Basketball Blunders!

Disclaimer: "My neck is sore from agreeing so much."

Chapter 8: Ringer's Offer

The hotel's dining area

"Ooh ooh ooh ooh AHH AHH AHH!" Blast Radius screamed. The semi-sane Macaque partner of the Malibu Joes' demolitions expert, the quasi-sane Firestorm, was causing a panic in the dining area of the hotel. He was leaping around, holding a bunch of grapes.

"Come here, you little-!" The Whip screamed angrily as he leapt at the monkey. "AGH!" BR started throwing grapes at him. "Hey! That hit my eye!" The Whip covered his face. "Oh God! You had better pray that my eye is alright, you little flea circus! Augh!"

"This has got to be the craziest thing I have ever seen in my life." One guest whispered to another. The second guest narrowed his eyes.

"Boy, you haven't been in this town long, have you? I once saw Dennis Rodman on a drunken bender. Now that was crazy." The second guest countered. BR ran up to the Whip and grabbed the white namesake that was looped around his belt. "Hey! That's mine!" BR threw a banana, hitting the back of his head. "Hey!" BR looked at the whip and gave it a crack, causing the rest of the guests in the hotel, who had come down to eat, but ended up becoming an audience to the insanity, winced.

"Oh, that's not right…"

"That had to hurt, man."

"Ugh…"

"Ay-yi-yi!"

"Hi-o, that's just not cool!"

"YEOW!" The Whip screamed with a jump as Blast Radius cracked the whip, hitting him in the rear end. He spun around, glaring at the snickering monkey. "Why you little-!" BR cracked the whip again, hitting the Whip right in the nose. "OW!" He covered his nose. "That really hurt!" BR only jumped up and down and did the monkey equivalent of a happy laugh, clapping his little hands.

"Man, I feel sorry for the owner." One guest whispered to another.

"How do you know that monkey has an owner?" The other guest scratched her head in confusion. "It might just be a wild monkey."

"How many wild monkeys wear orange vests full of pockets and green headbands?" The first guest retorted.

"I recognize that monkey…" Another guest scratched his stubble-covered chin in thought. "Yeah…it belongs to this nutty red-head I know. I own a fireworks store, and he always comes there with that monkey on his shoulder."

"He must drive you crazy." The first guest told the stubble-faced guest sympathetically.

"Are you kidding me?" The stubble-faced guest grinned. "Those guys are my best customers! They're putting my kids through college! They love stuff that blows up about as much as I do." He heard a whistle. The guests turned and saw Firestorm and Rock 'n' Roll at the door.

"Come on, BR!" Firestorm called with a wave. "We're getting out of here!"

I just hope the kids are alright… Rock 'n' Roll mentally mumbled to himself with some worry. BR grabbed a bowl of dressing and dumped it all over the Whip, dropping his whip, and bashing the Whip upside the head with the bowl. The monkey then ran across the room and jumped on Firestorm's shoulder.

"To the Firerunner!" Firestorm whooped, referring to the quasi-sane Joe's customized orange Jeep with the red-and-yellow flames, built in rocket launchers and flamethrowers, and jet engines. The two Joes made their escape. "I'll drive!"

"Heck no!" Rock 'n' Roll exclaimed. "I'd rather let the monkey drive! He's more sane!"

"Okay then! BR can drive!"

"I was kidding, you flame-brain!"

The youth center

"AUGH!" The Jamaican rhino-like mutant called Rhinox screamed as he got blasted into the stands by one of Dazzler's laser beams, helped by a tornado blast from Velocity, the African-American speedster and aerokinetic.

"Yeah!" Dazzler, the blonde Farrah-haired dance singer, whooped happily. "Whoa!" She ducked a flying basketball. "What was that?"

"Hee hee hee…" Ringer giggled, sitting on top of one of the stands. The blond mutant was twirling a basketball with one finger.

"I could do that." Terrell pointed out the action.

"So could the Thunderbolt. You taught him that." Kyle remembered.

"Hey West Coast Losers!" Ringer called. "You wanna settle this another way?"

"Yeah." Kyle crossed his arms and smirked.

"Spam…" Rhinox mumbled from the wrecked stand.

"Why don't you come down and let the Thunderbolt slap ya, and then it'll be settled?" Kyle Wildfire, the electricity-controlling mutant called Thunderbolt offered, ignoring Rhinox.

"Lovely spam, wonderful spam…" Rhinox mumbled weakly. Ali blinked at the crumpled-up stands.

"Man, I must've blasted a few brain cells out of place." The Farrah-haired blonde singer blinked. "You okay?"

"…What do you mean, yuch? I don't like spam, mon…" The Jamaican rhino-like mutant mumbled weakly in response. Terrell, Kyle, and Ringer didn't notice.

"No, you little loudmouthed Celtic-worshipping moron." Ringer chuckled.

"You got a problem with the Celtics, jabroni?" Kyle crossed his arms.

"You shouldn't be surprised, Kyle." Terrell rolled his eyes. "He's from Chicago. They're Bulls freaks over there."

"Da Bulls…" Rhinox mumbled weakly.

"Oh yeah…" Kyle nodded, remembering that. The young mutant's face then formed a smirk. "…Man, the Thunderbolt has heard those horn-heads have started to really suck since Jordan and Pippen retired." Kyle laughed at his own joke. Terrell shared a chuckle. Ringer scowled.

"It's not their fault, you Clipper-loving jerks!" Ringer snapped.

"The Clippers?" Terrell's jaw dropped. "Who likes the Clippers? Everybody played in the Clippers! I played in the Clippers! And despite my talent, the team still sucked!"

"I'm from Boston, jabroni." Kyle scowled. "The Thunderbolt's Celtics would eat the Clippers for breakfast!"

"Oh, please!" Ringer scoffed. "The Celts haven't been any good since Bird and McHale left!" Kyle snarled. (1)

"Say that again, punk!" Kyle snapped, fists sparking with electricity. "Say that again!" Kyle cursed and lunged at the energy ring-making mutant, but Terrell was able to hold him back. "Come here and say that to the Thunderbolt's face, ya punk! You wanna run your mouth about the Celts, you jabroni!"

"Easy, Kyle! Easy!" Terrell exclaimed.

"Heh." Ringer smirked. "Anyway, I was thinking…"

"I'm not tetchy…" Rhinox mumbled weakly, sitting up. Ringer's face formed a deadpan look at his teammate.

"Riiiiiiiiiight…" Ringer drawled. "Anyway…I was thinking…Let's settle this with a good-old-fashioned basketball game. Two-on-two. What do you say?"

"Heh." Terrell smirked. "You're on, little man. Evidently, you got no idea who you're messing with."

"Yeah, and the Thunderbolt's no slouch, either!" Kyle added.

"Alright!" Ringer grinned. He then shot a lecherous look at Ali. "And I'm sure you will be my personal cheerleader?" Ali's face scrunched in disgust.

"No way, loser."

Well, well, well! Looks like our heroes just got a crazy offer! What madness will happen next? Who will win the game? Will Ringer get slapped? Who will drive the Firerunner? Find out in the next chapter! Suggestions needed badly!

(1) – My 4th grade teacher was a huge Celtics fan. I still remember the posters she had of Larry Bird and Kevin McHale.