"This is it," Quinn said. "The Quigly Field Scoreboard."

"Damn, that thang is fugly," Shnag'r remarked. Quinn snickered. "So where's the door?"

"It might be at the top of that ladder there," Quinn deadpanned. The smaller Rat behind him growled something insulting and leapt onto the ladder, just beside the bleacher, and started to propel himself upwards.

"Aren't you supposed to go one rung at a time?" Quinn asked. Shnag'r snorted.

"That's for wussies," he declared. He reached the top of the ladder, nearly fifty feet above the ground, and gulped. "Damn, this is way far up..."

He banged his fist against the door, yelling "Yo! Pizza delivery!"

After a moment, the door opened, revealing a white Mouse who looked very displeased.

"We didn't order pizza," he said. Shnag'r blinked.

"You didn't?"

"We wanna talk," Quinn called up. The mouse stared down at him, then shook his head and went back inside, leaving the door open.

"We sposed to go in?" Shnag'r wondered out loud.

After a minute, the white mouse came back with another one, taller and tan-colored.

"What did you wanna talk about?" the tan mouse asked. Shnag'r shrugged.

"Well, y'see.."

~_~

"He what?" Throttle said confusedly.

"Oh, come on. No blood, no nuthin' not even hair." Shnag'r threw his hands up in the air. "His lies are tissue paper for someone who's got at least the smarts of a rock."

"Hey..." Vinnie growled.

"Not to insinuate that your friend and leader isn't smart enough to be in his position," the biege-furred Rat said quickly. "It's just that it's kinda a flimsy lie, if'n you think about it."

"Hmm." Throttle rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"Are you seriously gonna believe these guys?!" Vinnie asked sharply. "I mean, come on! They're Rats!"

Quinn stiffened slightly. God, he hated it when Mice made a issue of his race.

"Rats who saw your comrade, alive and.. not exactly well, but alive." Shnag'r puffed up. "If you want more evidence, our bikes have tape recorders. I'll letcha extract the video from my bike."

"Fine." Throttle motioned to Vinnie. "Call Charley-girl and ask her to come over, okay? Don't tell her what's going on, just say that we have a problem and we need her over here fast as she can."

"Got it." Vinnie flipped open his cellphone a la Captain Kirk-style and speed-dialed the mechanic.

~***~

Gamut paced in a tight circle, his tail twitching madly with agitation. Occasionally he'd gently stroke the bandage on his right arm, and grunt whenever he flexed the muscles of his upper right arm.

They'd taken Modo a hour earlier, just as the young mouse was finally releasing the built-up fear from the last 24 hours. He'd talked casually, about his bros and the human mechanic, Charlene. Gamut had been hard-pressed not to wrap his son in a bear-hug- god, he was so damn proud of his boy...

There was a clang-clang as the door to the cell opened. It wasn't Greasepit this time; they needed the empty-headed grease-gusher down with the Doctor, to help control Modo. Or so Gamut had overheard.

The goon made a motion, and Gamut followed him, seeing no purpose in trying to disobey someone who was packing a black-and-red ZZ-34-A Excelsior Flame-Spittoon. Those things stung.

They headed up a flight of stairs, going past at least three floors before heading down a long, brick-walled hallway, filled with the smell of chlorine. Finally they reached a door, where the goon placed his hand against it. After a moment, the door hummed and then swung open. Gamut's jaw dropped open.

Modo was strapped against the wall, his eye rolled so far up into his head that you could only see a sliver of white. The black box had cables trailing from it to a large computer console currently being attended to by the Doctor. Limburger stood to the side, in front of Greasepit, with a smile on his fat visage.

"Wonderful, isn't it? The Doctor is almost akin to me in his genius sometimes."

"What...?" Gamut stared at him, eyes narrowed in confusion.

"Mind control, my perilous parent, mind control! You see, I once tried to use one of the Biker Mice against the other two, but unfortunately the female mechanic managed to get through to the worthless wombat and destroy my plans completely. So, I have formed a truly terrifying plot." Limburger nodded towards the Doctor, and the small scientist slammed a switch sideways.

Modo inhaled, his eye opening sharply. He raised his metal arm, the laser barrel activated, and he shot a hole that nearly grazed Gamut's antenna and burned a hole in the wall behind him.

"Through control of the forebrain and hormones, I have ensured that no lurking trust or friendship-" Limburger shuddered at the terms "-will disrupt my devious deviations."

Gamut blinked, his mind just catching up with the full implications of what Limburger had just did. "You're using his mind..."

"Yes, how astute of you." Limburger snorted.

His MIND, Gamut realized. The one.. sacred place.. The grey mouse's fists curled. The one private place, where only one who's been granted permission can enter.

"You filthy, rotten, stinking piece of shit," Gamut growled. "You dare violate him like that?"

"Hmmm?" Limburger looked up from the console. "Oh, come now. Don't get all 'dedicts' or whatever on me."

"YOU SICK SON OF A BITCH!" Gamut roared, pouncing on the Plutarkian. "I'm going to make you- urgh!"

Gamut grunted and cried out when Greasepit gripped his calves and then threw him against a wall, hard enough to bruise the mouse's ribs.

"Get him!" Limburger shouted furiously. "Oh, I'll never get that mouse smell out of my suit!"

"C'mere, mousey," Greasepit growled. "Let's make this short n' sweet."

"Fuck you," Gamut hissed.

Wrong thing to say.

Greasepit slammed a fist straight into the middle of Gamut's chest, thoroughly knocking the wind out of the mouse. Once he was down, it was easy to kick him several times in the head and stomach, and then pick him up by his neck and slam his head against the wall- once- twice, dear God, three times- and then Gamut saw a opening through his rapidly-swelling-shut left eye and took it. He slid on a patch of his assailant's namesake and then darted towards the window.

Wait! Why am I going towards the- oh SHIT!

Too late to stop, Gamut crashed into the window, breaking it and then falling.

And screaming.

Exactly like a little girl.

Before he landed, quite harshly, into a dumpster.

"Ow," Gamut muttered softly. "Ow."

~****~

Whoo! He escapes, with his life (but not nessecarily his dignity!).

What happens to Modo now? .. honestly I don't have a clue. Ideas, concrit- hell, reviews in general, even flames, are very welcome. (oh, and BTW, this chapter was partially inspired by Chapter 26 of inuficcrzy's The First series. Go read it. Seriously. :D)