Hi. So I watched Chip N' Dale Rescue Rangers when I was a kid, and the recent movie sparked that old love. I'm not used to this fandom but don't mind me. I'm just dipping my toes. Maybe I'll finish this if it actually gets read. With that being said, here's the full summary:

Fed up with his brother's antics getting him almost killed every day, Chip suspends Dale from the Rescue Rangers until he learns to stop goofing off. To Dale, suspension feels like a death sentence until he meets a new chipmunk friend in the park and claims him as his new best friend. While the rest of the Rangers struggle to solve a case involving missing pets, Chip can't help but feel a hint of jealousy toward this new chipmunk. Will his jealousy cloud his ability to solve this befuddling case? Better yet, will it help him realize that he needs Dale more than Dale needs him?

The morning sun's rays scintillated through a curtain that was actually a leaf, stretching across the bedroom shared by two chipmunk brothers. A streak of light rested on the furry face of the chipmunk on the top bunk, who instinctively grumbled and rolled to the other side.

Distantly, the heavenly scent of walnut pancakes hung in the air, and the chipmunk resting on the bottom bunk twitched his chocolate chip nose, opening his eyes with a smile to start the day. He stood up and stripped out his night clothes, dawning a brown jacket with a fuzzy trimmed collar, nothing underneath. His fur and coat were enough to keep him warm.

"Rise and shine, Dale," he called cheerfully to the chipmunk up top in a high-pitched voice.

Dale flopped on his other side, replying, "Five more minutes, Chip."

A comic book fell out of his bed amongst the shuffling, landing right on Chip's face. Suddenly outraged, Chip crumpled up the comic book and scaled the bed to rip the blanket off Dale.

"Were you up late reading these stupid comic books again?" Chip asked.

"They're not stupid," Dale defended through a wide yawn.

Chip face-palmed. "You're going to be a mess today!"

"I will not." Dale sat up.

"Will to!"

"Will not!"

"Will to!"

Dale shoved his distinct red nose against Chip's. "Will not!"

"Whatever. I'm going to get some walnut pancakes. Be in the kitchen in ten minutes," Chip ordered, hopping off the bed and scurrying to the kitchen.

He pretended he was over it and wouldn't let this spat disturb his morning, but truthfully it was troubling him. His younger brother's antics have been at their peak lately. Dale's differences inspired him when they were little, but as young adults, it was getting harder and harder to cope with someone who lived only in the clouds.

So irresponsible, so childish.

Letting comic books and fantasy disturb a whole night's rest was one thing, but his goofing off could get him seriously injured on their missions. Or…killed. That thought alone churned Chip's stomach as he entered the kitchen.

Dale picked up his wrinkled comic book with a huff and attempted to straighten out the creases. To be straightforward, he had, in fact, stayed up late to read Kablamo-Man. But he only missed about two hours of sleep. That's not too bad, right? Chip didn't understand his hyper-fixational needs when it came to this stuff, and he never would. Reading comic books was a "childish" hobby in Chip's eyes. Suddenly, his mind was on a different topic, and he looked down at the comic book to admire Kablamo-Man's super getup. His mind often switched subjects rapidly; it was beyond his control.

After ten minutes or so of getting ready, Dale reunited with his friends at the dining table. He loved his friends so much. They were what made the Rescue Rangers so diverse and unique. There was Gadget, a blonde mouse with a high IQ and knack for inventing, Monterrey Jack, an older mouse who has been on more adventures than Indiana Jones, and his little pal Zipper, a fly who couldn't put many words together without his buzzing wings overlapping his speech. And, of course, there was Dale's best friend, Chip, who led this fine unit.

Chip and Dale fought relentlessly, but he admired Chip and his leadership. He was like Kablamo-Man…if Kablamo-Man wore a fedora…and yelled a lot…and hit people over the head. But he was like a superhero, the way he tried to make the best out of every situation and never gave up. Dale wished he was like him. Maybe he would get bopped on the head less.

"I thought we could head to the police station first thing after breakfast and see what kind of cases we can pick up," Chip offered.

"Ooh, can we take my new battery-operated toy car I found in the dump? I tweaked it to go ten times faster than the average toy," Gadget asked.

"Wouldn't the Ranger Plane get us there faster, tough?" Chip asked.

"Please, Chip?" Gadget asked with big eyes.

Dale noticed Chip blushing beneath his hat. Typical. "Oh, sure. We can take the car."

The Rangers zipped by the streets of New York in Gadget's new car, dodging people's feet and other animals. Chip held onto his fedora while Dale held back his breakfast, both in the back seat cringing in unison at the car's speed. Monterrey, Gadget, and Zipper, however, were having a blast. Both mice were hooping and hollering as Zipper clung to Monty's jacket. That was until the car started going slower and slower to a gradual halt.

"Uh oh," Gadget said, removing her goggles.

"What's the problem, Gadget?" Monterrey asked.

"I didn't count on the new modified car parts to run the batteries down so quickly. Silly me," the inventor replied.

Dale leaned out the side of the car, his face turning green. "At least you know now."

Gadget hopped out and popped the hood of the car. "Preciously. I'll just have to find stronger batteries. In the meantime, we'll have to push this back to headquarters."

"Push?" the boys echoed in unison.

Gadget didn't reply; she was already getting a hold of the car and ready to shove ahead. Chip, Monterrey, and Zipper sighed and rolled their sleeves up. Dale stood on the curb, looking out across the street. He couldn't believe his eyes. A brand new comic shop was there, and they had the latest Kablamo-Man issue! It looked more extensive and more colorful than his favorite shop in town. Perhaps he could sneak a peak through the window while the rest of the Rangers are planning how to push the car home.

Dale ensured the road was clear, noticing that the digital crosswalk sign was blinking. The countdown started from thirty. He could make it. He zipped across the paved crossing on all fours, so excited that his tongue was sticking out like a dog.

"Okay, Rangers, ready to push?" Chip asked. He blinked once he recognized only three voices responded. "Wait, where's Dale?"

Dale, halfway through the crosswalk, suddenly halted and found himself tripping. He felt something sticky on his foot, turning to see it encased in bubblegum. Not good at all. Fearfully, he turned to the countdown. Fifteen seconds. Fifteen seconds to get out of the mess before…

"Dale! What are you doing?" his brother called from the other side.

"Help! I'm stuck!" Dale cried.

The Rangers gasped as they pieced together the situation in which Dale found himself.

"I'm coming, Dale!" Chip exclaimed.

As the leader struggled to devise an immediate plan, Zipper buzzed over to their stuck teammate, yanking on his red Hawaiian shirt as hard as he could. Dale tried to pull his foot out with the same force as Zipper, but the two could not free it.

"Chip!" Gadget called. Chip turned to find the mouse throwing a child's pair of art scissors she retrieved from her tool bag.

The leader caught the tool and charged into the street, shouting, "Rescue Rangers, away!"

Eight seconds.

Chip attempted to snip the strand of gum, but the dull blades seemed to get caught. "Come on, come on."

"Hurry, Chip!" Dale squealed as he glanced back at the time.

Five seconds.

"It's stuck, too!" Chip returned.

"Then save yourselves," Dale pleaded.

Not looking down from the scissors, Chip said, "I'd never leave you, dummy."

Zipper buzzed in agreement, saluting the brothers.

Chip frantically surveyed his surroundings, noticing there was a taxi before them, seconds away from driving once the light turned green, and Chip hatched an idea. "I've got it!"

He hooked his arms underneath his brother and, with Zipper's help, pulled Dale as hard as they could, stretching the gum to a thinner strand of goo. The lights changed signals, and the taxi started to pull forward, just overtop of the Rangers.

"Taxi!" Chip called, heaving the two up and clutching onto the bumper.

The taxi built up some speed, stretching the gum farther and farther until it ultimately snapped. There was still gum stuck to Dale's foot, but they could worry about that later. Now they were cruising down 37th street back to Central Park.

"Zipper, tell the others that we'll meet them back home," Chip ordered.

The fly gave a salute and disappeared into the mass of cars.

The chipmunks scurried to the top of the taxi, and Chip studied his brother, clutching his shirt. "Dale, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I think so," Dale responded distantly.

"Good," Chip sighed. Suddenly, he bonked Dale on the head so hard that he could see birds flitting around his head. "What were you thinking, you big dummy? You could have been street pizza!"

Dale looked down in dismay, knowing at this point in his life that that question was rhetorical. And a good thing that was. If Chip knew that Dale had crossed the street to look at comics, he'd get another bonk on the head. Next, he'd be seeing stars. "I'm sorry, Chipper. Honest."

Chip furrowed his brow and crossed his arms, leaning against the taxi sign above the car and looking ahead. "Well, sorry isn't cutting it anymore, Dale."

"What do you mean?" Dale asked.

Yet Chip had checked out, his gaze glued to their tree in the distance with a tight, irate stare that refused to meet Dale's. Dale looked away at the passing buildings, blinking out hot tears that threatened to slide down his furry face.

Chip slammed the door to their home, causing Dale to flinch. The older brother crossed his arms, tapping his foot as fast as a rabbit's. Dale could tell by this display that he was in for an earful; Chip only tapped his foot like that when he struggled to control his temper or solve a befuddling riddle. And something told him that this didn't involve a riddle in today's daily newspaper.

"Dale, I've had it!" Chip fumed in his high-pitched voice.

"I promise I'll try harder next time, Chip. Please don't be mad," Dale begged.

"No, because there won't be a next time. I'm suspending you from the Rescue Rangers. Until you can prove that you're done living in your head, I'll let you back in," Chip said.

"Suspended? You can't do that!" Dale said, his brow furrowed.

Chip adjusted his hat with a smirk. "Oh, yes, I can. I lead this group, so I decide who joins and leaves."

"This isn't fair! You and I started this team. We're Chip N' Dale. Without you, I'd just be… N' Dale," Dale said, confusing himself.

Chip rolled his eyes and face-palmed. "That was before you got dumber!"

Dale's lips quivered, his tail tucked between his legs. Through a broken voice, he said, "But I've always been this way. I can't control my mind, Chip."

"Then I guess you'll never join the group again," Chip said, crossing his arms and turning away.

Before Dale could shed a tear, the door busted open, and their friends entered.

"Heya, pallies! We're back," Monterrey called.

Gadget ran up and wrapped Dale in a tight hug around his neck. "Oh, Dale, that was a close one. Are you okay?"

"No," Dale said faintly, his nose red wrinkling up. He pulled away from his friend and found refuge in his bedroom, slamming the door.

What once was a sad expression on Gadget's face turned to one of an angry scowl. "What did you say to him, Chip?"

"Yeah, you should be happy that you and Zipper saved him," Monterrey chimed in.

"At the cost of our lives!" Chip debated. "That dummy has nearly killed himself and us one too many times. I've suspended him from missions so he can get a hold of himself."

The three gasped.

"Golly, Chip. Don't you think that's a little harsh?" Gadget asked.

"I can't help it, you guys. He's my brother, and I'm sick of stressing over not being able to save him. I thought today was going to be one of those days. If he would just think…" Chip stopped, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets.

"Did you tell the lad that?" Monty asked.

Chip shrugged. "No…"

"Why not?" Zipper buzzed.

Chip's body language told the rest that he was uncomfortable. "I don't know, guys. Look, this is only temporary. Once Dale learns to stop goofing off, I'll let him back in. Okay?"

Defeatedly, solemnly, his friends nodded.