"I found 136,000 results for 'Is it safe for my dog to eat raisins?'" Knowsmore reported. "Glad to see we've learned from the whole avocado incident, dearie."
The block-headed Internet avatar tapped the website icon on the preview tab, and in an instant, a hyperlink transport had whisked her away. Knowsmore leaned on the counter of his website and sighed. "A simple 'thank you' would've been appreciated, you know," he huffed. "Just saving the life of your pet over here, that's all."
A loud disturbance across the hub caught the algorithm's ear. A massive crowd had just landed at the nearby homepage pad - but they weren't regular Internet avatars. Most of them were driving the oddest assortment of vehicles Knowsmore had ever seen. The whole weird crowd, fourteen kids plus a military woman and a carpenter on a hoverboard accompanied by what appeared to be a living olive, drove right up to his website. And at the front, looking harried and unkempt, was a large and all too familiar face.
"Knowsmore!" Ralph huffed, struggling to catch his breath as he dismounted the bizarre candy-coated kart he'd been sitting on. "Man, am I glad to see you!"
"Ah yes, you've returned," an unimpressed Knowsmore muttered. "The odd-smelling hobo who nearly obliterated our entire community."
"Ralph said you could help us -" Taffyta started, then blinked and shook her head. "Wait, what?"
"Long story, kid," Ralph hissed. He gripped Knowsmore's search hub desperately. "We -"
"Weight Watchers?" Knowsmore autofilled. "Web design? Weird Al Yankovic?"
Ralph's brow furrowed. "Look -"
"Look Back in Anger? Looking for Alaska? 'Look What You Made Me Do', by Taylor Swift?"
"Vanellope's in trouble and we need to get to Slaughter Race right now!" Ralph bellowed, pounding the search bar.
Knowsmore vibrated wildly as search results rattled through him. Finally, he regained his composure.
"I found 273,000 results for 'Vanellope Slaughter Race'," he said calmly. "It would appear your friend is causing quite a ruckus over there, my unruly good man."
From the preview tab, Ralph could see the news headlining the notification about the hunt for Vanellope. "Sweet Mother Hubbard, it's on the front page! Every player's gonna see it!" Jabbing the icon with one fat finger, he held Vanellope's kart high over his head as the hyperlink transport constructed around him, squashing him uncomfortably. "Everyone follow me!" he said, muffled, as the Sugar Rush racers revved their engines.
With a hasty look back at Knowsmore, Ralph blurted out a quick "Thanks, Egghead!" before being shuttled away at top speed. Felix, Calhoun, and Sour Bill shot off behind as the racers tore down the nearest ramp.
"There," Knowsmore huffed contentedly, straightening his mortarboard, "that wasn't so difficult, was it?"
The moon sunk low in the starless Slaughter Race night sky. A ribbon of hazy light to the east announced that morning was fast approaching.
The streets crawled with player avatars, chatting noisily, melee weapons brandished, all keeping an eye out for Vanellope. Vehicles of all kinds cruised the streets, their headlights beaming - convertibles, utility vehicles, even the occasional dump truck. Helicopters and light airplanes roared by overhead.
"Jiminy jaminy," Felix gulped. "Who would've guessed this many people use the Internet?"
"Nothin' I'm not used to, Babycakes," Calhoun muttered, peering through her binoculars and cradling Felix to her side with her free arm. "Each one of these potty-mouthed pixelheads is just another Cy-Bug, far as I'm concerned. We'll make it through no problem."
Ralph, Felix, Calhoun, and Sour Bill were all concealed behind a rooftop water tower atop a grimy crumbling brownstone. From their vantage point, they could keep a close eye on the famous Slaughter Race aqueduct, where the Sugar Rush racers lay in wait for Calhoun's signal, engines idling softly.
Ralph pulled out his BuzzzTube communicator and tapped Vanellope's icon. She picked up almost instantly.
"Ralph!" she whispered, a relieved smile crossing her frightened face. "Where are you?"
"We're in Slaughter Race, little buddy!" Ralph assured her. "We're savin' your bacon! Where are you?"
Vanellope's hologram crackled slightly as she glitched in fear. "I'm in Cirque du Liqueur! Y'know, that little convenience store near the overpass, the one with the big stupid clown out front? I locked the door best I could, but I don't know how long the chair is gonna hold!"
Ralph scanned the streets thick with hovering user nameplates.
"It's there!" Calhoun hissed, binoculars pointing south.
Finally Ralph spotted it, on a corner a few blocks from where they were - the head of a tall steel clown statue, worn and rusted, lined with aging bulbs that lit it up a depressing orange. Over a dozen player characters were prowling around it.
"I see you!" Ralph whispered. "Stay put, okay, we'll be there soon as we can! We got you, okay?"
Vanellope sniffled. "Be careful, Ralph!" And her hologram vanished with a flicker.
Felix panted heavily. "Eeoh boy, look at all these players and their weapons! Machine guns, rocket launchers, wiffle bats?! And me with just my dinky little hammer?!" He brandished the golden tool, which suddenly felt very wimpy in his hand. "How on earth are we going to drive all of them off?"
Ralph thought hard. It was true - the four of them against thousands of Slaughter Race players? Those were horrible odds. If only they had reinforcements…
And then it came to him.
"I got an idea," he said, punching up another icon on his communicator.
The door to the office swung open, and Maybe strode in, clutching a buzzing communication device. "Miss, you have an urgent call waiting."
Yesss looked up from her hologram screen, which was displaying a vertical smartphone video of two middle school kids trying to chug a shaker of cinnamon. "Kinda sorta busy here, Maybe, if you don't mind. Gotta see if this Try Not to Laugh Challenge is worth my time…"
"It's from your friend, the heavy-set gentleman with the undulating jowls," Maybe specified.
Heart leaping, Yesss jumped out from behind her desk, fiber-optic fur coat trailing like a cape. "Well, why didn't you say so?" She snatched the communicator out of her assistant's hand and flipped it open. "Ralph, my man! My main man! What's the haps these days, Bigfoot?"
"Yesss!" Ralph whispered. "We've got a situation here! Vanellope's in danger!"
Yesss' perky demeanor vanished just as quickly as it had arrived. "Vanellope? My favorite little pop-up?! What's goin' on?!"
"Y'know your buddy Shank over in Slaughter Race?" Ralph went on. "Yeah, well, turns out she's gone just a teeny tiny little bit insane, and she's got every player in the game out huntin' for Vanellope's head on a platter as we speak!"
Yesss' jaw practically hit the floor. "Are you for real right now?" she blustered. "My girl Shank wouldn't pull that kinda junk, would she?"
"It would appear she would, Miss," Maybe said heavily, pulling up several BuzzzTube videos at once in midair. Multiple Slaughter Race players were livestreaming their efforts to track down Vanellope. To Yesss' horror, the hearts were rolling in on each video.
Yesss squeezed the communicator so hard, it almost cracked. "UGH!" she spat. "You really CAN'T trust anyone you meet on the Internet, can you?!" She whirled back around to Ralph's hologram. "All right, Fumble-Fingers, you tell me what you need me to do to help you and your little buddy, and I got your humongous back! That's a promise!"
Ralph furrowed his brow in determination.
"Yesss," he said, "I need the biggest pop-up army you've got."
"We haven't searched Cirque du Liqueur yet!"
"Yeah, good idea! C'mon!"
A pair of player avatars sprinted across the dark street, dodging passing cars as they made their way to the big metal clown. They had no idea how good their guess was, how close they were to the frightened little girl they were hunting down, huddled under a counter lined with cigarette packs and lottery tickets, struggling to keep herself from glitching out of control…
The players drew their tasers. "So, which one of us gets the $500,000?" the male avatar asked, jumping in place awkwardly.
"Well, obviously me," said the female avatar, turning jerkily to face her friend. "I mean, what do you need to buy? You've already got a solid-gold Lazer jet. Stupid thing doesn't even fly…"
KPSHOOO.
The pavement at their feet cracked apart as a blast of hot plasma narrowly missed the two players. "WHOA!" the male avatar yelped. "What the -"
They whirled around. There, hovering two stories above the street on a sleek black antigravity cruiser, silhouetted against the distant early morning glow, was another player avatar - at least, they figured it had to be. She was decked out in heavy black armor, her short blond bangs hung over her fury-lined eyes, and she had a massive plasma cannon aimed directly at the two players. Behind her, wearing an orange-visored helmet, was a tiny green ball with a face.
"KEEP YOUR GRUBBY LITTLE PAWS OFF THAT STORE, CHICKADEES!" she bellowed. "UNLESS YOU'RE FIXING TO SHOW YOUR SPLEENS A LITTLE SUNLIGHT FOR A CHANGE!"
"Dude!" the male avatar yelped. "That's Sergeant Calhoun! When did they add Hero's Duty skins to this game?"
"Who cares?" the female player responded. "Kick her butt! You've got a tommy gun, don'tcha?"
Nodding, the male avatar whipped his range weapon out of his inventory and pointed it at Calhoun. "Suck lead, siste-"
KPSHOOO.
The male avatar exploded in mid-sentence. His tommy gun clattered to the ground next to the chalk outline that remained of him.
"Jeez!" the female avatar shouted. "One-hit kills? This chick is OP!"
Without a word, Calhoun trained her rifle on the female avatar and vaporized her too. More players began to converge on the convenience store, wondering who was sniping all these avatars, only to get shot back to the title screen for their trouble.
Calhoun didn't let up. "Get rekt, scrublords!" she hollered.
Sour Bill squinted through Calhoun's visor in confusion. "What?"
"I don't know," Calhoun whispered, "it's something I heard the kids at Litwak's say." She turned back to the crowd below. "360 no scope! Too pro!"
Every player who got close to the convenience store ended up exploding for their trouble. The fracas was just distracting enough that nobody noticed Ralph and Felix sneaking towards the back of the building, pushing Vanellope's kart.
Vanellope glitched harder than ever. Her very code felt like it was on fire. She wanted to run, to get out of there, away from the explosions and shrieking outside...but where else could she go? Nowhere, until Ralph arrived. Assuming he could make it through that sea of killer avatars out there…
He's fine, she tried to convince herself. He's fine. I'll be back home before I know it…
He'll never make it, another voice taunted in her mind. Just go back to Shank, it's what you're supposed to do, you know it is…
"Shut up!" Vanellope hissed, balling her tiny fists against her head. "Shut up, shut up, SHUT –"
WHAM.
Vanellope gasped, peeking up from behind the counter. Something had slammed into the double back door, rattling the chair she'd shoved under the handles. The players had found her. She was dead for sure.
Another WHAM. Then a third - and the doors exploded off their hinges.
"RALPH!"
Vanellope had never been more relieved to see him in her life. He stumbled in, pushing her familiar old candy kart with both giant hands. Felix bounded alongside, his golden hammer brandished.
"Vanellope!" Ralph beamed. "You're all right! Felix, fix that door, quick!"
"Easier done than said, brother!"
A tap from Felix's hammer, and the doors rematerialized in their frame, locked and secured.
With a burst of emotional energy that seemed to propel from deep inside her code, Vanellope launched from under the counter like a cannonball and wrapped herself around Ralph's giant neck in the biggest hug her little body could manage. "Holy hotcakes, kid," Ralph wheezed, "am I ever glad to see you…"
Then he noticed the dampness on his shirt. To his shock, Vanellope was bawling her eyes out.
"Ralph…" she choked. "Ralph, I'm so sorry…"
Tenderly, Ralph picked up Vanellope with one hand and tried to stem her tears with the other. "Sorry? S-Sorry about what?"
Vanellope gulped, her eyes blotchy and red. "I made a mistake!" she sobbed. "I abandoned my game! And-and Shank lied to me, and now all the racers back home hate me, and… I-I-I went Turbo, Ralph! I s-s-screwed everything up for everyone!" She collapsed against Ralph's chest again, burying her face in his shirt. "Ralph...I just wanna go home…"
Suddenly, Ralph was acutely aware of the stinging wetness in his own eyes.
"Hey, hey, sshhh… c'mon, Vanellope, it's okay!" he said softly, patting her head with a hand the size of a couch cushion. "We're gonna get you home, no problem, all right? There's nothing to worry about - we got Felix with us, and Calhoun, and you know who else?"
Vanellope blinked up at him through her tears.
"All your Sugar Rush friends are here," Ralph assured her. "Taffyta, Rancis, Candlehead, Sour Bill - all of them! They all wanted to come along and help rescue you. They don't hate you - they were worried about you! We all were…"
Vanellope sniffled, her eyes widening. "R-Really?" she whimpered.
"Hey, would I lie?" Ralph said with a grin. "But we're all here now, and we're gonna get you back in your game safe and sound, and if anyone tries to get in your way, we're gonna kick their stupid fat butts together. And you know why?"
Vanellope wiped her nose. "Why?"
Ralph grinned, pushing more tears from his eyes. "Because you're a winner."
A smile crept across Vanellope's face. "...I'm a winner."
"And you're adorable."
"I'm adorable!"
"And what does everyone love?"
"Everyone loves an adorable winner!" Vanellope shouted, leaping around the room. She laughed, tears glistening as she bounced. More than she had in weeks, she finally felt like herself again.
"Hey, I heard her!" a voice called from outside. "I think she's in here!"
Ralph, Vanellope, and Felix all froze. The sound of trampling footsteps grew closer.
"Okay, pep talk's over!" Ralph said hastily. "Let's blow this popsicle stand!"
Vanellope leapt into her kart. Ralph hopped onto the vanilla wafer spoiler on the back, tucking his arms in. Brow furrowed in determination, Vanellope jabbed the ignition button.
The kart sputtered, but didn't start.
"Oh, c'mon!" Vanellope groaned. "Nobody drove this thing in the month I was gone?"
An explosion of tinkling glass caught their ears. Player avatars were at the window, crowbars and wrenches in hand, trying to break in.
"Back, you unwashed rabble!" Felix declared chivalrously, leaping onto the shelves. "Why don't you go play something the whole family can enjoy?"
With the skills that only 36 years of continuous platforming gameplay can provide, Felix hopped from landing to landing, hammering every broken window back into place. Every time a player smashed another one, he fixed it before they could get in.
Vanellope pounded on the ignition button. The engine whined, struggling to turn over.
"Give it some gas!" Ralph offered. "Pump the brakes! Put it in neutral! I don't really know what I'm talking about!"
"GUYS!" Felix shouted. "They're bringing in the heavy artillery!"
Ralph looked up. The players at the window scattered as a midnight black convertible drove headlong towards the convenience store, modified golden engine sticking through the hood, a cloud of dust trailing behind. The avatar in the front seat was heavily customized, square jawed with a knot-top hairstyle and countless tattoos.
With one heavy arm, Ralph grabbed Felix and tucked him close to his side. "Hold on to your hammer, buddy!" he warned.
Gritting her teeth, Vanellope hauled back and punched the button as hard as she could.
VROOOOMMMM.
Gummi tires squealing, Ralph and Felix hanging on for dear life, Vanellope ramped off a discarded case of beer in the middle of the floor and caught air, shooting through the glass front door in a hail of shards and metal fragments, out into the freshly minted morning sunlight. She clattered onto the parking lot, drifting around in a 180-degree turn just as the player's car smashed through the fragile wall of the store. Felix goggled at the wreckage, clutching his cap in alarm.
"SIR!" he called huffily to the player behind the wheel. "I do believe that's a no-parking zone!"
Up above, Calhoun whooped in relief at the sight of the escape below her. "You tell 'em, Sugarcakes!" she shouted over the deafening patter of her gunfire. "Vanellope, Ralph, what an exit!"
The burly player backed his car out of the wreckage of the store, lining up for another shot at Vanellope's kart. "Come here, hotshot!" he snarled through his fuzzy in-game microphone; his voice was clearly that of a small kid. "I got a date with five hundred grand!"
"Pssh, yeah, like YOU could get a date, loser!" Vanellope jeered. As the player's car tore at her, Vanellope glitched, Ralph, Felix, and all, to the other side of the parking lot.
"Whoa-ho," Ralph coughed, clutching his head. "That's just weird…"
The player's tires screamed as he spun donuts over the store debris, flattening other avatars in an attempt to run down Vanellope. But every time he got close, she glitched away.
"Don't you have homework or something, kiddo?" Vanellope laughed, spinning to a stop. Ralph and Felix tumbled off, still slightly disoriented by the constant glitching.
"Homework bites!" the player shrieked, whipping out an intimidating range weapon. It bore a strong resemblance to Calhoun's plasma cannon, and it crackled with blue electricity; it looked extremely advanced.
Ralph lunged in front of the player's car, protecting Vanellope. "You leave her alone, pint-size!" he bellowed, his hands balled into boulder-sized fists. "You can't have her!"
Players around the parking lot twitched, looking confused. "They put Fix-It Felix Jr. skins in here too?"
"I'm level 50, butthead, I can have anything in this game I want!" the player taunted, charging his weapon. "What are you gonna do about it, Hobo Joe?"
CRUNCH.
The player tumbled into the backseat as Ralph, his eyes livid, his face twisted in fury, grabbed the front of his car with both massive hands, crumpling the hood like paper. He began to spin on the spot like a champion hammerthrower, the player cursing in protest as he whirled.
"I'M...GONNA...WRECK IT!"
He let go, and the car went flying halfway across the city. The player's screams dwindled into nothing as he tumbled through the air alongside his precious vehicle. In the distance, they both exploded against an overpass.
Vanellope leapt in her seat and cheered. "Sweet mother of monkey milk, Ralph! That was AWESOME!"
Ralph rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Thanks, kid...I kinda surprised myself a bit on that one…"
Sour Bill rolled to safety as Calhoun brought her cruiser down for a landing. She leapt off and smothered Felix with kisses. "That was some real hot footwork in there, Sugarcakes!" she gushed. "You never cease to amaze me!"
"Aw, shucks, Honeybunch," Felix blushed, "just doin' what comes natural…"
The player avatars observed the bizarre scene before them. Sugar Rush, Fix-It Felix Jr., Hero's Duty...what kind of crossover event was this?
"So, are the Fix-It Felix and Hero's Duty guys part of the Vanellope mission?" one confused player asked, jerkily swinging his wrench at the air.
"I dunno, I guess," said another, jumping in place. "I think we have to kill 'em all before we can catch her or something."
The first player switched weapons, stowing his wrench and producing a sawed-off shotgun. "Well, if you say so!" he laughed remorselessly. "I always thought that Felix guy was kind of a tool!"
Ralph blanched, throwing himself in front of Vanellope. Sour Bill hid behind Calhoun and Felix as the crowd advanced. Cars were tearing up the street towards them. Helicopters descended from the sky.
And then…
"New on BuzzzTube! The funniest Try Not to Laugh Challenge yet! How long can you last?"
"GameGeekGary55 plays Season 7 of Fortnite! Watch what happens next!"
"The latest episode of Dopey Dubs is here! You've never heard 'Orange is the New Black' like this!"
Blue-skinned pop-ups were springing up all over the Slaughter Race map, stopping players in their tracks. They danced around, brandishing their ads obnoxiously. Cars skidded off the road as players struggled to see where they were going.
"What the- since when do I get pop-ups inside the stupid game?!" one player griped. He moved to close the ad - and the grinning pop-up mischievously jerked it to the right at the last second, so the player poked the ad itself instead. Immediately, a transport cube closed around the confounded avatar, whisking him away out of the game.
Ralph and Vanellope looked around in amazement as more players vanished, their accidental clicks transporting them directly to BuzzzTube. Others flailed wildly, trying to escape, but more and more pop-ups materialized around them, smothering them, blocking their every move. The air was thick with sales pitches and the cacophony of crashing vehicles. Helicopters plummeted from the air, erupting into flames on rooftops.
"Good one, Yesss!" Ralph cheered, pumping his massive fist. "I knew she wouldn't let us down!"
"We'll have to thank her later!" Vanellope giggled. "C'mon, guys, let's skate!"
Ralph leapt back onto the kart as Vanellope peeled out of the ruined parking lot. Calhoun, Felix, and Sour Bill soared behind on the cruiser.
But as they cut through the tangled crowd of players and pop-ups and rounded a corner, arriving on the street that ran parallel to the aqueduct, they hit the brakes.
Shank and her entire crew were waiting for them at the end of the street, engines roaring hungrily. At the front of the pack was Shank herself, eyes steely, shades perched atop her wild hair, her crimson vehicle glinting in the morning sun.
Sour Bill gulped. "Is this what you'd call the boss fight?" he groaned.