Everything goes Nutso, Ratchet and Clank
by SoulfulZen
Chapter 2: A date, a toilet, and insanity
Ratchet finally gets a date with Angela (maybe more) and screws it up, Clank learns the mechanics of the organic bladder, and the cosmic misalignment causes crazier stuff. RatchetxAngela (which is far too rare today). Oh yeah, happens about three years after Going Commando. PG-13 for language and vague drug reference, as well as use of alcohol, dating, romance, reference to urination, and some randomness.
Disclaimer: None of this crazy crap is mine. Ratchet and Clank and all affiliates belong to Insomniac studios. The Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster belongs to Douglas Adams. Most of the foods come from something that I or my parents have eaten.
Clank is feeling itchy in his legs. He's FEELING itchy. Plus, Ratchet twisted his ankle and couldn't tell until after he saw his foot pointing backwards. This story assumes that Ratchet moved to a less barren planet into a new house after his second adventure. The house is on Endako, in the suburbs of Megapolis, and yes, I am also assuming that it has suburbs.
Ratchet: (snoozing on the couch) Damn migets, where's my gun?
Clank: Ratchet? (pokes him in the side)
Ratchet: (waking up) REDNECKS! Err... what?
Clank: Rednecks?
Ratchet: Sorry. I'm just a little sleepy and all. What were you saying?
Clank: You have a phone call.
Ratchet: Thanks. (picks up phone) Hello?
Angela: Hi, Ratchet?
Ratchet: Hey Angela.
Angela: Thanks again for saving me from that slime planet.
Ratchet: Hey, no problem. Anything for you.
Angela: Thanks. Sooooo, I was thinking of how to repay you. (begins blushing) Could I, er, uh, buy you dinner sometime?
Ratchet: (blushes furiously) Uh, no need. You don't owe me anything.
Angela: But I insist!
Ratchet: Alright. So, um, did you, er, have anything in mind?
Angela: Well, um, (blushes absolutely furiously) do you like seafood? Because I know this cozy little place on Pokitaru, and I wanted to show it to you. It's really nice.
Ratchet: (blushes an impossibly deep shade of red) Uh, sure! Seafood's excellent! So, er, when were you thinking on doing this?
Angela: Uh, (blushes the same shade of red) how about, er, I mean if you don't have plans...
Ratchet: I don't have plans for another week.
Angela: (to self) Yes! (out loud) How about, um, uh, er, (gets redder than physically possible) tonight?
Ratchet: (gets just as red) Uh, sure! That's perfect! So, when can I pick you up?
Angela: Actually, why don't we, uh, meet at the beach by the landing dock in the resort? Say, uh 7:45?
Ratchet: Wonderful. See you then. Bye.
Angela: Bye. (both hang up) Sigh, I love him. (blushing fades)
At Ratchet's brand-new house, at the same time, Ratchet is on cloud nine.
Clank: Ratchet? Is everything okay?
Ratchet: (in an odd voice, acting stoned) Yupper doodles! Everything is hunky dory! Just wonderful! (smiles very stupidly, in a way that can be only described as either stoned out of his mind or struck on the head by a very large, hard, blunt object, such as a cinderblock) Okay, I'm gonna go get some sleepytime! Hehe! (skips off to his room)
Clank: Ratchet just skipped. He warned me what to do if this happened.
Begin Flashback to six months ago, at Ratchet's house old house on Veldin
Clank: But what do prosthetics have to do with sniffing dried, powdered sap through a straw?
Ratchet: What the hell did you just say?
Clank: Erm, nothing. What were you saying again?
Ratchet: Yeah. If you see me skip, please hit me on the head with a blunt object or slap me hard. Got it?
Clank: Understood.
Back in Ratchet's room, he is lying in bed just giggling. Clank walks in.
Clank: This is for your own good. (bitch-slaps him hard as hell)
Ratchet: Yeow! Thanks. I just hope it doesn't leave a mark. (looks at self in mirror, no mark) Whew.
Clank: Why were you skipping?
Ratchet: Er, um, uh, erm, uh, that, uh, information is, er, um, on a need to know basis, and you, uh, don't need to know?
Clank: Ah.
Ratchet: I'd better leave in an hour. I'll go get ready. Just let me wake my hand up. (begins rubbing right hand) Damn it's cold.
Clank: Your hand?
Ratchet: Obviously.
(one hour later, Ratchet is in a nice hawaiian tuxedo, no oxy-moron intended)
Clank: (sniffing a dry-erase marker) Mmm.
Ratchet: (bursting in) Ta da! How do I look?
Clank: (tries to hide marker and matching smudge on nose) Ahh! Oh. Er, you look great.
Ratchet: Seriously?
Clank: Really.
Ratchet: Well, I'd better get going. And, er, what's that smudge on your face?
Clank: Nothing!
Ratchet: Okaaaay. (leaves and flies off)
Clank: Whew.
(half an hour later, Clank is on his fifth marker, now also watching adult television programs.
Clank: Mmm, sweet nudity and dry erase markers.
Suddenly, his eyes widened as a pressure above his legs began making it's presence know.
Clank: Bathroom! (runs to bathroom)
From the bathroom is heard sounds of flowing liquid, then flushing. Clank walks back out, sits down, begins to continue sniffing, but then pauses.
Clank: What just happened?
(same time, on Pokitaru)
Ratchet had landed about ten minutes ago, the valet has parked his ship, and he is sitting on the pier, dangling his feet. Angela lands behind him.
Angela: Hey! Ratchet!
She hops out of her ship and gives her keys to the valet. She is wearing an aquamarine dress, and looks quite stunning.
Ratchet: Angela! (begins blushing) Hi! You look awesome!
Angela: Thanks. (blushes) You too.
Ratchet: Thanks. (blushes even more)
Angela: Ready to eat?
Ratchet: You know it.
They then walked to the restaurant without incident. The restaurant was a quiet little place, looking like a large beachside cabin, soaked with saltwater with a painted sign over the door. However, the small windows glowed with an inviting warmth, like a house with a small group of friends having a quiet get-together. Inside, it had small tables for two, booths for two, and in the cornet, it had two big couches that each sit three. Between them there was a bamboo table. The bar was made of a warm, reddish wood with a thin coating of plastic to prevent splintering. The chairs were small and wiry, but very comfortable and strong. The tables were wire frames with black marble tops, and had a 2-foot diameter for close couples seating. The small, one-legged, wooden tables for the booths had a 3-foot diagonal. They were of the same material as the main bar. Also, near the couches was a roaring woodfire, burning quite an aeromatic wood. All in all, a beautiful place for couples and small parties to dine. The Bartender was Michael Jackson. I'm not talking about the "it" that molests small boys. He's a freak. I am talking about Michael Jackson, the British beer expert. He's cool. The name and skin color is where the similarities end. They're both white people named Michael Jackson. One is an it, the other is a man. One is a black-haired, clean shaven person, the other has brownish hair, a moustache and a beard. One's American, the other's British. The menues were a light tan with hints of sea-blue. The binding around the plastic was a forest green, and the metal corners were shaped like seashells. Also, they were very thick, with almost 10 pages. The silverware was pretty much nondescript. This is only so detailed because I want to put a detailed picture in the reader's mind. The waiters and waitresses had tan rugby shirts and dark, dark, almost-black brown pants. After I was done explaining, Ratchet and Angela walked in.
Ratchet: Wow. This place looks and smells awesome.
Waiter: Hi. Would you like some cocktails before dinner?
Angela: Why not?
The waiter brought them to the bar. They took two stools next to each other.
Jackson: Hi, what's your pleasure?
Angela: What do you have?
Jackson: Everything.
A man at the end of the bar begins speaking.
Man: Excuse me? Bartender? I'd like a Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster.
Jackson: (raises an eyebrow) Alright. You'd better have a strong stomach. (brings out a fizzing green drink) Here ya go. (goes over to Ratchet and Angela) So, what did you want?
Ratchet: What's up with that Pan Galactic Gargle thingy?
Jackson: The Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster? Just watch.
As they watched, the man drained his glass. His eyes bugged out and his skin reddened. He began twitching. He almost looked like he was having a seizure. But, then, he just stopped and uttered two words.
Man: Holy shat!
Then he fainted.
Jackson: So, you want one?
Ratchet: No thanks.
Angela: Me neither. I'll just stick to, er, do you have anything that's sort of low alcohol? I kind of have a low tolerance for the stuff.
Jackson: Try a pussyfoot.
Angela: Is it any good?
Jackson: Quite tasty, and alcohol free.
Angela: I'll go with that.
Jackson: And you sir?
Ratchet: What'sa vodka martinicalled?
Jackson:A kangaroo, also known as a vodkatini. I say kangaroo because it's a nicer name.
Ratchet: Alright then, one kangaroo.
Jackson: One pussyfoot, one kangaroo, coming right up.
With the immense skill that he had, the drinks were ready in a moment.
Angela: Thanks.
Jackson: No problem. That's what I get paid for. (walks off)
Angela: What a nice man.
Ratchet: I agree.
Angela: But you're still cuter.
Ratchet: (seriously blushes) Thanks.
As they were chatting, they sipped their drinks slowly.
Ratchet: So, when did you find out about this little place?
Angela: Back when I helped design the protopet, the team leader asked us all to meet here. I instantly fell in love with the place.
Ratchet: Love at first sight, eh?
Angela: Hmm.
Ratchet: Hmm.
They began just staring into each other's eyes lovingly and smiling. And sipping their drinks. They got slowly closer. Their drinks were finished. They were almost kissing they were so close.
Waiter: (breaking the silence) Uh, are you ready to eat?
Ratchet: (shaking himself) Wha... oh yeah. Dinner. Uh, Angela?
Angela: (blinking) Dinner? Oh yeah. I'm ready if he's ready.
Ratchet: I'm ready.
Waiter: (thought) Shoot. I just broke a romantic gaze. I wish I hadn't. (out loud) Chairs or booth?
Ratchet: Either.
Angela: Chairs.
Waiter: Chairs?
Ratchet: Chairs it is.
Waiter: Good. Please follow me.
The two sat at the table that the waiter stood by.
Waiter: By the way, name is Matt, and I will be your server for the night. Can I get you some drinks?
Ratchet: What beers do you have?
Matt: May I recommend one of our microbrews. We have Flat Tire, Laughing Lab, IPA, and Road Dog.
FYI, I'm just naming some beers that I've seen in my family's garage, which is where we keep any food that we don't need inside at the immediate moment, because we buy mostly in bulk. They're all local beers, so unless you're from the Centennial state, you wouldn't have heard of them. To quote a state motto joke, "Don't ski? Don't bother."
Ratchet: I'll go with a Flat Tire. Angela?
Angela: I'll have a raspberry iced tea.
Matt. Wonderful. (brings out two menues) Here are your menues. I'll be back in a moment with your drinks.
He leaves and the two lombaxes begin leafing through their menues.
Ratchet: Hmm. The mahi-mahi burger sounds decadent. What sounds good to you?
Angela: I'm stuck between the clams casino and the lobster bisque. What do you think?
Ratchet: (flips to the page) I personally would go with the lobster bisque. It sounds delicious. But that's just me.
Angela: I know, its just that it has heavy cream.
Ratchet: Ah.
Angela: Hmm, I'll go with the... lobster bisque. Hey, maybe the next time we hang out we could go to the gym.
Ratchet: (laughs) Ha! With your figure? Probably not. You'd probably have to eat five bowls of that bisque to need to work out.
Angela: (gigles and blushes) Thanks.
Matt: And here are your drinks. Now, have you decided on something to eat yet?
Angela: I'll have the lobster bisque.
Matt: Decadent. I don't recommend looking in the mirror for a while though, that stuff has a big chunk of lobster and then a pitcher of warm, specially seasoned heavy cream.
Angela: (jaw drops) Wow.
Matt: Second thoughts?
Angela: Hmm... no. I need an excuse to go to the gym. (thought) And maybe take Ratchet with me.
Ratchet: I'll have the mahi-mahi burger.
Matt: One warning, don't put it down, or else it will completely fall apart. It's that tender.
Matt wrote the orders down and walked off. The two began the small talk.
Ratchet: Soooo, how have you been doing?
Angela: Pretty good, with the exception of the slimeball that I got stuck on. How about you?
Ratchet: Just a little strangeness. Other than that and you getting stuck in that slimeball planet, pretty great.
Ratchet just stared at Angela for a minute.
Angela: What?
Ratchet: I just never really realized how infinitelybeautiful you are.
Angela: (blushes redder than a lobster shell) Aww, how sweet.
Then, it was happening again. The two were just staring into each other's eyes. They were getting closer by the second. They were just staring at each other, as if there was nothing in the universe but themselves. However, there was obviously a waiter also in the near vicinity.
Matt: Um, excuse me, but your food's ready.
Ratchet: Hmm? Oh yeah. Food. (chuckles)
Anglea: Yeah. Food. Thanks. (looks at meal) I feel like I'm getting fat just looking at this.
Ratchet: Ooh, this smells great. (takes a bite, chews and swallows) And it's so tender and delicious! How's yours?
Angela: (sips a spoonful) Mmm. It's like a party in my mouth and everyone's invited!
(half an hour later, all the food and drink is gone)
Ratchet: God my arms are sore. That guy was right about not being able to put it down. But it was worth it.
Angela: I know. That was the most decadent thing I've ever eaten.
Ratchet: Hmm.
Matt: (taking the empty dishes) And would anyone like dessert or after-dinner drinks?
Angela: No dessert, thank you. But I would like a drink. Ratchet?
Ratchet: Same here.
(ten minutes later, both a bit tipsy at the bar)
Angela: I love you.
Ratchet: And I love you too.
They kissed. Full on, lip to lip, which turned quickly into tongues. They were so passionately Frenching each other, when Angela pulled away, screaming and bleeding out the mouth. Her tongue had been cut in half.
Ratchet: AAAHHH!!! What the hell? Call 911!
Jackson: Got it! Try and stop the bleeding!
Ratchet: Got ith! Whath?
He suddenly realized that the missing half of Angela's tongue was caught in his tongue. He stuffed a napkin over the bleeding point, leaving enough room for her to breathe. The ambulance came soon and took Angela and her tongue. She survived, although her annunciation was not as good. Note: Annunciation means ability to pronounce. Ratchet just slapped his head with the hand that wasn't asleep and winced because it had hurt his hand, and decided to fly home to wash the blood off of his face and out of his mouth, after a quick chat with the bartender.
Ratchet: What the fuck just happened...
Jackson: Kid, I've seen every kind of situation a drunk or two can get into, but this... this was new to me.
Ratchet: Hmm.
Later at home, Ratchet and Clank had a chat.
Clank: And then as I was... er... eating popcorn and watching... the Science channel, I felt a pressure in my lower torso, and I instinctively ran to the bathroom. And the weird thing is, I urinated!
Ratchet: What!?! You pissed!?! But you don't have a bladder, or a urethra, or kidneys, or any of that! That's just fucking impossible.
Clank: I know. Has anything odd happened to you?
Ratchet: Well, now that you mention it... (begins to speak a little more sadly) Angela and I, we were kinda drunk. (blushes a deep red)She said she loved me, and I said that I love her back. We were (blushes even more) uh, sort of, uh...
Clank: What?
Ratchet: Uh, we were, uh... kissing. (two red circles appear on Clank's face) Tongues and all. And somehow, while we were, er, kissing, her tongue got cut in half.
Clank: Did you bite down or something?
Ratchet: No! That's just weird.
Clank: Allow me to examine the internal of your mouth.
Ratchet opened his mouth, and Clank got out a small light and a magnifying lens. He looked around in Ratchet's mouth, but he didn't have to look long. He reached in and grabbed Ratchet's tongue.
Clank: I see now. It seems that you have... a robotic tongue!
Sorry to leave you all at a cliffie, but you'll see what happens. I have the plot figured out. And yes, it gets weirder. And the drug references get more frequent and vague. Angela's response to her bisque was something that I got from somewhere, though I can't remember where. The mahi-mahi burger in my story is available for purchase at the 19th street café in Glenwood Springs, Colorado. The lobster bisque is available at Legal Seafood in Massachusetts. The one we went to was on the peninsula. I think it was somewhere near the tip, but don't quote me on that. I think that there's another Legal Seafood in Boston, but again, I'm not sure. Ah well. Also, the restaurant, I think, is completely original. And the "clams casino" dish, I don't know where you can get that.