by
C. "Sparky" Read
Chapter Three
Megavolt switched on the cappuccino maker and stood back. "Will you quit fooling around?" he shouted down the hallway. "Find out where that mole is so we can get out of here!" He took a step toward the espresso machine, but stopped when something growled ominously behind him. Megavolt turned around and found himself feet-to-face with a huge grey alleycat, crouched on the apartment's blue carpet. The cat yowled and promptly affixed herself to Megavolt's boot.
"Koosh, what is your problem?" Megavolt shook his leg in a vain attempt to dislodge the cat, who only dug in her claws more deeply. "I am not a catnip toy!..Quackerjack!" he shouted, "your stupid cat is attacking me again!"
"Don't call my cats stupid!" came the reply. "Hey! I found Roger Ebert's Little Movie Glossary On-Line!"
Megavolt hopped to a closet, opened it, extracted a broom, and began trying frantically to sweep Koosh off of his leg. Koosh didn't appreciate this latest assault and detached herself from Megavolt's jumpsuit. Then, tail held high in indignation, she stalked off to curl up on the couch.
Megavolt threw the broom to the floor in disgust and resumed his previous activities, which included getting impatient with the cappuccino machine and putting it onto a burner of the stove.
"Ok, I got it," said Quackerjack, wandering out of the back room. He put a small orange cat down on the floor. "Go outside, Tinkerbelle," he told her, then he turned aroundand cried out in terror. "What have you done to my cappuccino machine?" he blurted, rushing to the machine's side as if it needed medical assistance. "It's all scorched!"
Megavolt shrugged unconcernedly "Well don't blame me," he replied. "It's not my fault you buy cheap coffee makers."
"It isn'twasn'ta coffee maker." Quackerjack gritted his teeth. "It was my top-of-the-line Italian cappuccino machine...'Italian' as in 'From Italy.' The shipping alone cost me a fortune!"
"Oh, get over it alreadyWhere's Moliarty?"
Quackerjack, after turning off the burner, straightened up and fished a scrap of paper from his pocket. "He's working out of an office on Northwood," he said, reading over his notes. "He'll be there until four a.m. It's only one now."
"Fine, let's go." Megavolt grabbed a mug and the decimated cappuccino machine for the road. "I can't believe I'm missing Mystery Science Theatre for this..." he grumped as they headed back down to the street.
"No, no, noand again, NO!"
Quackerjack sputtered. "ButBut you haven't even let us tell you what we want you to do first!"
"It doesn't matter." Moliarty folded his arms and pivoted to face the wall. "I won't be any part of one of the Fearsome Five's schemes." And with that he shut his eyes, as if that would make the two villains behind him disappear.
Of course, this didn't work, and when the mole glanced experimentally over his shoulder, there they were: blinking at him rather stupidly. Disgusted, Moliarty forgot the fear that he had previously been trying to conceal and slammed his palm down on his desk.
"What do you want, a nicely formatted, carbon-copied request to vacate my office?" Moliarty huffed in his impatience. "Can't a mole get anything done in peace around here?..Oh, bother," he added, sinking into a chair. "Now I suppose your rodentine friend is going to par-broil me."
Quackerjack glanced at Megavolt. "Whathim?" he asked Moliarty. "Of course not! We wouldn't do anything like that..." He trailed off as Moliarty's expression turned to one of utter disbelief. "Well, not today, anyway," the duck went on. "You see, we need your help."
"We're on a mission from Negaduck," began Megavolt.
"A gang?" Moliarty wondered aloud as soon as Megavolt had finished a hasty explanation. "I'm afraid I'm not exactly the gangster type."
"If you've got no superpowers, you're the right type." Quackerjack sat on the corner of Moliarty's desk. "So, you in?"
"Or do we have to...kill you?" asked Mr. Banana Brain.
Moliarty regarded the puppet and then its wielder with an uneasy eye. "Ah...let me check my datebook." Moliarty opened a desk drawer and ducked down over it to hide his expression. These people are insane! he thought anxiously, and he peeked cautiously over the top of the desk.
Megavolt and Quackerjack waved cheerfully. Moliarty ducked back down again hastily. Completely certifiable! But-I do need the work... Moliarty's shoulders slumped as the mole resigned himself. He would have to put up with these crackpotspotentially dangerous onesfor the next twenty-four hours; he had no choice.
Moliarty straightened up, a one-hundred-per-cent artificial smile plastered across his face. Megavolt and Quackerjack grinned back immediately in response.
"You boys have got a deal," Moliarty said with as much enthusiasm as he could dredge up. "I would beahempleased to be a part of your...illustrious gang." And he shook each of their hands in turn.
"Well this is great!" enthused Quackerjack. "Now we've got a real gang!"
"But there's only three of us," Megavolt pointed out. "Some gang."
"We need some more non-superpowered criminals..." Quackerjack paced Moliarty's office briefly. "I've got it!" he cried. "The Mad Director!"
Megavolt rubbed his chin. "Yeah," he agreed. "And...what about that short guy with the weird accent and the big iguana?"
Moliarty pressed his fingertips together. "You boys wouldn't be talking about Tuskernini and Jambalayah Jake, would you?" he queried smoothly.
"Yeah, so?" chorused the other two.
"So," responded the mole evenly, "you'll never be able to get them. They're far too busy to join any little gang you two could hurl at them. It's entirely hopeless."
"Hey!" Quackerjack was offended. "What could be more important than our gang?"
Megavolt was miffed as well. "What, do they have lives or something?" he demanded.
"Something like that," Moliarty answered. "Tuskernini is currently the owner and operator of the St. Canard Regal Operahouse, while Jambalayah Jake is under the taloned thumb of his grandmother. You'll never be able to get either of them to just drop what they're doing and go cavorting about with you."
Quackerjack pouted. "What if they wanted to cavort with us?" he said sourly.
"You'll see what they have to say when we ask them in person to join," Megavolt told the mole. "We have the best references in the city!"
Moliarty held up his hands. "You boys go right ahead," he told the other two. "You'll see what I mean."
And so after making plans to meet under the St. Canard Museum at five p.m., Quackerjack and Megavolt left Moliarty alone in his office to ponder on the wisdom of his decision.
