Operation: TRANSPORTATIONAL
(The Reason Anyone Now Sees Peculiar Outrageous Race Trucks Around Town Is Only Now Answered Lightly)…my first KND fic.
Chapter 1 of 2: The Deal
Late one night, the five members of the Kids Next Door organization were asleep in their treehouse stronghold. Moonlight leaked through the windows of each kid's custom-decorated room. Not a sound was heard, except for each kid's snoring.
Then, far off, a truck engine could be heard. It slowly got louder and louder. Then a second engine could be heard, then a third! A roar of engines was increasing in volume with every passing second.
A small, African-American girl, codename "Number Five", was the first to wake up. Her eyes observed her dimly lit bedroom. She immediately heard the engines outside her bedroom.
"Huh?" uttered Number Five, as she sat up in bed. Her entire room was beginning to vibrate from the noise. "Whoa!" she cried as she fell out of her bed.
Down the hall, a boy with blonde bangs and an Australian accent sat up in bed. He glanced up at his "Numbah 4" license plate hanging above his bed. It was shaking back and forth, and then it suddenly fell and landed on his head.
"OW! What the…?" muttered Number Four, who looked around his room and saw things falling off his shelves. His boxing gloves, mouthpieces and books were tumbling into his own personal boxing ring. Even his punching bag was swinging to and fro. To top it all off, the truck engines were still getting louder.
Nearby, a little Asian girl was shaken awake by the oncoming commotion outside. Number Three tried to sit up, but while she was asleep, she had gotten tangled up in her oversized sweater. She got herself untangled and fell abruptly into a giant rainbow monkey doll. She looked around and saw stuffed animals falling all around her.
"What's going on?!" she cried. But the roar of the engines outside was too loud for Number Three to hear herself.
Elsewhere, Number Two sat up in bed. The pudgy boy grabbed his goggles and put them on. He could see and feel everything vibrating and he could hear incredibly loud truck engines from outside.
"Hmmm," said Number Two. "Four by fours, stick shifts, monster trucks? Who could be driving those things at this hour?"
Number One, in the next room, was thinking the same thing. A Latino boy with a head shaped a lot like Arnold from "Hey Arnold" was looking out his bedroom window. Racing down the road in front of the treehouse was a convoy of large trucks. Pickups, SUVs, Baja trucks, and other 4x4s were zooming down the road only feet away from the treehouse. Some of the trucks had really outlandish features, like custom paneling, bright paint jobs, and oversized spoilers and exhausts. Their engines were loud enough to wake the dead, yet Number One noticed that no other neighbors were awake at this hour. (This was no surprise. Fans of the show may have noticed that whenever things happened at the treehouse during the night, there were no neighbors around to notice. The neighborhood must have some heavy sleepers!)
Eventually, the line of trucks ended, and their engines died away in the distance. Before Number One turned around, he noticed a small, old pickup truck sputtering down the road. The engine sounded ancient and rundown. A young man's head popped out of the side window and yelled, "Wait, you guys! Come back! Wait for me!" The beat-up truck soon puttered off out of sight.
The next morning, after a big breakfast, the Kids Next Door sat around a projector screen in the living room. Number One was talking as he worked the projector.
"I'm sure you all know about the events of last night," he said.
"I'll say," said Number Five. "I couldn't sleep a wink after all that racket."
"I'd sure like to like meet the creeps who caused all that," muttered Number Four.
"Well, fortunately," said Number One, who clicked the projector switch. "Surveillance cameras caught these images last light of what appears to be a new fad known as illegal street truck racing. Slower and bulkier than cars, but just as stylish."
The photo stills displayed custom trucks zooming down the road at a moderate speed.
"The people inside," continued Number One, who stopped at a photo of a guy driving a truck. "…appear to be high school and college drop outs who don't have enough money to buy and alter sports cars, so they use trucks instead."
"Whoa," said Number Four as he saw a picture of a huge monster truck rolling down the street. "Who's THAT guy?"
Number One cleared his throat. "That, apparently, is the ring leader of this group of drivers. See how his truck leads the pack?"
"Wow!" said Number Two. "Can you imagine the tire swings we could use with those? I wish I had a truck like that dude!" A thought bubble appeared over Number 2's head. It showed Number 2 driving a monster truck and running over cars and trash cans and things.
Number One snapped him out of it. "Uh, let me remind you, Number Two, that this 'dude' is responsible for making us fall out of our beds in the middle of the night just to bug us."
"Yeah, but at least I landed on a rainbow monkey," squeaked Number Three.
"Yes, well," continued Number One. "The computer predicts there is a fifty-fifty chance the truckers will return tonight, so I suggest we stay awake tonight and see if they come."
So, that night, the five kids stood on the sidewalk with flashlights and a bullhorn.
"Y'know," yawned Number One. "Maybe it would've been a good idea to take a few naps during the day."
"What time is it?" asked Number Three.
"Uh…" said Number Five as she looked at her watch. "About one-thirty."
"Man!" uttered Number Four. "When are those cruddy drivers gonna get here?"
"Oh, man, I can't wait!" said Number Two. All day he had been thinking about those trucks and their decorated hubcaps and license plates. They were unlike anything he had ever seen. Designing stuff like that would be a mechanic's dream come true, and Number Two was already brighter than the average mechanic.
"Yeah, I can't wait either," muttered Number Four. "I can't wait to give them a piece of my mind for wrecking my room with their motors and their…"
"Ssshhh," said Number One. "Listen."
A very faint rumble could be heard. It sounded like thunder, but it also sounded man-made. A cloud of dust could be seen down the road. Within moments, dark vehicles roared over the hill far away and traveled down the road at a high speed.
"Here they come," said Number One. He turned on the bullhorn in his hand.
The huge monster truck was in the lead. The other race trucks wisely stayed behind it. The loud engines were beginning to vibrate their nearby surroundings. All the kids put their hands to their ears as the monster truck came closer and closer.
When it was just about to pass them, Number One grabbed the bullhorn and shouted, "Hold it right there, mister! We'd like to have a word with you!"
With a screech of the tires, the monster truck stopped. All the other trucks slammed on their brakes too.
Before any of the kids could say anything, the driver's door opened partway, and a boot kicked out a rope ladder that unrolled to the ground. A figure climbed down the ladder between the front and rear tires. The driver turned around and walked up to the five kids. The Kids Next Door observed a tall, thin person, about 18 years old, wearing a baseball cap, sunglasses, jeans, boots, and a long-sleeve shirt.
"Who are you?" asked Number One. He noticed some of the other truck drivers getting out of their vehicles and walking over to the monster truck driver.
"My name's A.J.," said the monster truck driver, in a voice that sounded a lot like Michael Jackson. "Looks like you kids are up a little bit past your bedtime, hmm?" A.J. and the other drivers snickered.
Ignoring the remark, Number One took off his shades and glared at A.J. "We are the Kids Next Door and we have a few complaints to say about you."
"Oh?" responded A.J., who was slightly amused.
"Yeah," blurted Number Four. "Just how long do you and your other drivers plan on driving by this place at night?"
A fellow driver came up behind A.J. "We like this route, for your information."
"Yep," agreed A.J. "Wide lanes, big sidewalks, double-yellow line…this road is just perfect for me and the gang to go cruising on."
"Yeah," muttered Number Five. "And for waking us up in the middle of the night!"
"Aww," mocked A.J. "Did we wake the little kiddies from their nappie-wappies?" A.J. and the other drivers laughed.
"Hey! That's not nice!" exclaimed Number Three.
"Agreed," said Number One. He saw Number Four take an angry step towards A.J., so Number One placed his hand on Number Four's shoulder to stop him.
"So," continued Number One. "All you do is drive around all night?"
"And race," said A.J. All of the other drivers cheered in agreement. "All of us race our trucks in different parts of the city, and right now this spot is our current favorite."
"Yeah, we race all the time," said a small voice to the side. Everyone turned and saw a small, slightly nerdy teen running up to the group. He was about A.J.'s age and wore a T-shirt, pants, and tennis shoes. Number One recognized the guy as the one who drove the old, run-down pickup truck last night.
"Aw, shuddup, Joey," snapped A.J. "Like you'll ever win anyone of our races. I don't see why you're even here."
"I…I just wanna race."
"What, in that old jalopy you call a truck? Ha!" laughed A.J. "Why don't you just stay at home where you belong?"
"Look!" interrupted Number Five, who readjusted her cap. "All we're asking is that you stop driving your trucks down our street!"
"Well, too bad," argued A.J. "We can drive on any street we want, and we just happen to like yours the best."
Before the argument got too heated, Number One suddenly had an idea. "What if we make you a deal?"
"A deal?" questioned A.J. "What kind of a deal?"
Number One explained. "The five of us will…"
"Five?" asked A.J.
Number One looked around and only saw four kids in front of A.J., including himself. "Where's Number Two?"
"Hey guys!" shouted Number Two. He was crouched down next to a vehicle that had painted flames on the hood and sides. "Check out the paint job on this El Camino!"
"Number Two, will you get over here?!" shouted Number One. Once Number Two was back with his friends, Number One continued where he left off. "Anyway, my idea is that the five of us will challenge you to a truck race. If you win, you get to stay on this street and race on it. But if we win, you all go find somewhere else to race. So, do we have a deal?"
A.J. thought for a moment. Were these kids serious? A.J. took another look at them. Yes, they looked very serious.
"Alright, it's a deal." A.J. shook Number One's hand. "We'll start right here at midnight tomorrow."
"Actually," interrupted Joey. "Since it's about two o'clock in the morning right now, it should be midnight 'tonight'. And don't you think you're being a little too hard on them? I mean, they're a little young to be driving."
A.J. turned to the Kids Next Door. "Could you excuse us for a moment?" A.J. abruptly dragged Joey off to the side. The two of them argued for a few minutes. Finally, A.J. angrily pointed to Joey's truck. Hanging his head, Joey slowly walked back to his truck.
"What happened?" whispered Number Three.
"I think A.J. just kicked him out of the group," answered Number One.
A.J. walked back to the kids. "Sorry about that. Um, you all can drive, right?"
"Right," answered the kids.
"And you all have a truck, right?"
"We certainly will," answered Number Two.
"Okay. We'll see you all in about twenty-two hours." A.J. walked back to rope ladder. "I can't wait to see what your little go-kart will look like." A.J. climbed the ladder as her laughed. Everyone turned on their engines and drove off down the street…except for Joey, who made a U-turn and drove down the road in the other direction.
"Okay, Kids Next Door," announced Number One. "I suggest we get some sleep. Tomorrow, we've got a truck to build."
