It was a beautiful spring-Sunday in a fair city called Chicago. People were
enjoying the sunny weather outside in parks and everyone was basically
having a wonderful day. Well, at least almost everyone...
"Why me? What have I done to deserve such a dreadful life? Why won't those darn rodents just leave me alone?!" Lawrence Limburger was sitting behind his desk in his office or, more appropriately put, in what was left of his old office after the biker mice from Mars had visited him a half an hour earlier. Still, Limburger was somewhat happy about the fact that the building was still upright.
"Uh, maybe it's 'cos youse is trying to destroy Chicago 'n them mize don't like it", Greasepit suggested, holding his little red cap in his right hand.
"Greasepit, my dear, dear boy, you're obviously not as dumb as I thought you were", Limburger said, with his usual ingratiating smile on his face. "...you're even dumber...Karbunkle!!"
Karbunkle crashed his way to Limburger's office in an elevator that destroyed almost half of the still-intact floor of the room. Like always, he knew exactly what Limburger wanted, so he had the Transporter with him.
"Um, you bellowed, your reeking cheesiness?" the scientist asked while fiddling with the Transporter's control panel. He knew what was coming: a new super-villain.
"I need to get rid of those meddling mice right now! And for good this time! How am I supposed to ship this planet to Plutark when those biker bunnies are continuously after my behind? I need a real hard-gore mouse catcher, and I need them now. Someone who has the skill that apparently none of my trusted men has. In other words, I need someone who won't FAIL!!!" Limburger screamed at Karbunkle, who tried to avoid the horrible stink by holding his nose. The horrible stench filled the room and made the windows crack.
"Yes, I know exactly what you're getting at, Sir. And I have the solution right here." The mad doctor punched the last button on the panel and the Transporter booth began to glow. "Mister Limburger, I'd like you to meet the marvel of Plutarkian gene-engineering, Pain!"
After the smoke had cleared, out of the Transporter stepped a 5'10'' woman. She had the features of a perfect pedigree Siamese cat. Her sleek fur was white and her long, white hair had a silverish tint. Her eyes also had a touch of silver in them. She was wearing a black leather top and shorts, with a gun belt resting on her hip. In addition to that, she had black high- heeled boots, a black glove in her right hand and a black-and-silver collar tightly around her neck.
"It's Miss Never-Ending Pain to you, melon-head", she hissed at the doctor. "Now, what do I own this pleasure, Mister...?"
"It's Limburger, Lawrence Limburger." Limburger rose from his seat and approached the villain with his right hand extended. The feline-female didn't take it. Limburger casually let his arm fall to his side. "And I have a proposition for you, um, Miss Pain. You see, I have a slight problem with some rodents..."
"WHAT?!" she yelled, grapping the collar of his purple suit. "So you got me here to deal with pests! Listen, Mister Plutarkian, if you have a problem with rats, you should get an exterminator."
"Actually I have called the X-Terminator...and he has failed...several times..." Limburger wheezed the words out. "I'm talking about mice, Martian mice to be exact."
"Ah, now that's something I like to hear." Pain released Limburger and walked away from him. "So, Martians...How many are there and when do you want them dead?" Suddenly, with one graceful leap, she jumped on to Limburger's desk. Huge claws came out of her palms and she hit them hard on to the desk's surface. "'Cos I just love to slice mice", she said with an evil grin.
"Now that's what I love to hear. And I already have a plan ready for you, my dear. A plan that will not fail", Limburger said with an even bigger grin than Pain.
**************************************************
Night was falling over Chicago. The streets were empty and quiet. But one building was anything but quiet: the Last Chance Garage. Owned by Charlene Davidson, the garage shared its light and heavy metal music with the entire block. But it's not that the empty buildings really minded...
"Will you PLEASE just turn that thing off!!" Charley screamed, waving a wrench in her right hand, and pointing at the radio with her left. Her blue blouse and jeans were completely covered in motor oil.
"No way, Charley-girl, it's Sweet Georgy Brown, you know he plays the best stuff!" Throttle yelled, barely able to hear what he was saying.
"Yeah, and besides, you just CAN'T watch hockey without some mood music!" Modo shouted, at the same time pounding his left foot to the beat of the song, almost causing the concrete to break.
The guys had arrived at the garage in the late afternoon, right after their big fight with Chicago's only residential Plutarkian and his goon army. After the battle, their bikes desperately needed an oil-job and the mice knew Charley would be happy to lend them a hand. She always was. So, while Charley had been working on their bikes, the guys had seized her sofa and TV-set and basically eaten everything she had left in her fridge after the guy's last visit.
"Hey, Sweetheart, you wouldn't mind gettin' me another root beer, would ya?" Vinnie asked. The white-furred mouse glanced at Charley and gave her his most innocent smile. "Please?"
Charley took in a deep breath and walked to the roaring radio-set. She calmly unplugged it.
"Yes, Vinnie, I DO mind. You see, unless you haven't noticed, I've been working on your bikes for five hours now, and to be honest with you guys, I'm wiped out. As in very, no, extremely tired. So, if you want more root beer, I suggest you go to the nearest quick-e-mart to get some. I'm going to take a long hot shower."
"Ok, something tells me we've overstayed our welcome", Throttle mumbled. The tan mouse took the remote control from Vinnie and turned off the TV. He got up. "Bros, I think it's time for us to head out to the score board. Good night, Charley"
"But what about the game?" Vinnie whined. "You do remember that our set in busted."
"Oh, stop whining Vincent, Charley ma'am needs her rest", Modo said, walking to his bike. "Besides, if you hadn't irritated me, the TV wouldn't be busted." He looked at Charley, who was already walking up the stairs to the bathroom. "Sorry, if we took your hard work for granted, Charley ma'am, we promise we won't do it again."
"Thank you, Modo, but I know you guys will do it again and again and again..." Charley said with a smile. "Ride safe."
"You know we always do that, Charley-girl", Throttle said. He gunned the engine of his bike.
"But what about the game?" Vinnie tried to protest but with not much success. The fearless leader had made up his mind. Vinnie decided it was time for extreme methods. He looked at Charley. "Listen, Sweetheart, you know I could stay here 'n make sure no monsters attack you while you're in the shower. That way I could watch the game and at the same time my studly pod would keep you safe. So, what do you say?"
"Vinnie, if you don't get your tail out of my garage right now, I will come down there and KICK you out myself!"
"Ouch...Babe, it was only a suggestion, you know..." The white mouse hopped on his red racer-bike, popped a wheelie and roared off after his bros into the dark night, leaving the Last Chance Garage far behind.
**************************************************
Charley stepped out of the shower, feeling as refreshed as a self-employed work-a-holic ever could. She grabbed a towel and quickly dried her self up. She wrapped the towel around herself and walked out of the bathroom into her small bedroom. *I hope I didn't hurt the guys' feeling by kicking them out like that* She had to admit; she was feeling pretty bad about it. *I mean, they really didn't mean to take me for granted, they just...well, they're over-grown children, I should at least try to understand them* Charley walked to her closet and opened the doors. *Ok, here's the hard part: Do I go back to work or do I just chill and enjoy the fact that you could hear a needle drop in this house* She smiled and pulled out her favourite pyjamas. She quickly got dressed and then sat down in front of her mirror. She reached for her hairbrush.
"Mission Impossible XI: How to get Charlene's hair straight", she muttered to herself and smiled. This night was going to be perfect. No mice, no noise, only a good movie and a few pounds of ice cream to keep her company. Suddenly, she felt an explosive pain in the back of her head. She dropped the brush and tried to turn around to see who was at the door.
"Who are...you", she mumbled. Then her eyes rolled up into her head and she collapsed onto the floor.
"Now that was way too easy", a figure snorted from the darkness of the hall, pointing her blaster at her latest victim. The cold moon shed its light to the room, making the figure's hair shimmer slightly.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ ^^^^^^^^^ I've had this chapter just sitting in my PC and now I finally took the time to read it through and update my story. I have decided to make some adjustments to the story, this chapter was supposed to be a little longer...And I do apologize for my writing errors, I don't have a beta- reader and English isn't my mother tongue. ;) I'll start working on the next chapter ASAP. ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ ^^^^^^^^^
"Why me? What have I done to deserve such a dreadful life? Why won't those darn rodents just leave me alone?!" Lawrence Limburger was sitting behind his desk in his office or, more appropriately put, in what was left of his old office after the biker mice from Mars had visited him a half an hour earlier. Still, Limburger was somewhat happy about the fact that the building was still upright.
"Uh, maybe it's 'cos youse is trying to destroy Chicago 'n them mize don't like it", Greasepit suggested, holding his little red cap in his right hand.
"Greasepit, my dear, dear boy, you're obviously not as dumb as I thought you were", Limburger said, with his usual ingratiating smile on his face. "...you're even dumber...Karbunkle!!"
Karbunkle crashed his way to Limburger's office in an elevator that destroyed almost half of the still-intact floor of the room. Like always, he knew exactly what Limburger wanted, so he had the Transporter with him.
"Um, you bellowed, your reeking cheesiness?" the scientist asked while fiddling with the Transporter's control panel. He knew what was coming: a new super-villain.
"I need to get rid of those meddling mice right now! And for good this time! How am I supposed to ship this planet to Plutark when those biker bunnies are continuously after my behind? I need a real hard-gore mouse catcher, and I need them now. Someone who has the skill that apparently none of my trusted men has. In other words, I need someone who won't FAIL!!!" Limburger screamed at Karbunkle, who tried to avoid the horrible stink by holding his nose. The horrible stench filled the room and made the windows crack.
"Yes, I know exactly what you're getting at, Sir. And I have the solution right here." The mad doctor punched the last button on the panel and the Transporter booth began to glow. "Mister Limburger, I'd like you to meet the marvel of Plutarkian gene-engineering, Pain!"
After the smoke had cleared, out of the Transporter stepped a 5'10'' woman. She had the features of a perfect pedigree Siamese cat. Her sleek fur was white and her long, white hair had a silverish tint. Her eyes also had a touch of silver in them. She was wearing a black leather top and shorts, with a gun belt resting on her hip. In addition to that, she had black high- heeled boots, a black glove in her right hand and a black-and-silver collar tightly around her neck.
"It's Miss Never-Ending Pain to you, melon-head", she hissed at the doctor. "Now, what do I own this pleasure, Mister...?"
"It's Limburger, Lawrence Limburger." Limburger rose from his seat and approached the villain with his right hand extended. The feline-female didn't take it. Limburger casually let his arm fall to his side. "And I have a proposition for you, um, Miss Pain. You see, I have a slight problem with some rodents..."
"WHAT?!" she yelled, grapping the collar of his purple suit. "So you got me here to deal with pests! Listen, Mister Plutarkian, if you have a problem with rats, you should get an exterminator."
"Actually I have called the X-Terminator...and he has failed...several times..." Limburger wheezed the words out. "I'm talking about mice, Martian mice to be exact."
"Ah, now that's something I like to hear." Pain released Limburger and walked away from him. "So, Martians...How many are there and when do you want them dead?" Suddenly, with one graceful leap, she jumped on to Limburger's desk. Huge claws came out of her palms and she hit them hard on to the desk's surface. "'Cos I just love to slice mice", she said with an evil grin.
"Now that's what I love to hear. And I already have a plan ready for you, my dear. A plan that will not fail", Limburger said with an even bigger grin than Pain.
**************************************************
Night was falling over Chicago. The streets were empty and quiet. But one building was anything but quiet: the Last Chance Garage. Owned by Charlene Davidson, the garage shared its light and heavy metal music with the entire block. But it's not that the empty buildings really minded...
"Will you PLEASE just turn that thing off!!" Charley screamed, waving a wrench in her right hand, and pointing at the radio with her left. Her blue blouse and jeans were completely covered in motor oil.
"No way, Charley-girl, it's Sweet Georgy Brown, you know he plays the best stuff!" Throttle yelled, barely able to hear what he was saying.
"Yeah, and besides, you just CAN'T watch hockey without some mood music!" Modo shouted, at the same time pounding his left foot to the beat of the song, almost causing the concrete to break.
The guys had arrived at the garage in the late afternoon, right after their big fight with Chicago's only residential Plutarkian and his goon army. After the battle, their bikes desperately needed an oil-job and the mice knew Charley would be happy to lend them a hand. She always was. So, while Charley had been working on their bikes, the guys had seized her sofa and TV-set and basically eaten everything she had left in her fridge after the guy's last visit.
"Hey, Sweetheart, you wouldn't mind gettin' me another root beer, would ya?" Vinnie asked. The white-furred mouse glanced at Charley and gave her his most innocent smile. "Please?"
Charley took in a deep breath and walked to the roaring radio-set. She calmly unplugged it.
"Yes, Vinnie, I DO mind. You see, unless you haven't noticed, I've been working on your bikes for five hours now, and to be honest with you guys, I'm wiped out. As in very, no, extremely tired. So, if you want more root beer, I suggest you go to the nearest quick-e-mart to get some. I'm going to take a long hot shower."
"Ok, something tells me we've overstayed our welcome", Throttle mumbled. The tan mouse took the remote control from Vinnie and turned off the TV. He got up. "Bros, I think it's time for us to head out to the score board. Good night, Charley"
"But what about the game?" Vinnie whined. "You do remember that our set in busted."
"Oh, stop whining Vincent, Charley ma'am needs her rest", Modo said, walking to his bike. "Besides, if you hadn't irritated me, the TV wouldn't be busted." He looked at Charley, who was already walking up the stairs to the bathroom. "Sorry, if we took your hard work for granted, Charley ma'am, we promise we won't do it again."
"Thank you, Modo, but I know you guys will do it again and again and again..." Charley said with a smile. "Ride safe."
"You know we always do that, Charley-girl", Throttle said. He gunned the engine of his bike.
"But what about the game?" Vinnie tried to protest but with not much success. The fearless leader had made up his mind. Vinnie decided it was time for extreme methods. He looked at Charley. "Listen, Sweetheart, you know I could stay here 'n make sure no monsters attack you while you're in the shower. That way I could watch the game and at the same time my studly pod would keep you safe. So, what do you say?"
"Vinnie, if you don't get your tail out of my garage right now, I will come down there and KICK you out myself!"
"Ouch...Babe, it was only a suggestion, you know..." The white mouse hopped on his red racer-bike, popped a wheelie and roared off after his bros into the dark night, leaving the Last Chance Garage far behind.
**************************************************
Charley stepped out of the shower, feeling as refreshed as a self-employed work-a-holic ever could. She grabbed a towel and quickly dried her self up. She wrapped the towel around herself and walked out of the bathroom into her small bedroom. *I hope I didn't hurt the guys' feeling by kicking them out like that* She had to admit; she was feeling pretty bad about it. *I mean, they really didn't mean to take me for granted, they just...well, they're over-grown children, I should at least try to understand them* Charley walked to her closet and opened the doors. *Ok, here's the hard part: Do I go back to work or do I just chill and enjoy the fact that you could hear a needle drop in this house* She smiled and pulled out her favourite pyjamas. She quickly got dressed and then sat down in front of her mirror. She reached for her hairbrush.
"Mission Impossible XI: How to get Charlene's hair straight", she muttered to herself and smiled. This night was going to be perfect. No mice, no noise, only a good movie and a few pounds of ice cream to keep her company. Suddenly, she felt an explosive pain in the back of her head. She dropped the brush and tried to turn around to see who was at the door.
"Who are...you", she mumbled. Then her eyes rolled up into her head and she collapsed onto the floor.
"Now that was way too easy", a figure snorted from the darkness of the hall, pointing her blaster at her latest victim. The cold moon shed its light to the room, making the figure's hair shimmer slightly.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ ^^^^^^^^^ I've had this chapter just sitting in my PC and now I finally took the time to read it through and update my story. I have decided to make some adjustments to the story, this chapter was supposed to be a little longer...And I do apologize for my writing errors, I don't have a beta- reader and English isn't my mother tongue. ;) I'll start working on the next chapter ASAP. ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ ^^^^^^^^^
