Shockwaves: A Suite Life/Waverly Place Crossover
Part 5:
A short enough while later…
There was a knock on the Timeless Sand's double doors.
Jerry opened them.
He was hoping to see Alex on the other side. He was wrong.
It was T.J. Taylor with a full box of sandwich supplies.
He asked nervously, "is this the Timeless Sand?"
Jerry gave T.J. Taylor a suspicious look.
Jerry asked suspiciously, "what are you up to?"
Justin called out, "don't worry, dad! He was sent by his parents under close observation."
Jerry decided, "then we'll do the same. Welcome to the Timeless Sand."
T.J. walked in and sat down without a word.
He laid down a open crate on one of the tables. It was full of smaller boxes of bread and other various sandwich ingredients.
The present family members of the Russos gathered around:
In a manner equally as uniform as their current collective cautiousness.
Theresa wondered, "you sure he can be trusted?"
Justin assured her, "they weren't as unnaturally carefree as they were the first time we met in person. That's something all right."
Theresa nodded with relief.
T.J. chuckled bittersweetly.
He muttered in deep rage, "after what they did to me?! No. I can't think of anything worse than this torture."
Theresa wondered concerned, "what happened?"
Max and Theresa were starting with restoring inventory.
And... T.J. slowly got up.
He cried out, "I'll show you torture!"
Strangely though?
Nothing happened.
Everyone else stared at T.J. in mixed shock.
He sat down.
Justin realized with partial inner amusement, "they took his powers away."
He smirked.
Max asked confused, "wizards can do that to each other?"
T.J. went on darkly, "you really don't want to know the spell for that: Very advanced stuff. But yeah: Sy parents suppressed my powers back to square one…and Wiz Tech themselves didn't let me in."
Theresa figured, "so you're back to being restricted to a wand?"
She, Max, and Jerry smiled in amusement.
T.J. assumed, "that's one way of putting it. They even started making food by hand instead of by magic to make sure I didn't enchant it without their noticing."
Jerry suggested with self assurance, "maybe we should compare recipes to the Taylors'."
Theresa replied, "good idea."
Justin wondered in disbelief, "they're still not giving you detention?"
T.J. remarked coldly, "detention would be solitary confinement. The therapy they're sending me to at Tribeca Prep is much longer and more humiliating."
Jerry pointed out in understanding, "I know it can be scary, but your parents are just doing what's best for you."
T.J. figured solemnly, "maybe you're right. After all those magic stunts and being isolated at school, I got carried away with the power. And now...I'm lonelier than ever."
T.J. sighed into his hands.
Max wondered, "why is a thinner bread box labeled with our first names?"
T.J. started to leave.
He turned around...when they started staring at him.
T.J. looked taken off guard.
He revealed, "what? I didn't make them! My parents made your favorite sandwiches as a thank you for all you did for them."
He glared annoyedly at them.
He left without another sound.
That is...except for the door slamming shut behind him.
Jerry, Theresa, Justin, and Max smiled to themselves.
Within a movie studio on Long Island, New York…
The walls were painted with abstract patterns of yellow, blue, white, and pink.
This greatly contrasted with a locked filing cabinet styled drawer built into the walls. They were all in stacked rows in arm's reach.
What was more suspicious was that each compartment had a name label with just an initial for a last name. They were also cloaked in camouflage to hide them in plain sight.
Even the handles of the compartments were hidden by only being a few inches outward.
The usual movie equipment were in the exact places you'd expect to find in a cinema company building…along with casts of course.
They were more nervous than most crews though:
As if every breath could be their last if they weren't good enough.
The movie sign styled sign mounted right above the entrance?
It stated in bold the company name SworthCine.
On what seemed to be a production set of an old fashioned French palace throne room?
It was really a familiar trio's office…one on each throne.
Each throne had a purposeful hollowed out set of arms. An organizer and pager were each in one of these holes…as if one slip of a word might slip them out of the public eye.
Gertrude Hollingsworth checked with devious glee, "is it true? Is Alex really missing in action?"
The other two freakishly looked almost exactly like her…except for different clothes and perfume so they could tell the other apart.
One of the Wannabes answered, "yes, miss Sworth."
The other Gertrude or Gigi lookalike pointed out, "with a doctor's note to her television company."
The original Gigi giggled childishly at this piece of news.
Through a creepy text message among themselves?
She declared, "then she won't be the only one out cold. Gigi 2, review and restart operation Black Sphere A.S.A.P. Gigi 3, operation Scarlet Pass is a go."
Gigi 2 got up and snuck her way to the concealed cabinets full of blackmail.
Gigi 3 stayed on her throne, browsing for online IM contacts to get more potential blackmail through online celebrity gossip.
The movie crew's names on their cell phones and even some Tribeca Prep teachers' names?
They strangely matched some of those hidden compartments' labels.
At a salvage yard in Ohio…
A green wooden fence surrounded the perimeter.
Unlike most junkyards though? This one seemed to attract a much bigger crowd of customers in the most unorthodox manner.
Despite so much junk coming and going, there was much more piles of usable machinery verses broken parts.
A bunch of young and fit people were doing metal work to reassemble broken parts…even the ones seemingly beyond help.
A secondary bunch was drawing up simple blueprints for the builders and operating the working machines that brought the broken ones in, which of course consisted of the smarter majority of the staff. Hence, every piece, originally with or without hope, was being sold to whatever company or individual paid for service.
Sometimes, there were even custom orders where these people would transform whatever extra scraps were available into refrigerators, crowbars, cars, or anything else made mostly of metal components.
Naturally, everyone smelled here.
But... Now all the above can spend well enough to ward it off whenever they went elsewhere.
In fact? Some of the other junkyards went as far as attempting to buy out this place just so they can stay in business.
That is… Until one of the owner's many siblings/workers, adopted or otherwise, got the idea to buy them out instead as subsidiaries of their salvaging company.
Unfortunately? Some of the other salvaging yards started getting the same ideas.
However... For where it all started?
There was a certain junkyard, with a sign made of spare reshaped metal bolted to a metal stand.
The sign was between a small collection of entryways and exits...and it said clearly Metal and Fink.
One idea of inspiration from a near dry well of intellect.
The owner lived in a small house that was entirely made of metal and machinery…right outside of Metal and Fink.
A bizarrely familiar looking face was finishing a late lunch in a tub.
His hair was slightly straighter to the point of flatter curls. He had contact lenses instead of glasses that matched his eyes. Even his digits were clear of excess grease and grime.
One of his parents called from downstairs, "Woody!"
Woody Fink responded kind of loudly, "what is it?"
He got out of the tub and headed directly downstairs for the ground floor.
His other parent deduced, "there's a order from famous activist Miss Fitzpatrick for inner water treatment components between official water treatment plants and sewers…while at the same time connecting personal human related water resources within living space with the same technology."
Woody checked nervously, "what are components?"
His parents sighed in a tired kind of annoyance.
One of them suggested in irritation, "we're going to get you a dictionary."
The other added, "just think of it as a transportation system for migrating dwarf aliens."
Woody nodded in his twisted understanding.
He smiled.
Woody figured, "so I guess I go around and tell the planning crew like I usually do?"
The first parent responded, "of course."
Woody nodded and left the small metal house.
The second parent remarked, "maybe we should turn his homework assignments into science fiction form to improve his average."