Disclaimer : I don't own Power Rangers cha cha cha
A/N i aplogise if any of the facts abotu the show are wrong, it's been a long time since 1994 you know...
"I have got such a headache," complained Rita, " how is it those power brats destroy every monster I throw at them?"
"No offence mistress," began Goldar, clearly meaning to offend with every word, "but lately the monsters have been a bit useless."
"What?" shrieked Rita threateningly.
"I meant," began Goldar apologetically, "simply that you haven't been putting much effort into them, no matter how many you send, if they die that easily you're never going to win."
Glaring at him, she didn't respond. She knew she didn't have long before her master arrived, and if she hadn't conquered the earth by then she was likely to spend another 10 000 years in a dumpster. If only she hadn't used the green power coin, it had been the loss of that, which had caught his attention. Damn her self-confidence, no, damn those brats! When had a ranger ever switched sides? They were always good or evil; trust the one she chose to be different!
"Mistress," said Goldar forcefully, "Let me and Scorpina go down and attack, with the rubbish you've been sending lately we'll get them for sure!"
"No," snapped the witch, "I'll send another monster:" no matter how much she wanted to save her own ass she didn't want that ape getting any glory. Plus he never stood any chance at victory, he ran away far too soon.
"Finster!" she yelled, as the monkey skulked off unhappily, " make me a monster!"
As his hands shaped the clay quickly the sculptor grumbled constantly under his breath. Usually he enjoyed his work, even if he didn't really appreciate the uses it was put to, whistling as he created his masterpieces: masterpieces that would come to life. Of course, most of -strike that- all of the time they were destroyed almost immediately after that, but how many sculptors had the chance to see there creations live, breathe and…kill? Sighing, he wondered how long this beauty would last, how long before he was forced to create another… he might as well start designing it now, the way Rita was getting through them. This worried him, not only did it mean he was overworked but also that his creations were becoming less and less useful. Making him, less and less valuable. He dreaded to think of what would happen to him when Rita gave up with his monsters altogether; he had nothing else to offer the empire and it didn't look kindly on those who had nothing to offer. He'd better start designing winners soon; the monster baking now was doomed, but the next one would be his greatest yet, and would wipe those rangers off the planet. Then he'd be safe, maybe even respected. Whistling as he drew up the plans, a new sense of enforced enthusiasm overcame the monster maker, unaware of the futility of everything he did.
A moment later the oven went ping, another monster ready for the slaughter.
Rita smiled hollowly as she watched the monster tear about Angel Grove Park; even she could see this one stood no chance against the power rangers. In fact she was a little surprised it could fight off the hordes of screaming children that ran away from it. Perhaps Goldar was right, perhaps now was the time to send her warriors: she was running out of options. Watching as her aptly named 'losertron' monster tripped over a bench, she began to wonder if Finster was running out of ideas. Spinning round to yell for Goldar she felt a cold shudder come over her; she was running out of time. She could not be defeated by a bunch of teenagers!
"Goldar!"
Rounding the final corner before the Principals office Zach Taylor heard a familiar sound ring around him and felt his normally light heart sink. He loved music; all music and he hated the fact that he had come to loath those 6 notes. The 6 notes that called him away from his life, that cost him so many dates with Angela, that meant he had to go into battle. He could fool the others, but he couldn't fool himself; he hated this constant fighting, it was too much too often. He joked a few D's and the odd detention was worth saving the world, but it wasn't just that. Those notes meant constant exhaustion, failing almost every class, detention upon detention and having arguments with his family. Last night was the worst; the scolding disappointed words of his mother, "You skipped school again," and the look of betrayal in her eyes, all the time 'heroic news of the latest ranger battle' playing on the TV behind her. He knew she'd be proud if he could just tell her what he was doing, instead he knew she was jumping to conclusions; drugs, drink, god knows what else. He knew the others were suffering too, which is why he kept up the façade, if he lost his cheery take on life, how soon before the others broke down completely too and where would the world be then?
Glancing to the others, they spun round heading back the way they had come into the deserted corridor.
"Yes Zordon?" asked Jason, showing none of the doubts Zach felt.
"Rangers, a monster is attacking Angel Grove Park, you're needed immediately." And with a flash of colour they all disappeared.