KP - Countdown : Part XXI – Kim's Birthday - Afternoon
Motor Ed was cranked. Of all the places in the United States he could be released from prison (this time) why did it have to be Middleton? Not only that, why did he have to report to a little weasel who was himself once a convicted felon?
Hank Perkins may have been ceremoniously disbarred when he was captured by Kim Possible, her two brothers and Ron Stoppable, but he still was qualified to work as a parole officer. When Ed found out about that, he figured getting a crack at "Red" was going to be cake. Turned out all Perkins wanted to do was punch his time card and go home. That meant he was just going to run things by the book, do the absolute minimum and sign off on it.
No matter. Not like Edward Lipsky, better-known-as Motor Ed was going to be hanging around here long enough to complete his parole anyhow. Settle up with Red and her skinny bro (she was actually dating that dude?) and he was going to high-tail it back to Jersey, as far away from Aunt Gertrude as possible.
Normally speaking, Ed wasn't the type for out and out revenge. He'd far rather start building stuff again, so he could go back to his hobby of crushing stuff until the whole world was one big, rockin' scrap yard. Only this time the affront was so heinous, so wrong, he had to do something about it. Red was going to pay, oh was she going to pay.
In prison, they cut off most of his hair.
Did they send him to that special prison like they did cousin Drew? No. For some reason he didn't rate that like his blue hued relative or that babe with the green magic. At least there, his individuality would have been respected. As far as he knew, Drew still had his baby mullet, or at least he did the last time he saw him on TV, waiting for his trial.
He ended up being even angrier when he found out almost all of his gang was still in prison back in Jersey. He was going to have to do this himself.
It was a good thing there was only one Possible family in the phone book.
He scratched the back of his head. The hair back there was only about an inch long, nothing like the glorious mane he had before Red sent him up the river.
"Nobody messes with the mullet!" He growled, shaking his fist in the general direction of the Possible home.
Oh how quickly people forgot. There was a time when Adrena Lynn couldn't walk down the street without several people chanting "Whaaaaaaat…will she do next!" Now she no longer even turned any heads. What was worse was that nobody seemed to recognize her name, let alone her face.
Two and a half years had passed since Kim Possible exposed her faked bungee jump stunt. Twenty six months deprived of her source of income and even her very freedom all because of that freaky little flame-haired hussy.
Maybe it was the fact she didn't look a whole lot like she used to. After serving two years for kidnapping (the attempted murder charges didn't stick) her hair had grown out to its natural dirty-dishwater blonde and she didn't have the same ultra-slender physique any more. Oh, she hadn't gone to pot. Now she had the muscles to back up her bravado.
She spent the time in a regular prison, and not a juvenile camp, because it turned out her stunts weren't the only thing she faked. Her name was changed, her hair color was fake and even her age was a fabrication. Seventeen year old Adrena Lynn was actually Twenty-three year old Lynne Adrian when she kidnapped Brick Flagg.
Fortunately, while she was incarcerated, she had access to the internet. While digging for information on her nemesis she found something very interesting.
There was a site called KP – Countdown.
Just like with those homely little twins who used to star on that sappy sitcom, somebody had set up a countdown clock for when the great Kim Possible was going to turn eighteen. She logged onto it that very morning, smiling gleefully.
There was a huge banner there; WOO HOO, SHE'S LEGAL!
Kim was going to get a very special birthday present that day.
Adrena Lynn wasn't the only person who could use the internet to her advantage. The Knights of Rhodagan were very aware of the significance of that particular Saturday. They too had a score to settle with the crime-fighting redhead. Wallace the Third may have renounced his claim to the throne of their postage stamp size nation, but it was going to be a long time before his father retired, transforming the little European monarchy into a Constitutional Democracy.
In all honesty, they couldn't care less that it was her birthday. That was only a coincidence that some of them found amusingly ironic. What made all of them happy was the amount of useful information they found posted about the teen hero. Beyond her birth date, there were all kinds of tidbits about her, enough to form a complete dossier on her without ever raising any kind of suspicion. If they had used their hackers to pry further, they would have sent up all kinds of red flags. Instead, they were compiling data that would have done the most clever of stalkers proud. It was just amazing that a person in such a high-profile public position could be found using the simplest of basic directories. It was a wonder every villain on the planet she ever tangled with wasn't descending on her home on a daily basis. It was almost as if her enemies were honoring some sort of unspoken safe-zone.
This time they were taking no chances. Instead of just sending two of their operatives, they were sending a full team of six. This time there would be no escape from their wrath.
What most people don't know about the virtual world was how easy it was to watch people. Not just the ease entities like Rhodagan Industries found Kim's home address, but how easy it was to watch for people who gather exactly that sort of information. There were several simple ways of doing it. Simple counters placed in data banks, key word flags, as well as a whole host of others. There were even more esoteric means, especially where known miscreants were involved.
All of that was as simple as breathing to Wade Load. He was more than just a source of technical wonders and handy tactical information for Kim and her team. He was also a sentinel who protected her from many sources of harm she never knew about. While some of her enemies were simply too stupid to take the fight to her in her home (take Drakken for instance,) that was not always the case.
Fortunately, there were several lines of defense.
He was a little surprised when so many warnings popped up at once, though the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Kim would likely break every bone in his body if she knew he was the one who secretly put up the KP-Countdown site. It was in reality a snare meant to bring all kinds of perverts and other dangerous types to light. One didn't get any special attention just logging onto it, but if you started visiting other databases, et cetera, a special logarithm would determine that a threat existed.
It all came down to the simple questions of Who? What? Where? When and How?
Certain threats called for certain responses. All of it could be handled automatically by his systems, but he preferred a more personal touch where certain entities were involved. He had to act quickly. If he wasn't ready to go to the Possibles home at the right time, it was likely both his Mom and Kim would come into his room and bodily drag him there. Such was the price he had to pay when he left his room to deal with Team Impossible. He proved he could indeed function beyond the walls of his little sanctum and none of them were ever going to allow him to shut himself off from the real world like that again.
No problem. It did feel good to get out of his room every once and a while.
As with anything he did from his control center, all it took was a few keystrokes to set everything into motion. That done, he went to his closet to change into a nice shirt and slacks. Kim's Mom had called his and informed her the party was going to be dressy casual. That was a little surprising to him, considering most of her birthday parties he ever attended (via the Kimmunicator) were very, very casual events. Only her sixteenth was any different. Granted, Kim's parents always dressed conservatively nice, even in what they would deem to be casual, but asking Felix, Monique and especially Ron to dress up a little for the event? That was kind of strange.
At least he knew how Kim would be dressing. A quick check of her account showed the debit for Club Banana and it didn't take him any effort at all to match the transaction up with a record of the pink dress being purchased from inventory. He approved; Kim always looked great in pink.
Fully dressed, he checked his system one more time. Everything was as it should be. With a deep breath, he reached for the knob of his bedroom door. Already he was feeling the pull of his many terminals. They were his friends and they did not like for him to leave them alone. Well, it was only going to be for a few short hours, then he would return.
He found it fun to actually have to catch up on messages when he came back.
Ron stretched out on the sofa, trying to relax. Every so often he would reach into a bag of cheese puffs and throw one into the air. At first, he tried catching them in his mouth, though it quickly became evident Rufus was going to catch the lion's share of them coming back down. He was just a little too quick on the draw.
Halfway through the bag, the little guy was starting to show off. He would cut flips, somersault off the back of the couch, use his hind legs to snap the curl in two before grabbing both in his buck-toothed maw, or simply just snatch them out of the air with an audible crunch.
The bag was mostly gone when Ron realized his naked mole rat had eaten almost all of it.
He was a little put out to be banished from the upstairs by his now adult girlfriend. Under the claim her new outfit was going to be a surprise, Monique and her shooed him out of her bedroom, closing and latching the hatch behind him as he fled down the stairs. He stood at the bottom of her steps for a little bit, arguing that so far he had only been able to spend just a few minutes with his bon-diggity lady on her special day, to no avail.
Sadly, he went down to the kitchen to make himself useful there.
Only to be shooed out of there by Mrs. Dr. P, who was getting ready to decorate the cakes.
Feeling like a fifth wheel all of a sudden (on his 'official' if not legal birthday) he ended up sulking in the family room. There wasn't anything worthwhile on TV on Saturday afternoons, save a few baseball games, and those he didn't want to get into unless he could see them start to finish. The same was true for the multitude of movies the Possibles had in their collection. In a couple hours he was going to have to jump back in the shower and change clothes once more. For some odd reason, Kim's Mom had declared the birthday dinner an actual party, inviting Wade, Felix and Monique. Tara and Josh were supposed to be invited as well, but they were out of town, visiting the campus in Kentucky his platinum blonde haired friend would attend that fall.
Bored, he even tried calling Felix to run out and play some video games to burn up the afternoon. With the 'rents in party prep mode, Kim and Monique in girl-talk, dress-up mode and the twins nowhere to be found, there was certainly nothing tying him down to the house until that evening. The party itself wouldn't start until seven, so he had plenty of time to burn quarters over at the Pizza-Shack or some other convenient purveyor of computer generated gamage.
Problem was, his wheelchair bound friend was completely incommunicado. That in itself wasn't cause for any kind of concern. If he wasn't home, the only way to reach him was his cell phone, and if that was off for some reason, well, that was it, he couldn't be reached.
Scowling, he reached into the bag and pulled out all the remaining puffs, throwing them all into the air at once. In a startling display of speed and precision, Rufus managed to snag every last bit of it. Not a single crumb hit the floor. He then tilted the bag up and got the little clumps of hardened cheese-like material out of the bottom.
He was about to go to his room and read the latest message board posts on his computer when his Kimmunicator went off. For a short while he tried calling it bay other names, but Ronnunicator just sounded strange and simply calling it a communicator sounded like he was carrying an outdated prop from Space Passage: The Original Series. So, in the end, he simply called it by the same name Kim always did. Jim and Tim were lucky, their names had the same IM that Kim's did, making Timmunicator (molded in red) and a Jimmunicator (molded in green) sound decent.
"Yo, Wade, What up? You're not trying to flake on tonight, are you?"
"Wouldn't dream of it." The tech guru answered quickly. "You up for a quick solo?"
"Depends. What've you got in mind?"
"I think you'll like this one."
Motor Ed bellowed in rage at the two small shapes harassing him. He had just broken into a garage not half a mile from Kim's home, hoping to find something he could quickly turn into a raging vehicle of doom. Instead he was confronted by two boys who could barely be called teenagers. Strangely enough, they were dressed up just like Red, save for their shirts being tucked into their olive cargo pants. Even in the melee, he could see the family resemblance. They had to be Red's little brothers.
"He sure doesn't look like the picture in Kim's file." One of them said.
"Yeah, he looks a lot more like that guy on that motorcycle building show!" the other responded as they raced around him.
"Oh man, that's rank! Seriously. I do not look like that dude!"
"Seriously?" One of them laughed as he slid between his legs. Ed bent almost double trying to catch him.
"Seriously." The other said as he slammed an engine block on a chain into the large man.
Ed went down hard. Moments later he could feel his hands being pulled behind his back. Unfortunately, he was too dazed to offer any more resistance.
As the police rolled up, one of them smiled and said. "Got a message from our sister."
"Quit calling her 'Red.'" The other continued.
"Seriously!" They chorused, laughing their heads off as they left him to the tender mercies of the Middleton Police Department.
A delivery van slowly made its way down a winding mountain road that led into the suburbs of Middleton. Six sets of eyes watched the road intently. Soon they would reach their deployment site and abandon the rented vehicle, intent on doing much bodily harm on a certain former cheerleader. A couple of them started an exchange in a language that was not English or the ancient language of their land (which pretty much spoke the former in this modern age.) They bared their teeth and pounded there breasts, which were clad in composite armor made to look like renaissance plate-mail.
"To revenge!" One of them proclaimed, holding his hand up as if he held a cup of wine.
"To revenge!" The other responded. "A dish best served cold!" They smashed their hands together and mimicked drinking from their pretended flagons.
The driver of the van simply rolled his eyes. That was the last time he was going to let them bring along laptops with DVD players on a mission. There was only so much of the boxed set of Space Passage: Deep Space Eight he could take.
Looking in his rearview mirror, a deep from crossed his broad face. "We've got company." He announced to the rest of his team.
He slowed the van, pulling over to the side. Moments later, a police officer wearing a tactical vest approached the driver's side window. The rental lacked any kind of power accessories, so he was forced to crank it down by hand.
"I need to see your license and registration, Please." The officer asked in a mild Irish brogue.
"Is there a problem, Officer?" The driver asked as evenly as possible. He handed over his passport and the rental agreement.
"You have a malfunctioning tail light." He scanned the documents, then looked inside the van. His eyebrows went up momentarily. Sure, Officer Hobble was used to seeing some strange things in Middleton, especially where Kim Possible was concerned, but it wasn't every day you saw a deliver van full of armored knights.
"I suppose you are all on your way to a costume party?"
The driver smiled warmly. "We've been hired as entertainment for a birthday party."
Hobble eyed him suspiciously. "You've come all the way from someplace called…Rhodagan? Just to do some cheap dog and pony show? I find that hard to believe."
The driver gestured at the rest of his team. "In our field, it pays to specialize."
"I see. Step out of the vehicle, please. All of you."
Moments later, all six knights were lined up. It was beginning to occur to Hobble that every single one of them was considerably larger than him and were armed with very real looking medieval weapons.
At about that moment, the same thought started occurring to them. Hobble wondered if following up on the tip he had received that a group of foreign enforcers were planning to attack the Possibles was wise.
It wouldn't have been if he didn't have backup. Just as the first few started reaching for their weapons, a large aircraft suddenly rose from below the edge of the road. It was dark red and black and boasted what looked like considerable weaponry.
"I think the six of you need to come downtown with me. Oh, and I would appreciate it if you left the weapons in the van. I have seen for myself what those nasty things can do to a mini-golf course.
Adrena Lynn spitted and fumed as she was tied up by the familiar blonde boy. Of course he was a little taller and a little better filled out than he had been the last time she saw him, but when he appeared right as she was about to leave her hiding place and surprise Kim Possible, she didn't think he posed much of a threat, especially since she was able to subdue him and tie him to a whirling dervish ride the last time.
"Wow, prison does a body good." He said, admiring her bare, muscular arms.
Her dark eyes glared daggers at him. "When I get out next time, I'm going to make sure to take out both you and that freaky cheerleader!"
"Looks like the Rondo came to play this time. I'm bad, you sad, uh huh." He chanted, walking away, leaving the one-time TV star to stew until the authorities arrived.
"Uh huh." Squeaked the little animal riding in his cargo shorts pocket. Ron hadn't even bothered changing into mission gear. He shook his head as he hit the sidewalk, heading back toward home.
He hadn't even broken a sweat.
Kim looked at herself in the mirror. She had the dress on with a pair of white shoes, twirling around a few times, trying to determine exactly how fast she could turn without giving everyone around her a show.
Monique trudged up the stairs and sat down at her computer center, straddling the back of the chair. "No sign of the boys." She reported.
Kim looked confused. "Ron too?"
"Hey, you're the one who wanted to run him off this afternoon. Maybe he's just hitting the neighborhood video games with Felix."
Tightening the scrunchie, Kim twirled her ponytail around a little bit. "Too much?"
Monique turned up her nose. "Eh, better go with the full hair look tonight. Ron likes it that way anyhow."
"Yeah." She pulled the scrunchie off and let her whole crimson waterfall spill down her back. Before long she was going to have to see a hairdresser, if for nothing more than to take care of some split ends, but her mane was now starting to reach for her backside. She hadn't had it cut at all since her Junior Prom over fourteen months earlier. The length in the back was fine, but she was still having to deal with that one thick lock that like drooping down over the bridge of her nose.
Running her fingers through her hair one more time, she turned to her friend. "Think he'll like it?"
"Oh, I know he'd going to like it. What I don't know is how much cotton wadding to take down there to control his nosebleed."
They could hear voices downstairs. One clearly belonged to Ron, while the others sounded like the twins and possibly Felix.
"Showtime." Kim skipped to the hatch, barely floating over her carpet.
Kim Possible and all related characters © Disney