Chapter 10: Parasol in Paradise

As the two sat down on the bed, Lilo started to gently pat Nani's shoulder so that she could comfort her. "Are you okay? What's wrong?" she asked her older sister in a soft, concerned voice.

Hearing Lilo's concern, Nani slowly stopped her sobbing, regaining control of herself. "Oh, Lilo… I almost thought I lost you."

"Why?" Lilo asked curiously. "Scrump and I are right here."

"No, no! I don't mean losing you physically! I mean the social worker," she answered, "Cobra… he says that I'm not good enough. He's giving me a month to prove to him that I can take care of you or he'll… take you away."

"What?!" Lilo gaped in confusion. "Mr. Bubbles can't take me away from you! How can he do something like that?"

"It's his job, Lilo. A social worker's job is to make sure that—"

"Well then, he's wrong! He's as wrong as Mertle!" Lilo retorted. "You're the best sister I could ever ask for!"

"No, no, I admit that it's true. I'm not the best sister in the world." Nani was forced to admit, spitting out the words harshly as though they were sour lemons. "When he spoke to me, I was forced reflect on everything I did last night. And upon reflecting, I realised that taking you home against your will was the reason you ran away in the first place. None of this would have happened if I made a reasonable compromise… I guess I'm not cut up for this whole parenting stuff, huh?" she finished, giving a small choked laugh.

Lilo began to feel extremely guilty as she realised that the reason Nani was in hot water was because of her own selfish actions. "I'm sorry I ran away… I didn't mean to cause you any trouble…" she said, trying to reassure her sister.

"I know you didn't, Lilo." Nani hugged Lilo, trying to console her fears, "But sometimes actions speak louder than words. Your actions showed that you weren't willing to compromise, that you really wanted to see that…'falling star'." She smiled at her sister's innocence, describing a falling space rock as the ancient "star that fell from the heavens" story. "I had been afraid that it was dangerous, but perhaps I should have seen it from your point of view. You were right, I guess. A falling meteorite—"

"Falling star!" Lilo corrected enthusiastically.

"Alright, Lilo. You got me, it's not a falling meteorite, it's a falling star," Nani corrected with a sly grin on her face. "So as I was saying, a falling star would really be an once-in-a-lifetime kind of thing, huh? Something you couldn't possibly miss."

"Yeah, and to be honest…" Lilo put her palms together in prayer, closing her eyes in bliss. "The reason I wanted to make a wish on the falling star is because I just… want someone that's always there for me. Someone who would never leave me behind or abandon me. I wanted the star to send me an angel, just like a fairy tale."

"Oh, darling… I'm sorry," Nani swallowed hard, hearing her sister's words. "I'm so sorry you feel this way. I… I never was there for you enough, was I?"

Lilo's bright brown eyes widened at Nani's words. "No!" she denied, "you were always there for me!"

"Lilo, don't lie to me." Nani looked her sister right in the eye, causing Lilo to look away in discomfort. "I've been your sister for years. I can tell when you're fibbing. The social worker is right. I never was as good as Mum and Dad…" She looked down in shame at her own admittance. There, she finally said it out loud. For the past year ever since that fateful car accident, she was forced to take care of Lilo all by herself. She had attempted to fill the footsteps of giants, trying to pick up and salvage what was left of their broken family.

Of their broken 'ohana.

But all of that had to eventually reach a tipping point. It wasn't easy for a teenager to take care of a growing child in the slightest. Coupled with the fact that she had to juggle a job with her caretaking duties, and there was a very good reason the government had kept sending social workers over to check on them. Finally, after Cobra's harsh words, Nani was forced to admit that she had been lying to herself all along.

Cobra was right, she really couldn't do enough. Despite everything, she couldn't manage take care of her sister. And now, her own sister could be taken away from her, and there was nothing she could do except buck up.

But could she pick up the pieces of their family and prove Cobra wrong? Or was that nothing but an optimistic, fleeting dream? She didn't know, and truth be told she wasn't sure if she wanted to know the answer.

"Nani?" Lilo broke the silence tentatively.

"Yes?" Nani responded, fearful of what Lilo might want to add. After all, she had all but admitted that she hadn't done enough to take care of Lilo.

"I like you more as a sister than a mother," Lilo stated matter-of-factly.

That simple response put it all in perspective. Of course! It was so simple that Nani was tempted to bash her head into the wall for overthinking everything once again, but refrained from doing so at the last minute in case Lilo misunderstood the situation and called the ambulance. Again. Once was enough, she wasn't going to explain a misunderstanding to the emergency services yet another time.

Lilo was saying that no matter what, she felt like she had done enough for her. Not as a parental guardian, but as a sister.

Mahalo, Lilo. You won't be disappointed. I'll take this second chance and use it well!

Nani made up her mind. As a sister, she would start to pay more attention to her. A journey of a thousand miles began with a simple step. Lilo was right. She might not be there yet, but that didn't mean she couldn't try. She would show Cobra, no, the whole of Kauai, that she was qualified to be Lilo's guardian. And she would start by her sister's wish. A guardian angel. One that would always be there for Lilo even if she couldn't physically be.

"Lilo," she started, "can you please change out of your nightgown? I'm going to bring you somewhere to make for this."

"Sure!" Lilo perked up, finally relieved to see her sister recover from her moping. "Let me change into my favourite red dress!"

"Don't take too long." Nani smiled as she walked out of her sister's room to give her privacy.

She knew the perfect place to get just that "guardian angel" for her sister. No longer would Lilo be alone.

And that was a promise she intended to keep.

"Woah! Woah! Sorry, I'm fragile! Ignore me!"

Pleakley continued to yelp, weaving and trying to dodge a sudden stream of people who burst out of the Birds of Paradise hotel without warning. He had been waiting right outside the main entrance at 625's request. The experiment had asked him to head over to the Birds of Paradise hotel, saying that Jumba would most likely be there to cause trouble since it had a large population of humans. Pleakley had initially scoffed at the suggestion, namely because he still thought that 625 was a rascal, but in the end he relented. After all, there was really nothing he could do. 625 was right — every extra second Jumba spent on this planet meant an extra second of alien interference to the eco-biodiversity. If Jumba wasn't brought back into custody soon, Earth might be wrecked beyond repair, courtesy of one mad scientist. As a result, he swallowed his pride and agreed to 625's plan.

Now as Pleakley struggled to avoid being trampled by a stampeding mess of screaming tourists, he regretted listening to a single word that yellow cocky experiment had to say. 625 had mentioned that Jumba would most likely be at the most popular location, which made sense. What didn't make sense was why all those humans were rushing at him.

I don't wanna be trampled! They're messing up my beautiful attire! This is all six-two-five's fault, that little monster must have known this would happen! I bet he was hoping it would too! Well, jokes on him, at least I managed to blend in perfectly with the humans in this society, thanks to my ingenious disguise! As long as I minimize contact with the native humans in the future, I can make any potential disruption to their closed society virtually non-existent!

As the last of the humans were gone, an irritated Pleakley fumbled with his attire, crumpled amidst all the shoving. "Darn! I just bought this attire too! Now I need to iron it!" Before he could straighten his attire, he had a new menacing voice addressing him from the hotel entrance.

"Who are you, and what are you doing here?! You are not native to this planet!"

Pleakley gulped, coming face-to-face with someone he most definitely did not want to meet. He'd been briefed about the mission by the Grand Councilwoman and Gantu. With a sinking heart, he instantly recognised the escaped criminal Jumba, standing barely three feet away from him.

Gah! This was so, so, so, so, so not good! Pleakley mentally cursed his bad luck at the turn of events. What were the chances that he would end up running straight into Jumba himself? All he had wanted to do was a stakeout, not an actual meeting with the infamous Jumba. "U-uh, well, uh, you see, uh, um…" he stumbled on his words, tongue-tied. Far too late he realised that trying to think of a plausible reason as to why an alien would be on a protected planet that wouldn't be an obvious lie would be much harder that he had assumed.

However, before he could think of a reasonable response, Jumba gazed at him warily. "Wait… are you with Galactic Federation?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Yes!" Pleakley exclaimed, before hastily backtracking upon realising the implications of what he just said. "Wait, I mean no! I mean, I'm not-gah!"

"Speak normal, you speak too fast! I can't understand a word you're saying!"

"I'm Galactic Federation, yeah, but!" he raised his voice when Jumba's face turned dark, "But I'm actually on leave, yeah! I ain't supposed to be here on anything important!" Pleakley lied through his teeth, hoping that Jumba wouldn't suspect a thing.

Please, please, please, just let him be so socially inept because of his science obsession that he can't tell that someone like me is lying, Pleakley pleaded to himself. I'm not that good at lying at all. Oh no! What if he's a living polygraph? If that's the case, I am so finished! Momma and all my siblings will be at my funeral! And the worst part is that he could get rid of me easily, and no one will ever know. Oh, the irony! My first time on Earth would also be my last! I will never ever get to explore the rest of Earth at all! This is some kind of sick joke the universe is playing on me, losing everything in the one planet that I spent years of my life trying to visit—

"Hey!" Jumba yelled, disrupting Pleakley's panicked train of thought. "Are you spacing out on me?!"

"Yeep!" Pleakley jumped. "No, I didn't. I was, uh, just thinking about stuff! Yeah, stuff! Regular stuff, that is, you know, nothing important at all!"

Jumba smiled eerily at Pleakley's response. "So, you are not a part of the police? You know, the famous Galactic Armada?" he trawled, treading carefully with his prompt.

Seizing the chance, Pleakley decided to tell a half-truth. "Oh, yes. I'm no Armada soldier. All I am is an expert on Planet Earth! I was sent here to investigate this ecology system of this delicate planet! Heh heh!" Pleakley laughed, chuckling nervously as Jumba eyed him with suspicion. At least it wasn't a complete lie, he really was an Earth expert in the Federation. Jumba didn't need to know the rest though.

Amazingly, it looks as though Jumba appeared to have bought it. The scientist's formerly cautious expression was now replaced with one of relief. "Oh, it's nothing. So, expert on this planet, eh? Jumba is curious. What is your name?"

"Pleakley! My name's Age-I mean, Pleakley!" Pleakley started sweating, hoping that Jumba hadn't caught him out. He had almost introduced himself as "Agent Pleakley", which would have blown his cover sky high.

"Pleakley, huh? That is a nice name," Jumba said. From his mundane response, it appeared that he had missed Pleakley's slip-up. "So then, Pleakley, just out pure curiosity, nothing sinister or anything, but where is your spaceship?"

A spaceship? Oh no! He's looking for an escape route! Wait, what am I complaining about?! Him trying to get away is a good thing! This means that he won't be on this planet anymore!

But if he gets away, then Captain Gantu will be on me! The Federation will court martial me for gross incompetence if they know that I'm responsible. But on the other hand, I can't just let him stay here! He'll destroy this beautiful, delicate planet! Maybe with I can convince Gantu to take him off… oh wait.

Pleakley almost facepalmed when he realised that his only way off the planet was Captain Gantu's spaceship, which meant that there was no way he could sneak Jumba away. There was no chance the Galactic Armada captain would take him off the planet unless it's to prison, and there was no way Jumba would be dumb enough to fall for such an obvious trap.

Oh, darn! Since he couldn't explain where the spaceship was, how was he going to explain how he got here to Jumba now?! He couldn't just say that he teleported to Earth, Jumba would never buy such an outlandish lie.

Pleakley forced a smile as he tried his best to come up with an excuse on the fly. "Well, sure, as I said, I am a Federation Earth expert. But I'm um, not here on business! Yeah, I'm actually here on vacation, and uh, the yeah, tour group left without me. I accidentally stayed behind! So I needed to wait for the next intergalactic bus carrier service to pick me up! Yeah, that's it!"

There was silence for a few seconds as Jumba tried to process what he had just heard.

"Hm, are you sure you are not being with Galactic Armada section of Federation?" Jumba was starting to get suspicious now, and with good reason.

Pleakley gulped as Jumba hit the nail on the head. Sure, he actually wasn't an Armada soldier, but because of 625 and the Grand Councilwoman, he was basically considered an undercover Armada spy! "I swear I'm not!" he denied, a little too loudly. "You see, that's why I'm not wearing that Federation uniform. All active United Federation agents have to wear that all the time. You know, that standard-issue one for those rank-and-file foot soldiers…"

"Wait a minute!"

Pleakley panicked at Jumba's objection, resisting the urge to flee as fast as his three legs could carry him. Had Jumba noticed a fatal contradiction with what he had just said? Did he figure out that his real mission of being an undercover Federation agent? Oh, it was all over! He shut his eye firmly, preparing for the worst.

"What exactly… are you wearing?"

"Huh?" Pleakley opened his eye in surprise. This wasn't exactly what he was expecting.

"Is that… a dress?" Jumba was raising all four of his eyebrows in disbelief. His lips were curled slightly upwards in mild amusement at the sheer stupidity of what Pleakley was wearing.

Pleakley heaved a sigh in relief when he realised he was safe after all. It turned out all his response had ended up doing was cause Jumba to suddenly notice the outlandish attire that he was dressed in. He immediately set forth to divert to the topic in this new direction, determined to distract Jumba from asking any more Galactic Federation questions. "Neat, eh? It's my disguise!" he said, simultaneously performing a curtsy.

The curtsy did its job alright. As Jumba was unprepared, Pleakley's gesture ended up making him cringe. "T-t-take that ridiculous piece of garment off! Do you want to be noticed by everyone?!"

"This coming from you? Your disguise to fit in with the local humans is a local yellow shirt with sunglasses! I say you stand out as much as a four-eyed alien on a planet filled mainly with two-eyed species!"

There was a pause as the two aliens realised the irony of what was just said. Jumba folded his arms and gave a weird stare at Pleakley when he realised that the one-eye alien had shot himself in the foot with his own argument.

Pleakley chuckled nervously when he had a sudden epiphany — that he hadn't found a way to disguise his single eye yet. Whoops, gotta find some shades for that. "Well," he started, "What I mean to say is, don't be a hypocrite, your disguise for blending in isn't the best, so you have no right to be calling mine lousy."

"But your disguise is another story altogether! This t-t-thing—" he spluttered uncomfortably, "—is all pink and cute and frilly! You stand out as much as an intergalactic rock star! Get away from me!"

"Come on! You're just jealous because I'm pretty!" Pleakley pouted, making Jumba back away from him slightly. "Admit it! This is a great disguise!"

"Yes, it is good disguise," Jumba conceded, "but not for the reason you think! And please for the love of Turo, s-stop twirling that parasol!" he spat out, trying his best to look away from the sight.

Pleakley now smirked, realising that the tables had completely turned against Jumba. "Come on, there's nothing wrong with wearing a dress! People do it on TV all the time!"

"What those foolish people in entertainment industry would do for quick money is a separate matter for another time… wait a minute, why am I arguing with you on this? I am having no time for this!" Jumba gnashed his teeth, determined to immediately put an end to this very awkward conversation. "You're an embarrassment! Jumba is getting out of here, you coot!" He turned around to leave, headed towards a car parked at the hotel's doorstep.

"Wait, what are you doing?" Pleakley asked. "That doesn't look like your car."

"That's because it isn't," Jumba smirked. "I don't have a car here."

"It's not your car? They why are you…" Pleakley suddenly whirled around, staring at the smirking scientist. "Hold it right this moment! You don't mean to tell me you're stealing it? You can't do something like that!"

"Bah," Jumba shrugged at Pleakley's accusation, "It is not stealing. It is simply mere hot-wiring of vehicle."

"Oh no, I don't believe you." Pleakley muttered, shaking his head in disappointment. "This reeks of so much trouble. I can't bear to think of the consequences!"

"Oh, come on!" Jumba pleaded, looking as though he was actively trying to shake Pleakley off him by this point. "I am not stealing it, I am just using it temporarily."

Just the thought of Jumba running out of control in a vehicle caused Pleakley to disregard all of his original thoughts of getting away from Jumba. After all, the mad scientist trusted him now, didn't he? With reckless abandon, Pleakley pointed right at Jumba, shouting, "I'm coming with you!"

"WHAT!" Jumba hollered. There was no way he heard that right. There was no way.

"Yeah, you heard me! Hot-wiring a car? You're nuts! Who knows what trouble you can get into when you're on this planet! So I've made up my mind! What you need is someone with real experience on this planet! I've decided to follow you, and no one can stop me!"

It was only after he had shouted those words that Pleakley realised exactly what he had gotten involved in. In his hastiness, he had agreed to accompany a wanted criminal solely to make sure that said criminal didn't destroy a planet.

Just what had he done?

"You are not coming with me," Jumba said bluntly as he managed to skilfully unlock the car doors and sit on the driver's seat.

"Yes, I am!" All final regrets and thoughts of his own safety left Pleakley's mind at the thought of Earth being ruined by Jumba. Ignoring the cursing scientist, he hoisted himself above Jumba and onto the passenger's seat. "And that's final!" he added, trying his best to avoid Jumba's piercing glare.

The Federation Agent had no idea what he was in for. If only Pleakley had an inkling of what Jumba was really after, then perhaps he might had given his bravery a second thought…

"Welcome to the Kokaua Town Hypermart!" the checkout lady started her usual greeting. "How may I serve you…?"

Her jaw dropped, unable to finish her sentence.

At the front of her counter was a cloaked customer who was pushing five trolleys simultaneously, one right after another, with all five filled right to the brim and overflowing.

Five trolleys. Five freaking supermarket trolleys.

She silently judged the customer as the cloaked figure began to pile the groceries onto her counter.

"Excuse me, sir," she began with a kind tone, "But we have a limit to the maximum amount of simultaneous items you can buy at once." Looking at the customer, the checkout lady realised that he was incredibly short, probably ten years old at most. He didn't even reach the height of the counter! He had to reach his hand up just to place the groceries on her counter. What is a boy like this doing here, buying so many groceries? Is this a practical joke?

"Oh yeah?" the customer retorted, folding his arms. "What's wrong with buying two hundred loaves of bread, a hundred tubs of butter, ninety slices of cheese, sixty cans of tuna, five kilos of ham and bacon…"

The checkout lady was stunned. That was definitely the voice of a young boy. As such, she started to treat the customer differently compared to how she would to a kid. "Woah, woah, hold up! Did you just say two hundred loaves?! Why would you need two hundred loaves of bread?"

"To make sandwiches, duh!" the customer shrugged. "What else did you think I would need it for?"

"I assumed you were going to resell it at a profit," the cashier admitted, scratching her forehead. "That's why we have a cap on the number of the same items you can buy at our store, so as to prevent resale."

Under the cloak, 625 scowled. He had expected this to be a simple payment of goods. "But I'm not going to sell it! I just want to buy a couple hundred loaves of bread, butter, cheese, and other sandwich condiments to make sandwiches!"

"Well, I've never seen anyone buy so many groceries that they need five shopping carts," she replied, "Do you really need to buy sandwich ingredients in bulk?"

"Yes, I do!" 625 clenched his fists in irritation. "Why don't you believe me?!"

"You can start up a sandwich chain with the amount of ingredients you are buying…" the cashier commented. Unfortunately for her, this comment wound up tipping the already irritated 625 over the edge.

"Hey, hey, hey!" he jumped up to the counter, whipping out his bank card. "Oi, look here! It's your job as a cashier to scan my checkout items, right? I've got enough cash in this debit card to pay for all of these," he said, pointing to the trolleys. "So how about you stop being a busybody and do your job!"

The cashier eyed 625 warily. "Where did you get that? Did you steal your parent's credit card?" She pushed the Galactic Federation card back to 625. "I can't accept this transaction!"

"Oh for crying out loud, lady! I'm not a helpless boy! Do I sound like a kid to you?"

He was tempted to take off his cloak to prove his point, but refrained from doing so at the last moment. If he revealed himself as an alien to the public, then all his leverage over Pleakley would poof into thin air, and that would never do. Who was going to do all the hard work then?

"Hey!"

625 turned around to see a new person walking towards the checkout aisle. Great, just what he needed, more witnesses. He could smell trouble coming from a mile away.

"I am the manager of this place, and I will not tolerate an attempted assault of an employee of mine. Get out of my store!"

625 flung his arms out in disbelief, accidentally knocking some of his groceries to the floor. "What is this? Are you trying to kick me out?"

"Yes, I am," the manager answered with a deadpan expression. "I have the right to do so. Beat it, kid. No one causes trouble in my store!"

"How could you just kick me out like that? Whatever happened to 'the customer is always right'?" he yelled, jabbing his finger accusingly at the manager. The manager was lucky that he couldn't see 625's blackened face from under the cloak. His face was practically livid, the experiment getting unusually agitated due to the fact that sandwiches were being denied to him.

"Get out of here before I call the police!"

625 shuddered, the memories of the Galactic Armada police officers still fresh in his mind. Hanging his head down in defeat, he left his array of sandwich ingredients at the checkout, weaving past the trolleys to strut towards the exit. "I swear, I'll leave a bad review for this place!" he called out as he walked out of the hypermarket, taking one last look at the manager and cashier before the hypermart's automatic doors swung shut. The moment they were out of sight, he jumped into the bushes next to the entrance, tearing his cloak off.

He was rightfully miffed by what went down. The conversation between him and the cashier happened to be his first interaction with a human, and even before the stupid manager had jumped in, he had to admit that he didn't like the humans already.

They asked were as stubborn and asked as many questions as Gantu, but they were arguably worse since they didn't know their place. At least Gantu knew when to stand down when ordered, while the supermarket manager tried to continue calling the shots, reducing to back down even after he gave his valid excuse. All I wanted to do was buy sandwich ingredients. Just mere sandwich ingredients, and yet these guys are treating me worse than Blubby and the Council! What, is making sandwiches a crime now? Oh, that'll be the day!

His ears suddenly perked up. Normally, a human wouldn't be able to hear the manager since he was over ten metres away, but 625 wasn't a normal human. Thanks to the superb hearing sense that had been programmed into him by Jumba, he could hear him loud and clear.

"Tourists kids, always a bunch of troublemakers, you know…"

625 couldn't help but to grimace at the manager's unkind comment. What, is it because I'm only like, three feet tall? Is that the reason he treats me like dirt? Because it looks like that attitude never seems to change! Even Gantu treats me like dirt, 625 thought, kicking a pebble with his feet.

"Oh my goodness, did that guy from earlier freaking clear the entire aisle of sandwich goods?! There's nothing left at all!"

625 couldn't resist a chuckle at the manager's comment. It looked as though his hasty exit meant that the staff would waste their time trying to put all the groceries back on the shelves, so at the very least he hadn't come out a complete loser in this. Accepting that he wasn't going to get his sandwiches, he reluctantly threw the cloak he used as a disguise aside and prepared to walk back to the meeting place he had set with Pleakley, not even caring if anyone saw him. Who cares, right? No one cares. They probably won't even put two and two together and realise that I'm an alien! After all, this whole universe is an uncaring…

"You stop right now, six-two-six! Stop!"

His thoughts were rudely interrupted by a familiar voice. That's Jumba's voice, 625 realised, before the he suddenly comprehended the words. Woah, woah, woah! 626? Had he heard wrongly?

Curious, he peered out of the bushes to look for the source of the voice. However, he was unprepared for what he was about to see. The sight ahead of him was so bizarre that 625 almost wished he had a camera so that he could record it for all eternity. It made the buffet he had made for the entire Council seem like a minor feat in comparison. From his vintage point, he managed to catch a glimpse of Jumba and Pleakley, who by the way happened to be in a ridiculous looking dress, driving along the road in a red car.

Although saying that they were driving was perhaps, a stretch of the imagination.

"And you! Let go of the wheel, Pleakley!"

"No! Not until you follow the speed limit!"

Somehow, both Jumba and Pleakley were simultaneously grappling the steering wheel, both unwilling to let the other drive. The resulting struggle for the wheel between the two caused the car to swerve in zig-zags all over the place.

Ergo, the car appeared to be moving in any direction but straight. And the ensuing destruction caused in the wake of its path was glorious.

"Heheheh! Looks like poor Pleak got stuck in a situation that I wouldn't want to be in!" 625 chuckled before he suddenly noticed something peculiar.

Wait… is that death trap headed right for me?!

"Yah, yikes!" 625 yelled, ducking and curling himself up to brace for impact. In his final moments as the headlights shone him down, several thoughts ran through his head.

Wait a minute! I'm designed to be indestructible! Why am I so panicky? Gah, get a hold of yourself! There's no need to act like this over something like this!

On second thought, even if I'm indestructible, I can still feel pain. Gah, if I get hit like this, I'll need crutches! Hey wait… why ain't I moaning in pain and agony yet? And just why are the headlights even switched on in broad daylight?

625 hesitantly got up from his curled position and peeked out of the bush again, only to see the car pass harmlessly by. By sheer luck, it looked as though it swerved back onto the main road instead of crashing into the hypermarket at the last second.

"Do either of those guys even have a driver's license?!" he muttered as the vehicle sped dangerously away. Although, to be honest, 625 was pretty confident that the question he had just asked was a rhetorical one.

"Oh, at least you found Jumba, Pleak," he grinned. "I knew you would be at least a tiny bit useful! Now then, I guess I should let you do all the work. But wait…" Something about what Jumba said was still bugging 625. There was still that matter of Jumba shouting out "six-two-six".

But that couldn't be! He was supposed to be the latest experiment made before Jumba had been captured! Even if Jumba had escaped from the Council, he couldn't possibly have had enough time to make a new experiment. So, how then? Had he heard wrongly? Or did that mad scientist somehow find a way? And if so, when in Turo had Jumba made an Experiment 626?

In the end, his curiosity won over his natural laziness. 625 put the cloak he used as a disguise back on and tailed the out-of-control vehicle.

Although if you asked the lazy experiment, it wasn't "tailing". The more appropriate word that he would use to describe himself following Jumba's runaway vehicle would be "strolling".

Author's Note:

Anyone who had ever worked before in any sector of the service industry should probably be able to relate to that checkout lady. Do not fret, for my sympathy is with you.

Next time — the long awaited meeting between Lilo and Stitch. I've teased it for long enough already!