No matter how much Chip could endure, he could never drain the perforating mirror of a feline's unremorse possessing his scowl. Bits of flesh still etching his whiskers from a prior meal, a gaze that still tasted its next victim, something that murdered the chipmunk from which he stood. Fat Cat wasn't a murderer, a cheat, a monopolistic. No, he was something far more gruesome, something than not even a film writer could possibly convey in their next slasher picture. There hadn't been a word to describe him, Fat Cat had simply been it.
His majestic aroma still rotted of gnats infesting themselves into Chip's corpse; Fat Cat was an individual worse than death, and he didn't need to snap death's scythe in half to prove it. The rodent cracked a shiver through his fur at the mere thought. His butcher clicked a chuckle, yanking at the binding that had been suffocating his perturbed meat on the table, still stained with leftover spills of lamb and ravens alike. The young detective strangled for a breath, straining his back against the wood he had been displayed onto, his feeble chest vibrating quicker than newborn mice using their lungs for the first time.
Fat Cat ghosted above him, his very shadow highlighting his ravening countenance. Chip wouldn't have been too baffled if it began to rain saliva upon him. "Finally, a real treat. After all these years.." The cat's whispers scorched Chip's hearing like a banshee calling, a parasite squirming through the folds of the chipmunk's brain, its persistence never folly, no matter how much its victim screamed.
But Chip's patience wielded a much more worthy weapon.
"Oh, it's a treat righty–" Despite that burning light that baked Chip's face, he found a flash of a silhouette high above a crate, its chest stuffed with such pride that left no room for elegance. "-a real tough cookie! Hi-hoo!" Another shadow picketed into view, as the two flailed down, parachuted by a fish net.
The demon wailed, scorched by the touch of determination, as Dale and Monterey slammed him with the vicious net. The rat perked, feet dancing over each other, fingers fumbling to tie a consistent knot. Fat Cat thrashed against the mouse trap. "Zipper, now ol buddy!"
The suggested fly swarmed. Soaring around its prey, melding, knotting loose ends. The net bashed in vengeance. Fat Cat roared, eyes splintering hot iron.
Chip had been mesmerized by the commotion, such so, that he hadn't noticed someone fiddling with the appendages that imprisoned him. Before he could register Gadget's breezing gaze, grazing his eyes, his lungs snapped free of movement. He flailed off the table, shoving away from Hackwrench's guiding hands.
"See, Chip? Weren't that hard!" The chipmunk clawed away the hat Dale had presented him with, flinching off the grip the idiot was trying to get on his shoulder. Chip hadn't bothered looking up, out of the cowardly pride of bestowing his flushed features. He adjusted his fedora, as his words scraped against his own tongue. "Yeah? Well next time, I'll be sure to vote you for bait."
Author's Note:
Thanks for checking out this story! This has been made to the credit of NostalgicUser, who's requested a few of the ideas I've presented within the story. All criticism is appreciated!
I do not own Chip n' Dale: Rescue Rangers, and neither do I make money off of this story. Characters belong to Disney, and their rightful creators.
