Thank you to everyone who reviewed, I'm grateful to you. This story was my first serious Biker Mice fic, albeit, not the first I ever posted.
Disclaimer: I don't own BMFM, sadly.
Chapter 2: the taste of mice
The hissing grew louder the closer the cage got to the clear box. Through the bars, one could make out green slit-eyes and gleaming sharp white teeth. The creature lunged against the cage's sides, fighting to get out. The scuffle revealed thick brown fur, pointed ears, a long tail, long whiskers-
Oh my god, Throttle said in disbelieving horror. It's a cat. The son of a bitch brought a cat. His mind whirled, frantically trying to come up with a plan. They had nothing; no weapons, no bikes, nothing to fight with. Just tiny claws and teeth that would barely make a dent in that thick coat.
Vinnie gulped audibly as a paw edged with deadly claws slashed out. Bros, just so you know, you guys are my best friends, and even if you aren't by blood, you are my family as far as I'm concerned.
Same here, brother, Modo said softly, not taking his one eye from the cage hovering above them. Never thought it would end like this.
We're not done yet, Throttle said fiercely. When he'd first made Modo and Vinnie his friends, he had promised himself that he would never give up, no matter what those stinking fish threw at him, as long as his brothers were alive. They were all he had. If we can distract it long enough, I'll try to Mindwalk with it.
You sure about that? Vinnie asked worriedly. Animal mindwalks were notoriously difficult, sometimes even subsuming the walker in the instincts the animal couldn't control.
No, but we got any other options? Throttle said as Limburger reached to open the cage door. On my mark, flank both sides while I charge. The other mice nodded grimly, gearing up for what may be their last fight. We're with you bro, Modo said.
To the end, Vincent said, moving to stand beside his brother.
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Limburger basked in his moment of glory. Finally, finally, those bothersome mice would be dead, and the last little hitch in his plans for the destruction of Chicago would be gone. No one would be left to oppose him. He looked fondly at the rocking cage in his hands. "Now, now, don't be so eager," he admonished the feline. "Take your time hunting them down, I want to enjoy this show for as long as you can drag it out. That's right," he leaned over the box, "these Earth felines like to play with their food. Sometimes for hours."
"The camera is ready and rolling," Karbunkle said, patting the device. "This film will go for thousands on the Plutarkian market."
"Indeed, a movie for the ages," Limburger said as he reached to open the cage door. "And our frenzied furry actor will take center stage. Let the hunt begin." The cat snarled and hissed as the door swung wide, springing out from the small cage to the box below. It landed behind the three mice, spun around, and lunged for the Plutarkian's face. The fish fought to peel the enraged cat off him, Karbunkle scrambling to help.
Vinnie couldn't help his loud squeaks of laughter. Modo and Throttle stared at him incredulously. What? The white mouse wheezed. You can't look at that and tell me it's not funny!
Only you, Vincent, Throttle said shaking his head.
"Confound you, you flea-bitten feline! Karbunkle! What is the meaning of this?!" The Plutarkian shouted after the cat was none-too-gently ripped off his face by Fred the Mutant. Fred was now screaming in ecstasy as the cat started slashing at him while he carried it back to the box.
Karbunkle looked rather reluctant to speak. "Um, well, your over-ripeness, it appears that your odiferous odor had attracted the feline's hunting instincts."
"Hunting instincts?"
"Cats like to eat fish," the scientist said somewhat sheepishly. "I suggest we leave the room, so as not to distract the feline. We'll still have it all on film."
"So be it," the alien huffed. "But this had better be a blood bath, or I'll have that cat skinned!" He stomped out of the room to get a new mask, followed by the scientist. Fred shoved the hissing cat back into the clear plastic box, slamming the heavy lid down. "It was lots of fun, we'll do this again soon," he said cheerfully. The fat creature hurried to follow after its master, accidentally knocking the camera off its angle.
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The mice tensed as the animal recovered from its rough handling. The small cat got back to its feet, examining one paw at a time. It flexed its claws out, scraping any remnants of the Plutarkian's blood off onto the box's side. Wide green eyes then turned to examine its surroundings, landing on the transformed mice.
This is it, Throttle said. Get ready, this thing's proved its fast and nasty.
Very nasty, Modo said.
Just hope its not hungry, Vinnie said as he shifted positions. The cat tracked their movements, its tail beginning to twitch. It then surprised them, lying down gracefully on its paws and dropping its head down. It just looked at them, making no other aggressive moves. It even made a soft chirping sound, as if encouraging them to think it meant no harm.
Never seen a cat do that before, Modo said. He slowly began to approach it.
What are you doing? Throttle said.
Checking something, Modo said. If it's got a collar, maybe it's got an owner.
What difference does that make? Vinnie said. Cats eat mice with or without an owner.
If its domesticated, maybe its trained to not attack other animals, the grey mouse argued. He crept closer, ready to dodge a deadly swipe any minute. Hesitantly he reached out his metal paw and stroked the dark brown fur. The cat began to purr low in its chest, leaning into his touch. He found himself smiling, scratching it under its chin and jaw. Aw, you're a good kitty, aren't you? Good kitty, he crooned. C'mon guys, he's friendly.
Maybe to you, Vinnie said nervously.
What, are you chicken?
Who you callin' chicken?! The white mouse came over, followed by an exasperated Throttle. Both of you are insane, the leader chided. This thing could just be playing with us, waiting until we think we're safe and then attack.
Modo dug his paws deeper into the soft fur, making the cat purr even louder. This little guy? Naw, he's a good cat, see?
Vinnie started petting the feline as well, making the cat arch toward him. You know, he's not so bad.
Throttle started petting as well, starting on the shoulder and under the neck. Doesn't smell like a stray, but there's no mark for a collar. Maybe from the pound?
Awfully social conscious of Fish-face, Vinnie said. He glanced over at his bro. Still want to Mindwalk him?
Throttle thought a minute. Bigger, stronger, and proven to have a hate on for Plutarkians. But still dangerous, even for the trained Mindwalker to try. Useful as he'd be, I'd rather not do it if I don't have to-
Suddenly the cat stood up, the mice scrambling to put some distance between it and them. It ignored their actions and paced the edges of the box, staring at the seams and cracks of the container. When it reached the lid's handle, the cat sat down, staring up at it as if studying. It began to push up the lid with its paws. When that failed, it started pushing with its head, barely able to lift it out of its groove. The cat hissed and repositioned itself, going up on its hind legs and pushing hard with its head. The lid finally lifted enough so that if it squeezed a bit, the cat could escape. Yet it sat back down on its haunches, an almost considering look on its face.
What is he up to? Modo asked.
Don't know, Vinnie replied. He could get out if he wanted to, what's stopping hi-AAHHHH!! The cat had suddenly pounced, grabbing the white mouse in its jaws and racing back over to the lid. The other two immediately followed, Modo and Throttle both grabbing the cat's tail and trying to pull it to a stop. But the cat would have none of it and kept going, until it reached the latch and began to push up.
Vinnie proved he would die a smart-ass as he shouted, I take back every nice thing I said about you, you damn cat!
The feline got the lid high enough to escape once more, leaned forward--and almost gingerly let go of Vinnie, dropping him outside the box. The white mouse landed with a sharp yell, most of the wind knocked out of him by the impact. They could see him through the clear plastic, wincing at the landing.
Vinnie! Modo cried.
Talk to us, bro, c'mon! Throttle shouted.
Winded, not dead, Vinnie groaned. And not deaf either, so lighten up on the volume button.
You okay?
Might had twisted my ankle-er, paw? Whatever. He turned to glare at the cat. What in the hell were you thinking? You almost killed me! Of all the nerve, I thought you were trying to eat me! I can't believe I said you weren't that bad.
Throttle stared at the cat that was now staring at his grey furred bro. Oh hell. Its tail twitched. Modo, hold still!
The cyborg cocked his head in confusion at his friend. What for?
You're about to have a bumpy ride.
Wha--WHOA! The cat had snatched him up, repeating its actions from before. Modo, actually knowing what was going on, landed much better than his younger bro. Gah! He rubbed a spot on his bruised tail, Well that was fun.
Throttle just looked at the green eyed cat that was now looking at him expectantly. Yeah, yeah, I'm ready, lets--GOAHHH!! Even if you were prepared for it, having sharp jaws clamp onto the back of your neck is still scary as hell. The jump went well, but the cat's tail got caught as it tried to clear the lid. The tan mouse nearly went deaf as the feline screeched around him. Two sharp tugs got it free of the box and the cat set him down on the ground, whimpering as it examined its slightly bent tail.
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