Jake sat contemplating the plane for a few minutes.

"It's ready, Jake," said Chance.

Glancing over at Chance briefly, Jake turned back to the plane. "Maybe we should recheck the thrusters."

"We've checked them three times. You chickenin' out on me here?"

"Yeah."

Chance stopped dead. That wasn't what he was expecting to hear. "What?"

"It's...I dunno, buddy. It's one thing to say it'll fly. It's another to put your tail on the line and test it out." Jake shook his head. "Oh, I'll fly in the darn thing. I'm just wondering how stupid I am for doing it."

"At least as dumb as me. You ready?"

Jake shrugged. "Ready as I'll ever be."

He followed Chance out of the hangar, back to their rooms. Once Chance reached his room, he started taking off his T-shirt, then stopped. "Where you wanna take 'er?" he yelled out the door.

A few seconds later, he heard Jake yell back. "Somewhere where there aren't a lot of kats roaming around. How about...Chooser's Canyon?"

Chance grinned. "Just what I was thinking." He tossed his shirt aside and pulled out a pair of coveralls. After slipping them on and zipping them up, he opened a dresser drawer and began fishing around.

Jake stuck his head back into the room, adjusting his coveralls. "Let's just hope no Enforcers are hanging out there today."

"S'OK," said Chance. "Got it covered." Out of his dresser, he pulled out some black items. He handed one to Jake, who held it up without comprehension.

"What's this?"

By way of answer, Chance tied his over his head. Jake rolled his eyes.

"Chance, you can not be serious."

"Why not? This way, even if the Enforcers're there, they won't know it's us."

"Chance, you read too many comic books."

"Do not. And they're graphic novels."

"Listen, Chance, I'm not putting on a mask. We're not playing around here."

"Speak for y'rself, Clawson." Chance grinned quickly, then tapped his claw on his dresser. "Look, there's a reason the good guys wear masks in those books. It's f'r exactly this reason - so they don't get recognized."

Jake held up the mask in disgust. "I don't believe it."

"No, it's true."

"I know it's true, Chance. I just don't believe that you're actually right about something." He smiled, then tied the mask around his head. He walked into the room and looked in the mirror Chance had above his dresser.

"See?" said Chance. "You look cool."

Jake shook his head. "I look like a raccoon." Resigned, he went on, "Well, as long as we're taking lessons from these...graphic novels of yours, we may as well go all the way. Anything else?"

"Whatcha mean?"

"Well, what else are we supposed to do? Aren't we supposed to get a butler named Albert or something?"

"Alfred," corrected Chance. "But we can't afford a butler." Chance paused and thought. "Oh, yeah. We might want to get new names."

"New names," repeated Jake.

"Yeah. 'Cause we're gonna be talkin' to each other on the radio, and if the Enforcers pick up on us calling each other 'Jake and Chance', we're cooked."

"Hm, good point." Jake grinned. "So who are we gonna be? Mister Wonderful and his sidekick Buddy?"

Chance shook his head. "Nah, I think I already got a name for you."

"What's that?"

"Remember back when we were kits? And we played Protectors?"

Jake sat down on Chance's bed and rubbed his eyes through the mask. "Are you going to bring up every single one of my embarrassing kithood memories?"

"Well, all the ones I can remember, anyway."

Sighing, Jake said, "Yeah, OK. We pretended we were superheroes like the Protectors. So?"

"So?" repeated Chance. "Remember your superhero name? The Razor?"

"Yeah." Jake shook his head. "Great name, huh?"

"Well, I thought it was cool. I still think it's cool. I say, use it again."

"Rrrright," said Jake cynically.

"No, I'm serious! You be Razor, and I'll be..." Chance trailed off.

Suddenly Jake laughed. "What? You don't want to use your Protectors name?"

"Well, it's not exactly fittin' anymore, is it?" growled Chance.

"C'mon. 'Razor and Speedy' has kind of a ring to it." Jake thought for a second, then said, "Hey, I know what would work."

"What?"

"Remember back when you worked at Pizza Pit?"

"Yeah," muttered Chance, "but I'm tryin' to forget."

"Well, remember what the boss kept calling you?"

"Yeah. T-Bone."

"Why not that?"

"Jake, he only called me T-Bone because he couldn't remember my name."

"So what? 'T-Bone and Razor' sounds cool, doesn't it?"

Chance frowned for a second, then nodded. "That'll work. At least it's not 'Speedy'."

"Done." Razor stood up and indicated the door. "After you, T-Bone."

T-Bone headed out the door, with Razor behind. Once in the hangar, they climbed into the cockpit of their recently completed plane. T-Bone paused before putting on his helmet. "Any words of wisdom before we put our lives on the line here?"

"Yeah," said Razor. "I say put the oxygen masks on now. I don't know how easy it'll be to put them on once we're airborne."

"Gotcha."

"Better do a radio test, too, before we get too deep." Razor put his helmet on, and waited for T-Bone to do the same. Once they were situated, Razor punched a few buttons. "Razor calling T-Bone. You read?" He waited for a few seconds until he saw T-Bone shake his head and point to his helmet. Razor pushed a few more buttons and tried again. "Razor calling T-Bone. You copy, T-Bone?"

"Yeah, copy now, Razor," he heard.

"Cool. You might want to crank the volume on these. Remember, I haven't finished soundproofing this wreck, and it's gonna get loud."

"Roger." T-Bone fiddled with his helmet a bit, then put his oxygen mask on. "OK. You ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," said Razor. He put his restraining belts on and nodded.

"Then let's light this firecracker." T-Bone pulled a handle to his side, and the cockpit closed with a somewhat louder-than-expected thump.

Razor closed his eyes and tried to keep from panicking. He saw T-Bone press a few more buttons, and he felt the thrusters behind him kick to life. Desperate to keep from obsessing, he stared at the control panel in front of him. A bewildering array of buttons, switches, and lights greeted his eyes. I probably should have labeled these, he thought. Never mind, I can remember. Let's see, he thought, touching the panel nearest his right paw. These buttons and switches control the main missile launchers. These ones to the left are for the machine guns. To the left of that...

Razor was suddenly thrust back into his seat, and he jerked his head up. T-Bone was building up speed. The piles of trash to the sides of the plane began blurring into indistinct blurs. Razor took a deep breath as he felt T-Bone tilt the plane up. The loud rumbling of the tires on the ground suddenly ceased, and the plane began its ascent. After a few seconds of smooth climbing, Razor let his breath out. He felt the tires retracting into the body, and suddenly felt his body go somewhat limp. He couldn't remember feeling so relieved.

"Yeah!" Razor screamed.

It was loud, but he heard T-Bone's voice click into his helmet. "Ha ha! What'd I tell you, buddy!"

"I didn't realize how bad I wanted to get back in the air," said Razor, loudly so that T-Bone could hear.

"Not as bad as me!" T-Bone began turning the plane to head south. "Next stop, Chooser's Canyon!"