Hello again folks and welcome another special mission! (Actually, it's only the sequel to the mission from yesterday, but still...) Whoot, it's still an update for now! Again, thanks to everyone who's been reading so far and I hope to keep you entertained for many more fun missions! Enjoy the latest misadventure. :)
Special Operation Firecracker
For the better part of an hour, the four impending criminals merely sat around the weapon deemed "The Fizzler", admiring its glossy wrapper and envisioning what it was capable of. Banned on most of Gaia, with the exception of Gongaga, Nibelheim, and for some odd reason, Bone Village and Fort Condor, even being seen with such an item was punishable by life at the Desert Prison, or worse yet, serving as the sole attendant at Chocobo Billy's Happy Chocobo Rides during a birthday party.
This was serious stuff, uncharted territory, and the opportunity of a lifetime.
Reno salivated at the prospect of being the first human being every to actually test the limits of "The Fizzler." In a way, he imagined there would be a mighty explosion of elegant, beautiful fire, probably enough to take out the sprinklers before they could ruin his fun and more than enough to be seen for hundreds of miles in all direction.
Sunglasses, he made a mental note. Get sunglasses to watch the flash. And a camera to record it for play by play review later. This was going to be the best mission of his career. With that infamous grin of his, he eyed the frightened guinea pig huddled against the auburn haired female Turk's elbow.
Cissnei shielded the little rodent from the demented Turk's gaze, trying once again to figure out why Rude suggested they needed an actual guinea pig to begin with.
"You can't strap that thing to Sir Squeaksalot and blow him up!" she protested. "This is a 'T' rated fic Reno!"
"Lighten up, 'Nei. Think of this as a golden opportunity for the little guy. He'll get to go where no guinea pig has gone before-"
Reeve flinched at the slap the red haired menace received from the female Turk. That was going to leave a mark.
"Okay," he flinched. "Sir whatever his name is gets to live another day. Still…"
This time, Rude stepped in, looking the tiny rodent over with a skeptical eye.
"I never intended on blowing such a cute fuzzy animal up. Actually," the wheels in his head began to turn as he looked from the rodent to the female Turk and the engineer. "I was thinking of something completely different."
He leaned forward and whispered something to the pair, watching them exchange glances and nod in silence. Without even acknowledging Reno's presence, both engineer and Turk stepped away from the table with the guinea pig, vanishing into Reeve's office.
A good half of an hour later…
Reno wasn't sure if their guinea pig was still a guinea pig. He raised an eyebrow at the cyborg-like creature standing upon its hind legs and sniffing the air with its whiskers, a tiny metallic helmet with infrared goggles emitting a light, barely detectable hum. A tiny bullet proof jacket rested around its body, with tiny metallic microchips wired into the fabric. All he needed was a belt of ammunition and a tiny MK 47 and no one would be messing with him.
Rude blinked, watching the tricked out guinea pig with interest. Either these two had way too much time on their hands, or Tseng hadn't yet explored their full potential as geniuses in disguise.
Reeve pointed to Sir Squeaksalot with a beaming smile. "Behold, the Squeaker Cam."
"Dude, that's the guinea pig equivalent of Rambo yo."
Cissnei held a small handheld computer with a screen on it and typed in a code, watching as the image transferred to a larger screen. Reno's enlarged face appeared on screen in black and white, making him jump in surprise.
"Holy. That's me!"
"Yes," she sighed. "Yes it is."
He tapped the guinea pig's helmet curiously - making the little beast jump in surprise. A laser shot from its helmet, burning a hole in his uniform jacket sleeve.
"What in the hell is this thing yo?" he scrambled back in surprise. "It just fired a laser at me!"
Cissnei smiled. "Well, we had to protect it somehow."
"You gave it a friggin laser! You need a hobby. Basket weaving, knitting, anything but this sort of twisted thing!"
The bald Turk turned away with a snicker, watching the exchange. The day had finally come when Reno was to be replaced by a guinea pig…
"Oh relax. He's a valuable member of the team now," she placed the creature on the ground, watching as it scurried under a desk. Immediately, images of cobwebs and various items appeared on screen, each documented. "Wanna see something even cooler?"
Reno paled as the Turk tapped a button and the guinea pig trotted out from beneath the desk for a treat.
"He responds to sound waves and carrots. He can be used to help us find a suitable location for that thing you guys bought from that illegal fireworks stand."
"Neat. When can we start?"
Reeve smirked, watching the door across the hallway through the crack in the doorframe. "Whenever you want."
"Sweet. Let's do this yo!"
He donned his special gloves and picked up "The Fizzler" as though it were a sacred item not to be touched by human hands. Cissnei just rolled her eyes and studied Sir Squeaksalot, who seemed ready to do this. Why did she feel like this was going to end badly for the poor little critter?
Outside of the Board Room…
Three Turks and a 'deceased' engineer waited behind a vacant secretary's desk, watching the tiny monitor flash as their spy made his rounds.
"You sure about this, 'Nei."
"Yep. Once we get a location, we can actually set that thing to go off."
"Tell the little booger to hurry up then. Hey, is that Scarlet's big toe? Ewwww. Toe fungus!"
The image jounced wildly as the camera stopped to sniff a pair of oversized boots, the conversation taking place above being fed through the headphones.
"No, I do not think the budget should be adjusted to allow for the penguins of Modeoheim to receive benefits due to our Mako Reactors."
A huskier voice responded with a growl. "Screw the penguins. I want more research money to fund Mako energy."
"Actually," Lazard grumbled. "We pay the penguins to keep quiet about this whole thing. If the public knew about some of the things those tuxedo menaces saw regarding those strange flashing lights up there, we'd be fundamentally screwed."
There was a mumble of agreement across the board.
"When you put it that way-" Heidegger began, only to be cut off by 'The Voice'.
"This is ridiculous. We're spending 2.6 billion per year on penguin housing, health care, and fancy sleighs for them! And yet the science budget is only 120 billion? Can't you cut out those other penguins from this to give us more funding?"
"You mean the Turks?" Scarlet laughed in her hideous Kya ha ha fashion. "We cut their funding years ago. The next option is going to be reducing their uniforms to pink vests and rhinestone sapphire pants from Wall Market-"
A foot filled the screen, making Cissnei panic. Scarlet appeared to stiffen, toes stroking the bullet proof jacket of the guinea pig. There was the sound of a chair being pushed back, several actually, and then four sets of eyes fell upon the little critter.
"ALIEN MOUSE!"
The resounding scream made all four spies outside the door wrench their headsets off to salvage what little remained of their hearing.
"Chit chit chit!" Reno watched the furry beast wriggled under the door and head straight for them, the sound of venomous feet behind the door approaching.
Cissnei grabbed the critter and began running for cover, her comrades in hot pursuit.
Cissnei's office…
"That bastard wants to cut our funding even worse! Holy, we'll be collecting cans to make ends meet!" Reno paced back and forth, his jacket swishing with the breeze as Cissnei tended to the frightened guinea pig and Reeve and Rude kept an eye out for any signs of their pursuers.
"Hmmm," Rude wiped the sweat from his brow. "We need to get this situation moving and Tseng's office back. Can't you pick the lock?"
"No way man. He's got it protected pretty good with a Combomatic 8000. Those things suck."
Cissnei knew defeat when she saw it, and this was one of those times. Concluding that the 'alien mouse' was perfectly healthy, she grudgingly turned to her male comrades. "Now what?"
"Well," Reeve sighed. "We could use an emergency release system on that vest. Strap 'The Fizzler' to it, have Squeaksalot carry and plant it in our desired location, release the lever so he can get away, and have the laser light the trail of powder. He stays safe and we get to do something mega cool."
"One," she warned. "Never say mega cool again, Reeve. And two. Unless you all want to wear rhinestone sapphire pants and pink vests, we have no other options."
Outside of Tseng's old office…
She hoped this would work. Triple checking 'The Fizzler' and its holding device for the ten thousandth time, she grudgingly set the rodent upon the ground and stepped away, flipping on the monitor. Reno continued to smirk with excitement as the critter crawled under the newly formed hole in the door thanks to Rude's fist and began their mission. Operation Firecracker was a go.
Seconds passed, the 'Squeaker Cam' picking up a variety of disturbing images that are not appropriate for a 'T' rated fic such as this, or for the minds of certain Turks for that matter. Everything was going well, the bookcase the target for ground zero.
Until a giant boot and dark gray pant leg filled the image, the smirking image of Hollander filling the screen. Reeve screamed in horror, cowering behind an equally stunned Rude, who fought his hardest to enter 'Meditation Mode' while Cissnei and Reno struggled to figure out a back up plan.
Unfortunately, Sir Squeaksalot had his own version of the plan, his furry little body and 'The Fizzler' jetting out through the hole with the unwelcome inhabitant of Tseng's office following with a fishing net and a pair of falconing gloves.
Before the female Turk could intercept him though, he changed direction, scampering across the corridor floor and vanished into the men's restroom much to their horror. "Reno! Go get him right now!"
Hollander rushed by at a lumbering run, lab coat fluttering behind him like some sort of elegant cape.
"Can't 'Nei! It's too dangerous. We'll have to let the little guy figure this out on his own."
Outside of the Men's bathroom, waiting for hope…
There was no hope. Sir Squeaksalot was trapped between the back of the porcelain throne and the enraged, panicked creature known as 'The Voice'. The camera trembled as the beast seemed to ponder his options. How a guinea pig had even climbed up there was still a mystery. But then again, this was no ordinary guinea pig. This was Sir Squeaksalot, Guinea Pig of all guinea pigs.
"Sir Squeaksalot!" Cissnei cried. "Get the hell out of there right now!"
The camera moved frantically, the hiss of a laser being discharged echoing with the sizzle of gunpower and mako powder.
"Come on, Squeaky! Go little guy go!" The toilet rim rushed by, a terrified man shrieking in horror as he swatted at the little beast with a toilet paper roll. And then the splash of a furry beast falling into the bowl, a kamikaze chattering squeak shrilling through the air as he fell.
The screen erupted in a brilliant flash of light, the fading sound of the toilet's flush fading as the camera went dead.
Cissnei paled and watched the static envelope the screen in horrific realization at what she had just witnessed. Reno draped a comforting arm across her shoulder as the others remained speechless. That was the bravest rodent in all of Midgar.
"Death by toilet - who knew?"
"Guys," she warned. "We better start running. Like now!"
Somewhere in Sector Eight, at a site of interest for the Science Department…
Vincent Valentine hated this portion of his assignment. Inspecting Port-A-Johns was not exactly his cup of tea, but it was deemed necessary for a Turk of his caliber. Especially with rumors of savage sewer beasts and nuclear critters surfacing from the public sewer linked to these things nowadays. It was like Christmas every day for Hojo, and if Hojo was happy, the stoic Turk was happy. He never bothered to even ask why a Port-A-John was hooked up to the public sewer system, but hey, who cared right?
"What the-"
The floor leapt beneath his feet and he braced his arms against the wall in horror. And earthquake, in Midgar? What in the hell was going on here? Before he could escape, the plastic door slammed shut, locking at the "In Use" position.
A distant part of him knew, Doomsday had arrived, and the Turks were responsible…
Desert Prison…
Tseng bounced the tiny rubber ball against the cement wall and sighed. When was his trial again? Not soon enough, he concluded, watching the sinister group to the far corner plotting his demise with a bottle of nail polish and some perfume. He shuddered at the thought.
"We interrupt 'The Sounds of Prison' to bring you an urgent bulletin from the Shinra News Network-"
Tseng sat up, watching the screen flicker to an image of the Shinra Building with water and luminous pinks, feisty blues, fiery oranges, crimson reds, elegant greens, and more unusual colors shooting out of nearly every window and door, screaming civilians below mingling amongst terrified employees.
Uh oh. Now what had happened.
"We now join amateur field correspondent Elena with the latest live at Shinra Electric Inc."
"Thanks Hart," the blond woman on the screen acknowledged, pointing to the Shinra Building turned raging waterfall of colors. "As you can see behind me, it is utter chaos here at ground zero where the attack took place."
A screaming Palmer galloped across the street, colliding with a news truck behind her, twitching and muttering something incoherent as he fell.
"Eyewitness reports state that exactly ten minutes ago, there was a rumble from beneath the plates. Amateur video from an unidentifiable source captured this. I must warn you, it is rather disturbing footage for our viewers."
The image of a Port-A-John being fired into the air like a bottle rocket crossed the screen before flicking back to the young reporter.
"Yes folks, what you are witnessing is a Port-A-John turned weapon of mass destruction." She caught sight of a disgruntled, thoroughly soaked Scarlet and Heidegger storming past and moved to intercept them. "Excuse me! Shinra Network News! Can I ask a few questions."
Scarlet pushed her out of the way and continued walking. Heidegger continued to tremble following her lead.
"Never mind. As you can tell folks here are terrified over the recent 'Attack of the toilets as it is being called.' The rumors of plumbers being sent from all over the world is offering little comfort to anyone here at ground zero. Oh! Sir!" She hurried after what appeared to be a brooding man in a midnight blue suit, hair plastered against his pale face as he marched towards the building, clipboard and Death Penalty in hand, toilet paper trailing from his shoe.
"What?" his crimson eyes flared. "Can't you see I'm on my way to murder a few suspects of interest?"
The way he said suspects made her take a step away.
"Is it true that AVALANCHE could have sunk low enough to turn toilets against civilians? What's being done to handle the situation?"
Vincent scowled, looking towards the sliding revolving doors creating a sort of whirlpool effect amidst the whistles and explosions of fireworks being set off, the remnants of several porcelain thrones falling across the sectors in a shower of sparkles.
"Ten thousand toilets erupt in perfect synchronization and you're asking ME what's being done? How in the hell would I know? I rode a Port-A-John halfway to the stratosphere lady! Now, move out of my way so I can figure out who in the hell is responsible for this fiasco!" he stormed off, mentally picturing each of the culprits.
Elena turned back to the cameras.
"There you have it. It is officially Doomsday here in Midgar. This is Elena Delores reporting live from Midgar. We'll bring you further updates as they become available. Until then, beware the wrath of the porcelain gods."
Tseng stood up, momentarily startling the already stunned convicts who regarded the bathroom in terror. He turned to the guard, deadly serious look about him.
"I need to make a phone call."
--
Coming up on One Hundred Tiny Missions:
The aftermath of "Attack of the Killer Toilets..."
Until we meet again,
SageQuill :)