Some Like It 'Bot

A "My Life as a Teenage Robot" Fanfic

Chapter Four – Scenes From A Mall

The Tremorton Mall was filled with people buzzing away on both levels, as was usual for a Saturday afternoon, but wasn't crowded enough to be uncomfortable.  While the serious shoppers powered their way through the stores, others simply relaxed at the food court in the middle of the mall, wasting the afternoon as creatively as they could.

That's the situation Brad found himself in, after blowing thirty dollars in quarters at the arcade.  He had planned to kill an hour or two, hanging with friends from school, and flirting with the ladies.  That had proven to be a little difficult with his little brother tagging along, though; Tuck could be pretty demanding on his time when he wanted to be.

Brad sighed, as Tuck stared him down from over their table.  "All right, here are the rules," said Brad.  "The French fry may only be touched with the straw.  Once it's off the table, it must be dropped in the cup.  First one to drop a fry loses."

"It's go time!" shouted Tuck.  The brothers started sucking on their soda straws, moving leftover fries from their greasy trays into their soda cups.  Tuck's facial expression was so hilarious that Brad almost spit his straw out of this mouth, but he hung on, and Tuck only managed to drop in three fries before his little lungs gave out.

Tuck's blue cheeks gasped for air.  "Aw, nuts!"

Brad eased his hands behind his head.  And, that's about the most excitement I've had today.  Yahoo.  "Congratulations, you have just won the chance to be 'Busboy For A Day'.  If you'll do the honors?"

Tuck cleared the wrappers and trash off the table and walked over towards the trash bins.  "Mister breath control thinks he's such a hot shot," he muttered to himself.

Tuck emptied off the tray, and then bumped into a large, hulking man in a drab, pinstripe suit.  "Whoops.  Sorry about that, mister."

"D'uh, that's all right, little boy.  Say, can I ask youse a question?"

"Uh … I guess so."  Tuck was a little distracted by the wriggling burlap sack that the big man had slung over his shoulder.

"Do youse know where there might be a hair salon in dis mall?"

Tuck gestured to his left.  "Well ... my mom takes me to the 'Kwicky Kuts' down at that end."

The big fellow tipped his hat, and joined four other depressed men carrying burlap sacks.  They ran off in the direction that Tuck pointed to.

The little guy shrugged to himself.  "Well, that was kinda strange.  Oh well … time for dessert!"

Tuck ran back to his big brother, who was slouched back in his chair, bored senseless.  He climbed up on his chair and started bouncing up and down.  "All right, let's get cinnamon rolls!  The kind with the gooey, sticky icing that makes you sick to your stomach!"

Brad glanced up at Tuck through half-closed eyes.  "I already bought you ice cream.  And cookie dough.  And half a pound of mint ripple fudge!  I think you've had too much sugar for one afternoon.  You're going to vibrate out of your skin, or start hallucinating, or something."

"There is no such thing as too much sugar.  C'mon, Brad, for an extra fifty cents they give you double icing!"

"For Pete's sake … here, just go buy your own."  Brad handed his little brother a few dollars.

"Pleasure doing business with you," grinned Tuck, clutching the money in his little hands.  He sprinted off to the Cinna-Mania counter and ordered the biggest, sweetest, stickiest cinnamon roll on the menu, bouncing up and down in anticipation.  But while he was waiting, he heard an odd whining, grinding noise coming from behind him.

Something bumped into him.  When he turned to look, he was surprised to see that it wasn't a person.  It was a strange machine, olive-green in color, about four feet tall.  It looked like a robot, but it had a clear plastic dome on top, slightly cracked, and inside the dome was … a rat, sitting in a chair, working a control panel.  Both the robot and the rat looked like they'd just been hit by a bus.

The rat looked down, saw Tuck staring at him, and spoke.  "Vhat are you lookink at, annoyink child?!?"  Then it turned away, and the robot hobbled off towards one end of the mall, drawing perplexed stares as it went.

Tuck blinked a few times, then took his cinnamon roll from the counter lady.  "Maybe I have had too much sugar for one afternoon."  He thought about that for a few seconds.  "Nah, that's crazy talk."

Licking the icing off his fingers, Tuck made his way back to the table and sat down.  "Hey, Brad … have you seen anything strange go by here in the past couple of minutes?"

Brad chuckled at his little brother.  "Be a little more specific, junior.  You have a pretty broad definition of the word 'strange'."

"Okay, smart guy, how about five mopey men in suits carrying wiggling sacks around the mall?" Tuck huffed.  "Or a robot with a mouse in a cockpit, driving it around, bumping into helpless little kids?"

Brad shook his head in frustration.  "See, this is why I told you not to put the 'en fuego' sauce on those tacos.  Now you're going to have nightmares tonight, and you'll scream that there's moon spiders in your bed, or zombie cows outside the window.  And Dad'll blame me!  Wiggling sacks and robots … pffft.  The only robot we know is doing hard time back in her bedroom."

"Uh … it looks like she's out on parole."  Tuck pointed behind Brad's back.

Sure enough, Jenny was running through the mall in their direction.  She was looking left and right as she ran, like she was frantically looking for somebody.  And she almost seemed to be a little nervous.  Brad was surprised, and happy, to see that she'd gotten out for the afternoon.

"Hey, Jen!  Over here!" he shouted.

"AAIIIGGHHH!!!"  Jenny jumped like she'd been hit with a downed power line.  "Brad – Tuck – it's just you.  Phew.  Thank goodness."

Okay, she seemed to be a lot nervous.  "Well, it's great to see you too," Brad said, a little hurt, and a little confused.

"I'm sorry, guys, I didn't mean anything.  You just … startled me."

"Your mom let you out of the house!" blurted Tuck, still fueled with sugar.  "That's great!  You wanna come with me to the comic book store?  Or play a round of mini golf?  C'mon, Jenny!!!"

She waved her arms furiously.  "Shhhhh!!!  Not so loud!!!  Why don't you just tell the whole world where I am?"

A small smile grew on Brad's face.  "Ahhhh … Tuck, it appears that our friend here is not out on parole.  It's more like a jailbreak.  Way to go, Jen!" he laughed.

"No, no, that's not why I'm … hmmm … okay, that is why I'm here, kind of."  Jenny clasped her hands, pleading."  Guys, please, please, pretend like you didn't see me here today!"

"C'mon, Jen," said Brad, "we'd never rat on you."

Jenny was almost frantic.  "I'm still supposed to be grounded!  Oh … If Mom ever found out I've been out of the house …"

"Found out?  All she has to do is go upstairs and look in your bedroom," said Tuck.

"I've got that angle covered," said Jenny, "but if she sees something on TV, I'm dead."

"Why would she see you on television?"  That didn't make any sense to Brad.

"The Lonely Hearts Club Gang," Jenny explained excitedly, hands flailing.  "At the concert!  See, they were there, and I was there, and the show was on, and it totally rocked, and then big finish, and Boom!, and they grabbed them, and then the cameras, and they got away, and I chased them, and now they're here, and I've got to find them before it turns into a big stink on the evening news and I get busted!"

Tuck scratched his head.  "Are they five droopy-looking guys in suits?  Each carrying a sack of ferrets or something?"

Jenny grabbed Tuck and lifted him up to her face.  "That's them!!! Tuck, you saw them?!?"

"Yeah, one of them said they were looking for a hair salon, and I sent them to Kwicky Kuts."

Jenny slapped her hands to the sides of her head, dropping Tuck to the floor.  "Hair salon?!?  What are they gonna do there?!?  Oh, wow … I've gotta go!!!"

And before Brad or Tuck could utter another syllable, a set of wheels deployed from Jenny's feet.  They spun up a cloud of smoke, and she sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust, paper wrappers, and flattened shoppers in her wake.

Brad jumped up out of his seat.  "Finally!  A little excitement!  I have absolutely no idea what's actually going on, but I'm betting it beats watching you stuff yourself with curly fries.  Let's go check it out!"

Tuck rubbed his sore read end.  "Ouch.  I tried to tell you.  You know, nobody ever listens to me."

"Apparently gangsters listen to you.  What's the big idea helping out a bunch of guys that Jenny's trying to catch?"

"Well, I didn't know they were gangsters!" protested Tuck.  "And besides, what's so wrong about going for a haircut, anyway?"

Brad tapped his chin.  "Hmmm … that's actually a pretty good question.  Jenny was talking so fast that I didn't understand half of what she said.  Something about the concert, and boom, and stinking on the news.  Wow, sounds like it was one heck of a concert!  Let's go find her."

But Tuck didn't budge.  In fact, the little fellow's jaw almost dropped to his knees.

He pointed towards the food court mall entrance.  "W-w-why don't we just wait?  She should be here in about ten seconds."

"Tuck, we just watched her take off like a drag racer."

"Y-yeah, that's what I thought too."

"Wha - ?" Brad turned to see what Tuck was looking at and … that's impossible.

Jenny staggered into the food court from the north entrance, looking right and left as she walked, as if she was still searching for something.  And she wasn't looking so hot herself all of the sudden.  She had a few dents and scrapes on her legs and body, and one pigtail seemed a bit crooked.  How did she get so banged up?  And how did she get outside that fast?

"Curiouser and curiouser," wondered Brad.  "C'mon, short stuff."

The brothers made their way through the food court crowd, over to where Jenny was standing.  She seemed to be scanning the area, while resting against a handrail.  She'd gotten awfully tired all of the sudden.

"Uh … you take a wrong turn there, Jen?" asked Brad.

Jenny spun around, and nearly jumped out of her metal skin.  "BRAD?!?  TUCK?!?"  She was speechless for a few seconds.  "Hi," she managed to weakly stammer out.  Her eyes were shifting left and right like a cornered animal, and she tried to force a smile – a very unconvincing one.

Brad's brain was really spinning now.  What the heck is the deal here?

"Did you find the gangsters?" asked Tuck.

Jenny blinked a few times.  "Gangsters?  What gangsters?"

Tuck tossed his arms up.  "What do you mean, what gangsters?  The ones you just told us you were looking for!  Are you feeling all right?"

"Yeah, you okay, Jen?" asked Brad.  "I mean, look at you.  You look like you just fell off a building or something!"

"Heh-heh … or as if I've just plummeted hundreds of feet and crashed into a parking lot.  Guys, I really have to go."

Something clicked, and a small smile started to form on Brad's face.  "But Jenny, we're your friends.  We're just concerned about your health."

"No, I'm fine, guys, really.  It's nothing that won't buff right out.  I really have to go now."

"No, Jenny – we insist.  You look like you could use a rest."  Brad gestured towards an empty table.

Jenny grew more nervous.  "Really, really have to keep going here …"

Brad smiled wickedly.  "But some of those scrapes on your legs look pretty bad, Jenny.  You can see all the way through to the silver-green undercoating.  Tsk, tsk.  I see London, I see France …"

Jenny gulped, hard.  "It's … ah … something new that Mom made … up … this … morning?"

Brad clasped his hands behind his back, and rocked on his heels.  "Why aren't the motors in your legs and arms making any noise when you move?" he grinned.

Jenny's shoulders slumped and she sighed, heavily.  "All right, sit down.  Tuck, if you stand beside me, then nobody should be able to see under the table.  Make believe like you dropped something."

Tuck peeked under the table at Jenny's leg housings.  To his surprise, their surface, and her hips, started to shimmer a bit, like metallic jello.  They briefly turned a silvery color, just long enough to smooth out the dents and scrapes, and then they returned to their normal pale blue.

"Wow, Jenny," said Tuck, "that's really cool!  I mean, I've seen Drew do that before, but I didn't know that you could do it too!"

Brad chuckled, and patted Tuck on the head.  "Folks, let's just wait for a bit here, while young Tucker catches up with the rest of the group."  Jenny just buried her head in her hands.  She looked like she was going to die of embarrassment, for some reason …

Tuck gasped, and started laughing.  "No … way!  No way!  DREW?!?  Bwaahahaha!!!!"

Drew rocked his head back and forth in misery.  "Shhhhhh!!!  Guys, you're killing me!  And I really do have to run!"

"So what's the big rush?" laughed Brad.  "Big shoe sale?  Getting a facial?  Shopping for nail polish?  Not that there's anything wrong with that …"

Tuck fought for breath.  "You know, Drew, Jenny's down at the Kwicky Kuts.  Maybe you could get together with her and try out some new hairdos!"

"Oh, for the love of …" Drew's eyes shot wide.  "Wait a minute.  Jenny is here?!?  In the mall?!?"

Brad wiped a tear from his eye.  "Yeah … yeah, she's chasing some gangsters or something."

"Cripes, I can't let her see me here!  I'm supposed to be at her house!"  Drew held out his hands, pleading.  "Guys, nobody else can know about this.  Nobody.  Look, guys, give me a break here.  It's a long story that I don't have time for right now, but I'm just trying to do Jenny a favor.  I'm begging you!"

"Okay, okay … oh, this is just too weird."  Brad was finally calming down.  "How did you get so mangled?  I mean, seriously, are you all right?"

Drew rolled his eyes.  "One of Dr. Wakeman's lab rats went postal and built some kind of robot battle suit.  It's been beating the tar out of me all afternoon."

"HA!"  Tuck pointed a finger into Brad's face.  "Hallucinating, was I?  I told you I saw a robot with a mouse inside!"

"Tuck!  You've seen it?!?"

"A few minutes ago.  It wobbled off in that direction," Tuck gestured.

Drew rose up from the table, and tried to straighten out his pigtails.  "Guys, I've got to track down a homicidal Sputnik-bot.  And I don't know how the heck I'm supposed to find it."

Brad and Tuck suddenly started squirming, as if they were about to explode with laughter.

"Don't worry, Jenny," panted a nasal voice from behind Drew.  "That shouldn't be a problem!  All we have to do is use my trusty pocket spectrometer."

Drew just slammed his head into his hands.  Oh, God.  "Sheldon, I thought I told you to wait outside."

Sheldon had just run in from the parking lot, and was trying to smooth out his hair and catch his breath.  "Oh, I know you're just trying to protect me, Jenny.  Just like you bravely shielded me from that horrific fall with your own body."  Blush.  Chuckle.  Snort.  "But I could never leave you in your hour of need!  We're a team!"

Brad was biting his lower lip.  Tuck's face was passing red, and approaching purple.

Drew just stared into the distance, too stunned to blink, while Sheldon continued.  "Now, as I was saying, my pocket spectrometer can pick up traces of all sorts of chemicals.  That robot was leaking motor oil when it ran into the mall, so we'll just set it for motor oil and … voila!"  Sheldon held up a small wand-like device in his hand.  "This way, my lady fair!"

After a few seconds of cringing, and eye twitches, Drew just gave up.  "Lead on, Sheldon."

Sheldon and "Jenny" headed off into the mall, following the trail of motor oil from Vladimir's robot.  Once they were out of earshot, Brad and Tuck didn't stop laughing for five minutes.

Jenny raced down the escalator, hoping to get to the Back Sync Boys, and her beloved Logan, before the Lonely Hearts Club Gang could do … whatever it was they were planning to do.  She was already drawing too much attention to herself from passers-by – that's the story of my life – but she had to risk it.  "Excuse me.  Pardon me!  Excuse me."  She wriggled past annoyed shoppers and finally got to the mall's lower level.  According to the directory, Kwicky Kuts was over by some new electronics store that just opened up.

Okay, things are still under control, she thought to herself as she ran towards the hair salon.  They're still under control!  The Lonely Hearts are more of a nuisance than anything else.  I mean, it's not like they could ever hurt me.  I'll just zip in, kick a little depressed gangster butt, free the Back Sync Boys, accept their gratitude – she giggled at that thought – and nobody will be the wiser.  Everything is completely under control.

Kwicky Kuts was just up ahead.  Why on Earth would the Lonely Hearts kidnap four pop band members only to take them to a discount haircut shop?  To give them bad haircuts?  Well, maybe it was just that simple; the Lonely Hearts weren't the swiftest operators in town, not by a long shot.  Maybe they were going to give them cow licks, or shave off their goatees.

Jenny barreled around a corner …

And realized that she was about to run over an old lady who had just walked out of an electronics store called Circuit Suburb.  She put on the brakes, and screeched to a stop two feet from the old lady's back.

A lady in a yellow lab coat.  With long, disheveled white hair.

Jenny froze in absolute terror.  M-Mom?!?

She didn't budge a servo – and couldn't even if she wanted to.  What is she doing here?!?  She's supposed to be at home!  Did she hear me?  If she turns around, I'm dead meat!!!  What do I do?!?  What do I do?!?

There was a fake palm tree surrounded by benches just a few feet away.  It was the only thing she could think of.  Jenny dove behind the tree just as her mother turned around.

Mrs. Wakeman set a shopping bag down on the floor and moaned.

"Oh, the bunions are acting up today.  Now I remember why I hate coming to this madhouse!  I need to sit down for a minute."

Jenny peeked around the palm tree in even more absolute terror.  Her mother had just taken a seat on a mall bench almost directly in front of Kwicky Kuts!  There was no way she could possibly get in there without her mom seeing her.

Jenny was trying to stay calm.  She wasn't doing a very good job of it.  C'mon, c'mon, you hate the mall, Mom … the parking lot is that way … c'mon …

Her mother took a pair of boxes labeled "Micro-fusion Regulator 8000" out of her shopping bag and opened one up.  She's going to look at those things now?!?  Augh, give me a break!!!  Jenny converted one of pigtails into a parabolic dish microphone, as quietly as she could, and pointed it towards Kwicky Kuts.  Sure enough, she could hear a commotion going on in the back, and voices that sounded like the Lonely Hearts Club Gang.  I'm fifty feet away from them and I can't budge an inch!

 "Sheldon, are you sure that thing really works?" asked Drew.

Shoppers on the upper level had to dodge out of their way, because Sheldon was too completely focused on his pocket do-hickey-whatever to watch where he was walking.  "Okay, I realize you're probably a little skeptical after the whole crashing-the-jet-pack into a delivery truck thing."  He chuckled.  "At least it was delivering a shipment of cotton balls, right?  But rest assured, Jenny, we'll search until we find that little maze-running megalomaniac!"

Drew slapped his forehead.  Nice dialog.  "Augh.  All right, less talky more searchy, okay?"

Suddenly the gizmo in Sheldon's hands started beeping furiously.  They looked up, and there was Vladimir's robot, staggering along only a few dozen yards ahead of them.

"It's him!  Sheldon, consider this an apology," whispered Drew.  "As soon as we sneak up and grab this little pest, we can get back home, stick him in his exercise wheel, and de-stress for the rest of the day."

"Freeze right there, you rodent revolutionary!" shouted Sheldon, striking a defiant pose.

Drew fought the urge to strangle him.  It's a little thing called 'element of surprise'.  Look it up!

Vladimir turned around to see his pursuers.  "So!  Vakeman's thug and her odd little companion survive!  Vell, I have not made it this far only to be denied, when my triumph is within my reach!"

"Look, what are you babbling about?!?"  Drew planted his hands on his hips.  I can't believe I just did that.  "You're nowhere near the water supply, so whatever you were going to do there is a bust.  Your robot suit is just about ready to fall apart … which I'd be more than happy to help with, by the way."  Drew pounded a fist into his hand.  "Give up now, and you can be lying on a fresh pile of wood chips sipping from your water bottle in half an hour."

"You think you can bribe me with creature comforts, vhen I am destined to rule?!?  You insult me, robot!"  Vladimir grew angry.  "Is true, I may not have townsfolk at my command.  But are plenty of potential mind-control drones inside of hideous shopping complex!  Glorious irony, that my revolution shall begin in corrupt temple of decadent capitalism!"

"All right," grumbled Drew.  "You want hard way, you got hard way."  I've got a lot of frustration to work out of my system today, Mickey.

Drew took off in a sprint for Vladimir, who was now pushing his robot as hard as he could, shaking and belching oily puffs of smoke into the air.  Vladimir scrambled around a corner.  A few steps behind, Drew excuse-me'd his way around a cluster of window shoppers, eager to end this little outing as quickly as possible.  He turned the corner …

And Vladimir's robot was standing still, in front of a mattress store, leaning on the handrail, overlooking the ground floor below.  Drew could see a huge, evil grin on the little rat's face.  What was he looking at?

He glanced over the railing, and felt like he was going to have a stroke.  On a bench, in front of some kind of barber shop next to the Circuit Suburb, Dr. Wakeman sat on a bench, relaxing.  What the blazes is Doctor Wakeman doing here?!?  And just behind her, hiding behind a fake tree … no, that just couldn't be Jenny.  Yes … yes, it could.  Oh Lord, if she sees me here … if she sees Sheldon here … if Sheldon sees her here … oh, sweet Moses.

A small panel slid open on Vladimir's robot – actually, the door just popped off and clattered to the floor.  With a struggling whine, Drew saw the nose of a mini-missile poke out of the robot's chest cavity.

Mrs. Wakeman frowned as she inspected the boxes she'd just purchased.  "Wouldn't you know it, these are just the converters.  This is the last time I buy generic!  I think I needed the whole kits, that come with the flux-couplers included.  I wonder if I need to buy flux-couplers …"  She tapped her chin, trying to remember what she had lying around the laboratory.  "I would rather not foray back into that merchandise jungle, but oh, I'd hate to drive home only to turn around and come back here."

Jenny gritted her teeth from behind the palm tree.  For crying out loud, Mom, buy the stupid flux-couplers and Get! Out! Of! Here!  I've got to get into that Kwicky Kuts!  I've got to stop the Lonely Hearts Club Gang!

Instead, Mrs. Wakeman snapped her fingers.  "Of course!  I'll just give XJ-9 a call and have her run down to the laboratory to check for me.  It's probably not a bad idea to check on her, anyway.  She'll enjoy the chance to get out of her bedroom.  Assuming she's still there, of course.  That girl had better not be watching television in the living room!"

Jenny stared, mortified, as her mother pulled a handheld communicator out of her lab coat pocket.  Living room?!?  I'm standing right behind you!!!  No, no, no, NO!!!

Mrs. Wakeman activated the communicator.  It telescoped in length, and unfolded into a small video screen.

Jenny looked around frantically.  She's going to know I'm at the mall as soon as the screen turns on!  I've got to get out of here!  But I'm supposed to be in my room!  What am I gonna do?!?

Her belly-bolt started to buzz.

She got a desperate idea.  Up on the second floor, she saw something called the Slumber-rific Mattress Factory.  The entrance was right next to that weird olive-green trash can with the plastic dome.  Risking the noise, she deployed her pigtail-jets and blasted towards the store's entrance.

Drew ducked behind the railing, for what little hiding value it provided.  Jenny leapt into the air, practically flying straight towards him.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sheldon coming around the corner of luggage store, trying to keep up with the excitement.

Vladimir's robot shifted slightly, taking careful aim at Mrs. Wakeman below.  At least he was going to have his revenge against his oppressor.

Drew felt like he was having a brain spasm.  There wasn't even time to think.

In one flurry of activity, Drew stretched his arms towards Sheldon, grabbed his sweatshirt hood, and hauled it over his head, covering his eyes.  Clutching him by the collar, Drew hauled him off his feet and dove towards Vladimir's robot, sliding along the floor.  He caught a glimpse of a pale blue blur as Jenny sailed over his head and into the mattress store, for whatever reason.  He didn't know if she saw him or not, and didn't have time to worry about it now.

Drew and Sheldon plowed into the legs of Vladimir's robot, slamming it onto its back.  With one arm still holding onto Sheldon's sweatshirt, and the other holding on to two of the battle robot's legs, he lunged wildly into the store next to the mattress shop, which turned out to be a trendy clothing store.  The three of them landed violently against a rack of dresses, knocking them over and startling half a dozen teenage girls.

Vladimir's robot sprawled onto the floor, with two of its legs ripped off.  The rat slammed against his control panel, hard, hitting a few buttons.

Drew – "Jenny" – lay stunned on a pile of cashmere sweaters and watched the mini-missile pop out of Vladimir's robot with a pneumatic shoomp.  It almost seemed to flutter through the air, in slow motion, like a falling leaf.  Then it gently tumbled back down, bounced off a pile of clothing, and rolled to a stop.  On Drew's stomach.

And the little red light on its nose was beeping.

CONCLUDED in Chapter Five