Randy did regret getting his phone confiscated, as it was the only way to keep in touch with Howard aside from breaking out his laptop to answer every single IM. Though considering how the staff reacted to a phone, he didn't want to imagine what they would do to his personal computer. Security at Casper wasn't what he expected. At Norrisville, since it was an inner-city school, it had metal detectors and guards performing pat-downs. Amity Park being the model of modern suburbia, instead of the dense college town Norrisville was- there was bound to be some culture clash. Amity Park didn't seem to know jack about how to party, for example. It wasn't that Randy was particularly bothered being the sole source of entertainment for these kids. He just didn't like talking about himself. Aside from being the ninja which was arguably the most interesting thing about him, Cunningham didn't have much of a life outside of it. He didn't have much of a life, to begin with.
He'd wish they'd go find a cow to tip- or something. Especially that goth girl, she seemed to stare right through Randy like a show she's seen before.
Noticing that he was called 'loud,' he couldn't decide if it was a compliment. Randy sort of assumed that everyone talked at this volume. Perhaps there was something to be said about sitting next to the band every pep rally damaging his hearing. At least it appeared that the social hierarchy at least seemed to be separated by 'rich people who play sports' and 'literally everyone else.'
Making connections was difficult. Unfortunately, he needed them to keep him around so he could get to the bottom of this.
There was a clatter from the hamidashi after Cunningham adjusted his clothes.
"Oh c'mon, this stupid… ancient holster!" Acting fast before anyone came in, he snatched up the knife from the ground. Rolling up his pant leg up to his knee.
"WELP! YOU WILL LET ME OUT IF YOU DO NOT WISH TO BECOME MY COAT RACK!"
Randy snorted, looking down at the blade that housed the ghost between the double-bladed steel walls. Sticking his tongue out at his prisoner. He could hardly believe how easy it was to capture ghosts versus destankifying the sorcerer's monsters. Granted, there was no way he could've found this missing weapon in the ninja's armory without his handler.
Gētokīpā no hatana
As it was labeled in the care package along with the file on Invisobill.
He placed the knife back in its sheath, then tightened the leather band around his calf before camouflaging his jeans back over it.
Making brief eye contact with himself in the mirror, Randy messed with his hair somewhat and began washing his hands. He hoped that what he was doing wasn't obvious; granted, it's not like anyone in Amity Park had an attachment to Invisobill, but the bribes certainly had to help.
How should he phrase it? 'So where are the local haunts?'
Genius Cunningham. Genius.
Rehearsing the lines in his head, the metaphorical script being jostled by the actor in his brain, he didn't hear a few others enter into the men's room.
Sneakers squeaked against the checkered and chipped linoleum floor.
"Well, well gentlemen, looks like we got the king of the misfit rejects of Norrisville high. Lanky Runningman."
Randy briefly blinked, processing what he just heard. He let out a nose laugh. Amity Park wasn't short on biting banter. That was supposed to be banter, right? Continuing to wash his hands, he ignored the lumbering herd of jocks, all of whom were patting each other firmly on the back for their cleverness.
"Hey, you listening to me, Runningman? I'm talking to you."
"You think you can just come in and take Mikey's spot? He's our prime nerd to pummel, but I guess we'll just have to make-"
Rolling his eyes, obvious enough so the pack could see him in the mirror, Randy began pumping the paper towel machine. Recognizing the leader of this pack as the same blond jerk from Falluca's class.
Upon fully turning around, he offered his hand, "Oh sorry, Randy Cunningham, nice to meet you, and you are?"
"Me? Well, you can call me your beat down, Dashell Baxter."
He did give Baxter the opportunity, Randy sighed. He calmly placed his hand on his chin— retracting his stretch of the Olive Branch, "That's funny."
Before allowing Dash to pipe in some dim-witted comment, Randy continued eyeing Dash up and down," I knew someone like you back home…"
"I'm sure you know a lot of people cooler than you, Runningman." Dash high-fived a couple of his buddies for moral support.
Circling around them with predator instinct, Randy guffawed smirking," I guess so, but he had the same vacant expression, stupid voice,"
Dash's expression dropped from that of menacing joy to beet-faced anger.
"...the same probability of working at a gas station for the rest of his life—" Randy opened his arms as if to rub in the fact that he wasn't afraid," you wanna know what his name is?"
"DEAD!" Dash roared, charging toward Cunningham. Like lightning striking the ground, all that could be seen as a blur of color. The rubber soles of his shoes stretched against the damp floor.
Throwing the loosely wadded paper towel directly to Dash's line of sight. The resting face Cunningham wore hadn't switched at all as he stepped out of the stampeding bully's path.
The satisfying noise that came from flesh and bone being smacked into the aluminum metal of the bathroom's stall had reverberated through the entire restaurant.
"Actually, his name is Bash," Randy stated, shutting off the sink's faucet.
The jocks quickly parted to each side of the bathroom, allowing Randy to exit, "I trust you guys can pick up your trash on the way out."
Perhaps as a display of victory, he held the door open as the jocks carried Dash out for all of the patrons of the Nasty-Burger to see. Blood was leaking and staining Dash's White T-shirt. He whined, "You broke my friggin' nose!"
"You're overreacting," Randy said," I didn't break your nose... you broke your nose." He closed the bathroom door behind them, stepping back into the bright ambient sunset filled diner. The burning orange light bouncing off the tile, the sun was spotlighting Cunningham. Danny's jaw fell open, Tucker stared directly at Randy in absolute awe, and Sam's neutrality had a crack of a surprised smile when she saw Dash writhe in pain.
Randy slapped a fist into his hand, triumphantly," Norrisville kids don't play around, you get me?"
Everyone immediately went back to what they were doing. If it wasn't a ghost attack, that meant they could go back to eating undisturbed. What this town needed was perhaps just the normal petty trouble that any small town gets into— such as teens brawling.
Nearly standing up, Danny demanded out of shock," What the heck was that about?"
"Ah, that? Wasn't anything," Randy dusted himself off with an air of fake humility.
"You gotta pretty big grin on your face for it being just nothing." Sam attested.
"He went to punch me, but he slipped and fell; there were witnesses."
"Right," Sam incredulously agreed.
Tucker said matter of factly," I'm going to marry you."
Causing the table to fall into laughter abruptly.
Randy scooted back into his side of the table. Briefly, his eyes fell to his bag. His expression shifted slightly— it was minute, a flash. Sam noticed, though.
Shoving his bag to the floor under the table, almost annoyed— he went back to the facade he had been leaning into the whole afternoon," So, as you all know— I'm a bit of a reckless youth."
"An American daredevil," Manson crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows.
Danny pointed at Randy with a french fry, "You're crazy enough to fight Dash and win."
"It was a fluke," Cunningham placed a hand on the back of his neck, "honest."
"... so this Invisobill dude I've been hearing about…" he began drawing circles on the table with his straw wrapper, "since you guys are locals… you wouldn't happen to know where he hangs out?"
Danny coughed a fry stuck in his windpipe. Sam quickly got Fenton his root beer. While Tucker came to rescue with, "Us? Nah, man— we don't pay attention to stuff like that— we hate ghosts!"
Excitedly Randy balled his hands together, "Please? Oh, bodacious smoking hot, please? What do I gotta do? Do you guys gotta haze me first? Do I need to say his name three times in a mirror?"
"No— god no, nothing like that, jeez!" Fenton swallowed down.
Tucker continued to run interference, "Why do you want to meet Invisobill so bad?"
"Ah, C'mon, I have to explain it?" Randy prodded, "Isn't he like a tourist attraction around here?"
"No!" All three of them protested at the same time.
Randy deflated, "you're breaking my heart here; all I wanna do is meet a ghost and get an exorcism—" he whined, "it's on my bucket list."
Danny would've been flattered if what Randy said wasn't totally weird. Danny took another sip of his drink, thinking of another excuse to dissuade Cunningham from pursuing the Phantom. Fenton shrugged, "You want to be possessed by a dangerous criminal? It's your funeral, man."
"I don't think he's as bad as everyone makes him out to be," Randy put his head on his arms resting on the table, looking up at the three with puppy eyes. He just needed a scrap of information— a fragment of anything.
Sam outright refused, "Are you crazy?"
"Give me one good reason!"
Danny found himself looking at Sam, Sam looked at Tucker, and Tucker looked at the ceiling—
The bell at the front chimed furiously as a woman burst in screaming," DRAGON, HUGE— EVERYONE RUN, ITS A DRAGON!"
"Sam, Tucker-" Danny looked at his friends before half announcing," I'm going…"
Randy's stunned face was attuned to the front entrance, but Danny couldn't take the chance, however," I'm going to... go get help!"
Danny launched himself over the table, then leaped over Randy's head. Going through the fire exit.
Fenton went high, Randy dove under the table, hugging his bag to his chest- and that was the last Danny saw out of his peripherals. Crashing through the double doors, into the alleyway- which thankfully was vacant. The outside looked as hectic as inside of the Nasty Burger.
The two pale blue rings washed over his body almost automatically. His bones burned and bent- the melting sensation that was all too familiar traveled in jolts and sparks in his nerves. Within a blink: Danny Fenton became Invisobill-
Er, Danny Phantom.
Dammit, Randy.
The gaunt crimson snake of a dragon had returned.
Phantom took a second to assess the situation; he took cover behind a parked car. He took peeks at the carnage- it felt like every time he popped up, the dragon conveniently whipped up some debris towards his head. The dying sun behind the town's taller buildings, the shine from the dragon's scales was hazy, almost making the dragon itself appear as a heat-mirage.
The dragon called out, "Aight, Invisobill, I know you're around here somewhere!"
Danny rolled his eyes. Of course. Biting the bullet, the phantom popped through the classic convertible. Danny replied, "Over here, skinny!"
Snapping to attention, the dragon exhaled a cloud of smoke with a growl. Then large wings raised into the sky, casting a large shadow across the parking lot and over Danny.
Instinctively he quickly switched to intangible. If Danny led him away from the diner, the dragon could tire himself out-
A crack noise had cut through the town as if the population wasn't even a factor. Not enough bodies to absorb the sound.
In a sonic boom, the dragon harpooned itself onto the distracted phantom. Its claws digging into Danny's shoulders, which shouldn't have been possible. The dragon could still somehow interact with him despite being…
"You could've just stayed down, dawg," The dragon sneered, "After all, you should know dragons can still beat the stuffing out of ghosts no matter how solid you think you are."
As they began to climb into the air, faster and faster- the ground seemed to expand- the once big things now shrinking too rapidly for comfort. The air had difficulty reaching Danny's lungs. Though the thing that seemed the most unfathomable was that a dragon used the colloquialism, 'Dawg.'
If he weren't fighting for his life, he would've put that so on blast-
Danny grunted out, barely hearing himself over the sharp cold wind rushing past his ears, "I guess that goes both ways?"
Then he pressed his feet into the dragon's narrow chest- almost counting the ribs through his shoes. He fired an emerald ectoblast from his boots, escaping the dragon's grasp- executing a backflip.
A risky idea entered into his oxygen-deprived head; it was certainly stupid enough.
Woozily, he staggered in the air- pointing at the dragon, he taunted, "You know, you've got to be the smallest dragon I've ever seen!"
"You look like you belong on a hotdog bun! With relish!"
The dragon flapped its wings idly. He seemed both perplexed and bothered, "Are you serious-"
"Ladies and gentleman: I've found the world's largest shrimp!"
"Short jokes? Huh?" The dragon pressed, his scales bristling. Puffing himself up like a stray cat. Anger sharpening the sheen of his scales in the light, "You got short jokes?"
"Well, if I had tall jokes, I wouldn't be using them."
The dragon's slitted pupils widened before narrowing with intensity and charged again. Crashing into Danny's svelte frame, the dragon then changed trajectory- now sending Danny speeding toward the ground.
Burying its claws into Danny once again, this time right below his ribs, squeezing him like an infectious tick.
Stealing a glance back over his shoulder, the Phantom spotted the roof of the Nasty Burger. This was going to be interesting, or really really painful. Danny held the thought at the front of his consciousness. His head fluttering- brain jostled by being tossed in the air- the pressure of the air flexed in his body- he let out a battle cry. Intangibility spread from the center of his chest out- crawling up the dragon's arms- covering the dragon's intimidating wings. Letting the sun through.
When Danny came to, he was in the rubble of the restaurant. A table was buried inside of his torso, which explained the raging pain in his hip. Whoops. At least he was still in ghost mode, thank god, Danny stood up, breathing deeply. Still in ghost mode.
"Aw, man!" The dragon cursed.
Glancing up, Danny admired his handiwork. The dragon was submerged halfway through the Nasty Burger's ceiling, his lower body stuck. Effectively trapped. If he didn't want to bring the entire building down, that dragon had to be still. It wasn't the cleanest solution, but it gave Danny a moment to think of his next move. Evacuating the location and- and… Well, Danny couldn't necessarily kill the thing. The perks of dealing with ghosts are they could typically take pain exceptionally better, and Danny didn't have to worry about killing them again-
Which probably wasn't possible. He hoped at least.
So there are two types of dragons, Danny noted. Live ones could apparently see, hear, and touch ghosts while intangible. That was troublesome.
"Is everyone okay?" Danny shouted into the dining hall.
There were various grunts and groans from inside the kitchen. Okay-ish, he concluded. Okay, enough to move. Sam emerged from the cashier's counter. Tucker eventually came out after hiding but lingered in the open, snapping pictures of the dragon.
The dragon's arms hung by its head, pathetically," Ey dawg, do you mind?"
"No, Not at all," Foley posed for a selfie before the flash timer off.
The dragon hissed- trying to take a swipe out of him, but Tucker ducked under the dragon's claw.
Gesturing to the creature and opening up the floor to his friends, "What are we gonna do with this thing?
Sam shrugged,"... well, if he's alive…"
"It's not really our department, is it? Dealing with live dangerous creatures?" Tucker acknowledged.
"Can y'all not see that I'm right here?" The dragon pointed to itself, "Did the talking dragon just suddenly start talking to hisself?"
"Well, we can't just leave him here!" Danny fumed
"That's funny. I think he'd make a good artist statement on overhunting."
Danny glanced at Sam, "Dude, what the hell? Who's side are you on? Are you only pro-hunting mythical creatures?"
The question garnered a response by way of a glare.
Norrisville Ninja appeared from behind a caved-in section of booths, rather comfortable- unbothered, "Uh, over here, Billy Idol."
"Hey! I'm not done with you. You're in violation of the mythical creature ordinan-" The dragon pouted, turning his serpent body counter-clockwise to get a better view of the phantom. However, his eyes landed on the ninja. In recognition, it seemed, the dragon tried to thrash again, "You-! Hey, step off! Can't you see we're in the middle of something?"
"Settle down!" Tucker yelped, "You're gonna hurt someone! Probably me!"
The ninja rolled his eyes, muttering, "I can say that certainly, you're in the middle of something." Norrisville, "No offense, but uh- a close-ranged attack? Looks like someone didn't do their homework."
"Yeah, you say that because you're right-side-up."
"Uh, yeah, no duh." The ninja picked at his nails through his bodysuit, "As for the civilians," He glowered at both Sam and Tucker, "While your 'friends' took shelter, Inviso. Actually, Can I call you Inviso? What do you prefer? Bill?"
"Phantom, actually," The ghost corrected. He switched his eyes to his friends, worried that they could become involved.
Norrisville leaned back slightly on his large ningato, amused by Danny's response, "Delightful. While your pals here took the time to save their own hides, I made sure everyone evacuated. I wanted to make sure no one got hurt, in case our 'chat' gets uh- heh, what's the word? Dragon, do you got anything?"
"..." The Dragon hissed, his forked tongue gliding between his teeth.
"Sourpuss," The ninja commented. The ninja beamed, "Anyway, lucky me, you guys decided to come back. Thanks for saving me a jog."
Danny shifted in forward slightly. If he could make the ninja think he was going for a tackle, Fenton could just blast him.
Before the Phantom even lifted his hand. A blue glowing knife streaked through the air past his head. The knife shot past, sending a shiver through the ghost's body- as if he couldn't get any colder. It spoke in tempting whispers and tortured screams. Plunging it into the back wall, Norrisville chided himself.
"Forgive me, I know I tend to ramble," The ninja lowered his voice to a growl, "I always seem to lose the point."
"I'd say you missed it completely," Danny clarified.
"Oh my god, just fight already-!" The dragon barked, spewing a plume of fire toward the Ninja. The threat was now shifting.
Sam And Tucker hit the deck again. Tucker got under one of the table's undamaged
Norrisville's scarf caught the edges of the flame, which he sought to beat down. The flame couldn't break the material of the scarf, oddly. Rather ungracefully, he stumbled back, putting weight on his already injured leg. Somewhere in the scuffle, the ninja got a piece of the roof. And the hanging light, and a chair. Actually, a lot of pieces. He plucked his scarf from the ground to study it for a second.
He smirked beneath his mask- The ninja whipped his scarf toward the Phantom, wrapping it around his neck. Yanking him forward into a headbutt.
The Ninja hopped over him, extracting the Gētokīpā from the wall. The fire on his scarf now chilled just by the temperature of Danny's body- and the ghost was still reeling from the blow, rubbing his forehead. The distance between them was closing.
Spinning the knife with finesse, the ninja entered into a power stance, "What I want to say before I utterly destroy you in this fast-food establishment is that this isn't personal."
Foley, always the intellectual, interjected from the safety of the employee's area, "Wait, you- you're a total cliche!"
Danny glanced over his shoulder. Despite loving his friends and their beautiful minds- they never seemed to stay out of it!
The ninja halted; he hunched like the wind was knocked out of him, "E-excuse me?"
"Ninjas are paid assassins," Tucker panted, slightly winded from having a full stomach and running around, "Wh-who's- who's paying you to do this?"
"You guys are some eager beavers," The ninja entertained the kid while tightening the grip on his knife. He snapped his attention to Danny, who seemed to be distracted by his friends, "aren't you?"
Danny was open for another hit. Thinking fast, Sam threw herself into the fray, hopping over a pile of rubble, shielding Danny. Before the ninja could plunge the blade down, she said nothing but tried to find his eyes, to find any source of humanity in the black suit. Danny was startled at how close she was. He would've moved her immediately out of the way if Norrisville didn't seem to be hesitating. He placed the knife back in his suit but removed his chain sickle in its place.
"That's real cute, goth girl." The ninja admitted because she clearly caught him in a moral quandary- he couldn't hurt an innocent, and despite the make-up and garbage-y attitude, she was a civilian. She got him. However-
Norrisville lassoed the chain around the dragon's chest, "I'm afraid, I'm cuter." then heaved with all of his body weight. The dragon dropping onto the ground, the ceiling being reduced to crumbs and fiberglass around them all.
Danny grasped Sam by the shoulders, making them both intangible, and prayed it would work this time.
_
After the dust cleared, the Dragon had taken to the skies once again- the ninja was gone again. And Danny- ugh, Danny was about three seconds away from collapsing in a heap of exhausted bones and essay dread. The fog from the debris provided enough cover to allow Danny to switch back, unnoticed. In all the commotion, someone did call an ambulance.
Despite the total destruction of the Nasty Burger, only two people were injured.
Randall Cunningham: broken ankle, concussion, cracked ribs
And Dashell Baxter: Broken nose.
