Small Victories, Big Results
Moving on. I'll write two chapters since I was gone for so long.
xxx
The Mad Doctor grasped at his stomach, flailing about in hearty, maniacal laughter. It was too much. He can barely stand it. IT'S ALL TOO EASY! Oswald is quite literally and figuratively - might as well be literally - eating out of the palm of The Mad Doctor's animatronic hand. Yes, yes, everyone else in Wasteland is coming near him with a ten foot pole and extending it when he tries to approach. That's the reaction he anticipated on his initial decision to emerge from his obscurity. What he also anticipated, practically wrote the script for, was Oswald opening his nonexistent heart to him and re-welcoming The Mad Doctor with open arms back into Wasteland Society. And why shouldn't he? After all~ Oswald's learning to forgive and forget. "HA-HA-HA! HOO-HOO-HOO!" To think...after what The Mad Doctor has wrought upon Wasteland - The Blot's first arrival and his reincarnation, The Terror Box, stealing hearts - Oswald would so generously agreed to welcome him back, and help him find a way to put an end the quakes tearing the land apart. Oh yes, and the Blotworx monstrosities running amuck. If Oswald only knew where they came from.
It was so delicious. The Mad Doctor was sure he was developing his tenth cavity. Not only is Oswald on board fully, he's roped his closest allies into the mix. Just as it was intended. Naturally with The Mad Doctor's reappearance someone from Wasteland would call for Mickey, and then he would send for Cecelia. Both are such goodie-goodies they'd never let something like Cecelia's magic being stolen stop them. Their friends were in danger. They have to save them. "The morality of heroes is enough to make me vomit. If I had an actual stomach."
The Mad Doctor pressed a red button on his control panel. Dozens upon dozens of monitors with images stretching from the pits of Ventureland to the highest peak of the collapsing Mickeyjunk Mountain blanketed a wall. A squirrel wasn't able to break wind without The Mad Doctor seeing it. He went to great lengths to program the cameras to cut whenever woodland creatures invaded his shots. Their gastrol habits are not remotely on his list of concerns. Right now he needed to ensure that all was going according to plan. The monitors for OsTown were coming in nice and clear. Bringing a smile to his face was Goofy looking after the Gag Factory. He slyly trailed his gaze to Ventureland, spying his favorite purple gremlin bribing Pete Pan to let him enter the construction site. The little gremlin doesn't want his precious kitten to know what he's been up to. He won't fail The Doctor. Speaking of the kitten, she and her little friends were boarding the train to come to his lab. He should get ready. He desperately needs their help. Why...if they come and don't see him...they might fear THE WORST.
"The worst has yet to come, Little Heroes." He grasped at a handful of thread off to the side. Marionette dolls dressed as jesters of Mickey, Oswald, and Cecelia dangled before him. Poetic really. That's exactly what they've become the moment Mickey answered Gus and Ortensia's distress call, and when Cecelia kindled under her desire to aid those who saved her from herself. Oswald the ribbon binding them together. And like all binding ties, like all things really, that strap will wither and weaken and eventually snap. Cecelia is already drifting from Oswald, put off by his strong wish to help The Doctor. Another push and she will abandon him. Then Mickey will drift away, and Gus, then Ortensia, and Oswald will be alone. Like these little dolls, this trio of heroes will continue to move as he wishes. And once he is finished with them, he will toss them to the fire where they will turn to ash before his eyes.
The Mad Doctor twirled the dolls by their strings, sending them hurtling into a pit, plunging deep into the lava pool. A blaze devoured them, and soon they were swallowed. Turned to bricks that will never surface. "Step by step, my friends. Step by step."
xxx
Quaking rides like the train are one of many reason why people are thankful that seat belts were invented. Oswald, Mickey, Gus, and Cecelia wished more than two were provided. Being strapped to seats bigger than themselves sort of stole from the safe feeling. The tracks were rickety, old, teeming with neglect from the years of being drowned by thinner. The train was in a similar state, if not worse. The steam feeding through the veins, pumped vigorously by the coals being shoveled into the engine. The spheres in the caboose could only do so much for the old rig. The chugging wheels rampaging on the corroded rails at mach 2 speeds an hour. Gus was unnerved by the despicable state of this train. His team should have seen to this method of transport the moment the thinner released it. For the first mile refurbishings were evident. That was months ago. The rest was left unattended. Oswald was lying casually to his side, head propped by a hand and elbow. Cecelia and Mickey clawed desperately at the seats on the terrifyingly prolonged turns. The train practically tilted, close to flying off and sending them into the abyss where none would ever find them. An ingenious plan by The Mad Doctor that they willfully walked into.
"We should be arriving soon." Gus reassured his friends. Mickey and Cecelia were starting to turn a little green. "Try to hang in there."
Mickey will try. Maybe lying down like Oswald would help him. Cecelia distracted herself by fiddling with her com-pin. Running her thumb lovingly across the feline insignia. A sardonic joke Prescott made to sort of tease her about her transformation. She was flattered though. The pin was cute, and Prescott's often told her she was too. The memories of their first couple of dates filled her heart with butterflies. Her stomach was tickled recalling the first time Prescott ever kissed her. That kiss brought her back from the dead. A bit grim, but straight from a fairytale.
"Tomorrow…"
"What's that?" Gus caught Cecelia's whisper.
She hadn't realized she spoke out loud. She blushed noticing she was kissing her pin. "Tomorrow is our anniversary. Mine and Prescott's." She sheepishly stoked hairs behind her ear. Oswald glanced from the corner of his eye, brow knitting. Mickey and Gus beamed with congratulations, hands clapped that such a wonderous occasion would come. "We haven't planned anything, given what's happening. But once things calm down we'll probably think of something."
"Well cheers nonetheless, darling." Gus hugged her warmly. He ran a hand up and down her back. "May you both have happier years to come."
"Thanks, Gus!" She giggled giddily. Mickey's head over heels for Minnie himself. He gave her two thumbs up, guaranteeing that Cecelia won't be disappointed by those years. Cecelia sprouted wings and was fluttering to cloud nine. This quake and The Mad Doctor have served in reuniting Prescott and Cecelia, spiriting them across the gap they created. This is a sign that they are meant to rekindle. She wants to. A perturbed mumble under the breath wrinkled her brow. "Don't keep us in suspense, OZ! What's got you so hot under the collar?!" She hissed. Mickey and Gus were baffled by the 180 shift.
"As you wish!" Oswald huffed at the provocation, darting straight up with a defiant glare which he wasn't shy about locking to her. Cecelia folded her legs and her arms, a glow shimmering in her ruby orbs, daring him to speak what's on his mind. Though she knows that song. "You want to say my judgment is clouded by a past relationship! Yours is clouded by a current one!" Cecelia brow knit with a draping shadow.
Mickey and Gus pondered if the air was growing thick. It was hard to breathe. Lumps were forming in their throats and swelling. Glancing between the two, they saw there was a heated friction emanating from them. What happened on the Angel side? "Pardon me, friends." Gus inserted himself. He purposefully went in the middle, discarding the twitching hands from flinging magic or electricity. "What precisely are you both talking about?"
"Our dear Oswald here wants me to turn my sights onto Prescott instead of The Doctor!" She snapped venomously. "He thinks Prescott stole my magic because he had my book! And tore a page out of it!" All of which was absolutely ridiculous, by her the tone in her voice. Mickey and Gus gasped appalled, gawking utterly revolted at Oswald. He was accusing her closest friend and love.
Oswald won't have the floor crumble under him with her going with him. "I just find it odd, Cecelia! You want to accuse the man miles away instead of the one two feet away!" In spite of the complete vulgarity of the circumstance, a piece of Gus and Mickey had to agree with Oswald. They kept it to themselves, but they feared Cecelia could see it in their faces. As Gus has been there, he can testify to every fact that Prescott's been acting strange the past few months. Learning of his and Cecelia's fight revealed the mystery. But there was...something off when they went to visit him before heading to The Falls. Like he was hiding something. And he was pale when Cecelia kept getting closer.
"I'm sorry. I must have misheard you!" Cecelia curtly raised a hand. "Because it sounds like you're passing the blame to Prescott! The one Gremlin you trusted to solve your projector problem a year ago!" The same Gremlin he should be looking to now instead of condemning. "Tell me, Oswald, are you so determined to save your friend that you'll throw others under the bus?"
"Now look who's passing blame!" Oswald sneered. "You aren't exactly hiding you want to save Prescott!"
"Especially when the real culprit just called us from the Gulch!" She decreed in stone.
"A culprit who hasn't been anywhere near your book in the past year!"
"You don't know that! You don't hang out with Prescott!"
"Oh look! I think you just admitted Prescott does things in secret!"
"HOW CAN YOU KEEP STANDING HERE DEFENDING HIM?!" She roared with her feline fangs extended. Lightning surged between her horn sharp ears. The circuitry of the train faltered under her, paralyzing Mickey and Gus in their places. "After everything he's done to you, Ortensia-"
"Don't bring her into this!" Oswald lunged from his seat. The train trembled under his stomping feet. "Don't you dare bring her into this!"
"She's part of this! She was turned to stone, kidnapped, almost killed - and all because of the guy we're taking time to rescue from...whatever!"
"Mickey almost caused massive casualties too! And I forgave him!" Gus comforted the heavily weeping mouse, patting him on the back. He hasn't quite forgiven himself. He cried waterfalls, blowing his nose like a trombone.
"That was an accident and Mickey isn't evil! He's more than paid for what he's done!
"Why shouldn't The Doc be given the same chance?" She made Oswald's point. "Ortensia agrees with me there."
Cecelia slipped off the seat, matching him glare for glare. "You know very well she agrees with me too! But because she loves you she's going along with this!" She swept a hand at the train. If Ortensia had spoken her mind none of them would be on this train ride to Hell.
"So are you!"
"Because I trust you, Oswald! But I never said I'd do anything for that monster!" Both Oswald and The Doc are lucky Cecelia's magic is confined somewhere. The meteors she is capable of bringing down on their heads would shatter Wasteland. Maybe she won't go that far.
"Don't call him that!"
"Why not?! He is!"
"Pretty hypocritical for one monster to call another a monster!" Oswald quickly threw his hands over his mouth. Cecelia went blank, paling to grey stone. Gus and Mickey dropped their jaws, their veins pumping with appalled adrenaline. Her head slowly fell. Her bangs shadowed her abject hatred for the rabbit. "I didn't mean that!" He shakily recovered, trembling head to toe. Cecelia's void eyes darkened, her bangs obscuring the hurt glossing them. "Cecelia! I really didn't mean it!"
"I think you did." She rasped. And it made her laugh. Curious. Why was she laughing? How was any of this funny? "I live with my sins, Oswald. I wear them on my sleeve for everyone to see! I don't hide them with songs and smiles." Very poor songs by a man with too thick an accent. "Nothing we do can ever erase what we've done. But that doesn't give outsiders like you the right to throw it in our faces!"
"Cecelia…" He reached out.
"Don't!" Her slapping his hand popped a furious shock. He blew on the smoke, sucking on the throbbing palm. "I have to wonder, Oswald," He was scared to the seats, leaning back on his hands. Her blank expression carried the air of a demon, "Am I worthy of your forgiveness? Your trust? A second chance? Because if not," Her hand at the seat, Oswald felt ice snake down his spine. The red of her eyes melting him from the inside, "Who's the hypocrite now?" She purred darkly. Oswald gasped horrified at his own words smacking him upside the head. His knees knocked together.
The train reaching its destination was divine intervention. Mickey and Gus practically trampled on one another to escape. Cecelia turned on her heels, letting her leer linger on the frozen Oswald as she exited. He released a breath, holding onto the seat for dear life so he wouldn't collapse. "Man...she's scary." While he's sorry he hurt her feelings, he doesn't regret what he's said. He disembarked the train with his head high, but his spirit low.
As still the designated newcomers to Wasteland, Mickey and Cecelia continued to be shocked that any region of Wasteland can catch them off guard. Lo and Behold their jaws were falling farther than that abyss covered in fog below them. Wonder and awe filled their sparkling eyes, and noteable discontent at the mess before them. Mickey and Cecelia know that Mickeyjunk Mountain is the main region of all Wasteland where forgotten junk creates a land of the lost and found. And by a pure miracle shape platforms and pathways for people to traverse. This mountainous region on the outskirts of the gulch was, in a way, constructed with a bit more tact. A massive hat resembling the Mad Haberdasher's sign coasted back and forth to ledges, and from there was a path of strategically placed junk making a bigger, scaling up a cliff side. A few beetleworx contraptions acted as elevators. One that looked like The Doc's old dome machine was climbing up and down the cliff side, another like a helicopter lift was hovering from one platform to the next, and there was a third blowing gusts of wind. It was a glorified fan.
"Brilliant!" Gus cheered, slamming a fist to his palm. He chuckled triumphantly. Mickey and Cecelia missed where this monstrosity caused celebration. Gus would spare his team for the train tracks. The bridge is a pleasant sight. "The bridge is working again! What a marvelous piece of technology!" He swooned.
"And you expect us to cross this marvel of technology?" Cecelia scoffed skeptically. "Somehow I feel safer walking on a trapeze above a pit of Blotlings."
Mickey laughed nervously, twitching his cheek in silent agreement. "Maybe there's another way to reach The Mad Doctor." He optimistically proposed. Oswald and Gus pondered his suggestion. Cecelia and Mickey left them to debate amongst themselves. No one knows Wasteland better. Cecelia sat to a banded bunch of wires, hugging her knees to her chest. She solemnly hid half her face behind her knees. Her dim eyes stretching into space. "H-Hey? Cecelia…?" Mickey approached, standing away in case she hadn't quite calmed down. "You okay?"
Cecelia scoffed at his concern, finding herself not in the mood for pity. "Am I okay? I really do hate that question." She's not okay. She's never really OKAY. She just goes about her life, day by day, grind by grind, with minor humors and troubles greeting her. Oswald's stab at her previous crimes and her habitual blazing tantrums reminded her of the thin wire she walks on. That trapeze sounded like a pleasant jaunt. "So, do you agree with him? Does a monster like me have room to judge?" She asked with her dark smile.
"But you're not." Mickey moaned, kneeling to her. "Cecelia, you aren't a monster."
"Whatever…" She doesn't care what he thinks. These are words friends spout to friends in order to pacify them for a time. They are empty. "Let's just reach The Doc and go home." She rose to her feet, storming to the brainstorming duo. "Tell me that bridge - and I use the term loosely - isn't the only way there." She demanded. That train ride was enough for her.
"The Doc never has just one door." Oswald elucidated. "And I can't see him making this trek without one of his machines."
"Then he must have a secret entrance we can use." Gus voiced what everyone was thinking. He pointed to the bound group of wires Cecelia was sitting on. "And I think those might be the key to finding such a door." Mickey and Cecelia arched a bewildered brow. Now that their attention is drawn to it, those wires did seem out of place. Ironic considering nothing really had a place around there. Clamps heavily nailed the gathered wires to the bedrock. The rubber insulation shielding the wires were abnormally thick. Someone doesn't want them disturbed. They might be the power behind this so called bridge. With how in shape they are, they're being seen to on a regular basis. "Oswald, what does your remote say?"
Oswald hovered his remote above the wires. He was taken aback by an intense heat brushing his fur, but twisted the knob to focus the remote emitting energy. The bulb on the antenna strobed brightly, resonating with with the energy pumping through those electrical veins. Veins spiked on the remote's screen, fiercely squealing as it fought to sustain the power emitting from the wires. "Yep! These cords are powering something and they're still running hot."
"Hey!" Mickey had followed the cords to wall they connected to. He ran his hands over the cricket figure face bolted to the cliff's rock wall. Vibrations were coming from it. "I think what these cords are powering is behind here!" He knocked on the giant mask, receiving the same thick rebound. A hollow echo startled him. He tested the spots again, jostling lose panels in their slot. "This is a door! What's behind it?"
"Our way into the Doc's lair, I hope." Oswald stated. "Let's follow these wires and see where they go." He proposed. Mickey went with the rabbit, both locked on the wires.
Cecelia huffed angrily, grudgingly led by Gus to aide in the search. That smooth smile of his makes him impossible and too irritating to resist. Must be his elderly charm. "Hm?" A shadow past Cecelia. She looked down, squinting at a sphere spanning from Gus's shadow. She shot her head up, gasping in dismay. "LOOK OUT!" She tackled Gus seconds before a tire crash landed with a piercing screech. Mickey and Oswald mustered their weapons, heads reeling at the sputtering jalopy of a vehicle balancing on the elongated leg. The car whisked around on that wheel. The two front wheels stretched into buff arms, both with RPG barrels ready to fire. It flexed and posed, displaying it threatening presence. Spits of fire whistled from the dual exhaust pipes. A searing red light hidden behind the grill blazed in tandem to its desire for chaos. "Is that a beetleworx or a blotworx?"
"Whatever it is, it's coming back for more!" Gus warned. The car revved its engine to the fullest, the tire fervently burning rubber. Kicking up a screen of dirt digging a deep gash in the solid rock.
Cecelia drew her book, fluttering the pages open. The car charged a high speeds. Cecelia blinked it was upon her, drawing one of its arms all the way back. "PROTEGO MAXIMA!" She roared virulently. A glow emanated from her eyes. The car's thrown punch was violently repelled, sending it flying several yards away. The backlash being Cecelia was driven back. Her feet left drag marks. Her spells aren't complete, but they are effective enough. "Find us a way in! I'll deal with this thing!" She proclaimed to the gawking mouse and rabbit.
"We're on it!" Oswald followed the wires. No time for guess work. They have to lead to behind the panel Mickey found. The wires dove off the edge of the cliff. Oswald threw himself to the wooden railing, searching for where the wires cut off. "MICKEY! DOWN THERE!" Mickey lurched over the railing. Platforms protruding from the cliffside descended to a ledge barely peeking from the rock. "That has to be it!"
"Then let's go!" Mickey jumped the railing, landing to a crouch on the first large step. Oswald floated down on his propelling ears, remote ready for the quick escape they need.
xxx
Gus stayed with Cecelia, offering more moral support than offensive. He's quick with a wrench, though not quick enough to deal with a high powered beetleworx. Or Blotworx. Cecelia stalked in circles in a daring dance with the machine. The pages of her book flipped of their own volition, golden dust gusting from the aging pages. Her ruby orbs hardened as the machine revved like a growling animal, challenging the young kitten to strike so it may run her down. BEEP! BEEP! It blared its horn. The tire arms flared and raised to the air. Three rocket projectiles launched in an arch from each, centering their crosshairs upon the feline and her gremlin friend. Cecelia flipped backed onto her palms, fluttering her legs. Narrowly had she dodged the missiles. Hot breaths of the controlled explosions wafting up her skirt to her tail. Stilling facing it she cast her hands backwards. Gus threw up his wrench, shaking meekly as the missiles neared him. A shield repelled the missiles over the edge. He wiped away sweat in relief. Mickey and Oswald reached the mystery machine powering the cords when the missiles shrieked past them. They gawked and exchanged stares, scared of what's happening upstairs.
"You okay, Gus?!" Cecelia stretched a fist sideways, a shimmering blue sphere encasing it.
"Better thanks to you! Are you sure your magic is gone?" He teased her. This reminds him of when she first demonstrated her prowess. Cecelia had to laugh at his meek joke. That's what she loves about Gus. He sees the bright side of things, and he brings smiles to those around him.
The car beeped angrily, hammering its arms on its hood. It drew its arms back. Fire and smog gathering in the barrels for a disastrous attack. Cecelia cast her balled hand to broken debris. The same shimmer lifted them from the ground. The car fired six projectiles all for her. Cecelia swung her arm forth, throwing wood, metal, rock, and some form of plastic in their path. Debris and missile erupted into dank, grey clouds of fire and shrapnel. Cecelia threw up another shield, saving her and Gus from the ribbon tattering darts. The smoke was whisked by the wind and encompassed the two, obscuring the machine and the outside from Gus and Cecelia. The two moved close together, Gus staying at her back. The car taunted with cackling sputters and drawn out whirrs. One second it would be in front, the next behind, and then on both sides. It taunted them like a predator in the bushes. Raising their little hearts to the maximum rate, sending the adrenaline pumping in the veins to their wobbling knees. They can't trust their ears, their eyes, none of the sense they've come to depend on. Gus drew a second wrench, digging in his feet in anticipation. Cecelia balled and loosened her fingers, cracking the knuckles. Her ears flexed, trying to center on the engine. A rocket broke the smoke, breezing over their heads, scaring them out of their skin. A second came from the opposite direction, jerking them to the left. One sent them to the right. On actually came from the very ground. It was toying with them.
Cecelia flipped her book's pages, stopping an a spell. Her finger on the page she siphoned the magic from within. Ribbons resembling binary coding - scriptures of numbers - arose. Snaking up her arm to her shoulder. She cradled it like a babe. She let the car have its fun. Allowed it to dance like the monkey it is. Then she heard the intakes of air and saw the rockets break the smoke again. She cracked the coding like a whip, slapping one rocket after the other with a scripture. Four out of six were touched. The other two narrowly missed her and Gus by inches. The four escaped the smoke, going to who knows where. "Redeo ad tua opificem!" (Return to your maker) The scripture at her arm flared. The four missiles perform an about face. The car retreated at the smoke was beginning to clear, then paused at the shrill sounds of rockets. It looked on in terror as its own arsenal came roaring back. It whimpered, then held up a sign, Should have been a used car salesman. The car was incinerated, nothing left but a pockmark and some smoke.
"Nicely done, dear." Gus pat her on the back.
"Thank you!" She beamed with flushed cheeks.
xxx
The steps lead to a section of rock crafted out of toon. A swiggling gap was thinned away. A plethora of beeps and vibrating hums perforated the bedrock. Oswald stood on Mickey's shoulders, grasping at the hole to see what lurked within. An industrial grade generator was hidden inside the crevice, pumping thousands of watts a second through those tightly bound cords leading to a dead wall. Oswald nodded with a thumbs up, jumping down. He and Mickey saw the redirected missiles gun in an automatic U-Turn back for Gus and Cecelia. "We have to hurry! They're in trouble!"
Mickey thinned the wall away, freeing the generator from its clever hiding place. If that isn't powering anything, Mickey and Cecelia are going to be reliving their Mickeyjunk Mountain escapade. Though it would still be preferable to meeting up with The Mad Doctor. An access port at the front was ice cold from prolonged inactivity. Power was feeding into the cords, but in reality it wasn't going anywhere. Mickey analyzed the port, finding limit differences in this version from the one at the DEC. "Think you can activate this one?"
"Only one way to find out!" Oswald hit the button. A current struck the port, bringing all three power bulbs to life on the crown. The generator reinvigorated with new-found energy, circuits firing on every cylinder within its me library grade body. Rapid quads of electrical pulses caressed the bound cords.
xxx
Gus saw the pulsating energy scrolling the cords. He gaped in dismay as Cecelia was about to sit on them to rest. He dove fast and swooped her up by the underarms. She yelped at the static snaking her tail. She thanked Gus with a relieved pat to his hand. That's a shock she doesn't need. The pulses seeped into the power source obscured by the metallic wall. The eyes and tongue of the giant mask lit up, and in one grandstanding motion, the goofily gaped smiling mouth parted like a door. A thick, elastic tongue rolled out like the red carpet, practically welcoming them inside. Gus and Cecelia grinned at the projector hidden inside.
"Well what do you know! There IS a secret entrance to The Mad Doctor's lab!" Gus marveled at the discovery. He must jot this down in his journal. Cecelia groaned irritably. He sounded as if he wasn't expecting there to be a door. "What? Scientists aren't known to make the same mistakes twice. And The Mad Doctor exhausted his free secret passages limit."
"There's a limit for that?"
He was hoping she'd ask that. A drumroll came out of nowhere, and suddenly the lights went down. A spotlight canvassed the showpony suspense, bringing the light onto a top hat wearing Gus at the chime of a symbol. "Club Secret Doors, as financed by the Grimoire Gremlins!" Gus reached into his breast pocket and showed her a flamboyant maroon and gold membership card. Little leaflets decorating the sides, and center images of Gus, Markus, and Sparks. Sunglasses, tuxes, and golden teeth. "A guaranteed moveable secret or your money back. Not eligible in most parts of Tomorrow City."
"Ooh~ fancy!" She sparkled.
Mickey and Oswald rushed back to the too, stunned to find all was tranquil. And Gus and Cecelia were right as rain. Sometimes they forget that Cecelia and Gus can handle themselves. When exactly did they start losing faith in their friends. "Anything good happen?" Oswald joked partially.
"Better than good!" Cecelia chimed. Her hyperactive finger pointed at the projector. "There IS a backdoor!" Yensid has a tricky mirror, a main entrance, and then the backdoor. But he doesn't have a secret door! Cecelia's inner child couldn't help gushing over it. She's always wanted to roam through secret entrances.
"Was there ever a doubt?" Oswald winked. Cecelia pursed her lips guiltily. "AW! CECELIA!" He whined, large tears dangling and clanking together. That's heartbreaking. She shrugged her hands, laughing nervously. What can she say? The day's been filled with doubts. "But what do you say, Gus? Will this really get us there?"
"I am one hundred percent confident!" He swung a fist.
Cecelia flashed the membership card. "That's the slogan on the back of this. Very trusting." She bounced her brow impishly. Gus snatched the card back, shoving it into his pocket. Cecelia giggled adorably at his flustered face. "Well, we have an appointment. Shall we?" She was the first to leap forth into the Old Mill Projector. Gus pushed his horns forward, titling an imaginary hat at the challenge, and leaped in after her. Mickey and Oswald shrugged, plugged their noses, and cannonballed in.
xxx
DO NOT ENTER was posted in big, bold red letters across a particular section of Ventureland. Tall planks held by wads of super glue and buried several feet in the dirt barred that section in a fence. Their incredible height and the thickness of the wood hoped to discourage the curious. The pirates who roamed couldn't resist their childish inclinations and would often try to pillage the wall to see what all the ruckus was about. Anyone who has actually made it to the top wasn't able to see much before being sucker punched by a bungee boxing glove laced with lead. Going under the wall wasn't an option either. The fence was cleverly constructed a mere hair above the homes of some very unfriendly mole rats. The loud noises drove the residents mad with suspense and intrigue, sending their imaginations running rampant to the impossible. How disappointed they would be learning all the sounds they heard, the kick up of dust wafting higher than the fence, was all show. A radio for the sounds, large fans for the dust, and a cat or two for the crashes. A rouse for Prescott to complete his real work several projectors away.
Far within Ventureland, nestled within regions long forgotten since the thinner disaster, Prescott worked tirelessly on the projects The Mad Doctor commanded he touch up in his stead. Not even The Mad Doctor can mislead Oswald and Company and work on his machinations of terror simultaneously. Perhaps the one saving grace of this out of the way work is that Prescott won't have to bear to watch Cecelia slip into his clutches. To see the betrayal that will fill her heart and shatter it will shatter him. Cecelia…
Thoughts on her adversely affected his work. He was missing simple steps, miscalculating measurements - amateurish errors he wouldn't normally make. It can also be attributed to lack of sleep. Prescott made amazing headway with his and The Mad Doctor's little side project. He can stand to pry himself from it for a while. Or for the rest of time, as working on anything for The Mad Doctor ate at him like a ravenous beast. That madman already commissioned him to build a TV to the cartoon world before Ortensia and Gus constructed theirs. Were it not under duress of losing Cecelia sooner than later he'd have abandoned these inane tasks long ago. Instead he would postpone them and move on to his own project within Blot Alley past the Floatyard. It is there his true work awaits...where he hides what Cecelia seeks.
A little while longer...just a little while longer. Until Wasteland sees the true genius they shut away inside that insipid Gag Factory.
xxx
Those people who coined the phrase walking into a wall of heat would be billionaires if they leaped from The Old Mill Projector into the blistering inferno Oswald and the others did. The Mill projector had pleasant winds and 360 degree fair weather the whole climb. It prompted the trio of animals to take a brief nap, as is the nature of the species they represent. Gus threatened to pour buckets of ice water on them if they so much as started to nod off. A kill joy if ever they met one. They pouted in protest, digging in their heels like children being told they had to leave an amusement park. Gus demonstrated his deceptive strength in pushing them along. He gave them swift kicks in the rump out the projection. He was devotedly apologetic after they exited the projector. He broke into a dead sweat when he left. The metallic corridor he entered reflected the smoldering heat that began baking him alive on contact. He was about to proceed after his friends when a sicken slosh came at his feet. He yelped in terror. The others were dying puddles. He pulled a hose from the wall and hosed them down. Their figures reinvigorated slumping at the wall. Whistling fountains spat from their mouths. Mickey had a fish in there somehow. The trio shook themselves dry and were able to leave their haze enough to growl at him.
"Heh-heh! Sorry…" He shrank, fiddling with his hands.
"Where the heck are we?" Mickey groaned, pushing on his knee to stand.
"I think this is the Mad Doc's lab." Oswald scratched his head. "I've only come in the front, but I'm sure this is the lower half of it." Gus went on to scour the road ahead. The large doors separating the projector were open, so there was no need to knock.
"Where is it? In a volcano?" Cecelia tugged unbearably at her collar. Thank goodness her only fur was on her ears and tail. She's going to melt again.
"Pretty close, I'd say!" Gus called from the other side. The others raced to the ledge he hovered from. If it was possible it got another ten degrees hotter by passing those doors. Searing fumes burrowed into their flesh. Oswald took his ears and wrung out a bucket of sweat. A flower sprouted instantly and withered almost as quickly. Gus directed their attention to a bubbling pit below.
The three bent forward. "Ho…" Oswald trailed off aghast.
"Lee…" Mickey couldn't believe his eyes.
"Chipmunks!" Cecelia finished. It wasn't a volcano, but that lava pit down there was just as uninviting.
"Look at this place!" Oswald reveled in the genius. A large washer shaped platform was floating aimlessly atop the lava, bobbing in the gelatinous brew. From way up there it looked safe enough. But let it be their true to form luck that they jump down and it burns them alive. Oswald and Gus scanned for another means of reaching The Mad Doctor without having to make that dive. Aside from the couple of platforms stretching to the left, there was no other way up. "The Mad Doc doesn't do anything small, does he?"
"No...I guess he doesn't." Mickey retorted uneasily. Anyone with this much time on their hands kind of makes him nervous. Mickey trailed his attention up, amazed by the smooth chasm of rock housing this intense inferno. Pipes imbedded to the wall were exhausting heavy amounts of steam into the air, adding to the sweltering humidity mixed with the dry heat. "So where is he anyway?" Heck if Oswald knew. He's only been to the lad a couple of times. There was a second level shaped like the floating ring. He had to squint to see through the roaring fumes, but he vaguely made out lab equipment from where he was. That was their ticket to The Mad Doctor.
"Gus? Oswald?" Mickey needn't ask. Oswald and Gus were ready when they were. Mickey and Cecelia reached for their hands, stepping on the very edge.
Suddenly a rumble vibrated the chasm. It bounced up and down, jostled loose from its moorings. "Hey! What's happening?!" Oswald's voice quaked.
Mickey and Cecelia paused, ice snaking their spines at the noise and they gulped looking down. The lava below was rippling irregularly. The bubbles disturbed by a rumbling scaling the walls. "This place really is a volcano!" Cecelia cried. "It's gonna blow!"
"That's not an eruption!" Gus panicked. "That's an-" The rumbling transformed into a violent torrent of shakes. The pit was rocked asunder like soda trapped in a can, begging for the top to be popped, "AFTERSHOCK!" Lava splashed to the walls, the cracks sprouting from inside the walls ravaged the bedrock. Mickey and Cecelia's feet slipped off the ledge. They plummeted for a head first dive into the pit. "WE'RE COMING!" Oswald and Gus dove. Mickey and Cecelia closed their eyes. Gus and Oswald came in hot from the sides, tackling their friends to the solid metal surface. Relief came at the narrow save, and the floating platform being cool enough to sit on.
"This place has too much excitement." Cecelia wheezed. "We need to move back to OsTown." Gus agreed. He's getting too old for this.
A low, reverberating rumble shook the cavern asunder once again. Right to the bone, Cecelia, Mickey, and Oswald felt the intensity. "NOT AGAIN!" Oswald whined.
"No! This isn't an aftershock!" Gus assured him, making it much worse. "What could it be?"
"LOOK OUT!" Cecelia spread her glowing hands. Massive, yet stunted, wings flapped their way from the lava. Large globs splatted to Cecelia's shield. She gaped in dismay as the shield faltered, trickles of lava leaking through. "Dammit!" She hissed. Too bad that wasn't the least of her worries.
A half thinned half painted animatronic replica of Pete the Dragon emerged from the lava. Stubby arms flailing wildly. His hands slammed to the platform, nearly shaking Oswald and the others off into the lava. He lurched himself forward, roaring heatedly at the rabble that entered his home. Searing red LED eye lights boring into his prey. He whipped his tail free from the pit. A twin sided buzzsaw at the tip he twisted and tore the cave wall. A minor collapse happened away from the heroes, even gave them a little elevation from the arena. Gus flew from the monster's sights, inspecting this new route.
"MY FRIENDS! UP HERE! QUICKLY!" The dragon's thrashing caused The Mad Doctor's lab to falter, inadvertently creating a spiraling exit for them to escape from. Mickey, Cecelia, and Oswald picked themselves up, scrambling into a sprint for Gus.
Rocks piled in the lava, leading up to a winding pathway into the belly of The Mad Doctor's lab. Oswald and the others weren't farther than 10 steps from the path. The dragon smashed his buzzsaw tail down at the foot of the slope. Mickey's heels screeched on the stop. Oswald and Cecelia collided into him, toppling over. The dragon was mocking the trio with a guttural chuckle. He jerked his tail, sending his buzzsaw tail into overdrive. The blades shrieked ear piercingly loud against the metal, sparks flying in every direction. Smooth gashes feasibly tore the metal like butter. He languidly moved it toward them. Mickey, Cecelia, and Oswald screamed, tripping over their own feet into a sprint. The dragon watched them amused. They were like ants running from a few drops of rain. Mickey's fit of panic clumsily fumbled his hands as he struggled to take up the brush. Blindly he launched globs of thinner for the tail. From base to tip he desperately tried to slow it down. Seldom did he land a direct hit, but the glancing grazes were enough to wound the creature. Large spots in it yellow speckled, and green paint job were evaporated, exposing the mechanisms hiding beneath the shawdy toon. The motor in its hind gradually lost power in fighting to sustain energy from the thinner splashes.
The slope was coming up. Oswald threw his ears in mach speed and took after Gus, securing a spot halfway up the slope. He and Gus leaned to the edge, pleading Mickey and Cecelia to hurry with extended hands. The dragon yanked his tail high, bringin it around. Cecelia slipped on her sudden stop, shoving Mickey back. He smashed the tail down to the other side of them, chasing them back in the opposite direction. The same result happened each time the slope remotely came within their reach. Mickey actually made it on only to be batted back into the arena. Running wasn't working. The dragon was going to keep needling them until they ran out of steam. And in this heat that was going to happen sooner than they thought.
Cecelia dug in her feet, squaring to the high speed blade. She flipped through her spellbook, coming to a spell for a frigid winter. She slapped a flat palm, ushering that sub zero spell to her palm. Scriptures traces her arms in ribbons, breathing with soft whispers of the frozen north. "Chilled body! Frozen soul! I call upon the winds that bid mountains take their toll!" She thrust her hand, nearly prying her arm from the joint. Were it her magic was returned a blizzard would have come from the bowels of this pit. Instead, what can only be described as a howling breeze was unleashed upon the encroaching tail. Ice, snow, and wind pelting the tail in rapid volleys. Cecelia shared the spell to her other hand, backing away as the yet to slow tail got closer. She aimed for the slits to the spinning gears, hoping to at least freeze them. Mickey stood by her, launching gallons of thinner for the tail itself. The tail was left completely naked and the tail was still running hot. He led the thinner to the lower body. It slid off the metal machinations like grease. He didn't give up. He can't. Not with their escape so close.
"COME ON! COME ON!" Cecelia screamed contemptuously at herself. Pathetic! This is pathetic! She doesn't need her full power! Things like this are chumps to her. So far...she was the chump. Her frigid wind was melting on contact with the shrilly whirling tail. Her breath was labored, her lungs on fire, and none of it coming from the heat. She might as well have been shooting bee-bee pellets at a tank. Her bullets were repelled, leaving not even a scratch on him. The icy winds gradually thinned, weakening to barely even strained huffs. And Mickey's thinner was running on empty. "No! Not now! Come on!" The strain to pour power she knows she no longer has was slowly and definitely taking everything she had. Her veins were throbbing agonizingly. The blood vessels in her eyes started to show. The ice inside the wind was melting the second it left her palm, falling short of their mark. She attempted to close the distance, but was constantly dragged by Mickey. The wind no longer a breeze but a dry heave. Her hands and arms were losing feeling fast. They wanted to remain erect. The weight of the numbing muscle to great to bear. "No...More...MORE!" She screamed. But she had no more. Her vision blurred and her head spun. The uneven panel she stepped upon robbed her feet from under her and she hit the ground with a thud.
"CECELIA!" Mickey cried. The dragon shook off the sloshing liquid. He loomed his saw tail torturously above her, cackling from his gut as aligned the whirling blades with her tiny body. Oswald set his remote to full power. Mickey twirled his brush, summoning every ounce of thinner. Both launched their streams, striking the dragon's tail dead center on that menacing blade. The dragon roared in agony. The combined streams merged into a plasma beam eating its way inside the now frailing gears, dismantling the blade from the inside out. Steam and smoke wafted from the slits. There was a ringing pop and the saw blade flew off and sank into the lava pit. The dragon stomped rampantly, holding its head in pain. In his tantrum he slammed fists onto the platform, breaking the panels apart. Lava seeped inside the panels, cooking their floatation to a crisp and swallowing them whole. Mickey tossed Cecelia onto his back, storming up the slope without a second to lose. The lava touched the toe of his shoe just as he escaped.
"Hand her here!" Gus urged. Mickey passed her off, watching fretfully as Gus took her to the top floor. He found a ledge to set her on, gently running a hand over her flushed cheeks. Her eyes were barely able to stay open. "Cecelia…" She rolled herself onto her back. It was a chore to lift her arm, but she sucked it up in order to drape it over her eyes. To hide her shame. She failed. "Stiff up a lip, Girl! We're not done yet!" He threw a bucket of ice water on her. Again, where is he getting these things? Damn Disney logic! He grabbed her by the ears. "They need your help!" He smashed his nose to hers. "NOW HELP!"
"But...my spells aren't working! The dragon isn't like the Blotlings or the Beetleworx!" He's...he's too big. Her spells will just fall off.
"Then don't battle him like one!" She arched a brow, unsure where he was going. "You once said magic is the manifestation of your conviction and imagination! What you wish to happen will happen!" He clawed at his chest, poetically projecting her words to the cavern's surrounding them. "Use that imagination, Cecelia! Your magic is merely clogged, not gone! Even a leak can yield results! Now show me the full throttle of your imagination!" Cecelia marveled at Gus in reverence. Clear in her eyes to him, however, were the doubts beginning to blossom.
xxx
Oswald's ears were too droopy to fly him or Mickey out of there. The dragon hooked his talons to the rock carved slope, dragging his half dead body to meet his scrambling quarry. His virulent growls vibrated their bones. He pressed his hulking body to the wall, slapping his chunky chin to the ledge. The shock tripped Oswald and Mickey. They paled as the dragon lifted his chin, the whole section of slope crumbling to nothing. The dragon drew his neck back. Hydraulic marshalled a full wind through vents in his chest. A green glow welled in his throat. Mickey and Oswald got to their feet. A green fumes roared from the dragon's mouth. Mickey and Oswald ran for their lives. The toon sections of the slope were erased in the blink of an eye. The pair fired electricity and thinner on their mad dash up. The eye, the mouth, his shoulders and chest. Mickey and Oswald hit everywhere and anywhere to slow the dragon. Often did their streams cross and a devastating beam would blow him back. He would return in a vengeance, howling his noxious thinner breath.
Oswald's foot dug in as the rock vanished, slipping out from under him. He was greeted by a face full of dust and rocks, sliding the stop right at the dragon's snout. Hot thin was huffed in his face. It stank more than it hurt. "Oswald!" Mickey cried. He thrust the brush to give the dagon a healthy dose of thin. The brush dribbled of all things. It was clean out. As the dragon withdrew for another foul breathed attack, Oswald expected this to hurt a lot.
The dragon opened his thinner filled mouth. The harsh fumes were at the peak of his throat. He lunged with a roar. "HEY! UP HERE!" The dragon dumbly gawked with an open mouth. Cecelia was on the edge of the upper level, hands stretched high above her head. Her small frame was trembling uncontrollably. The dragon sneered angrily, turning his thinner fumes to her. Cecelia squeaked and threw her arms down, wrenching herself in a spring. A giant boulder clogged his mouth. He grunted baffled, heaving with all his might to choke up the boulder. It was lodged in there tight. She messed her hands in some dirt. Clapping them wildly she conjured a thick has that covered the dragon's eyes, blacking everything in a dust storm. "Ha...got…'eem." Cecelia lost her balance, collapsing into Gus's arms.
The dragon was preoccupied with freeing his mouth. Mickey helped Oswald to his feet and they raced the final stretch up to their friends. "You guys okay?" Oswald asked.
"Now that you're here." Gus praised. Cecelia caught her breath, giving a weak thumbs up. A muffled roar spoiled the reunion. Truculent shaking jostled the cavern worse than the quakes tore Mena Street. The four crawled to the ledge. The dragon was thrashing about in a tantrum, smashing his jaw into the wall to shatter the boulder and clawing at his eyes to take away the haze. His boorish stomping riled the lava pit he lived in, caused the bed beneath to crack. Pocket of air released inside, bubbling the pit like soup. Dormant magma was flushed up, adding to the already hefty sum. The cavern was filling like a bowl. The dragon buried his face in it, sloshing the boulder around. The intense heat started to weaken it. Splashes chipped away at the blinding haze. "We must put an end to that metal monstrosity!"
"But how?" Mickey found bucket of thinner, reloading the brush.
"That dragon is nothing but a machine! Someone must be inside controlling it." He kept his assumptions to himself on who that might be. "Mickey, if you finish thinning out the toon, I'm sure the dragon will falter." Mickey did notice the dragon sort of slowed down when his tail was sprayed. "Oswald, Cecelia - we must buy Mickey time!" Oswald nodded firmly. Cecelia's ears dropped solemnly. I...I can't help. That boulder and dust bit weren't even creative.
A sicken crumble of rock shook their cores. The dragon chewed through the weakened boulder. One more rinse of his face and the haze left his beaming eyes. He growled murderously, glaring at the group waving meekly at him. "Let's get started!" Mickey urged. The dragon grabbed at the ledge, using the filling lava to float his way to the top level, roaring at the gaggle of heroes. Mickey darted off by himself, instantly capturing the dragon's attention.
"HEY! PEE BRAIN!" Oswald threw a rock at him. Didn't hurt, but it irritated him. His jaw twitched as he growled, bringing his full attention to the trio. Oswald zapped his nose, making him sneeze.
Cecelia took a break. Lifted her wriggling fingers she levitated scattered rocks and debris. "Reanima...DYNAMICA!" The debris and rock hurtled forth, transforming into an explosion of sparkling confetti. The dragon was not amused by the childish spell. Cecelia, Gus, and Oswald plugged their ears with impish grins.
The dragon arched a brow, then noticed the sparkling confetti...was sparkling brighter. "Ruh-roh…!" POP-POP-POP the confetti crackled and exploded like a Fourth of July celebration, jet black scrochmarks tarnishing the mech. The dragon was jerked violently, prongs at his arms and neck nearly blew out of place. Infuriated by the parlor trick the dragon tensed and threw his head up, roaring a funnel of thinner fire to the ceiling. The thinner filled the cracks. Boulders were jostled loose.
Mickey and the others rna from the growing shadows, narrowly dodging the hail storm. "Guess he doesn't like confetti!" He joked. A fully loaded brush was released upon the dragon, eating away at what little paint remained on the head and torso. The dragon would often try to attack Mickey.
Gus would go to the three generators feeding power into The Mad Doctor's lab. A little tinkering and a screeching pulse resonated painfully in the dragon's sensitive receptors. Cecelia used what she had around her - rocks, metal stuff, and some questionable liquid pooling from the wall - and would hurtle it while spouting random spells. Oswald was relentless with his remote. A good thing he kept spare batteries on hand. The dragon slammed a hand down at him, and he inflated an electrical dome the interrupted the circuits. The other hand was coming and a sent a direct beam into the wrist, severing the wires and making it go limp.
"This is working! Keep it up!" Oswald encouraged. Then he was ambushed from above. Spatters hiding in the rafter joined the fray, pinning Oswald down.
"GET BACK!" Gus swatted them away with his wrenches. Graceful twirls dared those monsters to try again. And try they did. Six spatters became eight...ten. Gus wasn't deterred. "FINISH THAT DRAGON!" He told his friends and leapt forth.
"I'll help Gus! You guys finish him!" Cecelia hovered her hand over a bucket of thinner. The green, alcoholic fumes coated her palms. She cast glowing yellow-green orbs that burst on contact with the Spatters. The thinner seeped into them, melting them on the spot.
Mickey and Oswald shared nods, glaring at the dragon. He was on hi last leg. There isn't much left to his armor. Time to end this. Coming in close, the two gathered thinner and electricity to the max. The dragon was baffled by their collusion, but savored they were making his job easier. He waited for them to come in close so he may think them to nothing. Mickey and Oswald screeched to a halt. They aimed the brush and remote. The dragon's mouth opened to fire. Electricity and thinner merged together in a vibrant plasmic beam striking the dragon dead in the back of his throat. Thinner filled his bowels while electricity snaked the veins. The dragon clattered and clanked, spasming out of control...and into a can-can for a second. The limbs were taken offline, dropping like the dead weight they are. The rest of his paint was devoured, nothing left but an exoskeleton of tune and the machinery beneath it. The dragon's energy had run its course. Oswald and Mickey ceased their attack and the dragon slouched defeated in its lava pool.
"YEAH!"
"ALRIGHT!" Mickey and Oswald slapped palms. Victory was theirs. The chest then popped open. Their jaws hit the ground in disbelief. Cecelia and Gus finished off the Spatters and were rooted by the same shock. Sitting there in the control seat was another Spatter. "That thing's been driving that the whole time?!" Mickey cried.
"Who cares! Take him out, Mick!" Oswald howled. Mickey doused the Spatter, melting him into the lava pool. Without his master the dragon fell into disrepair, collapsing his giant head onto the ledge. The light leaving his eyes forever. A ringing silence enveloped the cavern, the dragon's engines running cold.
Oswald and the others stayed on guard. Previous experience has taught them to never take anything at face value. Gus found bravery and gave the dragon a couple of test kicks. He flinched at exhaust hissing from the nostrils. But other than that, he was down for the count. "I guess this monstrosity explains The Mad Doctor's troubles."
"Where is he anyway?" Mickey asked.
A crash of glass came from above. The Mad Doctor broke through a hiding place he fashioned, falling to the ground with a cry of despair. Oswald was the first to his side with the others bringing up the rear. The Mad Doctor was helped up to his butt, propped at a wall so he wouldn't strain himself. He was a wreck. He opened his lab coat. Sparks zapped at his chest cavity, loosening it from their moorings.
"Doc! Your animatronic parts!" Oswald gasped. Even for Cecelia, the state he was in tugged at their hearts.
"They're breaking down!" Mickey caught two nuts that fell from place.
"What happened?" Cecelia's expression darkened to the brink of being depraved. Deep in the darkest depths of her souls, she didn't care WHY his parts were breaking. She wanted the breakdown to expedite so she can watch him crumble at her feet.
"It's so sad...so sad to say the least!" He flicked away a lonely tear ushered by memories of his happier times. "I was a toon in Wasteland…living in peace." He coughed dryly, choking on the artificial air of his metal lungs. Cecelia and Gus sneered sourly, rolling their eyes at his drama. He frightened them as he bulked up. "But my thirst-for-pow-er...NEARLY-GOT-DE-MO-NIC!" The four man group huddled together, scared of his Blot shaping shadow. The Mad Doctor threw himself before the shadow, barring it from harming his friends. "To control the Blot," He tire away his gloves, raising his metallic limb threateningly, "I became a-ni-ma-tro-nic~~" He cupped hands to one cheek, sprouting a fake halo and wings.
"And tried to take Mickey's brush, my magic, and nearly kill everyone in wasteland." Cecelia hatefully threw in his face. Oswald latched a hand to her mouth, growling irately at her spoiling the moment.
"Yes…" Cecelia braced herself defensively. The Mad Doctor stooped to one knee before her. He remorsefully rubbed his arm. "I've done so many horrible things. None that I can ever repent for." He took her hands in his, pleading to her with glistening regret. His touch tainted her skin, burning her like a gallon of acid was being poured. I'd never allow you to. Cecelia's features blackened dangerously. Her fangs showed as she snarled. Mickey, Oswald, and Gus but she's him in their screaming heads to get away. "Because, my dear," He slipping his hands away, "It feels like the end..." Oswald was drinking up his pity party, while the others remained on the defensive. The tale was...farfetched. "That's a bad place to start~" He closed the failing appendages with revulsion. "Look at me...I'm falling apart~..." He stretched ah and to grasp at salvation, only for his thumb to break from its joint. "I need to make a change, and NOW is not too soon!" He slipped on his gloves and took up Oswald in a waltzing spin, "All I really want...is to walk and talk," Leading into a spin he set the rabbit down, "And be a toon…!" He cupped Cecelia's cheek. His touch was acid on her skin. Every last ounce of her urged her to not bite it off. "I need to right the wrongs..." He tapped the other's noses, "One by one..." Gus shuffled his mustache, shaking off the disgusting touch. "Oswald, tell me, Oswald, do you think it can be done~?" Oswald nodded eagerly. The others held their doubts. "I hope you're right." He winked. "Cause it feels like the end. That's a bad place to start!" He slipped behind a projector, connecting wires in the shape of a bow. The projector came to life. "Look at me...I'm falling apart..." The four jumped in with the Doc behind them, emerging at the top of the steps of Mean Street South's train station.
Mean Street South was bustling with joyous cheers. People dancing in the streets and clapping as their heroes returned from their perilous journey. "HO-HO! Mickey, Oswald, Cecelia!" Jamface flew up to them. "The projectors, they are working again!" That's the best news they've heard all day. Cecelia drew her two boys into congratulatory hugs.
"But there's big news to tell ya!" The Mad Doctor inserted himself in the festivities. "I can stop the Earthquakes NOW!" Gus and the others gaped in disbelief. "Believe me, I can do it! And soon, I'll show you how!" And just like that he won the people of Wasteland, earning an even rowdier round of applause and cheer. Hats thrown in the air for the passing of this latest calamity on the horizon. "But first, what I wouldn't give…" The Mad Doctor strutted to the foot of the slope, hands cupped at his heart, "To walk and talk...and be a toon." He lowered his voice, reaching for the heavens that held his dream just beyond his grasp. "To be...a...TOOOON..." Hats and flowers showered around him, the people wishing him the best in his endeavours.
Oswald and Mickey were moved by his tale of woes and dreams. If they'd gone as far as he did to control The Blot, lost their bodies to machinery, they can't say with straight faces they wouldn't go above and beyond to get them back. To be flesh and toon again. This venture he's put himself on holds too many personal stakes for him. Emerging from solitary after twice losing the being that would make his dream a reality. Not even he would jeopardize that. That's only half the votes.
Cecelia and Gus refuse to believe he's sincere. He hasn't changed. Not on bit. They would never buy a word he said even if it came with a 90% discount. He's playing everyone like well tuned violins, and those on the wall are tapping their toes to his malignant tune. Never has he done an act of mercy or kindness without their being a consolation prize for him. This whole toon dream, wanting to stop the earthquakes and fix the projectors - every helping hand he's meant comes with the promise of a drop and sudden stop. He's going to be their Pied Piper and lure everyone - including Mickey and Oswald - to their demise. They have to find his angel before that happens.
To be continued.
No I did not forget Small Pete's part. I'm actually diverting off the main story for a bit to include the side missions around Wasteland. And plus, I can't stomach just driving through without a few fun chapters like the last story.