Disclaimer : same as always
Story : ditto
Author : ditto
Summary, Rating, Dedication : ditto (It's all yours Bob! [sorry you're the villain, but it suited your personality])
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Sydney woke up without a pain in her neck. She woke up without a stitch in her side or any other of the odd calamities that seem to come with being "asleep" for a period of time without one's consent. In fact, Sydney felt quite rested.
"Do you feel quite rested? I should hope so, being as how you are laying on one of my favorite beds, or is it lying?" An odd voice proclaimed from the corner of yet another dingy room. Sydney tried to twist so that she could see the owner of the voice, but found that she was oddly contained. In fact, all that Sydney could see was the rocket-covered sheets of the racecar shaped bed.
"I took the liberty of restraining you. It is rather unpleasant when one's captives manage to escape. You will notice that there are no ropes or other crude, barbaric forms of manacles. Oh, no! I know of your famed statute as super spy extraordinaire, and I, for one, do not appreciate being kick boxed to death. Therefore, I devised an, if I may say so, ingenious system of imprisonment. It's virtually impossible to escape unless one knows the magic words. You've had some experiences with magic lately, haven't you Sydys?"
Sydney had been grunting all the way through the oddball's winded speech. 'Does he ever shut up?' she was wondering when she heard her name, or something that was similar to her name.
"Sydys? My name is Sydney." She glared at the weirdo. How could you not even know the proper name of your kidnappee?
"Ha. That's what you think. I took the liberty of changing it for you. You see I despise names that cannot be spelt the same forward and backward. I believe they have a word for these. Oh what is it . . ." Creepy talker boy stopped his meaningless prattle for a few seconds while Sydney rolled her eyes.
"It's called a palindrome."
"That's it! They said you were amazing, but I never suspected how good you really were! I'll have to kidnap a spy more often. Anyway . . . where was I? Oh yes, I despise names that aren't palindromes, but I'll let you choose. You can be Sydys. You can be Anna, Hannah, or Saras."
Sydney just looked at him. Well, she didn't look at him, because she couldn't turn to see him. Instead, she looked in his general vicinity as much as her head would allow her to.
Figuring it would just be easier to go along with crazy man, Sydney said, "Saras will be fine. I've never really cared for Anna or Hannah."
"That's the spirit! I'm Bob. Well, I'm not Bob. My name is Petey, but Petep just doesn't have the same ring as Bob, does it?"
"No, I guess not." Despite the fact that Sydney was tied down and unable to do or move anything, she was having a remarkably good time laughing at everything 'Bob' said. In fact, Sydney was beginning to like Bob. He was rather amusing, or maybe it was just his racecar shaped bed.
"Plus, my hair is cut into a bob. Therefore, the name "Bob" makes sense because it works as an adjective and a proper noun! It's so useful when things work more than one way! I do so like my hair cut. My girlfriend, well ex-girlfriend, cut it using a punch bowl - just like the Beatles! See?"
Sydney stopped her marveling that this man had ever had a girlfriend and responded, "Actually, no, I can't see." The mad man seemed confused for a second.
"What? Are you blind? I didn't bargain for you being blind. This will throw a wrench in my plans. What an odd thing to have an international super-woman of mystery be blind. It's astounding that you do such an amazing job!"
"Actually, I can't see because I can't turn my head because you tied this . . . spell or whatever it is too tightly."
"Oh, dear! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to harm you! I'll loosen it, just let me get the instruction manual," Bob twittered and wandered out of the room, muttering to himself under his breath, 'manual, manual, where are you?'
Sydney waited for what seemed like hours, but was, in reality, three minutes and two point eight seconds.
"I've got it! Sorry to keep you waiting so long."
"It's OK, but Bob, I have a question." Sydney waited, looking expectantly at Bob.
"Yes, Saras?
"Well, you just went and got the manual for this . . .whatever it is that's binding me, but earlier you said that it was your invention. What's up with that?"
Bob glared at Sydney for a long time before deciding how to answer her. They ended up speaking at the same moment.
"You know what? Forget it," Sydney sighed as Bob was saying . . .
"I don't have the best memory, so I write down how to work all of my creations in case I forget, or in case Reger has to work them. Reger's not the smartest bucket in the tool shed." Sydney's forehead wrinkled in confusion. What the heck did he just say?
"Do you mean ' not the sharpest tool in the shed'?"
"Nope, Reger's not the smartest bucket in the tool shed." Still faced with Sydney's perplexity, Bob just said, "Oh, forget it. You'll see later." Instead of accompanying that devilish statement with an equally satanic laugh, Bob smiled, making Sydney feel almost comfortable, but also extremely suspicious. She didn't know how to deal with a bad guy like this. She'd had to face all sorts of psychos, but none as odd as this dude (well, maybe the creepy dentist guy who got paralyzed, but that was odd in a completely different spectrum).
Sydney was about to ask who, or is it whom, Reger was and when would she see him when there was a crash in the back room. Bob turned around abruptly and stalked out of the room.
Syd laid, or is it lied, in silence for a few seconds, wondering what could possibly be happening. Bob still hadn't loosened the restraints and Syd was finding it harder and harder to move and consequently, to breath.
Bob rushed back in, a flurry of lab coats and long gray hair. He ran to a corner of the room and started making tapping sounds on what one can only assume was a computer. Out of nowhere a song began playing. Well, maybe the song came from the computer, but Sydney pondered it all the same.
'What's that song? Where is it coming from?' Sydney thought.
"You'll see," Bob mysteriously responded to her silent inquiries, and hastened out of the room yet again before Sydney could question his mind reading techniques.
Syd waited another impossibly long time, listening to the song. She knew that it was an important clue, otherwise Bob wouldn't have turned the music on, but she couldn't make out the words for the life of her.
Bob stumbled back in. He turned the music up louder. Finally Sydney knew what she was listening to.
"My boyfriend's back and there's gonna be trouble."
"NO! Not that song PLEASE!" Sydney screeched.
"How did lover-boy know that you were here?" Bob interrogated her.
"Lover boy? Vaughn? How the heck should I know?" Sydney shouted. "Just turn the damn music off!"
"Didn't your mother ever tell you to watch your mouth?" Bob questioned in a menacing voice.
"What, when she was stealing government secrets from my father? I don't think so. And Vaughn works for the CIA, they've probably been watching you since I got kidnapped. They're good. Well, some of them are dim wits, but Vaughn's good. Oh yeah, Vaughn is definitely good." Sydney's mind wandered off down a very very dirty little pathway.
Bob slowly lowered the volume.
"I believe you, but if I find out that you had any part in his rescue efforts it will be Britney Spears and N*Sync for you."
"No! It wasn't me!" The music was finally all the way off, and Sydney was regaining the use of her mental capabilities. "Where's Vaughn? What did you do to him?"
"Lover boy is indisposed at the moment." Bob finally let out his evil demonic laugh that is known and loved by villains everywhere.
"NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
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A/N : Haha Cliffy. But is it the end? Leave reviews and you will find out *lets out demonic laugh similar to Bob's*
Story : ditto
Author : ditto
Summary, Rating, Dedication : ditto (It's all yours Bob! [sorry you're the villain, but it suited your personality])
******************************************************************************
Sydney woke up without a pain in her neck. She woke up without a stitch in her side or any other of the odd calamities that seem to come with being "asleep" for a period of time without one's consent. In fact, Sydney felt quite rested.
"Do you feel quite rested? I should hope so, being as how you are laying on one of my favorite beds, or is it lying?" An odd voice proclaimed from the corner of yet another dingy room. Sydney tried to twist so that she could see the owner of the voice, but found that she was oddly contained. In fact, all that Sydney could see was the rocket-covered sheets of the racecar shaped bed.
"I took the liberty of restraining you. It is rather unpleasant when one's captives manage to escape. You will notice that there are no ropes or other crude, barbaric forms of manacles. Oh, no! I know of your famed statute as super spy extraordinaire, and I, for one, do not appreciate being kick boxed to death. Therefore, I devised an, if I may say so, ingenious system of imprisonment. It's virtually impossible to escape unless one knows the magic words. You've had some experiences with magic lately, haven't you Sydys?"
Sydney had been grunting all the way through the oddball's winded speech. 'Does he ever shut up?' she was wondering when she heard her name, or something that was similar to her name.
"Sydys? My name is Sydney." She glared at the weirdo. How could you not even know the proper name of your kidnappee?
"Ha. That's what you think. I took the liberty of changing it for you. You see I despise names that cannot be spelt the same forward and backward. I believe they have a word for these. Oh what is it . . ." Creepy talker boy stopped his meaningless prattle for a few seconds while Sydney rolled her eyes.
"It's called a palindrome."
"That's it! They said you were amazing, but I never suspected how good you really were! I'll have to kidnap a spy more often. Anyway . . . where was I? Oh yes, I despise names that aren't palindromes, but I'll let you choose. You can be Sydys. You can be Anna, Hannah, or Saras."
Sydney just looked at him. Well, she didn't look at him, because she couldn't turn to see him. Instead, she looked in his general vicinity as much as her head would allow her to.
Figuring it would just be easier to go along with crazy man, Sydney said, "Saras will be fine. I've never really cared for Anna or Hannah."
"That's the spirit! I'm Bob. Well, I'm not Bob. My name is Petey, but Petep just doesn't have the same ring as Bob, does it?"
"No, I guess not." Despite the fact that Sydney was tied down and unable to do or move anything, she was having a remarkably good time laughing at everything 'Bob' said. In fact, Sydney was beginning to like Bob. He was rather amusing, or maybe it was just his racecar shaped bed.
"Plus, my hair is cut into a bob. Therefore, the name "Bob" makes sense because it works as an adjective and a proper noun! It's so useful when things work more than one way! I do so like my hair cut. My girlfriend, well ex-girlfriend, cut it using a punch bowl - just like the Beatles! See?"
Sydney stopped her marveling that this man had ever had a girlfriend and responded, "Actually, no, I can't see." The mad man seemed confused for a second.
"What? Are you blind? I didn't bargain for you being blind. This will throw a wrench in my plans. What an odd thing to have an international super-woman of mystery be blind. It's astounding that you do such an amazing job!"
"Actually, I can't see because I can't turn my head because you tied this . . . spell or whatever it is too tightly."
"Oh, dear! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to harm you! I'll loosen it, just let me get the instruction manual," Bob twittered and wandered out of the room, muttering to himself under his breath, 'manual, manual, where are you?'
Sydney waited for what seemed like hours, but was, in reality, three minutes and two point eight seconds.
"I've got it! Sorry to keep you waiting so long."
"It's OK, but Bob, I have a question." Sydney waited, looking expectantly at Bob.
"Yes, Saras?
"Well, you just went and got the manual for this . . .whatever it is that's binding me, but earlier you said that it was your invention. What's up with that?"
Bob glared at Sydney for a long time before deciding how to answer her. They ended up speaking at the same moment.
"You know what? Forget it," Sydney sighed as Bob was saying . . .
"I don't have the best memory, so I write down how to work all of my creations in case I forget, or in case Reger has to work them. Reger's not the smartest bucket in the tool shed." Sydney's forehead wrinkled in confusion. What the heck did he just say?
"Do you mean ' not the sharpest tool in the shed'?"
"Nope, Reger's not the smartest bucket in the tool shed." Still faced with Sydney's perplexity, Bob just said, "Oh, forget it. You'll see later." Instead of accompanying that devilish statement with an equally satanic laugh, Bob smiled, making Sydney feel almost comfortable, but also extremely suspicious. She didn't know how to deal with a bad guy like this. She'd had to face all sorts of psychos, but none as odd as this dude (well, maybe the creepy dentist guy who got paralyzed, but that was odd in a completely different spectrum).
Sydney was about to ask who, or is it whom, Reger was and when would she see him when there was a crash in the back room. Bob turned around abruptly and stalked out of the room.
Syd laid, or is it lied, in silence for a few seconds, wondering what could possibly be happening. Bob still hadn't loosened the restraints and Syd was finding it harder and harder to move and consequently, to breath.
Bob rushed back in, a flurry of lab coats and long gray hair. He ran to a corner of the room and started making tapping sounds on what one can only assume was a computer. Out of nowhere a song began playing. Well, maybe the song came from the computer, but Sydney pondered it all the same.
'What's that song? Where is it coming from?' Sydney thought.
"You'll see," Bob mysteriously responded to her silent inquiries, and hastened out of the room yet again before Sydney could question his mind reading techniques.
Syd waited another impossibly long time, listening to the song. She knew that it was an important clue, otherwise Bob wouldn't have turned the music on, but she couldn't make out the words for the life of her.
Bob stumbled back in. He turned the music up louder. Finally Sydney knew what she was listening to.
"My boyfriend's back and there's gonna be trouble."
"NO! Not that song PLEASE!" Sydney screeched.
"How did lover-boy know that you were here?" Bob interrogated her.
"Lover boy? Vaughn? How the heck should I know?" Sydney shouted. "Just turn the damn music off!"
"Didn't your mother ever tell you to watch your mouth?" Bob questioned in a menacing voice.
"What, when she was stealing government secrets from my father? I don't think so. And Vaughn works for the CIA, they've probably been watching you since I got kidnapped. They're good. Well, some of them are dim wits, but Vaughn's good. Oh yeah, Vaughn is definitely good." Sydney's mind wandered off down a very very dirty little pathway.
Bob slowly lowered the volume.
"I believe you, but if I find out that you had any part in his rescue efforts it will be Britney Spears and N*Sync for you."
"No! It wasn't me!" The music was finally all the way off, and Sydney was regaining the use of her mental capabilities. "Where's Vaughn? What did you do to him?"
"Lover boy is indisposed at the moment." Bob finally let out his evil demonic laugh that is known and loved by villains everywhere.
"NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
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A/N : Haha Cliffy. But is it the end? Leave reviews and you will find out *lets out demonic laugh similar to Bob's*
