Crappy Policy


Put this picture into your head.

You are seventeen and you graduate in two weeks. When you were fifteen and your baby/pet sitting service website was setting new records, a certain government agency came up to you, offering the chance of a lifetime. Ever since, you and your best friend have been traveling the world, frequently saving the day-and future for an agency called Global Justice. You would leave during some of the most important moments of your life just to jettison halfway across the globe in order for you to fight an unimportant villain.

Now, you've always had this one foe that you just couldn't take down. He always seemed to get away. The night of your senior Prom, you, at last, are finally able to catch him, and you spend the night with your best friend (the one that helps you on your various missions over the past three years) at the Prom to celebrate. Somewhere, in the middle of all the cheap crate-paper and lights, you end up kissing. You spend the entire night daydreaming of that best friend, and that first awkward goodnight kiss, or kisses that you gave her, and walking away from her, promising to spend all of tomorrow with her.

You do just that, and it goes wonderfully with her wrapped up in your arms.

Until, of course, you're being told to tell her the worst news she'll ever hear.

"What do you mean, 'we're fired?"

"KP . . ." Ron soothed.

Kim's anger was radiating off her in waves that Rufus could've ridden on a naked-mole-rat-sized surf board, "fired? Who called the order? Why are we being fired?"

"KP, look, hold on. Calm down. Fired isn't the word that their wanting us to use."

"Who are they? Global Justice? Why would they want to fire us! We just took down our biggest baddie! They should be getting us red sports cars and real paying jobs! Not firing us!" In the middle of her rant, she had stood up and started pacing around the tree house.

"Kim, apparently, they are forcing us into retirement."

"Retirement?"

"Yeah . . . apparently three years as a Junior Global Justice agent is almost two days too many. They only let us go these last few days to get Drakken."

Kim turned sharply, "who called the order?"

"Kim . . . its just company policy. We can't do anything about it."

"Oh, sure we can!" She started down the ladder to the ground, reaching for the Kimunicator. "WADE!"

Wade appeared on the screen with a grim look on his face, "Kim, I can't do anything for you anymore. If Global Justice found out that two decommissioned Global Justice agents were working together, we'd both be facing about three hundred agents, as well as three to five in prison. I'm sorry," he sighed, his head bowing, but when he looked up again the anger in his eyes could rival Kim's, "I'm as pissed as you. Believe me. I am."

He signed out.

Kim, halfway outside and halfway inside the tree house stared at the blank screen, determination slowly waning from her face.

Ron noticed this, "So, Global Justice headquarters is only, what? Six hundred miles away? That's like, twenty minutes on my faster-than-light moped! Let's go!" He grabbed his helments and moved to the hole in the floor. "What are you waiting for?"

Kim smiled, "You mean," her smile grew as he lowered himself to her eyes.

"Um, I don't think going down at the same time is a good idea," he put a smirk on his face, "much as I'd like to be close to you . . . I don't think we'd survive."

Kim laughed, and moved her foot down to the next rope.

"Finally!" she heard him shout, and she smirked.

Then she back flipped off the rope ladder, and landed perfectly. Just for affect, she added, "What's takin' you so long?"

"Sorry, Miss Cheerleader, some of us don't have enough curves to make the squad! We have to settle for mascot!"

"But I thought you liked being Mad Dog?"

Ron, landed his last foot on the grass, and turned to her, putting one of the helments on her head, "Oh, I do."

Thirty minutes later, Team Possible was walking into the front lobby of Global Justice Head quarters. Kim, being her assertive self, walked right up to the front desk and asked, "Who do I see about my termination of contract?"

Thirty more minutes spent on the most uncomfortable couch Kim had ever set on later, a woman walked up to her, "Miss Possible?"

"Yes."

"It is good to meet you. I'm Director Goose. I'm in charge of the Junior Division, and I hear that you have some questions about your termination."

Ron's eyes narrowed.

"Yes, let's start with an easy one." Kim started calmly, and then she lost all her patience, "Why?" she shouted.

Director Goose looked around the crowded Lobby and the faces that stopped to watch The Kim Possible loose her nerve. "Let's head to my office." Kim nodded, and Ron started to follow.

"I'm sorry, I'm only allowed to talk about this to Team Possible . . ." Director Goose trailed, staring Ron down.

"I AM a part of Team Possible," Ron said, his voice even and low.

Director Goose looked from Ron to Kim, "I'm sorry, our records say that Team Possible is only Miss Possible herself, and a young man, Wade Load. There is no one else."

"Well," Kim started, "He's on the team. He is the most important member to me. That's what's wrong with this place; you can't keep your records straight."

"Miss Possible, Global Justice prides itself in the manner of how we handle our Intel. On villains and agents alike. Now, please. My office is this way." Her hand in front of her like she was directing traffic.

Kim grabbed Ron's hand and squeezed. He glanced her way and smiled.

"Thanks."

"No. Thank you."

"For what?"

"Bringing me here."

"No big," he said.

She smiled, "Hey! That's my line!"

"Ready to yell at our ex-bosses, dear?"

Kim took in a deep breath, the anger returning to her eyes, "Yeah."

"Badical."

They walked into Director Goose's office, and got a strong whiff of mahogany. The office was dark; dark wood, dark wallpaper, dark upholstery, even dark lighting. It gave both Ron and Kim the creeps.

"Please," smiled Director Goose, "sit down. Let's discuss your problems with your contract."

"It's more like lack of contract. Why did you fire us?"

"We did not fire you. Your contract states, after three years under the title of Junior Global Justice agent, you were to go into Retirement, taking all important Intel that you learned here, to your grave. Or in your case, graves. It is company policy that no Junior agent can work more than three years, never have we had to do this to a Team, they all usually phase out because of the pressures of High School and College."

"College!" Ron shouted, "When we signed up, Global Justice said that I could get some kind of scholarship, they'd pay for my schooling if I choose from a list. I got accepted to one of those schools . . . is Global Justice still gonna pay?"

"Global Justice does have a policy of the equivalent. If you are going to one of those Colleges during your employment with us, then yes, Global Justice would be more than happy to pay for your education."

"So," Kim began, "We just need to renew our contracts?"

"I'm sorry, Miss Possible. One may only have one Junior contract at Global Justice. We cannot renew it, or change our policy. Even for a team as great as yours, Miss Possible."

"So," Kim stood up. "You're just going to fire us. From the sounds of it, you've never had a team go past the three year 'limit', and when you finally do, have a Team that not only is great, but is one the best ones . . . EVER, your just going to let us go?"

"We have no other choice, Miss Possible. You can't do super hero work anymore. We change one policy; we'll have to change a thousand. This system has worked for a few hundred years, let's keep it that way. You know the way out. Good day, Miss Possible, it was glorious to finally meet you."

Kim was fuming. She knocked over the chair on her way out.

She stopped at the door, "Oh, Director Goose?" she said sweetly.

Director Goose looked up and smiled, "Yes?"

Kim's sweet exterior dissolved quickly as she said, "Don't tell me what I can't do." She turned and left.

Ron, still in his seat, sighed.

"Can I help you, Mr. . . . ah . . ."

"Stoppable. Ron Stoppable. I am really sick and tired of people not knowing my name. Director Goose, no offence, wait . . . take all the offence . . . your system is wack. Whether you've noticed or not, the world has changed in the last few hundred years. You should try to keep up." He stood to leave, "Oh, and . . . you know? She's right."

"Who's right about what?"

"KIM! Gah," he took a deep breath. "She can do anything. She might not be able to do super work for Global Justice, then she'll do it for someone else."

Kim was standing at the door smiling.

They left the dark office.

Director Goose sat back in her dark chair, "everything's going according to plan." She smiled and went back to work.


Alot of you were confused about the last chapter, and yes, it's a semi-allusion to Disney's crappy policy, but, this is actually a story to continue where Disney left off.

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