The Deadliest Inaction
"Alright, attention please! May I please have everyone's attention?"
Alejandro continued tapping on the side of his champagne glass with a fork, the ringing sounding across the entire room and slowly bringing silence down over the crowd of finely-dressed individuals.
"Thank you." He set the glass and the fork down, moving away from the table and standing in a slightly more open area of the ballroom.
"First, I'd like to thank you all for coming to this special event just for me. And I'd also like to thank my good friend Josh for hosting it at his wonderful mansion once again."
He gestured over to the celebrity gossip host, who bowed slightly as the audience applauded.
"And I'd also like to thank my other good friend, Chris McLean, for paying for the wonderful catering that has treated us tonight."
With Alejandro's gesture, Chris casually raised a waving hand as the audience applauded once more.
"Now down to the two major orders of business tonight. First, I'm pleased to inform all of you that I am, in fact, doing much better since the attempt on my life. I am stronger, faster, healthier, and more confident than ever before, and am more grateful than ever to be alive."
The audience applauded again, which Alejandro eventually silenced with a gesture of his hands.
"But the motivations behind said attempt have got me thinking…As wonderful as it is to be Canada's #1 teen heartthrob, as wonderful as it is to have all the money I have…is it really worth it if it's something that could cost me my life? Is my fortune worth it if it could even turn my very own girlfriend – who, thankfully, is now in prison – against me? I think not. And so, for the second order of business tonight, I am here to report to all of you that, after nearly 3 years worth of accumulation, I'll be withdrawing my entire fortune from the First Bank of Toronto tomorrow!"
A collective gasp.
"But Alejandro…" Blaineley interrupted. "Isn't that over 5 million at the least?"
"Exactly. I'll be taking all of it out, and will be dividing it evenly to donate it to some of the greatest charities in existence!"
The audience, as if a sign instructing them to do so had just turned on, burst into wild applause and cheers, with Alejandro once again gesturing humbly.
Off to the side, Chris and Chef glanced at each other. Chef simply shrugged, while Chris looked back at his Hispanic friend with a strange, unreadable look.
And the television cameras were still rolling, broadcasting the announcement all over the city.
Later the next day…
"Next!"
The young man stepped forward, wearing his finest suit as he approached the bank teller.
"Ah. Mr. Ramirez, we've been expecting you." The teller quickly replied.
"I'm sure."
Even though he wasn't looking, Alejandro could feel the presence of the TV cameras behind him, filming this as if it was a publicity stunt.
"We'll have the briefcase ready in just a moment." The teller reported, then disappeared into the backroom.
"Take your time, good sir." Alejandro responded as he casually leaned against the countertop.
"Oh my gosh, Alejandro!"
Alejandro turned to the side as an eager, nearly-hyperventilating voice started screeching next to him.
"It's you! It's really you!" The tall, purple-haired girl called out excitedly as she shoved her way through the crowd of fans, spectators, and fellow bank-goers.
"Yes…it is me." Alejandro responded as he stood up. His single bodyguard, standing out of the line next to him, leaned in casually.
"Everything alright, sir?" He whispered.
"Yes, yes, it's fine." He reassured, then turned back to the fan. "I assume you are a fan?"
"A fan! I'm, like, your biggest #1 fan! You're so incredible! Your performance at the Gemmies not too long ago…SO AWESOME!" She squealed as she jumped up and down.
"Um…All I did was announce the winner."
"And what an announcement it was." She replied dreamily.
But just then, a powerful BOOM went off behind them, and Alejandro, the fan, and the bodyguard all turned around suddenly, as did the rest of the crowd.
A group of five individuals – four men in black suits with black ski masks, and a single woman in the middle – stood at the door, all holding machine guns. The woman had brown hair, a pink top, blue jeans, and a devious grin on her face.
"Alright, nobody move, or else we'll shoot! I'm not lying! This is a stick-up!"
Screams instantly arose throughout the bank, but the crowd moved away from the doors nonetheless.
"Phil, barricade the doors!" The girl ordered.
"Yes, ma'am!"
"Now if you all stay calm, stay down, and do as we say, none of you will have to eat bullets. Bullets, by the way, were invented by my great-great-great…"
"FREEZE!" Alejandro's bodyguard called out, whipping out his handgun.
"NO!" Alejandro shouted before ducking, taking the fangirl down with him.
The girl and her three other goons all responded with their own rapid fire, dropping the single bodyguard in an instant.
Screams burst out of the crowd, all of them throwing themselves to the floor and covering their heads. Some of them cried, while others remained eerily silent.
"Alright. Anybody ELSE who's got a gun or who'd like to be a hero today? Don't lie now!"
The crowd remained silent, aside from a few whimpers.
"Good. Alright, now; Steve, Carl, and Bill! Head into the back there and get that celebrity's fortune, plus whatever else you can grab!"
"Yes, ma'am!" They all replied in perfect unison.
As the three men raced off towards the counter, the woman slowly patrolled the terrified, ducking crowd.
"Now…where is Alejandro Ramirez? You know, Canada's teen heartthrob?"
Over near the counter, Alejandro and the fangirl were lying on the floor side-by-side.
"Not to worry, my Ale! I shall protect you!" And with that, she threw herself on top of him.
Alejandro, however, effortlessly stood up and tossed her off of him.
"Alejandro, no!"
"I am here." He declared firmly, staring right at the criminal.
"Aaahhh…" She slowly approached him, gun still held high. "So here is Canada's youngest philanthropist, in the midst of committing his most generous deed. But whoever could've known that this act of kindness would become the last thing you'd ever do?"
She then grabbed Alejandro by the throat and slowly lowered her gun.
"Say goodnight, Al!"
But just then, there was the sound of glass shattering. The villain turned to see the caped duo dropping in through a skylight, landing on the floor between several cowering civilians.
"Ah…"
The villain dropped Alejandro to the floor and turned to face her new adversaries.
"Hostman and Pythonicus. At last. You're just in the middle of me pulling off my greatest heist yet!"
"And who might you be?"
"My name is Staci Andrews, but you can call me…" She twirled her gun around ominously. "…The Pretty Little Liar."
Hostman and Pythonicus glanced awkwardly at each other before turning back to her.
"Welll…You're clearly not pretty, and not little, so ironically, I'm gonna assume the part you're telling the truth about is you being a liar." Hostman replied bluntly.
"Ah, but am I? My great-great-great-great-second-aunt-twice-removed was a deranged psychopath who broke out of prison about 8 times. You never know…"
She then aimed the gun.
"And here's a quiz for you: Am I lying when I say I'm about to unload this magazine onto both of you?"
Hostman and Pythonicus assumed a fighting stance.
"NOPE!"
She then began firing, and the two dodged the bullets as they leapt constantly behind various covers such as desks and counters.
At that moment, the three goons emerged from the backroom. One was holding the briefcase, while another had the teller by the back of the neck. As soon as they saw the chaos unfolding in front of them, the second goon quickly headbutted the teller, dropping his unconscious body to the floor.
"Boss! We got the 5 million big ones right here!" One reported.
"Good!" She yelled back. "Forget the rest of the money and just shoot them!"
The three goons all raised their machine guns and began firing, while The Liar crept across the hordes of cowering people over to her fourth man against the front façade of the bank, which was mostly lined with glass.
"How are they coming alone?" She asked.
"Four in place. Just one more, and then we're good." He reported. "Still no sign of the cops, even with the two freaks here."
"Good. Keep up the good work."
She then turned back to where the shots were coming from just as they stopped.
"What?! Why'd you fools stop shooting?!"
"We don't know where they went, boss!"
But just then, a microphone-shaped blade went whirling through the air, straight down towards one of her men – the one who had knocked out the teller. In a moment, he too dropped like a rock.
"What the?!"
The small blade wheeled through the air and returned to its owner, perched on top of the chandelier.
"THERE! Shoot the chandelier!"
The two remaining men began firing away, the bullets sparking all around the ceiling above where the chandelier was attached. Eventually, the cable was severed just as Hostman leapt off with the help of his grapple gun. The massive chandelier plunged straight down through the air…
…towards where one particular teenager was standing. She looked up and saw it falling towards her, and screamed in terror.
But at the last moment, another individual leapt towards her and knocked her out of the way.
The obsessive fangirl flew backwards, and the last thing she saw before she hit her head on the floor and blacked out was Alejandro, her idol, who had just saved her, now standing directly under the falling chandelier.
Hostman, too, just barely managed to turn and look right before the chandelier fell. The crashing and smashing of glass paled in comparison to the scream of pain that followed.
Hostman gasped. "NO!"
But his scream alerted the two remaining goons to his location, and they quickly began firing.
At that moment, Pythonicus leapt out from behind a counter and delivered a swift flying kick to one of their heads, knocking him out and dropping him on the floor next to his other unconscious comrade.
The third and final goon panicked, clutching the case full of money to his chest and turning to run away.
Back at the front of the bank, The Liar also began to panic.
"How much longer on those explosives?!" She asked again. As soon as she realized what she had just revealed, she quickly covered her mouth.
"EXPLOSIVES?!" Somebody screamed.
"Or…I could be lying!"
"And…done! The last one is set, boss!"
The Liar facepalmed as the other goon presented her with a trigger.
"THEY'RE GONNA BLOW US ALL UP!"
The bank, once again, plunged into panic. Now everybody was back on their feet again, and storming like mad towards the door.
"FINE!" The Liar swiped up the trigger and raised it high. "The explosives are all lining the front façade of the bank! You all try to escape out the front door, and you're dead!"
The crowd stopped just a few feet from The Liar and her other goon, cowering in fear.
Then, with a sadistic grin and no hesitation, she pressed the first of two buttons.
The explosions went off, but emitted from the back of the bank, in the backroom where, while searching for the money, her other three goons set up the first batch of explosives.
The blast sent everyone tumbling to the floor again, screaming in panic.
"I LIED!"
The explosions especially sent the goon with the case sprawling across the floor, dropping the case in the process. Upon hitting the floor, it split open and the stacks of money spilled across the floor just in front of the fallen chandelier, still pinning the money's owner to the floor.
The entire bank rocked and shook again, and pieces of the ceiling and walls began falling out of place.
"The whole place is gonna go! RUN!"
The crowd began to climb back to their feet, but she raised the trigger again.
"NOPE! There are explosives on the front after all…I just lied about them being the only explosives! Now me and my accomplices will escape…and if any of you try to follow us…then you'll be blown away! Hahahahahaha!"
But just then, the sound of the whirling blade returned, and she only had time to look up before the blade struck her hand holding the remote. She cried out and clutched her wounded hand as the trigger dropped to the floor, landing on the side where the button was and accidentally pressing it.
As promised, the second wave of explosions went off, sending The Liar and her henchman flying forward into the crowd. More screams, and full chaos ensued. Now the masses were trying to escape through the newly blown-open front wall of the bank, charging through broken glass, falling debris, and fire.
Hostman and Pythonicus had already used their grapple guns to ascend to the ceiling of the bank, watching from the safety of another chandelier as the chaos raged. So much happened that they simply couldn't keep track of.
Outside the bank, the failed leader of the failed heist stumbled out, waving and slapping wildly at her burning head.
"Ouch, ouch, OUCH! Maybe the second wave was a bad idea after all, OW!"
She then collapsed to the ground and frantically tried to put out her burning hair as the crowd stampeded around her.
Her henchman who had planted the second wave of explosives stooped down to help her up just as she put out the fire…only after all of her hair had burned off.
"Come on, boss! We've gotta get outta-."
His plea was cut short when the butt of a pistol was smacked against the back of his head, and his unconscious body fell on top of his boss, pinning her to the ground.
"Don't move!" The first responding officer yelled.
Inside the bank, Hostman and Pythonicus tried frantically to search for one person, but eventually found that he was still pinned underneath the fallen chandelier.
"There's Alejandro!" Hostman yelled out. "Come on!"
They both dropped down, the space in front of the chandelier clearing some as the crowd raced out. But just then, with a deep groaning and final cave-in, a portion of the burning ceiling collapsed and fell straight on top of the chandelier. The few burning fragments sparked and ignited the chandelier, creating a full-fledged blaze on the bank floor, which even encompassed the open case of money.
Still screaming and writhing helplessly, Alejandro lifted his head once more just in time to see his entire fortune burning away.
"The money…MY MONEY!"
He then gasped, his eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he passed out, just as the fire began burning on his clothing.
Hostman's eyes were wide in horror.
"Come on! We've got to get him out of here!"
"Same as last time?" Pythonicus asked as they began tossing away the debris.
"Yeah. Like I said, I'm prepared for the worst of medical emergencies from all of those dangerous shows. We'll get him there faster and treat him better than the hospital ever could!"
The first few responding officers burst in through the burning, crumbling façade, guns aimed.
"Freeze! Police!"
Other than an unconscious, purple-haired teen on the floor by the counter, there was not a single soul in sight.
…
Back in the Host-Cave, Hostman and Pythonicus were working furiously, though both now wore surgical masks instead of their regular masks, along with rubber gloves and aprons as they hurriedly worked on Alejandro.
"Morphine, now!"
"Antiseptic! LOTS of it!"
"I'm working on it, I'm working on it!"
"This is definitely broken…"
"That's gotta be a fourth-degree burn at the least!"
"Looks like there's only one thing we can do…"
Pythonicus turned to Hostman and gasped. "You don't mean…?"
About 20 minutes later, the charred, ruined body of Alejandro was placed inside the metal framework, the tubular arms carefully lined up with his broken, twisted, burned arms.
"Where's the mask?"
"Right here…"
"Alright." Hostman slowly closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Do it."
Pythonicus typed away at the control console, retracting most of the other mechanical arms and other medical devices that surrounded the operating table. One single arm slowly lowered over Alejandro's burnt face, holding what was to become his new face.
The mask was slowly placed over the rear faceplate, locking the two halves together to form the robotic head.
Then a slow, wheezy, mechanical breathing began.
"Alejandro?" Hostman asked nervously. "Can you hear me?"
A long pause. Then the deep voice.
"Is there anybody out there?"
"Is there anybody in there should be the question." Hostman responded.
"Ho…Hostman. What happened? Where am I?"
"You're safe. You had a bit of an…unfortunate accident."
"The money…that was gonna go to charity…"
The operating table slowly began to lift up, propping the machine into an upright position.
"Yeah…some crazy crook tried to take it from you…"
"But…they didn't succeed, did they?" The head slowly turned towards Hostman.
"No, they didn't succeed…because an explosion set off a fire that…uh…burned it all up."
"I…I knew it…It can't be!"
"And in addition to that, they dropped a chandelier onto you. Crushed you pretty good for starters, but then even more fell onto you when the ceiling caved in. And then the fire started. You pretty crushed and burned. Most of your original body is broken beyond repair, so we've put you inside this state-of-the-art mechanical suit…"
The head slowly lowered as it raised one of its robotic claws, pinching it twice.
"This…this is my new body?"
"Yeah…"
Pythonicus slowly backed away.
"My old body…is gone?"
"Not gone…just ruined and contained inside the new one."
"I'll…never be able to see with my own eyes? Walk with my own feet? Hold another's hand with my own?"
"Well…on the plus side, you do get great gas mileage."
The small needle over the mouth area slowly began ticking up towards the red zone.
"No…NO…"
Hostman and Pythonicus gasped.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
The machine then began wheeling around wildly, swinging and smashing various equipment and upsetting trays of surgical tools.
It eventually spun around towards Hostman and Pythonicus.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
It then aimed its head straight up, and smoke began emitting from directly underneath the robot.
Both men gasped again.
Then, in a sudden and unexpected burst of fire, the machine shot straight up into the air, rocketed through the ceiling, and flew off into the night's sky, soaring away like a shooting star or haywire comet.
"Did…did you install those rocket boosters underneath it?" Hostman asked nervously.
Pythonicus merely shook his head, eyes still wide in fear.
Hostman slowly stared back up at the gaping hole in the ceiling, leading out into the endless night, where their newest adversary had just disappeared to return again one day.
Author's Note: Yep. After playing a supporting role in most of the past episodes, Alejandro, AKA Darth Mauled, is now finally a main villain, and will play a significant role in the series later on.
Next time: A redneck villain gets more than he bargained for on a heist, and winds up with a heart of steel.