Bought to you by gem squash. So, I, uh, thought I'd try my had at PPG fic. Naturally, my brain was cool with this, provided that said fic did not, in fact, contain any actual PPGS. Go figure. SO. The end result; no PPGs, no RRBs, no OCs, no 'major' villains and not much in the way of vitamins and fibre either. Starting off with...Arturo!

Disclaimer: All characters contained within the following ficlet belong to Cartoon Network/ Craig McCracken. Except Snake's hat. That is mine.

gangrene(n): decay of body tissue, resulting from either obstructed circulation or infection.

The Battlefield

Arturo was busy tending to Maria.

Maria's welfare was something that required about seven minutes of his time, every morning and night. A sacrifice, sure, but what else did one do for love?

Currently, he was finishing off his duties with a small corner of cloth and spittle. He'd already checked her smooth edges for scratches and removed loose strands of her caught between her teeth. Now he polished her handle, removing all dust and smudges left by his fingertips. Behind him, the highway lit up.

There was a soft, choked cry, borne from adrenaline rather than pain. The sound of the approaching motor became louder with frightening speed before the car roared past. Pausing in lavishing attention, Arturo perked up his ears in a manner similar to a terminal cancer patient waiting to hear how much longer they had to live. The moment the car had disappeared, hooting as it did, cheers erupted from the side of the road.

Arturo smiled. It seemed that Lady Luck was with them tonight.

He turned and took in the scenery. As it was almost midnight and darker than a prostitute's lipstick, there wasn't much to see. By the fading taillights of the car, he could just make out Ace and Grubber's gleaming eyes, and the edge of Snake's teeth. His hearing was abnormally good, and he could make out the whispered congratulations being awarded to Grubber. Ace was giving a small, sardonic round of applause.

Big Billy sat sulking on a disused tire a little way away. This was one game he was always firmly excluded from.

Which was common sense, as far as Arturo could see. If his lumbering comrade tried to participate in this method of entertainment, someone would die. Probably whoever crashed into him.

Giving Maria a final, professional once-over, Arturo snapped her back into her smooth handle, and slid her back into his inner pocket. He made his way to the battlefield.

Grubber, bizarrely, was the best at this one. Despite his affected hunch and his odd, staggered way of walking, Arturo had seen him in action often enough to know that Grubber was greased lightning when he chose to be. Ace was second best, a fact that, Arturo suspected, irritated their leader enormously. Snake was third. He was last.

Which didn't mean that he was slow. The others had made allowances for his shorter legs, and had permitted an extra three seconds to start running, as, as Arturo maintained, if he was just a little taller, he'd leave them all in the dust. Considered as ounce-for-ounce, Arturo was the fastest of them all.

And it was his turn.

Ace smirked from the other side at him as he approached the road. "Yer sure yer okay with this?" he called across.

Arturo nodded, ignoring the jibe. It was only teasing. Ace knew very well how 'okay' he was with this.

Another car was coming. Wearing an expression of calm concentration, the Spanish boy crouched down, feeling, for an instant, absurdly like a hare or a small cat. A cat, perhaps, with an exaggerated underbite and really, really good hair.

Headlights appeared, needle sharp but growing steadily brighter. Steadily, but also quickly. Arturo grinned. It appeared that nothing was going under seventy tonight. Including his heartbeat, of course. He could see his own skin, glowing green as the convertible approached, bathing the pavement gold and shooting weird edges of light off of the assorted litter on either side of the road.

The car was either white or yellow, he couldn't decide which because Ace yelled, "NOW!" and he was bolting for his life, short legs moving as quickly as they ever had. Blood rushed past his ears, completely unnoticed by the rest of him, which waseerily calm and focused solely on the other side. His heartbeat screamedin his chest. Little things came to his attention; the moonless sky and the way the road feltunder his soles; dry and hard. Later, he would notice, as would Ace and the others, that their clothes weresoaked through with sweat. It was not, right then, a matter of much importance.A horn blared, the rest of them hollered encouragement and he found himself in a world that was completely, incredibly golden, a world that was, sadly, getting to be far too bright and far too loud for his tastes.

He put on a final burst of speed and felt his feetmeet dust instead of tarmac. Behind him, a horn blared for all it was worth as the gleaming car shot by, its owner screaming obscenities.

Cheers, applause and the gang was around him, laughing like ravens.

"NICE one, Arturo!"

"Almosssst got you that time-sss!"

"Phbbbbt!"

"BILLY WANNA PLAY!"

He bowed to his audience, who applauded.

"Okay, who wants the next one? No, not you, Billy."

"Me! Me! Pleasssse, Accce, me!"

"Phhbbt pbbbt!"

"D'AH, BILLY WANNNA-…"

Arturo reached into his pocket, gave Maria a quick kiss when they weren't looking and ran her through his hair. He loved this game.