Chapter Twenty-One: Lucky's Story; A Bridge Too Far

Y-ello, everyone good? That's good. Guess what? I have the best news! I'm not dead! The X-Rays came back positive... or was that negative? Anyway, everything's cool and now that the charges have been dropped, I can continue writing without a care in the world... except for the anxiety I get when I worry about a chapter not being funny. You guys like it, right? Right? You find it funny, don't ya? DON'T YA?

Oh, also, check out the OFFICIAL Crying, Whimpering and a Whole lot of Shit website at: www . officialcws . piczo . com (just remove the spaces)!

THANK YOU TO THE FOLLOWING!

Hearii-Sama: We, the Writers of Crying, Whimpering and a Whole Lot of Shit, will not be held responsible for any deaths, near-deaths, death-like comas, or injuries caused by reading this story. So, sorry, but suing is out:D

Musicswordgirl: Bob says thank you and wants to know your phone number.

Yugiboydragoon: sayonara, eh? Adios! Auf Wiedersehen! Au revoir! Arrivederci! Vaarwel! Adeus! Hasta la vista, baby! Thank you, please come again! XD

Sakursa: My cat's breath smells like cat food. XD

Disclaimer: I don't own it.

Sitting in a booth at a café Bob had brought them to, Lucky sat in the center of the table on the napkin dispenser. They had just arrived and had yet to order, but Lucky began his "long story" anyway, actually eager to tell it to whomever was interested... and who would understand him. The last point was the biggest factor.

"For 200 generations, my family has toiled in the conditions of the Shawshank Laboratory and–"

"200 generations?" Bob's eyes widened "how long is that?"

Lucky shrugged "about three years"

Just then, a blonde lady waitress approached in a skirt-and-shirt uniform of red and blue and looked at the small rodent sitting on the table before her. With a hint of superiority in her voice, she turned to the human man.

"You cannot bring your rat in here, Bob"

He looked up to her "Oh, he's fine. He's my seeing-eye rat. They're a new study just coming out and I've volunteered to give it a try." He smirked "besides, it's not like he's been scurrying around in the sewers or has rabies or anything like that."

A sorrowful look came to her eye "I'm so sorry! I didn't know you were blind, Bob! Honest!"

"Eh, it's OK. A lot of people haven't figured it out" Bob shrugged to himself "so, can we have our menus?"

"Oh! Yes! Of course! Sorry!" she fumbled as she placed the menu before him.

Bob looked up to her "I'm blind, remember? Turn it to Lucky" he said as he motioned to the rat.

Curiously, the woman did just that as the small, white rat jumped off from the napkin dispenser. Walking over to the menu, he rubbed his chin as he read over the list. Picking out a choice, he tapped on the wording with his finger before showing two fingers to the waitress and tapping on the order once more.

"Smart little thing, ain't he?" The woman smiled as she wrote it down, "coming right up" then she walked off.

As soon as she was gone, Bob turned to Lucky "what did you order?"

"Two Personal-Pan All-Dressed Pizzas and cokes"

Bob wrinkled his nose slightly "I don't like anything but Pepperoni on mine"

"Then just pick off everything you don't want"

"Great!" Bob sat back in his booth "so, where were we?"

"Right here" Lucky looked up to him "are you blind?"

"No, in your story"

"Oh, well..."

For 200 generations, my family has toiled in the conditions of the Shawshank Laboratory. Locked away from the rest of the world, we were bred and tested upon until we were able to accumulate a high sense of intelligence.

The cell doors slammed shut in front me as I stood in the center of my small room. A pile of twigs and straw made up the bed to my right and shavings were scattered over the rest of the floor under my pink feet. Concrete sidings surrounded me on three of the walls of my quarters while bars faced out to the ally between my side and the one where another collection of cells began. It was a big enough separation to give each of us a good look around, and to allow the Humans in White Coats to come up and down with ease. Many upon many cages exactly identical to my own were set side-by-side and top-to-bottom in rows and columns of precise organization. They started right at the floor, and rose to the ceiling above me; resulting in thousands of cells in a single room, each holding a single rat. There were rumors of others rooms like this one in the large building, but it was hard to believe any more rats could possibly exist than what could be seen here. My holding is against the wall of one table, so I was lucky to only have three neighbors instead of four.

On each and every door, was set a number. This count (set as five digits) was different for each rat and was how the humans identified us. However, (this is where it gets confusing at times) when a rat dies, another new rat takes its number. This is why we came up with the naming system... less headaches this way. So, amongst each other, we have names that we had chosen for ourselves the moment we were able to understand what a name was. I am number 1037...2... but I chose Lucky as my name; mainly because I have always felt different from the other members of my very, very, very, very large family.

Resting my elbows on the wire bars that made up the door, I gazed out to the other prisoners around me. Many of whom were family. For example, straight across from me on the table opposing my own is the holding where my Uncle stays... at least I think it is my uncle... it could be my nephew... or perhaps my sister... all I can see is an ear so, really, it is difficult to tell.

A loud buzzer rang overhead, causing an uproar to sound all around me. The noise told of new inmates that were on their way in. A chant began to rise above the noise of small fists rattling their cage bars as three Humans entered carrying nine little rats.

"FRESH FISH! FRESH FISH! FRESH FISH! FRESH FISH!"

A small voice came from one of the small creatures "we are not fish! And if you are all so dumb to not realize so, then you are indeed failure experiments!"

Suddenly, the chant changed "FRESH MEAT! FRESH MEAT! FRESH MEAT!"

I rubbed my throbbing temples, then shouted out in pure frustration "MUST WE DO THIS EVERY TIME? NEW RATS COME IN EVERY DAY!"

The chant died, to which the New Ones were thankful, but a rat called from across the room "you're just jealous because we didn't do it when you can in!"

"That is not the issue here!" I returned as I pointed a small finger towards the voice "my jealousy goes far deeper than that!"

"Ah, shove off, Lucky"

"You shove off, Steve!" I spat, suddenly locking eyes with the other

Another rat called down in a voice soft and content, like that of a poet or olden-times being "I see your brows are full of discontent. Your hearts of sorrow, and your eyes of tears" there was a slight pause "by the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes"

Giving one another a look, both Steve and I glared up at the rat who's cage was way up in a column on Steve's side of the ally. In union, we both let out a low growl.

"Ack, Shut up, Shakespeare!"

"A rat that quotes and named himself Shakespeare? Well... that's not original at all!" the human stated with rolled eyes

Lucky shrugged "ya, but he was a good rat"

But Bob wasn't listening anymore, he was turned around in his seat and glaring across the way to another table where a single man sat. "Hey! What the hell are you looking at?" the guide snapped at him "haven't ya ever seen a blind guy having a conversation with his seeing-eye rat?"

Lucky looked up and over to where the dumbfounded man sat, then redirected his stare back to Bob "are you listening, or should I stop?"

"Nah, go ahead" the guide sighed "that damn waitress is as slow as Hell with our orders anyway"

A loud buzzer sounded from a speaker in the ceiling, only this one was different from the first as it was followed by the bared door on my - and every other - cell slid open with a clang. Like a pack of mindless slaves, we each stepped out from our respective cells and stood tall in front of them as the humans went up and down the rows to count us. Not many rats had escaped from this place (actually, to my knowledge, not a single one has), but this process is played out nevertheless every single day.

A second buzzer (this one not as loud) sounded about us, thereby ordering me to turn to my right to follow behind the rats in front of me. Hundreds of us marched from our sleeping quarters in straight, single-order lines as we walked from our different levels, down narrow staircases and onto the floor without so much as a squeak to one another. I caught the bored glances of some of my friends, but I knew that, if I had stopped, I would be punished for stepping out of line. And that is something I don't do - that wise rats don't do.

As the several separate lines of white rats joined into one long line, we still held discipline and not a single shove was administered or curse word uttered. We were dignified and intelligent, at least, before those white-robed fools above us.

Thankfully, today I had a stroke of luck and landed up closer to the Server of the Food than usual, resulting in my getting a table much quicker and easier. Grabbing one nearby, I glanced back to see some of my friends right behind me and already seating themselves with their trays; Red, however, I could see was still waiting in line, leaning on his tray with one arm as a rest.

Several minutes later, I looked up from nibbling on one of my three pellets that were given for breakfast, occasionally taking a sip out of a rat-sized mug filled with coffee. Moving through the crowd towards my already crowded table, I saw a familiar face approaching.

"Good morning, Red!" I called to him with a wave

Said rat, his brow set low, stomped up to the table and slumped down in the seat across from me. Letting the tray he held drop in front of him with a small bang, he leaned an elbow on the table as he looked at me.

"Good morning? GOOD MORNING? What's so good about it? We wake up, greet new additions to our miserable lives, forget those that died the previous day and then get paraded into this damn cafeteria like a swarm of freaks in some kind of freak show! We get served the same damned three pellets at every meal PLUS a cup of terrible coffee! Then we-"

"-You have no right to complain!" called a voice from down the table that belonged to a rat named Haywood "You think your coffee is bad? I got the bottom part of the coffee pot today! JUST LOOK AT THIS!" the rat held out his cup in front of him before turning it upside down. Unlike a normal liquid, the mixture slowly slid out from its container and fell to the table with a PLOP, still holding its rounded shape as it bobbled around like a piece of Jello.

"That's... interesting" I commented

"You should try eating it!" was the reply I got as I watched Haywood pick up a knife and fork to start hacking through it... it was surprisingly hard.

Turning around, I looked to Red, only to find him eyeing a New Fish gnawing hungrily on an end of his first pellet. With a groan, the rat glared angrily down at the piece of food he held in his small paws.

"My pellet is stale!" he complained as he slammed down said object back on his tray "and I think I chipped a tooth!"

Red looked to him, waving around one of his own pellets as he did so "It's a rat pellet." he stated as he tapped his piece on the table with a small bang, bang "They're all stale!"

I frowned "how can a dried rat pellet be stale?"

Shakespeare, who sat one or two seats down from me, sighed "why, my cheese, my digestion, why hast thou not served thyself in to my table, so many meals?"

Silence followed for a moment, then I scoffed "screw just cheese! I'd kill for a whole lasagna!"

To that, the nodding of all heads went around our relatively long table.

Suddenly, an uproar sounded in the direction of the food-line up where a good 100 rats were still waiting to be served with their trays. When I looked over, I found it to be Joseph and a new rat I didn't recognize that were fighting like mad not far off from there... what I didn't know was why.

Catching the eye of one very attractive, female rat named Kim, I nodded towards the noisy conflict "what's going on?"

She stopped for a moment, gave an elegant glance back to the fight and then smiled slightly as she turned back to me "two rats with the same number, I'm afraid. Honestly, if we get in arguments over such small things... I would hate to think what will happen when we confront larger problems in society."

"You call this society?" Red glared at the female "I've seen cats with more finesse!"

Haywood frowned and made a loose hand gesture towards us with the knife he had been using to cut his coffee "what's a 'cat'?"

With a roll of her black-outlined eyes, she moved off to where the other females ate in their half of the café. I watched her go and seat herself down... but I was forced to look away at the sight of the Sisters (a small group of homosexual rats) making their way towards me. I turned in my seat and hunched over the three pellets in front of me, determined that if I stayed this way they wouldn't notice me. With a stroke of luck they didn't and walked on by, but I could still smell the chocking perfume even after they had disappeared from my sight. It was a commonly known fact that they liked me... but I wasn't into guy rats... especially the kind that giggled and flaunted themselves like they did.

The fight had moved against the far wall of the cafeteria with both rats still going fierce. However, in a quick turn of events, the older rat had grabbed hold of a nearby 'stale pellet' and had began clubbing the other one with it mercilessly. He probably would have killed the young rat, had his friends not pulled him away kicking and squeaking random threats.

((For all of our intelligence,)) I shook my head slightly as I watched ((most have yet to acquire a clam state of mind to allow us to use our vast knowledge.))

"What a fearful night this is!" Shakespeare exclaimed "there's two or three of us have seen strange sights!"

"Why don't you just shut the hell up, Mexican-Boy?" Haywood glared "and give all this up before you run outta quotes!"

I glared over to the less-then-intelligent rat before me "Shakespeare was - is - not Mexican"

The poetic rat's eyes seemed to take on a determined set "I see my reputation is at stake, my fame is shrewdly gored"

Red's eyes suddenly shot up "who has gourds?"

With a slight roll of my eyes, I scanned the crowd of male and female faces, only to frown as I found one face to be missing.

"Where's Brooks?" I asked, slightly worried for the elder rat

Red shook his head slightly "ah, the idiot was eaten by that damn crow of his"

"Jeeze, Jake ate him?"

"Yeah... Jake" the rat frowned "what kinda name is that for a bird anyway?"

"Well, he was named after Jake"

"Why that rat? He was too annoying"

"Well... Jake, the crow, ate Jake, the rat"

Red's eyebrows went up "Jake ate Jake and therefore became Jake"

I sighed "and then Brooks gets eaten by Jake, who he raised. I told him not to keep it!"

Haywood looked about "does that mean we have to rename the crow? Maybe combine the two names together? Ya know, Brooks, Jake... how about Brakes?"

"His life was gentle," began a certain rat "and the elements so mixed in him that nature might stand up and say to all the world, 'This was a man'"

I smirked to Shakespeare "that's deep... except Brooks was a rat"

"You guys had little knives too? Aww!" Bob smiled as he took a bite of his newly-delivered pizza slice (after, of course, he had picked off everything he didn't like).

Lucky looked up slightly as he attempted to cut a small piece of his slice off using a knife propped up on his shoulder. "Yes," he panted, slightly out of breath from using such a heavy tool "it was so much easier"

Bob swallowed and pointed to the piece on Lucky's plate "are you going to eat that?"

"I'M TRYING!"

Even this early in the day, I could tell that today was unlike any other I had survived through in the past. My thoughts were confirmed to be true, when one of the head of staff at the Laboratory came forward to us after breakfast. Apparently, it had been decided that a draw of numbers would take place to pick who would be allowed to do a special test in the wood-shop. Over 4000 rats signed up for the opportunity, and, wouldn't you know it, the names of myself and a bunch of guys I knew had been picked out. I knew a good rat who has access to the ballots practically at all times, it only cost us three pellets a rat.

The shop was huge, just like any other room in the building was. About 10 large tables with steel sides (most with drawers built in the sides of them where the hand tools were kept) and wooden tops were rowed in the front of the room, while the back had all the necessary power tools to make any kind of object desired. Band saws, table saws, compound miter saws, spindle sanders, routers, jointers, plainers... every one imaginable.

The only flaw to this incredible room... was that everything was in human-size. Therefore, more rats were killed in this one place alone that in all the other parts of the labs put together. However, this didn't seem to hinder anybody from showing up... either for a specific assignment or just as a hobby, for the room always had at least 32 rats at work.

Forty rats in total were assigned to the testing area this time and it was left up to us to divide the two teams. After that, the two lots of us separated and began climbing up onto the two tables which were being used by the use of stairs... really long stairs. Yes, that is correct... the humans could make rats super-intelligent... but they had yet to realize the convenience of an elevator. So, needless to say, every single one of us was practically exhausted by the time we got to the top of these human-sized work tables. We were also quite annoyed as well, seeing as how Shakespeare, being on my team, kept muttering the same sentence over and over to himself as he climbed "In following him, I follow but myself. In following him, I follow but myself." It can get really annoying... really... really... really fast!

Wiping the sweat off my brow, I wandered across our table (about a meter square) and stared across to the table where the other rats had gathered. There was a fairly good gap between us, so we couldn't possibly be working with one another... could we?

Not really knowing what we were to do, we spent the first couple minutes yelling back and forth between the two tables. Most of the conversations being pointless (and sometimes disturbing) threats. Such proclamations were:

"You there! Your mother was a whore and your father was a toad!"

To which the reply was "I'm your brother, you moron!"

Squinting, the rat frowned "Grace?"

"No! Henry!"

"Oh! Right! Wow! What are the odds? You shaved your beard!"

"I never had a beard! What was Joe!"

"Oh, where's he?"

"Dangling off the edge of the desk!"

"What's he doing there?"

"He fell!"

"Obviously!"

"He said something about bungie-jumping!"

"He always had a thing with death!"

As the beginnings of a headache began to show itself in the center of my forehead, two men in white lab coats walked forward to our two tables. In each's hand was a box of miscellaneous junk and a piece of paper. Without so much as a word, they dumped the contents of the box on each of our tables and placed the papers on the desks before us before walking away.

A shrill scream rang across the shop from a rat who had been working on the plainer, causing everyone of us to look up and yell a harsh "SHUT UP!" before turning back to the task at hand. Placing myself beside the center of the rolled-up piece of paper, I began to call rats forward to help me unravel it. Noticing the other table doing the same, I read the words written as soon as they appeared to me and began to assemble different ideas within my brain.

Apparently, the two teams were to work together to build a bridge to link ways between the tables using the stuff provided. There was no time-limit, but the bridge had to be able to support our own weight.

It seemed simply enough, so, as the plainer was being cleaned, we began to dig through the rubble provided. After a moment, I looked around at the sounds of a muffled voice... it sounded familiar, but I couldn't make it out. Then I noticed someone to be missing from our group.

"Haywood?" I called "Haywood? Where are you?"

The muffled voice spoke again, and this time it was clear where the source was. "Under here" it called... from beneath the junk.

After deciding he was no great loss and that we would uncover him eventually as we dug for supplies, we began our task of building the bridge. The first thing we figured we had to do, was to somehow secure a cable between us; this is where our military training came into play. Slowly, each table began to build different designs of the same tool: a ballista. The differences in the contraption were small and hard to notice, so this sparked a certain sense of anger and jealousy amongst the two groups; with each side accusing the other of plagiarism.

It took about 15 minutes, but, once completed, I stepped back to admire our handy work of rubber-bands, toothpicks and nail-files; and it was quickly yelled across to the other table that we had finished first; to which the reply was that we had cheated. How do you cheat in building a ballista out of miscellaneous junk, I have no idea.

"That is so cool!" one rat, by the name of Randy, yelled... then frowned "...what is it?"

"Oh, shut up" I snapped "you're not even a member of our group! Your supposed to be over there!"

The rat shrugged "I went up the wrong stairs"

Rubbing my sore temples, I turned to Shakespeare "would you mind grabbing me that pencil over there?"

Said rat smiled in return "bear with me, good boy, I am much forgetful" then he walked off

Red scowled "we can't use a pencil, Lucky! It isn't arrow-dynamic enough!"

"It's pointed! How the hell can you get more arrow-dynamic than that!"

A young rat who's name has yet to be announced stepped forward "how about we shoot this marble over!" He offered as he held up the giant blue ball in his arms

"A marble won't stick into a wall!"

"I know! I just wanna see how far it will go!"

Red smirked as he leaned against the ballista behind him, his arms crossed over his chest casually "how about we use Shakespeare? Ya know, to test it out and everything... after all, we don't wanna use anything of value to us"

Said rat, who had just returned with the average-sized pencil in his arms, smiled at Red "my noble friend," he began "chew upon this!" And then, with a giant swing, he smashed the pencil across his challenger's head (plus that of two other innocent bystanders) and sent him tumbling to the ground. Then, with a scowl of his own, Shakespeare brought the pencil back and pointed its led tip in Red's confused, scrunched face, "I wish you all the joy of the worm" he said with a stern nod of his head.

I rolled my eyes and snatched the pencil away "give me that before you hurt somebody!"

Slamming down the pointed object into our make-shift ballista, I didn't even look at where it was pointed before letting loose the trigger and sending the missile onto its course.

"We didn't aim it yet!" cried a rat named Bill

His twin, Mill, jumped forward "screw aiming! We didn't tie on the sting yet!"

"I told you we should have used a marble!" the young rat cried, holding up his object again

I glared at Bill "It's a damned ballista! You don't aim! You just load, fire and hope for the best!"

"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

All heads turned to the somewhat gory sight on the table across from them. Apparently, while they had been arguing, the projectile had flown across the gap and had speared a single rat from the other team. In fact, he was speared with such speed, that the pencil pulled him from the table and back into the wall behind them... and that is where he hung... motionless.

"That was my brother!" a voice shouted from behind me

"No!" called another from the other side of the table "I'm over here!"

"Oh! You shaved your beard!"

"Would you all shut up!" I yelled in frustration

"Just great!" Mill shouted as he glared at me "now were probably going to have to stay late to clean that mess up! Nice going, Lucky!"

"Oh, shut up! I'd like to see you do better!"

To that, Mill stomped over, loaded a toothpick into the contraption, shoved the machine's head downward a bit, and fired the wooden spear to the other side. It flew honest and true to where it had been aimed, the only bad part was that it was too highly aimed to hit the table and too low to hit a rat in the stomach or chest... but just right to make Henry lose his ratlyness.

"THAT WAS MY BROTHER!"

Cries of anger (and agony) rang across the gap to my side of the table and in an instant we had return fire with all sorts of objects flying over to us. Toothpicks, thumbtacks, erasers, balled up wire, pieces of cloth, a chess pawn, Sam's glass eye... it was like raining cats and dogs only with objects instead of animals! With a gasp, I ducked as a large, green ball bolted towards me, only to witness it strike the rat behind me and knocking him out cold.

The young rat turned his pleading eyes to me as he once again rose up the ball in his hands "they got to use a marble!" Then he was plowed down by a red one.

I shouted for return fire, to which Shakespeare was incredibly handy and quick to fetch more ammo. All the while he shouted quotes in a voice so deep and harsh it almost sent shivers down my spine. He yelled "cry 'havoc,' and let slip the dogs of war!" or even "Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears! The first thing we do, let's kill all the lawyers!"

We fired back with equal randomness as they did, and the casualties were just as equal on their side as in our own. In fact, by the time the scientists came in to break up the fight (one which left with a pencil lodged in his palm), we were down to about six rats on each team. There was me, Shakespeare, Red (who was still light-headed), Haywood (who had recently become unearthed) and Ditto and Logan (both of which had yet to awaken from the poetic-one's blow). On the opposite side, from what I could see, there was Sam (who was now missing one eye), Peter, Shaggy, Hector, Tutankhamun and Yo.

Tut, a rat who had bent a piece of wire into a circle and wore it on his head as a crown, stepped forward to his team's contraption "denounce this machine, I say! Too many lives have been slain by its foul functions!"

"Oh, shut up!" Haywood yelled "you think your so high and mighty with that piece of wire on your head, but ya know what? You're nothing but a snobby bastard!"

The Egyptian-Loving rat admired his nails "point being?"

"Point being: you don't deserve to have a name no one came pronounce!"

"How dare you!" Tut turned to Shaggy "Will you just stand there?" he exclaimed "kill him!"

"I don't kill, brother" Shaggy smiled through his long, white bangs "peace out forever"

Yo smirked as he kicked the catapult with his foot "'his ting is wack. What we need is a ting that will shoot that this there straight over to that place over there and stick into their tingy"

Tut said nothing, but merely studied the rat while rubbing his chin.

Peter and Hector, identical twins that did everything together, spoke at the same time "mind (mind) repeating (repeating) that (that)?"

Realizing my team was the one left with the brains, I took it upon myself to find a new pointed-object to spear into the wall. I did call for help, but the others were occupied with an argument over what they would have for lunch. So, I worked amongst the rubble alone... until I felt a tap on my shoulder. Turning, my eyes doubled to find it to be one-eyed Sam, who wasn't one-eyed anymore cause he had found his glass eye.

The rat smirked "hey, Luck, I got bored of the other side and came over to see what's up. They are all idiot's over there"

A yell sounded across the gap "YOU FOOL! I SAID DESTROY HIM!"

"Peace out, dude"

"WHAZUP!"

"Whatzup (Whatzup)!"

I nodded to Sam "I agree. But how did you get over here so fast?"

Sam shrugged "eh, I found a meter stick and put it over the gap. It fit cause the gap is only two feet and nine inches wide... figures, huh?"

I blinked repeatedly, glancing over to the simple yet efficient bridge that now held the weight of my entire team who were watching Haywood attempt bungee-jumping. "Well, what the hell is the point in that? We didn't get a meter stick on our side!"

Sam looked at the pile of junk beside us "maybe they thought my team would need more help then yours"

"What? That's ridiculous! Both teams are as good as even!"

"WHAZUP!"

"Whazup (whazup)!"

"SHUT UP, YOU LOWLY FOOLS! MAGGOTS WOULD GLARE DOWN UPON YOU IN DISGUST!"

"You're totally stressed-out, dude... why can't you just let things be groovy?"

That's it folks! Part Two of Lucky's Story will is already up so go right ahead. This is why it took so long to write... cause both have to written at the same time!

Don't forget to R&R!