after Danny-girl, and wherever social services takes, her he'll find her. She won't be safe anywhere." "We'll call them tomorrow after we shut down Limburger's operation," Throttle said. "Tonight."
"Finally!" Vinnie thrust his elbows behind him with his fists clenched. "I got so much adrenaline in my system that I need to get out, and now!"
"What about afterwards?" Modo asked. "Danny already got killed almost three times in one day to find us. If we let social services place her somewhere she doesn't know or like, what will stop her from leaving the place they take her to? It'll be a never-ending cycle. Even if she doesn't run off, I doubt she'll forgive us. She'll think we betrayed and abandoned her, like everyone else has in her life. It could be the one thing that sends her over the edge. And I doubt she'll be able to come back from it."
"Let me guess: there was an episode about that in Judging Amy?" Vinnie asked.
"No. It was from an episode of Law and Order: Special Victims Unit," Modo answered as though it was obvious.
"We'll cross that bridge when we get there Modo," Throttle answered, though the tone of his voice had a hint of doubt. "One situation at a time."
"Question: what if Limburger decides to come here to look for her?" Charley asked while she was smoothing out Modo's bionic palm to fix the dents she made. "Modo said they tried to make a grab for her at her apartment last night and saw Modo with her. So they'll probably try here next."
"We thought of that too Charley-girl." Throttle looked at Modo. "Modo, Vincent and I will stake out Limburger tower to find out what that overstuffed anchovy is up to. You up for backing up Charley and giving her some aid in case they come over and try to make a grab for Danny-girl?"
"Let's face it: you're the only one who can talk to that kid for more than five minutes without wanting to destroy something," Vinnie said. "That and she responds to you better than she does to us."
Modo opened his mouth to say something, paused as if to think it over, then closed his mouth. No one could come up with anything to add or to counter Vinnie's point. What was more, neither of them could believe that Vinnie, of all the mice, actually said something that made sense. All of them stared at Vinnie, who just blinked and sat in his seat for a few moments.
"Why does everyone do that when I say something that actually makes sense?"
"Because you rarely do," Modo answered.
"Guys, not now." Charley rolled her eyes. They had more important issues to deal with.
"But seriously Modo. Would you?" Throttle cut in.
"Of course I will." Modo paused. "I promise you Charley-ma'am: Danny-girl won't be a problem. And I'll keep you both safe if Limburger tries to make a move on us."
Just then, everyone heard a high pitched scream coming from the garage. Charley and everyone rushed out of the kitchen space to the garage. Modo was the first to rush out, the blaster of his arm cannon out. Throttle and Vinnie followed suit, their blasters in their hands ready to back their larger Bro up in case he was outnumbered in whatever emergency was occurring, Charley being the last one out. Charley looked to Vinnie's side to see what they had stopped for. What she saw caught her by surprise. Danny was on her back, staring at Vinnie's red racing motorbike with its motor running. Throttle's and Modo's motorcycles stood next to Vinnie's cycle on both sides, as if joining in on a stare down against Danny. Modo deactivated his arm cannon and helped Danny up from the ground, and the three motorcycles slowly backed away. Dany brushed the dust and whatever imaginary dirt was on her already dirty jeans nonchalantly, trying to appear as un-phased as possible. Charley inwardly rolled her eyes. While she only just met Danny, she spent enough time with the Biker Mice to recognize when one was trying not show he or she was scared or emotional about something.
"You okay, Little Lady?" Modo asked.
"Yeah…yeah, I'm fine." Danny paused. "Note to self: keep a helmet with me at all times when near alien motorbikes."
"Care to tell us what happened, Kid?" Throttle put his blaster away and had his hands at his hips.
"I don't-"
"Danielle." Modo looked down at her, using a stern voice. "Be honest. Like my gray-furred Momma always used to say: Honesty is the best policy."
"And we're good at picking up lies," Vinnie added.
"Fine," Danny sighed irritably. "I got bored waiting for you to come back, and I wanted to see how these wicked cool bikes work. So I went over to one to see what features each has. But when I climbed over the red one, it threw a hissy fit and threw me off. Then the other bikes joined in to help it gang up on me."
"Maybe I should've warned you before we had our private discussion." Modo patted Danny on her shoulder. "Our bikes are very temperamental over who rides or touches them."
"They only let people who they know touch them, let alone ride them. Each Martian bike has a bond with its individual owner, so the only ones who are allowed to be so close to them are the owners who bond with them. If others who aren't their owners touch them, it's because the owner is nearby in case someone tries to do something," Throttle added. "That's why they let Charley touch them when we first came to Earth after we just met. It wasn't until later on after getting used to her that they warmed up to her." Throttle frowned at Danny. "Which is another reason why we told you not to touch anything."
"Plus, we activated the safety on the bikes to prevent others-specifically nosy and smart-mouthed teenagers who don't listen when we say don't touch anything-from causing damage to the bikes and whatever may be nearby," Vinnie concluded. He paused when everyone looked at him again. "What? I maybe a destructive maniac, but I'm a responsible destructive maniac!"
"Now there's an oxymoron for ya," Modo quipped.
"I don't know what surprises me more: you three putting safeties on your bikes so nothing blows up that isn't done by you, or Vinnie using himself and responsible in the same sentence." Charley paused. "It's official: I'm still asleep and this is all a dream."
"I can help prove otherwise, Sweetheart." Vinnie wiggled his eyebrows lewdly.
"Vinnie!" everyone but Danny yelled at Vinnie.
"What?" Vinnie smiled innocently. "I was just gonna take off some of my fur and sprinkle it on her arm and ask if she felt that."
"Yeah…I haven't even known you for a full day and even I know that's a load of mierda." Danny rolled her eyes and crossed her arms across her chest.
"…okay, none of us speak Spanish, but I know that was a cuss word." Throttle frowned at Danny.
"You know, since we rescued you from the streets, gave you shelter and are protecting you from the alien menace that wants you dead, you should show us all a little more respect." Vinnie looked down at Danny, a disapproving look on his face.
Charley rolled her eyes when Danny stuck her tongue out at Vinnie. This was all too familiar to her. She would often see Vinnie doing idiotic action similar actions to Danny and scoff as though he was innocent of the matter, or that he did nothing to deserve any criticism. Now the tables have turned and now the Bros were the ones who had to teach someone respect and self-control. Maybe now they would have a better understanding of what they put her through for nearly four years. Not with the lack of respect; they gave her that, with a few hiccups due to a lack of cultural awareness. But often their lack of self-control in their playfulness would leave her mentally exhausted and with a garage that was in dire need of repairs. Now they were dealing with a teenager who she obviously could tell was acting like a smartass to cover up her pain and insecurity, and allowed her curiosity to get the better of her. Life could be so ironic sometimes.
"Manners, Little Lady," Modo reminded Danny, pointing a finger at her face.
Danny crossed her arms across her chest, a sour look on her face. No matter what, a teenager was a teenager.
"Okay, are we gonna just ignore the elephant in the room?" Vinnie asked. "We told her to stay put and not touch anything, and what does she do? The exact opposite!"
"Pot, meet Kettle," Charley snarked. "You seem to have a habit of doing that a lot too I've noticed, Vinnie." Charley paused. "Actually all three of you do, but you're the biggest offender."
"That's not the point Charley-girl." Vinnie looked at Charley with a serious look on his half-metal face. "If she disobeyed us-WHILE we were nearby-this means she'll do worse if we leave her alone!"
"I just wanted a closer look," Danny mumbled, looking away with her arms across her chest. "S'not like I was gonna pull them apart or try to steal one of them." Danny then looked back at them, her brown eyes glistening with tears she was fighting to contain. "And for the record, you told me not to touch or take anything. You didn't say I couldn't get a closer look. So I didn't disobey you! You're just changing the orders because you forgot to tell me something specific and you're pissed. So quit making me your damn scapegoat!"
"Easy, Little Lady." Modo squeezed Danny by both of her shoulders to prevent a potential emotional meltdown. "No one is making you their scapegoat, punching bag, or blaming on you for anything. But this is a serious issue. Normally if anyone else touched our bikes we would at best scare them away, or at worst…well…I think you can see where this is going. There was a time when Limburger stole Lil' Hoss while I was weak from some blue toxic gunk that got poured on me a few years ago and…let's just say be glad you weren't there to see." Modo paused. "Not a good memory."
"I hate to say it Modo but Vinnie's right," Throttle cut in. "This is concerning."
"I'm standing right here you know! Don't talk about me like I'm not here and that I'm some kind of psycho!"
"Danielle." Modo gave Danny a firm look with the firm tone to match when he called Danny by her formal name. When she stopped, Modo looked back at everyone. "She's still on edge from last night Bros. And we don't need to go into what she's been through before getting caught up in all this." He put a hand on Danny's shoulder. "I already promised I'd be here in case Limburger comes back for her. I'll make sure we don't have any moments like these. You got my word as a biker and a soldier."
Charley blinked as she quickly looked at Danny while Modo was defending the teenager. Was it her imagination, or was Danny blushing? She wasn't able to get a good look as Danny had her head facing the other direction, but Charley was sure she saw a faint pink tint in her cheeks. Maybe she was just embarrassed? It would be the most common explanation, but Charley couldn't help but feel there was more than that. If she was embarrassed, wouldn't the blush have appeared sooner? Danny's flush appeared on her cheeks when Modo had her close by and was defending her, and not sooner. Then again, Charley couldn't be sure with so much going on at once.
"Don't make up excu-" Vinnie's muzzle was covered by Charley's hand. "Mmmph?"
"Vinnie, remember what we talked about yesterday about treating me like a damsel in distress?" Charley looked at the Bros. "I'll be alright. Modo will be here to keep an eye on Danny. And I've handled worse than some mouthy teenager."
"You sure about this Charley-girl?" Throttle asked.
"Yes Throttle I'm sure." Charley knew the Bros meant well, but she could handle herself. She was getting tired of them acting like she was made of glass. After everything I survived and did while with them these past three years it should've been enough to let them know I'm no wallflower or some fragile piece of china.
"Alright," Throttle agreed, albeit reluctantly. "Vincent and I will stake out Limburger tower and find out what's going on."
"Right." Vinnie turned to look back at Charley. "Promise you'll let us know the moment she steps out of line."
"Vinnie, I'll be fine. Just make sure you come back in one piece."
"Right. Keep the explosions to a minimum." Vinnie winked at Charley, and then turned to look at Danny. "I'm watching you like a hawk, kid."
"How can you watch me like a hawk? You're a mouse." Danny paused. "And how can you watch me if you're going on a stake out? Last I check you got two eyes not a hundred, and they can't detach from your skull."
"Danny. Mouth." Modo tugged on Danny's ponytail again.
"Why you-" Vinnie began before Throttle cut in.
"Vincent. Stakeout." Throttle grabbed Vinnie by one of his bandoleers and pulled him to the bikes.
"What about break-"
"We'll grab some dogs on the way there."
"Yeah…not an expert, but I don't think hot dogs are customary stakeout grub," Danny snarked.
"No one asked for your opinion, Squirt!" Vinnie shouted back at Danny.
"That's what happens when you don't read comics! You miss out on the obvious!"
"Danny!" Modo tugged Danny's ponytail again.
I have this feeling this kid is gonna be bald by the end of the day. Charley thought as Throttle dragged Vinnie away before the two could get into another verbal altercation.
So much for a lazy and enjoyable Sunday morning.
Karbunkle looked at the powdery white substance between his thumb and index finger, examining the contents. Even with all of the concoctions and inventions he created, it never ceased to amaze him that something so small could cause so more physical and psychological damage than anything he has ever been personally responsible for. He could not help but feel jealous. Him, a self-described technical and biological genius, jealous that a nonliving object was capable of doing so much more harm than anything he ever did just by existing. He also couldn't help but feel some respect. It was amazing that something so simple and small could do so much damage just by existing.
But like with anything that existed, Karbunkle felt the effects could be amplified by the hand of science. Especially anything that had the potency to already alter one's mental frame or health with one dose. After all, with enough modifications, one's poison could be another's antidote, or in this case, the key to victory. He grabbed a vial filled with blue liquid and sprinkled some of the methamphetamine he was brought earlier. He watched as the blue liquid began to foam as it made contact with the white power, some of the contents spilling out over his gloved hand and forearm. Karbunkle brought the concoction to his eye level for a better view. He could not help the swell of pride filling up inside him: he held what could be the answer for victory after over three years of defeat after defeat by the Biker Mice.
Karbunkle watched the foam eventually cease from vial and settling down, leaving Karbunkle with three quarters of a full vial. Just enough to run a test to find out its potency.
"Now all that is needed is to test its potency before its mass production and delivery to Plutark." Karbunkle considered Fred as usual. Fred loved to be Karbunkle's personal guinea pig, as anything Karbunkle did had the potential for pain. But he needed a test subject who's DNA was pure in order to better assess the effects on one's body chemistry. Fred was the exact opposite. "Now where can I get a good test subject with uncompromised DNA?"
Karbunkle looked around for a prime test subject. His gaze fell upon one of the goon guards by the doorway holding. He wasn't particularly large or intimidating, at least not by Plutarkian standards. But he would still be perfect for the experiment. Karbunkle smirked.
"You there. Come here. I have a little proposition for you."
The guard blinked, looking back and forth until he pointed at himself. Karbunkle nodded and gestured him forward. The guard complied and stepped forward, albeit warily.
"Don't be shy. You have no reason to be afraid of me," Karbunkle reassured. Well, of me directly anyway. "You are always suffering the wrath of those annoying Biker Mice, correct? Yes…I know you are." Karbunkle did not give the guard the opportunity to answer. "Always suffering from the wrath of their missiles, punch, tails, and whatever they have in their arsenal."
"Yeah…pisses me off to no end," the guard agreed. "Always having to dodge grenades, nursing black eyes and broken noses and arms."
"It is not just merely your body that gets bruised when they succeed in their endeavors I am sure," Karbunkle continued. "But your pride and ego. Yes…a bunch of rodents standing on hind legs making fools of such men as you on a weekly basis." Karbunkle smirked. "What would you say if I told you I hold the key to making you a power to be feared by your enemies?"
"I say you have my undivided attention." The guard looked at the blue concoction Karbunkle made. "What is it that you got anyway? Fuel for a new weapon? A special kind of virus that attacks a rodent's insides?"
"Not quite…but very close." While Karbunkle was talking, he moved his other hand in his lab coat to pull out a spare syringe he kept with him, making sure the guard would not see his actions. "It could be the very key to our success on this planet. All I need to do…is to test its effectiveness."
With that, Karbunkle suddenly grabbed the goon guard's arm and jammed the needle in the man's arm. Before the guard realized what was going on and try to get away, Karbunkle introuced the blue substance into the guard's bloodstream. The guard screamed in pain as he pulled his arm away from the sadistic scientist's grip as if it would stop whatever had happened. But it was too late, and the poor guard's fate was decided for the sake of science…and, Karbunkle could not deny, for his own pleasure and curiosity as well. The guard watched in horror as the serum started taking effect: the veins on the guard's left forearm began to pop out, a rich blue color. The popping of the veins continued up through the guard's left bicep and tricep muscles, and then spread to his neck. The blue serum made its way to the other side of the guard's body and up through the neck until the veins on all exposed body parts were popping out and visible. But that was not all that happened. The enlargement of the veins spread up to the guard's brain. The sensation was so overwhelming that the guard fell to his knees, screaming in pain. He clutched his head as if to stop the pain and whatever Karbunkle injected into him from spreading. It was a futile attempt. The bulging veins reached the guard's eyes and he began to foam at the mouth.
Karbunkle watched with both morbid fascination and sadistic pleasure at what was transpiring before him. It was not just the guard's skin that began to change, but also his face. The guard's eye color began to change from a dark brown to a light brown, and then his eyes were completely gone. All that remained in his eyes were the white eyeballs. Karbunkle watched as the guard continued to foam at the mouth, a gleeful look plastered on his face as he watched the results of his experiment progress. The scream of pain escaping the possessed guard's mouth eventually turned into a primal roar of rage. The guard wildly started swinging at Karbunkle, which the mad scientist was easily able to maneuver away from. The guard continued to wildly punch the air, lab table, and anything that was in his vicinity.
Perfect…almost. Karbunkle pulled out a notebook in his labcoat and made notes of his current results. I will need to adjust the dosage to make it easier to control their rage. I will also need to alter the chemical makeup a bit more so they will not lose their ability to think and process information.
Just then, the elevator dinged. Karbunkle looked over and saw Limburger emerge through as the elevator doors opened. No doubt his Plutarkian superior wanted to inquire on the progress of the new project. While some altercations still needed to be made, Karbunkle knew there was no doubt Limburger would be pleased with the progress of his experiments.
"Greetings, my good Doctor." Limburger stepped forward from the elevator. "How are we faring in the progress of our new product for Plutark?"
"Well on our way, Your Cheddary Cheesiness," Karbunkle answered. "As you can see by the current results, we are well on our way in Operation: Redemption."
Limburger looked over to the goon guard that was trashing Karbunkle's lab. He watched as the goon guard grabbed Fred, who was playing with Karbunkle's tools, and threw him against a table covered with glass beakers and gas lamps. Naturally, Fred squealed in delight in the torture and pain, and having the shards of glass embedded in his tentacle arm and legs added more thrills for the creature. Limburger watched the guard smash Karbunkle's materials, then went for the walls and started pounding them relentlessly. The other guards just stared in shock, afraid to stop their fallen friend. Limburger rubbed his chin with his thumb and index finger, intrigued.
"I must admit Karbunkle, I like what I see so far." Limburger smiled. "So much rage and power…a perfect tool to use against those testosterone-infused rodents. Though I'm curious…how long do these effects last?"
Just as Limburger asked this question, the guard lunged at Limburger and Karbunkle. The two male figures immediately went in separate directions, narrowly dodging the onslaught of fists from the enraged male. The guard grabbed a table he had earlier smashed into pieces and threw it at Limburger's direction. The Plutarkian shrieked and ducked, the table narrowly missing the top of his head as it landed just inches behind him. The guard let loose a primal roar, which steadily increased in pitch. Limburger watched as the guard stopped roaring, fell to his knees, and then collapsed on his stomach. Limburger slowly stood up from his crouching position and saw that in the back of the guard's head was a needle and syringe. Karbunkle stood behind the guard, panting. It did not take long for Limburger to figure out what had just transpired.
"Very…very impressive, Doctor," Limburger complimented. "Such raw, unadulterated power and aggression. "
"Thank…thank you, your Flatulently Fragrant one," Karbunkle complimented as he got control of his breathing. "Sadly, work still needs to be done in order to control the aggression of those who take my new Rage Amplifier formula. As well as the ability to know who to target-"
"Unfortunately, we do not have that luxury Karbunkle," Limburger interrupted as two random goons dragged the unconscious body away-after tying it up with chain mail as a safety precaution for themselves. "The Biker Mice have sadly caught on to our operation all due to a bottom feeder from gutters of the street. It is only a matter of time before they know what we are doing. We will need to ship what we have to Plutark tonight."
"But how will the High Chairman accept-"
"There are scientists on Plutark who I am sure can complete what you have started, my good Doctor," Limburger finished. "Time is unfortunately not on our side. We cannot afford to take chances with those rodents sniffing around. We will have to make do with what we have."
Karbunkle frowned. He was a scientist who prided himself on perfection in his work, down to the last detail. It was simply unacceptable to allow his work to remain untouched and unperfected, no matter what the circumstances were. Making it worse, to allow other scientists-those who could not even begin to comprehend what his brilliant mind had started-to alter the fruits of his labor…it just added insult to injury! But there was nothing he could do at the moment, so he went along with it.
"Yes, my Feta Fineness…I can see the logic behind your decision."
"Besides, after witnessing the fruits of your labor, I believe everything is ready for the trap I have set in motion for the Biker Mice."
"With all due respect, your Cream Cheesiness…how do we know this trap you have will work? We have set many up in the past, and all of them have failed miserably."
"Because, in the past, my personal goon army has been too afraid to continue forward whenever those rodents would gain an advantage. This time, with the sheer rage of your formula coursing through their veins, they will know neither fear nor pain…only hate and the desire to inflict pain." Limburger smirked. "In addition, this is only part of what will make this plan effective against the Biker Mice."
"What else did you have in mind, your Cream Cheesiness?"
To answer Karbunkle, Limburger merely chuckled coldly
"Oh, my dear Karbunkle…why spoil the surprise?" Limburger smirked. "You will just have to wait and see."