"I never discuss scientific research with big dummies."
"Then perhaps you'll discuss with your former partner, Dr. Hamsterviel."
"Hamsterviel is...alive?"
-- Jumba and Gantu, Stitch the Movie
*******************************************
"Are you going for a record?" yelled Hamsterviel.
"The two experiments escaped," explained Gantu sheepishly.
"Which ones were they?"
"079 and 611."
The hamster laughed. "611? You could not manage that one."
Not thinking, Gantu retorted, "How do you know?!"
"Because I knew that experiment personally!" Hamsterviel leaned back in his chair. "You see, it was a long time ago..."
*********************************************
(Kwelterkwan)
"Six hundred and ten experiments...six hundred and ten dehydrations." Dr. Jacques von Hamsterviel, in a white lab coat in lieu of his red cape, rubbed his hands together. "What have you made now?"
Dr. Jumba Jookiba pointed to what looked like a lime green and pink coupe. "Allow me to be presenting the lovely Experiment 611: the Ultimate Superweapon."
The partner looked dubious. "A car?"
Jumba grinned as hundreds of lasers and plasma cannons popped out of 611. "Only looks like car. And she can become any sort of vehicle, except for watercraft. Will rust her finish." 611 transmuted into a rocket, helicopter, go-cart, and a 1958 red Plymouth Fury in succession."
"Ooh, does it have a cupholder?" asked Hamsterviel.
"Three!"
The white hamster-like alien peered in through the window. "And leather upholstery!"
Jumba ran a fat finger along 611's metal grille. "And she doesn't talk back, like ex-wife."
Hamsterviel held out a check. "Here's your next payment."
"Will have 612 ready by end of month."
"Do you mind if I take Experiment 611 for a...test run?"
"Am not recommending it. 611 does not like strangers."
This got a laugh from Hamsterviel. "Now, now, Jumba. You don't think these experiments have FEELINGS, do you?"
"This one loves her evil genius creator," cooed Jumba in reply. "Don't you, my little boochie-boo?" 611 made a purring sound.
"I'll double that payment if you let me take it for a spin."
"Her, not it!"
"Whatever! Triple!"
"I don't know--"
"Quadruple!"
"Well, 611 is self-repairing, so I suppose it'd be all right."
"Excellent!" Hamsterviel tore up the original check and wrote another. Then the door to the driver's seat opened. A small staircase descended. The hamster climbed in, and pulled on the seat belt. "This chair is like sitting on a cloud!" The experiment pulled out, and drove away.
Since the experiment was self-driving, Hamsterviel didn't even have to steer, which was good -- since he couldn't reach the pedals anyway. "Look ma, no steering wheel! Faster!"
The vehicle obeyed, accelerating to sixty miles per hour.
"Ah, when I conquer the Galatic Empire, this will my personal transport!"
The locks on the doors clicked, but the lone passenger was too busy admiring his reflection in the rearview mirror.
611, who would later earn the name Christine, quietly seethed. She couldn't shake the feeling of something sinister about Hamsterviel. He was a danger to her creator. Suddenly, she sped up to one hundred miles per hour.
Now Hamsterviel was a little worried. "Slow down!"
But she didn't slow. The speedometer now read 150 mph.
The mad scientist felt beads of sweat forming. "Stop, you oh-so-speedy car, you!" A lump formed in his throat as the speedometer needle moved from 150 to 200. The tire-like feet were screeching across the slate pavement. Hamsterviel tried to undo his seatbelt, but it was stuck. He tried to open the door, but it was locked. I'm trapped!
There was a horrible CRRRRRASH! 611 slammed head-on into a concrete culvert. Glass from the windshield littered the dashboard. Tiny shards adhered to Hamsterviel's fur and clothes.
611 didn't stop. She reversed, backing up into a steel guardrail. The passenger screamed as the rail bent and allowed the car-like experiment to roll into a ravine. It turned over twice.
"It's mad! It's trying to kill me!"
What was your first clue, you idiotic gerbil? 611 thought to herself as she came to a complete stop. She was in total pain. Her metal body was scratched and dented. Two of her feet had been punctured. She could no longer drive in a straight line. The glass windows were shattered. 611 generally looked like an extra in a disaster movie. Yet she didn't care. Her hatred of Hamsterviel overrode her desire to save herself. The headlight eyes closed, and her breathing became ragged. Several of her plasma shooters had exploded, leaving burns and pits down her sides.
By now, Hamsterviel's fur was soaked in sweat. One hand clutched his chest. "Jumba! He planned this!" He cut off his seat belt with a sharp piece of glass and shoved open the door. 611 was too weak to resist. "That four-eyed fatso planned for me to ride this experiment so it would kill me and he could keep them all for himself!" He shook a fist in the general direction of Jumba's lab. "I'll get you for this, Jookiba! Mark my sentences!" The would-be conquerer pulled off a burnt piece of his fur and left it on the seat. "YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THE LAST OF JACQUES VON HAMSTERVIEL!" He coughed, then spat. "Ach. Hairball!"
***********************************************
"So," continued Hamsterviel. "My so-called death was in the papers. Jumba found the wrecked experiment in that ravine and healed it. It took him months, but he did it. Then he had to dehydrate 611 following a scandal--"
"Zzzz..." Gantu had fallen asleep.
"GANTU! Stop with all the sleeping while I'm reminiscing!"
"Sorry, sir." Why couldn't 625 be around to make a sarcastic comment here?
"Get me 611! Now!"
"With all due respect, sir, why would you want that abomination if it tried to kill you?"
"Are you crazy? All wheel drive, cruise control, and anti-lock brakes? It may be stubborn, but it's an oh-so-cool ride!"
"How will I teleport it to you?"
"Coax it into shrinking into a toy car, then trap it in a capsule! Do I have to do all the thinking myself?!"
"And 079?"
"WHAT DO YOU THINK?!"
***********************************************
625 was sitting up on his silk sheets. The twins had returned to bed and were snoring away.
"They used me," the yellow koala-like creature growled. He climbed out of the bed and went outside via the dog door.
Stitch was still on the ground, moping over his exile.
"Cuz?" No answer. "Cousin?" Nothing. "SIX TWO SIX! I KNOW YOU'RE NOT ASLEEP, SO QUIT PRETENDING!"
Stitch groaned.
625 leaned against him, trying to get him up. "Cut the wallowing in self-pity." The blue alien wasn't budging. 625 pressed harder. It was like trying to move a mountain. He groaned. "Look, I knew I was a jerk. But it's not my fault. Villefort and Maharene did it. They're using us as pawns in some sort of game."
"Ah, cachaba." ("Yeah right.")
"I'm serious! I lied. I didn't run away from Gantu. He sold me to the Twin Terrors in exchange for two experiment pods. The same experiments you recovered earlier."
Stitch gazed at his yellow cousin in the moonlight. He wanted to believe 625 was lying, but wanted to believe him. "Gaba?!"
"You fail to save the cousins, you fail to save the little girl, you get thrown out. It was all to put pressure on you. Break your spirit. They made a bet. To see if you'd go back to your original 'destroy everything' programming."
Stitch let out a howl of rage. He knew his lazy cousin all too well. The sandwich-maker would never put all the effort into making up such a lie. The back spines, arms, and antennae poking out, 626 ran to a tree and carved effigies of Maharene and Villefort. With a swipe of his sharp claws, he knocked the heads off.
"That reminds me," 625 dove through the dog door and returned with a jug of vinegar. "There's something you should see."
The two experiments climbed aboard Jumba's lab/ship. The scientist had fallen asleep at his table. Gas tanks, broken pencil leads, and the cure beaker were on the table. 625 took the beaker and poured in some vinegar.
Stitch warily took the container, then shrugged and dumped it on the gold Lilo.
Lilo's eyes fluttered. Her arms moved. She suddenly sneezed. Clouds of gold dust billowed in the air. But underneath, the little girl was flesh once again.
Stitch was overjoyed. "Lilo!"
Jumba awoke. "Ah, little girl. I see 626 has found some acetic acid."
"Naga," admitted the blue extraterrestrial. "625."
Jumba looked confused. "But how did prodigal experiment know where to find missing chemical?"
"You have to ask?" the yellow experiment responded sarcastically. "You programmed us to think like supercomputers."
The scientist turned back to Stitch. "Why didn't you know that?"
Lilo interrupted. "Now we have to find a home for Midas."
"It's too late now," Jumba advised. "Can wait till tomorrow. You don't hold grudge against 079?"
"Nope. It was the big stinkyhead's fault."
The foursome returned to the house. Lilo found a pair of oven mitts and opened Midas' capsule. She slipped the mittens on the experiment's front paws. The cloth turned to gold, but blocked his paws from touching anything else. "There. So you don't accidentally turn stuff to gold. We'll take them off when we find your one true place." Midas hugged her.
625 yawned. "Too bad we can't get back at Villefort and Maharene for what they did."
Stitch gave a mischievous grin. "Wanna bet?"
TBC
"Then perhaps you'll discuss with your former partner, Dr. Hamsterviel."
"Hamsterviel is...alive?"
-- Jumba and Gantu, Stitch the Movie
*******************************************
"Are you going for a record?" yelled Hamsterviel.
"The two experiments escaped," explained Gantu sheepishly.
"Which ones were they?"
"079 and 611."
The hamster laughed. "611? You could not manage that one."
Not thinking, Gantu retorted, "How do you know?!"
"Because I knew that experiment personally!" Hamsterviel leaned back in his chair. "You see, it was a long time ago..."
*********************************************
(Kwelterkwan)
"Six hundred and ten experiments...six hundred and ten dehydrations." Dr. Jacques von Hamsterviel, in a white lab coat in lieu of his red cape, rubbed his hands together. "What have you made now?"
Dr. Jumba Jookiba pointed to what looked like a lime green and pink coupe. "Allow me to be presenting the lovely Experiment 611: the Ultimate Superweapon."
The partner looked dubious. "A car?"
Jumba grinned as hundreds of lasers and plasma cannons popped out of 611. "Only looks like car. And she can become any sort of vehicle, except for watercraft. Will rust her finish." 611 transmuted into a rocket, helicopter, go-cart, and a 1958 red Plymouth Fury in succession."
"Ooh, does it have a cupholder?" asked Hamsterviel.
"Three!"
The white hamster-like alien peered in through the window. "And leather upholstery!"
Jumba ran a fat finger along 611's metal grille. "And she doesn't talk back, like ex-wife."
Hamsterviel held out a check. "Here's your next payment."
"Will have 612 ready by end of month."
"Do you mind if I take Experiment 611 for a...test run?"
"Am not recommending it. 611 does not like strangers."
This got a laugh from Hamsterviel. "Now, now, Jumba. You don't think these experiments have FEELINGS, do you?"
"This one loves her evil genius creator," cooed Jumba in reply. "Don't you, my little boochie-boo?" 611 made a purring sound.
"I'll double that payment if you let me take it for a spin."
"Her, not it!"
"Whatever! Triple!"
"I don't know--"
"Quadruple!"
"Well, 611 is self-repairing, so I suppose it'd be all right."
"Excellent!" Hamsterviel tore up the original check and wrote another. Then the door to the driver's seat opened. A small staircase descended. The hamster climbed in, and pulled on the seat belt. "This chair is like sitting on a cloud!" The experiment pulled out, and drove away.
Since the experiment was self-driving, Hamsterviel didn't even have to steer, which was good -- since he couldn't reach the pedals anyway. "Look ma, no steering wheel! Faster!"
The vehicle obeyed, accelerating to sixty miles per hour.
"Ah, when I conquer the Galatic Empire, this will my personal transport!"
The locks on the doors clicked, but the lone passenger was too busy admiring his reflection in the rearview mirror.
611, who would later earn the name Christine, quietly seethed. She couldn't shake the feeling of something sinister about Hamsterviel. He was a danger to her creator. Suddenly, she sped up to one hundred miles per hour.
Now Hamsterviel was a little worried. "Slow down!"
But she didn't slow. The speedometer now read 150 mph.
The mad scientist felt beads of sweat forming. "Stop, you oh-so-speedy car, you!" A lump formed in his throat as the speedometer needle moved from 150 to 200. The tire-like feet were screeching across the slate pavement. Hamsterviel tried to undo his seatbelt, but it was stuck. He tried to open the door, but it was locked. I'm trapped!
There was a horrible CRRRRRASH! 611 slammed head-on into a concrete culvert. Glass from the windshield littered the dashboard. Tiny shards adhered to Hamsterviel's fur and clothes.
611 didn't stop. She reversed, backing up into a steel guardrail. The passenger screamed as the rail bent and allowed the car-like experiment to roll into a ravine. It turned over twice.
"It's mad! It's trying to kill me!"
What was your first clue, you idiotic gerbil? 611 thought to herself as she came to a complete stop. She was in total pain. Her metal body was scratched and dented. Two of her feet had been punctured. She could no longer drive in a straight line. The glass windows were shattered. 611 generally looked like an extra in a disaster movie. Yet she didn't care. Her hatred of Hamsterviel overrode her desire to save herself. The headlight eyes closed, and her breathing became ragged. Several of her plasma shooters had exploded, leaving burns and pits down her sides.
By now, Hamsterviel's fur was soaked in sweat. One hand clutched his chest. "Jumba! He planned this!" He cut off his seat belt with a sharp piece of glass and shoved open the door. 611 was too weak to resist. "That four-eyed fatso planned for me to ride this experiment so it would kill me and he could keep them all for himself!" He shook a fist in the general direction of Jumba's lab. "I'll get you for this, Jookiba! Mark my sentences!" The would-be conquerer pulled off a burnt piece of his fur and left it on the seat. "YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THE LAST OF JACQUES VON HAMSTERVIEL!" He coughed, then spat. "Ach. Hairball!"
***********************************************
"So," continued Hamsterviel. "My so-called death was in the papers. Jumba found the wrecked experiment in that ravine and healed it. It took him months, but he did it. Then he had to dehydrate 611 following a scandal--"
"Zzzz..." Gantu had fallen asleep.
"GANTU! Stop with all the sleeping while I'm reminiscing!"
"Sorry, sir." Why couldn't 625 be around to make a sarcastic comment here?
"Get me 611! Now!"
"With all due respect, sir, why would you want that abomination if it tried to kill you?"
"Are you crazy? All wheel drive, cruise control, and anti-lock brakes? It may be stubborn, but it's an oh-so-cool ride!"
"How will I teleport it to you?"
"Coax it into shrinking into a toy car, then trap it in a capsule! Do I have to do all the thinking myself?!"
"And 079?"
"WHAT DO YOU THINK?!"
***********************************************
625 was sitting up on his silk sheets. The twins had returned to bed and were snoring away.
"They used me," the yellow koala-like creature growled. He climbed out of the bed and went outside via the dog door.
Stitch was still on the ground, moping over his exile.
"Cuz?" No answer. "Cousin?" Nothing. "SIX TWO SIX! I KNOW YOU'RE NOT ASLEEP, SO QUIT PRETENDING!"
Stitch groaned.
625 leaned against him, trying to get him up. "Cut the wallowing in self-pity." The blue alien wasn't budging. 625 pressed harder. It was like trying to move a mountain. He groaned. "Look, I knew I was a jerk. But it's not my fault. Villefort and Maharene did it. They're using us as pawns in some sort of game."
"Ah, cachaba." ("Yeah right.")
"I'm serious! I lied. I didn't run away from Gantu. He sold me to the Twin Terrors in exchange for two experiment pods. The same experiments you recovered earlier."
Stitch gazed at his yellow cousin in the moonlight. He wanted to believe 625 was lying, but wanted to believe him. "Gaba?!"
"You fail to save the cousins, you fail to save the little girl, you get thrown out. It was all to put pressure on you. Break your spirit. They made a bet. To see if you'd go back to your original 'destroy everything' programming."
Stitch let out a howl of rage. He knew his lazy cousin all too well. The sandwich-maker would never put all the effort into making up such a lie. The back spines, arms, and antennae poking out, 626 ran to a tree and carved effigies of Maharene and Villefort. With a swipe of his sharp claws, he knocked the heads off.
"That reminds me," 625 dove through the dog door and returned with a jug of vinegar. "There's something you should see."
The two experiments climbed aboard Jumba's lab/ship. The scientist had fallen asleep at his table. Gas tanks, broken pencil leads, and the cure beaker were on the table. 625 took the beaker and poured in some vinegar.
Stitch warily took the container, then shrugged and dumped it on the gold Lilo.
Lilo's eyes fluttered. Her arms moved. She suddenly sneezed. Clouds of gold dust billowed in the air. But underneath, the little girl was flesh once again.
Stitch was overjoyed. "Lilo!"
Jumba awoke. "Ah, little girl. I see 626 has found some acetic acid."
"Naga," admitted the blue extraterrestrial. "625."
Jumba looked confused. "But how did prodigal experiment know where to find missing chemical?"
"You have to ask?" the yellow experiment responded sarcastically. "You programmed us to think like supercomputers."
The scientist turned back to Stitch. "Why didn't you know that?"
Lilo interrupted. "Now we have to find a home for Midas."
"It's too late now," Jumba advised. "Can wait till tomorrow. You don't hold grudge against 079?"
"Nope. It was the big stinkyhead's fault."
The foursome returned to the house. Lilo found a pair of oven mitts and opened Midas' capsule. She slipped the mittens on the experiment's front paws. The cloth turned to gold, but blocked his paws from touching anything else. "There. So you don't accidentally turn stuff to gold. We'll take them off when we find your one true place." Midas hugged her.
625 yawned. "Too bad we can't get back at Villefort and Maharene for what they did."
Stitch gave a mischievous grin. "Wanna bet?"
TBC