KicaCris: Here you go guys! Chapter 16 is here! Will the drama continue?
ThePhantomSoldier: Remember, well thought out reviews help us write and edit faster. Any review that includes the word update will not count.
Original Story by GND-KicaCris
Co-written and edited by The Phantom Soldier
"Wreck-it Ralph" © Disney
Chapter 16: "Gray Bricks"
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Having worn out his throat from bellowing his frustrations to the saccharine plains of Sugar Rush, Wreck-It Ralph began slowly trudging back the way he had come, his spirit, mind and heart numb. He felt physically drained, but in a way much worse than even the most grueling days at work spent climbing up buildings and pounding the bricks with his fists. He felt…broken.
As he passed through the Sugar Village, with its miniaturized houses housing the Sugar Racers and the citizens, Ralph heard little snatches of their conversations, muffled though they were behind the locked doors and sugar coated walls as he passed.
"I knew Ralph wouldn't let her get away with it!"
"Thank the programmers he came when he did!"
"He showed her what happens when you mess with the prez!"
"Our hero!"
Despite their words of honest and enthusiastic praise, each word felt like physical blow to his being, making his journey that much more agonizing. But he kept lumbering forward, hiking his way up the Rainbow Bridge, passing through the tunnel and out of Sugar Rush.
His demeanor had not improved by the time he entered Game Central Station. He moved as though he were in a haze, dimly aware of the world around him. He crossed the grand concourse without incident, entering the terminal for Fix-It Felix Jr. and heading for the train.
The train had also gained an update with the game. Instead of a few little squat cars, it was now resembled something like a train at an amusement park, with an art deco styled steam engine pulling several cars that would comfortable seat the increased number Nicelanders. And whether by fluke or design, the train featured a gondola behind the engine's tender, its bottom and sides padded and its size just comfortable enough for Ralph's size.
Ralph took no time to admire the new details of the train. He simply climbed into the car that he could fit in and slumped there. The engine let out a shrill whistle as it lurched forward with a jolt and sped off into the tunnel leading into the game.
The journey was uneventful, as they all were. The train pulled into the new Nicetown Station, a quaint hometown brick building with a green roof and a clock tower. Again, Ralph took no notice of the new details. He just extricated himself from his carriage as the train screeched to a halt and set off down the road in front of the station.
He had no idea where he was walking to nor did he care. Any Nicelanders that saw him gave him a friendly wave, but Ralph couldn't see them, his eyes looking as though they were lost in a mist of confusion. Though the older ones could tell that Ralph was having difficulty with something, they knew better than to try and stop him and ask if something was wrong. Despite his gentle nature, Ralph was still a force to be reckoned with.
So Ralph kept walking. He walked through the suburban areas, through the beachside boardwalk and through the downtown area full of skyscrapers. He took notice of none of it. His feet took him wherever they wanted. As it happened, they began taking him to a part that Ralph hadn't noticed before.
Of course, he didn't notice it until his foot caught itself in a pot hole and he stubbed his toe. The pain immediately jolted his senses back online, and he let out a growl of frustration at pain's sudden intrusion.
"Lousy pot hole," he hissed, trying to force the pain away. "Why doesn't Felix fix…these…things…" His voice trailed off as he took a look around him.
He was standing in the center of a large suspension bridge, suspended over the Nicetown harbor. Looking behind him, he could see the well paved road and skyscrapers of the city, but when he turned to face forward, the road ahead of him was cracked and full of pot holes, and the buildings that he could see were dark shadows beneath a hazy sky. "What is that place," he wondered aloud, his curiosity pushing him forward.
As he reached the end of the bridge, Ralph spotted a sign. Though worn and corroded with rust, the sign still read Now Entering Bricklyn, Territory of Wreck-It Ralph.
"Bricklyn?" Ralph said, trying the word out on his tongue. It seemed strange at first, but it sounded uniquely familiar to him, like a memory within a dream. "Wonder if this place is some kind of locked bonus level or something. And if it's mine, then I guess I have the right to check it out." With heavy steps, Ralph stepped forward and began exploring this new and decrepit looking place.
Ralph wandered the streets, taking notice of the buildings. All of them were brick, some looking like the cleaner buildings he and Felix had put together in what was East Niceland a year ago. Others looked like warehouses, their facades and worn by years of neglect, painted sides advertising fictional products long worn away by the march of time. And all the way Ralph walked, not one light shone through any of the windows. Not even the old streetlamps, their black coats of paint chipping away, were lit. It was quiet and Wreck-It Ralph was alone. Alone with his thoughts and anger.
'She was wrong to do it,' he growled in his mind. 'She made her own sister game over. Vanellope was...Vanellope...Oh Vanellope.' The thought of how angry his best friend had been with him stopped him cold in his tracks, his mind trying to grasp what had happened. 'She was angry at me...for protecting her? For failing to protect her? For yelling at her sister? What did I...?'
His mind running every which way but helpful, Ralph suddenly found his vision spinning. He stumbled over to a streetlamp and leaned against it, trying to regain his bearings. He was just beginning to get his vision to straighten out when the streetlamp bent, whether from age or his considerable weight, he did not know. What he did know was the kiss of red brick across his face as his lean sudden imbalance sent him careening into the side of a building.
The wall crumbled from Ralph's collision with it, bricks falling from crumbling mortar as a cloud of red dust issued forth from the collapse. Ralph found himself lying under a pile of bricks, just like the nights he had spent living in the dump.
Somewhere deep inside, the spark of Ralph's anger began to build into a roaring inferno, stoked by everything that was happening around him. Anger at the gamers, anger at the bricks, anger at the building, anger at Vanellope, anger at Chocolette, but worst of all, anger at himself. He leapt out of the pile of bricks and sent himself flying towards the building across the way, his fist raised and ready to make contact.
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"So why are we lookin' for the junk heap again," Calhoun asked for the umpteenth time, a long suffering sigh lurking beneath her tone.
Felix, too worried to hear the irritation in her voice, answered with in a voice just barely below panicked. "I'm worried about him Tammy! He saw something happen in Sugar Rush and he took off like a slow freight train! Maybe not fast, but definitely not something that can be stopped if it doesn't want to!"
The husband and wife were gliding high above Nicetown on Calhoun's cruiser, searching for any sign of Ralph. By the time Felix had managed to enlist Calhoun's help and get back to GCS, Ralph had left Sugar Rush and had returned to Fix-It Felix Jr. The townsfolk said they had seen him walking past, looking like he was oblivious to the world around him. They'd even tried looking for him at his shack, but they had no luck there either.
"How is it that a nine and a half foot tall wrecking ball doesn't stick out like a dog at a cat convention?" Calhoun asked aloud, scanning the city below for any sign of Ralph.
Felix sighed in agreement. "I don't know Tammy. I just hope he's-"
A sound like thunder interrupted the handyman, making him and the sergeant jump.
"Golly! What was that?!" Felix yelled, looking around for the source.
The sergeant's eyes locked in on the origin right away. "There," she said tersely, pointing across the river to where a huge cloud of dust was rising up from the dark and desolate shore. "I'll bet diamonds to donuts that's where we'll find him." Without even waiting for her husband to reply, Calhoun kicked the board into life and zoomed off towards the looming dust cloud.
Felix gulped, his worry forming an uneasy knot in his stomach. 'Ralph old buddy...Just what are you doing?'
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Ralph sat in the middle of the street, breathing heavily as he laid his fists on the ground. Around him, the wreckage of at least ten buildings surrounded him, lying in dashed piles of brick, mortar and shattered glass. The wrecker just continued fuming, his breath coming out in labored gasps.
His mind was numb, his fists were worn, tattered and bruised from wrecking the buildings, and he was still angry. He was so focused on his anger that he didn't even hear the snap hiss of rocket boosters shutting off behind him.
"Uhm...Ralph? You okay?"
Ralph reacted immediately, lashing out with a reverse haymaker that took out another streetlamp. Calhoun reacted just as fast, grabbing her husband and throwing the both of them to the ground, Ralph's arm and fist just brushing the hairs on her head.
Calhoun jumped out of the prone position she'd been in and launched herself forward towards Ralph, her hand clenched into a fist that contacted with the back of Ralph's head, sending the bad-guy stumbling forward. "SNAP OUT OF WRECK-IT!" she bellowed.
Thrown off of his balance again, Ralph tripped over, his head colliding with a fire hydrant and knocking from its foundation. A geyser of cold water erupted into the air, sprinkling the trio with an ad hoc rain storm.
Calhoun watched as Ralph laid there, unmoving as the water soaked all of them. Part of her was still angry and confused at what had happened, but another part of her was concerned she had just knocked him out cold.
Her concern evaporated as he slowly picked himself up from his prone position, turning around to face her again with eyes hardened by anger. "Mind tellin' me what that was for, Sergeant?" he growled, his voice not the least bit repentant.
Calhoun matched his glare with her own, her mind tuned to full-on sergeant mode. "Mind telling me why you took a swipe at me and Felix in the first place, wrecker?" she snarled, her voice hard as granite.
"Took a swipe at you? I didn't-" Ralph began, but quickly stopped. His eyes changed from anger laden to sown with confusion as he stared at Calhoun and the still prone Felix. Then his eyes turned to look at the destruction all around him. The sergeant's words started to make sense. "I didn't...did I?"
Calhoun quirked an eyebrow at the bad-guy. 'He truly doesn't remember. Something's not right here.' She regarded him coolly as she reached behind her and yanked Felix up from the street. "Alright scrapper, what happened? And don't tell me you tripped and the buildings fell down."
Ralph tensed his jaw and looked away. His memory reminding him of what had happened throughout the night. He didn't want to have to go through the details of what he'd done. He just wanted to be left alone. "Nothing," he spat out, his eyes refusing to meet Calhoun's steely gaze.
"'Nothing' doesn't level a city block Wreck-It," she countered, her eyes starting to harden again as her voice let hints of anger slip back in. "'Nothing' doesn't nearly take our heads off. The truth. Now."
Ralph was just about to tell her to go stick her head in a cy-bug nest when Felix interjected. "Please Ralph. We want to help. What happened in Sugar Rush?"
The wrecker took a deep breath and sighed. Felix's words managed to pierce his wall of anger and touch the well of regret he was trying to force down. "Chocolette made Vanellope game over," he said simply, preferring to just tell the truth than cover it up.
Felix gasped at this information while Calhoun simply gawked. "A-are you sure?" the handyman gasped out, wishing he had misheard.
"I heard her cackling from across the arcade Felix," Ralph said calmly and evenly. "I saw her do it. Saw her take the shot, saw Vanellope's kart disintegrate, and the big 'GAME OVER' letters as Vanellope vanished. She did it."
It was silent for a time after that, the three of them letting that information sink in. It was Felix who broke the silence first. "Ralph...is that why you went over to Sugar Rush? To make sure Vanellope was okay?"
Ralph kept his eyes glued to the asphalt, unable to bring them to look at his friends. He knew if he did, they'd see the mixture of anger and sadness swirling within them, one fighting the other for dominance. He just nodded his head. His answer seemed to satisfy Felix, who sighed in relief.
Calhoun, however, was not so easily dissuaded. She could sense something had gone horribly wrong. "What else did you do there, Wreck-It?" she asked, her voice low and suspicious. When Ralph said nothing in return, Calhoun strode forward and grabbed him by his collar, yanking his head down so they were face to face. "What else did you do in Sugar Rush?!"
Ralph glared back at her, his anger filling his once more. But instead of lashing out physically, he gave voice to the frustrations building within him. "I CALLED HER A WITCH! THERE! YA HAPPY?!" he shouted, nearly knocking the soldier back.
Felix gasped at his sudden outburst, and did so again as he saw his wife's hand whip out and slap Ralph across the face.
The force of the slap turned Ralph's head sideways, leaving a mark on the side of his face. Before he could turn his head back to glare at the sergeant, Calhoun was already laying into him. "You did WHAT?! How are we supposed to know if she's planning something if you insult her and she dumps your sorry behind? Aren't you worried about Vanellope you miserable junk pile? Don't you ever stop to think for ONCE?!" Calhoun pulled her hand back to deliver another blow to Ralph. Felix attempted to call out and tell her to stop, but as the hand came forward, it was stopped dead in the air by an immovable object: Ralph's hand.
Ralph's fingers closed around Calhoun's arm like a vise, trapping it. He was keeping just enough pressure on it to make sure it couldn't escape without crushing it. Calhoun tried to pull her arm away, finding the effort futile as she knew that there was nothing in the arcade that could pry Wreck-It Ralph's hands open. Instead, she opted for her preferred route: intimidation. "Let. Go. Of. My. Hand. NOW. Wreck-It," she spat, expecting him to release.
"Y'know what Sarge?" Ralph said in a low voice, his eyes boring right into hers. "I'm gettin' real tired of being used as your walking punching bag. Why don't we see just how much you like being on the receiving end?"
Calhoun's eyes bolted open. This was not the Wreck-It Ralph she knew. This was someone much more dangerous. Staring into his eyes, she could see that he fully intended to back up what he was threatening. But she could see something else there as well, something that made the whole situation crystal clear to her. It was a feeling, a feeling she knew far too well: someone who was lost and violent thanks to a broken heart.
But she knew she wouldn't be able to withstand a direct punch from Ralph. She needed to get out his grip. Her mind started racing with all of her possible moves and her body instinctively tensed up, preparing to use one of them.
"THE TWO OF YOU STOP IT THIS VERY MINUTE!"
Before the situation could get anymore out of hand, they were pulled out of their stare down by the voice of Fix-It Felix Jr. yelling, something neither of them had ever known him to be any good at.
Looking over, they saw Felix standing there, his gloved hands balled up into fists and his body quaking, trying to remain calm. It would have been comical if the situation weren't so serious. Slowly, carefully, Ralph released Calhoun's arm and the two stepped away from one another, their eyes still locked on Felix.
"THAT'S BETTER!" he shouted, his face turning red. "RALPH, I DON'T CONDONE WHAT YOU SAID TO CHOCOLETTE, BUT THIS ISN'T THE WAY TO DEAL WITH YOUR ANGER! AND YOU MISS TAMORA JEAN CALHOUN FIX-IT! YOU DON'T GET TO HIT PEOPLE JUST BECAUSE THEY SAID SOMETHING THEY REGRET! NOW BOTH OF YOU CALM DOWN IMMEDIATELY!" Felix stood there, panting heavily from his rant, trying to regain his composure.
The wrecker and the sergeant turned towards each other, sizing each other up. They stood there, silent and still as statues.
It was Calhoun who spoke first. "I'm...sorry Wreck-It," she said. "I was…out of line." She looked away, genuinely feeling ashamed for having let her feelings get the better of her.
Ralph was stunned by her admission. He never thought he'd ever hear the words 'I'm sorry' come out of Sgt. Calhoun's mouth. Her admission touched a nerve within him and his shoulders sagged in defeat. "I'm…sorry too Sarge," he said, looking at the ground. He turned his head and looked over at Felix, his eyes full of exhaustion. "Sorry to you too, Felix."
Felix gave him a tired smile, nodding his head as he looked at his wife and his friend. "It's alright Ralph," he breathed, trying to keep him calm. "I'll just clean up this mess and we'll let you have some time to think, okay?"
Ralph raised his hand to tell Felix that he didn't have to, but the handyman already had his hammer in his hand. "Now let's see if one of these new little do-hickey power-ups really works," he said, digging into his pocket and withdrawing a golden nail. Placing the nail on the asphalt of the road, Felix swung his hammer down and drove it in. Instantly, a golden shockwave emanated from the hammer strike, spreading outwards. As Ralph and Calhoun watched, the buildings and other objects reformed back to their previous worn states, not a brick out of place among them that wasn't supposed to be.
Ralph and Calhoun looked around, amazed at what had just happened. When they looked at Felix, he had pulled his blue cap low over his eyes as he smiled bashfully and holstered his golden hammer at his side. "C'mon Tammy," he said. "Let's give Ralph some time to think."
Calhoun nodded and strode over to her cruiser as it hovered a few inches off the ground. "Take it easy soldier," she called over her shoulder. With a practiced ease, she stepped onto the board with Felix, giving the pedal a kick and sending it speeding off into the sky. Ralph merely looked on, wondering what he was going to do next.
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As the couple sped off into the sky, Felix chanced a look back at his friend. "Think he'll be alright?" he asked, a little bit of fear still creeping into his voice.
"Can't say honey-pint," Calhoun replied, navigating her board against the air currents.
"Think we should go check on Vanellope?" Felix asked, worried about the little candy president.
"If she's anything like Wreck-It, and we both know she is, it's probably better we let her cool her jets too," she replied. "I worry about her too, but there's no dealing with her when she's having a tantrum."
"I guess you're right," Felix sighed. "But what about Chocolette?"
Calhoun flashed a knowing grin at her husband. "I wouldn't worry too much about her. If she's any kind of bad-guy, she's not going to let Ralph go over one little spat. Bad-guys are a tenaciously stubborn breed."
Felix opened his mouth to counter her statement, but thinking on it, he realized his wife was right. He could only hope for the best.
"So what was that place back there," she asked.
The question caught Felix off guard. Looking behind him again, he took in the full scope of the area on the riverbank opposite of NiceTown. "Honestly Tammy, I don't have an itty-bitty clue," he said, scratching the back of his head. "I guess I completely forgot to ask Ralph while we were because I was so worried. Maybe it's some kind of bonus level that hasn't been unlocked yet, which is why I guess I never noticed it.
Calhoun seemed to accept this explanation, putting the information and location in the back of her mind for examining at a later date. For now, she just wanted to tell Felix one other thing. "Wanna know something else half-pint?" she asked.
"What's that Tammy?" he replied, not sure what else she had to say.
Calhoun's grin turned into one of seduction. "You look awfully cute when you rant like that," she hummed.
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Deprived of company, Ralph began wandering the streets of Bricklyn again, his mind calmed down for the time being. He moved up and down the streets, looking the building's of 'his' territory over.
Street after street, it was brick buildings, made up of bungalows, four story apartments, brownstones, warehouses and other buildings that were usually made from red brick. After thirty years of living in a pile of bricks, it almost seemed fitting that Ralph should be given a kingdom made of them.
Ralph was just turning a corner to try and find his way back to Nicetown when a speck of gray caught the corner of his eye. He stopped, backpedaling around the building corner and looked down the street. Sure enough, he could see a gray mass mixed in among the walls of red brick. His curiosity getting the better of him, he set off down the street to discover just what it was.
Arriving at the foot of the gray mass, he found himself staring at a wall made of concrete, lined with numerous windows. There was something oddly familiar about the worn concrete and the dirty windows. Peering up, he saw the next story was the same: concrete and lined with windows. The next story after that was brick, but still lined with numerous windows. Further and further up he let his vision travel, going up seven more stories made of brick before he reached the eleventh: a concrete capstone lined with high vaulted windows.
'This can't be,' he thought, refusing to believe his eyes.
Ralph walked around the building, looking for the entrance. When he found it, he stood rooted to the spot. The entrance was a set of glass double doors, shielded by what was once a bright blue cloth awning that still read in heavily faded words Niceland Apartments.
Ralph was dumbfounded. He was standing before the building that he had climbed nearly every day for thirty some odd years and it was even more abandoned than when he had gone on his game jumping misadventure. Ralph knew it was just graphic detailing, but the building looked like it'd been abandoned for years. In a way, it made him sad to see the place in such a state.
On a whim, Ralph stuck his hand into his overall pocket and dug around. After a minute of trying to find something, he finally clasped the object of his desire in his fingers and pulled it out: the key to the Niceland Penthouse. He allowed himself a smile at having kept it, even though he'd declined to live there after having won the bet a year ago. Craning his neck upwards, Ralph eyed the balcony that stood out from the building and didn't give it another thought. He leapt up and latched onto the side of the building, climbing it the same way he'd done for so many years.
He reached the balcony in no time, stepping onto it. Leaning forward, Ralph peered into the glass. Unfortunately, it was still much too dirty to see inside. Ralph sighed and pushed the key into the lock and turned it. The lock came undone without a fight, allowing Ralph to open the door on squeaky hinges.
The inside was much the same as he remembered it. The bar was still there, a couch and a table. Ralph took a tentative step inside, marveling at the fact he was there again.
He settled down on the couch, a slight cloud of dust rising up to greet him, but he didn't seem to notice. He was just suddenly aware of how worn out he was. He was weary, but not tired, even though the couch was relatively comfy.
'Y'know, now that the place is pretty much abandoned, maybe I could live here,' he mused. 'I mean, if Bricklyn is my territory, then it only makes sense that I live here. Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.' His spirit began to lift a little at that thought.
But just as suddenly as his spirit rose, it fell again as his thoughts took a sour turn. 'All this space, but who to share it with?' He could feel his sadness and anger building again, his hands reflexively balling up into fists. He quickly forced them down, trying to keep his cool.
'I'm not gonna go breaking stuff again,' he huffed. 'Maybe...maybe I should go get a drink.' That thought struck him as more agreeable. Stepping out onto the balcony and locking the door behind him, Ralph jumped down to the street and set off towards the Nicetown side of the river to catch a train to Tapper's.
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Ralph stumbled into Tapper's, his fists sore and his mind still angry. His discovery of the old Niceland apartment building in "his" territory had been a welcome distraction, but it wasn't enough to draw his mind away from what was eating at him. Even worse, it brought up memories of his first few years as a bad-guy and how he'd been treated then. The thoughts did nothing to help make him think any clearer. 'They're all wrong,' he thought bitterly. 'Chocolette acted way out of line.' This and other grumblings kept circling his head in a cycle of anger.
The bar was deserted, most of the characters staying in their games for the night, the weather outside having dampened their spirits as well.
The bar's quiet atmosphere suited Ralph just fine. He needed the peace and quiet anyway. Pulling up a barstool, he sat down and waited for the game's title character to appear.
Sure enough, not a minute later, Tapper appeared from the backroom, a welcoming smile on his mustachioed face. "Well if it ain't one of my best customers," he said cheerfully. "And on a night when nobody else came to visit. Ralph, I gotta say, it's good to see ya."
Ralph managed a weak smile at Tapper, giving him a half-hearted wave as the barman strode up to the wrecker's position. Without even asking, Tapper produced a glass mug and filled it to the brim with a frothing glass of root beer, setting the perspiring mug down in front of Ralph. "There y'are Ralph, the usual," he said, his tone still one of joviality.
Ralph simply nodded, picking up the mug and downing it in one gulp. As Tapper looked on in a state of slight shock, Ralph put the mug back down and gave the hand gesture to keep them coming.
Tapper did as signaled and refilled the glass. When Ralph drank this time, he did so much more slowly. He was halfway through the glass when Tapper's voice pierced his dark thoughts. "So where's that new girlfriend of yours?" he asked innocently.
The bad-guy choked for a moment, the suds stinging his throat and nose as he hacked up the root beer, trying to clear his breathing passages. When he finally got control of himself, he fixed Tapper with a scalding glare. "She's not my girlfriend and I'm not seeing her," he hissed.
Tapper remained unfazed by Ralph's outburst, not even moving an inch. He simply continued cleaning another mug with a white rag, not even making eye contact with Ralph. "Uh huh," he said simply, before heaving a long suffering sigh. Tapper had been in the business for the better part of two decades, and he knew a man suffering from a torn heart when he saw one. And if he was a judge of anything, right now, Ralph's was ripping itself asunder. "Okay Ralph, what happened?"
Ralph looked away, focusing on the wood paneling of the bar's walls. "I got no idea what you're talking about," he said lowly, his anger and guilt starting to rise to the surface.
"Ralph, you once told me I'd never give you a bum steer," Tapper said calmly. "I'd like to think you'd pay me the same courtesy."
Ralph frowned at that, knowing the bartender was right. 'If it hadn't been for Tapper telling me to check the Lost & Found, I'd have never bumped into Markowski and then...' His mind drifted off at the sequence of events from that night. He turned his eyes towards Tapper and he sighed heavily. "I'm sorry Tapper. Now, as you were saying?"
Tapper grinned beneath his mustache, sensing some progress being made. "As I was saying Ralph, I know when a fella is having a fight in his own head and heart. So why don't you start from the beginning and tell me what's got you coiled up like a cobra in a barrel full of mice?"
The wrecker tensed up, not liking the idea of sharing the story. Then again, no one was around, and it wasn't like one more person judging him would make a difference. So, polishing off his drink and signaling for another, Ralph made his decision. "Well, it all started the other night..."
For the next half hour, R.B. Tapper sat quietly polishing glasses and listening to Wreck-It Ralph tell his tale of happiness and woe of the events of the past few days. Ralph left out the part about his and Chocolette's intimate night, but somehow Tapper sensed something had happened. When Ralph had finished his story of how he came to be in Tapper's game, the wrecker drained another mug while Tapper wiped down the bar top.
"So what you're telling me is you got angry at her for doing her job, is that right," he asked, his voice holding neither praise nor condemnation.
"There's more to it than that, Tapper," he growled, looking down at his empty mug and feeling too angry to ask for another.
Tapper, however, wasn't buying what Ralph was selling. But years of experience told him that he'd never get anywhere throwing things back in Ralph's face, so he decided on a different tactic. "Ralph, that Sergeant Calhoun lady, she's married to Felix, right?" he asked, inspecting a glass in his hands.
The question caught Ralph off guard, making him knit his brow in confusion. "Uhm...yeah Tapper, for a year now, maybe a little less," he replied, uncertainty crawling into his tone.
"Alright Ralph," Tapper said. "How many times since they got hitched has the Sergeant yelled at you for doing your job?"
Ralph felt a lump of dread forming in the pit of his stomach. "Whaddaya mean Tapper," he asked, not liking where the conversation was going.
Tapper kept his hands on his work cleaning the bar top, but his mind and his words were aimed right at Ralph. "Well, think about it Ralph. Every morning, she sends Felix off with a parting kiss, knowing full well that you and him are gonna have it out a couple dozen times a day, and that odds are you're gonna have Felix pushing up daisies a few times. Does she ever berate you for doing what you do?"
Ralph opened his mouth to respond but he quickly closed it, at a complete loss for words. 'Never thought about it like that before,' he thought sourly.
Tapper kept pushing forward, seeing the gears turning behind Ralph's eyes. "Ralph, I know Vanellope's your best friend, and I and half the arcade know what you did to protect her, but you can't let that get in the way of what you could have with this new lady. She's still new, and she hasn't had to go through what you and the other bad-guys have gone through over the last thirty years. You really wanna make her go through what you went through just because she was doing her job?"
Ralph suddenly felt like a complete heel. 'I treated her even worse than everyone else treated me all those years,' he thought, his grief suddenly gripping his heart like a vise. He bowed his head low and stared into his empty mug, his saddened dog eyes staring back at him.
"There is one good thing though, Ralph," Tapper's voice suddenly intruded upon his thoughts again.
Ralph looked up at Tapper, his mourning eyes haunted by visions of what he'd done that night. "What could possibly be good about all of this?" he asked.
Tapper set down the mug he was polishing and looked Ralph earnestly in the eye. "Despite your name, you can still fix this," the barman said, giving Ralph a slow, almost imperceptible nod.
The wrecker's heart broke through the chains of sadness shackling it as it tried to leap straight through his chest at that realization. He was almost about to whip around and run straight there when he felt a hand gripping his arm. Looking down, he saw it was Tapper's. When he looked up, Tapper's eyes held a serious quality to them.
"Much as I can see you want to Ralph, I don't suggest you do it now," Tapper warned. Before Ralph could question it, Tapper continued onward. "For one thing, it's near midnight, so odds are she's fallen asleep by now. For another, like you she probably needs her 'alone time' as well. I suggest you go and apologize to that girl first thing after work tomorrow."
Ralph nodded dumbly, realizing that the bartender's words made sense. He would go and apologize to Chocolette right after work the next day. For now, he suddenly felt extremely worn out as a yawn escaped his lips. With another nod towards Tapper, he turned on his heel and moved slowly towards the exit.
Just before he pushed the door open, he looked over his shoulder. "Hey Tapper?" he called softly.
"Yeah Ralph?" replied the barman, momentarily stopping his glass polishing to look at his regular customer.
Ralph managed to form a tired smile on his lips. "Thanks," was all he said as he turned back around and walked out of the exit.
Tapper simply smiled at the wrecker's show of gratitude, glad that he could help one of his friends.
-0-0-0-
The following morning, Litwak arrived early to his arcade. Saturday had begun much sunnier than the previous days thankfully, so perhaps business was finally about to return to normal, at least for today. Unluckily and luckily for him, the following week would be spring break for most of the schools, and Litwak had made it a point years ago to close during that time for two reasons: the first was so he could make sure the kids were hopefully outside playing instead of inside playing video games, and the second was so he could take a little vacation time. It was more the first reason than the second, for despite Litwak's love of his games, he knew the kids had to discover that there were still other adventures of their own making to be had in life. Besides, he always reopened the following Saturday, so the kids weren't completely deprived during their vacations.
He took off his hat and hung his coat on the nearest rack, and walked to his office. "Probably for the best anyway…the forecast said there might be a few more storms coming in next week," he mumbled thoughtfully, scratching his chin and taking a seat behind his old fashioned desk.
His elderly eyes then noticed a yellow poste-it sticker glued to the surface of his table. Taking it in his hand he read it and suddenly remembered what the note meant. He picked up his land line phone and dialed a telephone number. It rang a few times and soon someone answered him.
"Hey Steve, it's Litwak. How are you doing boy?" the old owner said with a smile. A much younger voice answered him back tiredly from the other side. Litwak chuckled.
"What do you mean 'it's early'? It's almost 7am kid! Rise and shine!- Oh okay, don't get cranky with me, young man," he said with an amused smile.
"Alright I'll be quick and let you continue sleeping, I need to ask you something about this game we installed last week…the modern one!" he waited as the voice on the other side answered him sleepily.
"Yeah the fighting one of the…'Wii' I think…" he chuckled, still amused by the strange name of the console. 'Japanese!' he thought with a chuckle.
"Well, the kids have complained about a certain character that has 'disappeared' from the character selection rooster, and I don't understand what that's supposed to mean. You told me there were some locked characters, right?" he questioned confusedly. Why were these modern game always so complicated?
"Aha…aha…" he listened carefully. "Yeah that's what I thought, maybe the kids expected all of the characters to be already unlocked when we installed it. Well, I'll just tell them to keep playing until he gets unlocked, I guess. Thanks Steve, I'll see you in two weeks!" Relieved, he hung up the phone and smiled brightly.
"I knew it was probably nothing to worry about," he said and proceeded to start cleaning in preparation for the business day.
-0-0-0-
Razz walked slowly through the dark halls of the castle, her orange eyes focused on the white marble floors underneath her platform boots while her mind remained clouded with worry and concern. She could still feel her code buzzing and jolting knowingly with rage and darkness as she approached the tall doors that lead to the throne room. There, in front of them was Bonbon Lola, sighing thoughtfully while keeping an eye on the sealed doors. To Razz's surprise, there were no tremors or blaring sounds this morning.
"Has the boss calmed down?" her voice startled the short pink majordomo, spinning around to look at her with surprise shining in her big tired eyes. The orange sour racer could tell that their sugar-free advisor had spent the night without getting any sleep.
"Mon dieu! You almost gave me a heart attack, Lady Razz," Lola breathed sharply, looking remarkably tired. There were even dark rings under her eyes.
Razz stopped a few inches away from her. "Sorry Lola, didn't mean to" she smiled warily and fixed her eyes on the tall doors of the throne room again.
The round sugar-free candy glanced back at the doors too. "Je ne sais pas Lady Razz…it has been pretty quiet for a time but I haven't entered to check on her majesty," Lola admitted as her forehead wrinkled in the form of a worried frown.
"I see...well good then. It would be pretty dangerous for you to enter there on your own if the 'code black' is still in effect...once the game day is over, me and the others will enter to check on her. She hasn't reset yet so she's probably worn out by now," Razz elaborated wisely, digging her hands in her pants' pockets and leaning her hip to one side.
"How are we going to manage today?" Lola suddenly questioned her anxiously, wringing her tiny candy hands in worry. "I don't think ze queen is in proper condition for a game day."
Razz sighed heavily. "I told the others to spare mercy to none; we'll be especially brutal with the gamers so none shall even pass the lower levels in the Easy Mode, that way the queen won't be needed. I even ordered the Ice Cream Snowmen to sabotage the road to the Rainbow Road Cave just in case. Hopefully, we'll have the Queen back on track by the end of the day." She turned and began to walk to the door that lead to the castle's top shed, where the Sour Racer's Garage was.
"Lady Razz," she suddenly heard Bonbon Lola speak, her voice one of pleading. "About Sir Wreck-It-"
"Don't Lola," she hissed through gritted teeth without even sparing her a glance. "Don't even try!" She kept walking to the door.
Lola flinched as the orange racer opened the door and slammed it closed behind her. She huffed in frustration at her. Of course Razz and the rest of the Sour Racers were mad at the Queen's lover and there was little she could do to help them calm down, as their codes were linked to the dark monarch's own life code and therefore, if her code was overwhelmed with hatred and dark feelings so was theirs.
It was something most minions in video games had to deal and live with for the rest of their existence just as the fact that if the main Bad-Guy ever dies, so will his/her minions. Lola could feel it in her code too, the intense toxic feelings of the monarch also tingling through her as her code too was linked to hers. But contrary to the rest of Black Cola Castle's residents, she had some control over it, which prevented it from fully influencing her.
The loyal majordomo looked at the throne room's twin doors, noticing the golden engravings and swirls that adorned them. Combined, they formed two dragons, one black and another white one facing each other angrily. "Si l'amour est vrai, il sera de retour pour elle!"she whispered with resolution.
-0-0-0-
"NABISCO! Where have you hidden yourself, old man?!" Vanellope hollered, her voice echoing throughout her castle. She had been looking for the General the entire morning to no avail. The little candy president was furious with him after that little stunt he had pulled yesterday against her older sister. She was even angrier at her best friend of course, but she had no time to deal with the wrecker with the game day just about to start. She wanted to give the old man a piece of her mind before having her breakfast.
She stomped through a long pink and white hall with fancy paintings hanging on the walls, with various candy themed monarchs and aristocrats posing for whoever walked past them. She never bothered to know who those people were as she didn't care much for snobby looking people. They reminded her too much of the crummy Princess Council.
She marched off again with her red cheeks puffed up with barely contained fury. "I swear to Wonka that if I don't see your large mustached nose, my sister won't be the only feared boss in this kingdom!" she yelled again.
"Princess?" she suddenly heard from behind her. Whirling around she noticed her green majordomo, Sour Bill, coming out from a door.
"Sour puss! There you are!" she grinned mischievously at her always-unexpressive majordomo and advisor. "Have you seen General Tight Pants?" Her tiny hands were curled into fists and pressed against her hips.
The sour candy blinked boringly at her. "Yes your highness, the General left the castle early this morning with a few soldiers. He returned to his guard duties at Black Cola Castle's perimeter." He closed the door he had come out of quietly behind himself.
Vanellope groaned loudly. "So that means that I won't yell at him until the game day is over! Argh!" she kicked the ground and shoved her fists inside her hoodie's front pockets angrily.
"Sorry about the inconvenience, ma'am," he bowed and began to walk away to resume his castle keeper duties.
Just then, Vanellope felt a sudden spark of curiosity. "Sour Bill, what were you doing inside that room?" she looked at the door he had just closed with a cocked eyebrow. She had never noticed it before.
Sour Bill turned around and shrugged. "I was checking if your karts had been properly reset, madam president."
Vanellope arched both eyebrows in surprise. "My karts?" she said, emphasizing the plural.
"Of course ma'am, the royal White Marzipan kart too. It's in the garage next to your other much more colorful kart." He seemed more bored by every word that came out of his mouth.
"Garage?" the candy president echoed, walking to the door. "We have a garage in the castle?"
"Of course madam president. You really didn't think the throne room was actually the garage, did you?" he rolled his eyes largely as Vanellope entered the mysterious room.
"Sweet mother of monkey milk!" Vanellope gasped as she entered the 'garage'; it was a large white and golden room, with pedestals, shelves and mechanics' tools all over the walls and corners. Just as Sour Bill told her, the two karts that belonged to her were there, in the middle of the room over two ramped pedestals, the sugar sparkles of their body work glittering under the big lamp on the ceiling, making them look like recently baked treats.
The younger Von Schweetz gaped and walked inside, turning around on her heels to get a complete 360 look of the room. She felt incredibly dumb for not knowing this room even existed. "How long has this room been in the castle?" she marveled as she approached her trademark kart, the one she made with Ralph a year ago, smiling childishly as her hand absently rubbed her kart's chassis.
Sour Bill peaked inside the room curiously. "You mean, you have never actually visited the garage? That explains a lot," he commented sarcastically, earning a glare from Vanellope. "It has been here since before the upgrade, but it got bigger and more equipped since the royal kart was added back to the roaster- I mean roster."
Vanellope turned over to the white kart that was next to her favorite one and frowned. "I don't know why the program insists on bringing back that monstrosity every time I have it dumped in the junkyard." She walked to the aforementioned vehicle and glanced inside of it.
The young monarch wrinkled her nose as she looked at every fancy looking detail of it: a golden steering wheel with many other golden buttons that sparkled garishly on the perfectly polished marzipan surface of the kart. The seat was even covered with a golden chocolate leather, too soft for even her taste. She hated it whenever a player chose the crummy fancy vehicle, mostly little girls who loved to play with her in her Princess Avatar.
Every time that happened, she would order Sour Bill to throw the kart out into the junkyard, with hopes for it to get forever lost in there under so many destroyed other karts, but every time she did so, the kart would magically regenerate back to the castle. It was a sour reminder of her horrible life under the iron fist of Turbo and it refused to disappear.
"Piece of stinky rotten candy," she jumped inside and sat there, glaring at it with pure hatred. She wondered if there was a time, before Turbo perhaps, when she actually loved this kart.
"Maybe we should try to erase it from the code room, madam," Bill suddenly suggested from the door.
"Nah, the gamers won't like that…maybe I should have it painted in green or something," the corner of her mouth curled in resignation as she began to play with the buttons on the control panel.
"Madam President, please don't play with the kart before-"
Suddenly, the glove compartment sprung open and a framed picture fell on the floor face down. Vanellope blinked curiously at it. "What's this?"
Sour Bill gasped, while the young monarch picked the picture up in her hands and turned it over. She narrowed her eyes confusedly at what she saw.
It was a black and white picture of a young girl about the same age as Vanellope and the other Sugar Racers, but the young president didn't recognize the girl. She was someone she had never seen before in the game. The girl had long curly hair that reached her shoulders and seemed particularly fair in color, looking completely white but she imagined that it was probably because of how faded the picture was. The girl was also sporting a whitish old fashioned racing jump suit and was smiling brightly while holding what looked like the Sugar Rush Grand Prix Golden Cup. Oddly, she looked a lot like herself.
"Who is this?" she whispered in deep confusion. She then noticed some handwriting covered with dust on its far corner, and she quickly swept the dust away with her hand to reveal it.
'See you on the finish line! It's your turn now!'
That was it. No signature was left.
Suddenly the picture began to glow vibrantly in front of her, and the image of the little girl twisted and twirled like a storm. "What the-what's happening?!" she shouted to Sour Bill as a strong wind began to magically blow inside the room. Images began to play in the frame.
'But she promised me she was going to teach me how to drive!' the foggy images were in black and white, but Vanellope could see what looked like a much younger version of herself, wearing a puffy princess dress and glaring at someone who looked blurry.
'And she will keep her promise, princess. You just need to be patient,' someone said to her. It was a person wearing … armor? The voice sounded feminine though.
'But Tangerine!' she complained with a cute pout.
A gloved hand patted her head lovingly. 'You'll race young princess, don't worry.'
And then the image vanished and the picture returned to normal.
Vanellope breathed heavily as she stared at the picture in shock. Her heart was pounding against her chest, a dreadful sense of nostalgia had overwhelmed her deeply in her binary soul. Could this be a secret sneak peek of her backstory? She did recognize her younger self in that 'memory' but she didn't know who this 'Tangerine' person was, although her voice did sound very familiar, but the armor confused her. She had never seen someone in Sugar Rush wearing something like that…or had she?
She looked again at the picture in her lap and stared at the girl's face intensively; who was she and how was the memory of Vanellope's past linked to her?
With million questions forming in her head, Vanellope raised her hazel eyes and looked for Sour Bill, but the candy president found he was nowhere to be seen.
-0-0-0-
A sudden loud pounding caught Vanellope's attention. 'I'd know that sound anywhere…IT'S RALPH,' she shouted in her mind, a mixture of joy and anger sounding out in her thoughts. But still she hastily glitched her way through the halls like a pixelated blue flash, arriving at the doors to the castle in record time and opening one of them up with strength she didn't know she had.
What awaited her on the other side was nothing. The tiny president's face fell as she looked around, trying to spot her wrecking friend so she could either hug him or glitch-kick him in the head, but she saw nothing…Nothing except a little basket lying on the welcome mat.
Picking the basket up, Vanellope opened it to find a note and a bottle of root beer from Tapper's. Looking at the note, Vanellope could tell it was from Ralph. She knew his chicken scratch handwriting anywhere.
'Dear Vanellope,
I'm sorry I'm not apologizing to you in person, but I knew you'd want to come along if I told you what my plan is. I'm sorry for how I acted yesterday and I'm going to make it up to you, and more importantly I'm going to go make it up to your sister. By the time you read this, I'll probably already be at Black Cola Castle. Please don't try and follow.
Your loyal stinkbrain and numbskull,
Ralph
Vanellope read and reread the letter, her mind processing what was written on it. After soaking it in, she reached down, popped the bottle open and took a healthy swig of the fizzy soda, just as a hearty high pitched laugh began escaping her lips. "That son of a gum!" she crowed, cupping her hands around her mouth and shouting in Black Cola Castle's direction. "GO GET 'ER ADMIRAL UNDERPANTS! AND DON'T COME BACK 'TIL YA DO!"
-0-0-0-
The wrecker looked up at the tall doors of Black Cola Castle with a knot in his throat, gulping and mentally praying for everything to turn out fine. After dropping the note off at Vanellope's castle and beating a hasty retreat so Vanellope wouldn't try and come with him, he found himself before the ominous fortress. He wasn't sure if the Dark Queen would have mercy on him, but he had to at least try it. Last night had been awful for him, he couldn't understand how much she had affected him after such a short period of time. She had made him desperate and he didn't exactly know if he liked it or not. Anyway, he had to show her he wasn't as much of a jerk as he had demonstrated yesterday so, tentatively he knocked on the doors timidly.
Ralph waited for a few minutes until the doors began to crack open. Bonbon Lola looked up at him and her petite mouth turned into a relieved smile. "Sir Wreck-It! Vous avez renvoyé!" She opened the doors wide for him.
Ralph half smiled down at her. At least someone didn't seem as mad at him as he had expected. "Hi-hi Lola…It's good to see you," he greeted back nervously.
The pink majordomo pressed her lips together uncertainly and glanced inside briefly before returning to face him. "It is...are you...uhm...are you here to see the queen perhaps?" she questioned him in a whisper.
Ralph scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, his confidence already starting to chip away. "Yeah...uhm...I am," he said quietly. "That is uhm...if she'll still see me, I hope."
Lola sighed heavily. "Well...I'm not sure...I mean...to be honest with you Sir Wreck-It...I haven't been able to speak with her yet..." she confessed to him with a worried gleam in her eyes.
Ralph felt a lump form in his stomach at that information. "Is...is she alright?" he asked, trepidation creeping into his voice. He was starting to feel even more sick from all of the pain he must've caused her.
"I don't know," Lola fidgeted with her tiny candy hands. "Lady Razz was just about to check on her...she's been locked up inside the throne room since last night." She sniffed as her big pink eyes became even glossier with tiny tears forming at their corners.
"Locked in the throne room?" Ralph echoed, not sure he had heard right. 'Why in the name of Sega would they do that? I can't have messed up this badly, could I?'
"Yes..." her voice cracked. "She did it herself...Lady Razz and the rest have been guarding the gates since then...please Sir Ralph...I know you're the only one who can help her." She was begging as tears came streaming down her cheeks.
"I'm...I'm the only one who can help her?" he asked, pointing a thick finger at himself. "But Lola...why...how...What will I?" He was struggling to form a competent question, but his mind latched onto one thing: he could hopefully at least see Chocolette. But first he had to help Lola. He kneeled down to her eye level and brushed away her tears gently. "Calm down Lola…please…I'm…I'm sorry…this is my fault." He looked down, feeling completely awful at making the sweet castle keeper so altered.
Lola simply smiled warmly at him. "It's alright…you're here now…Please come in," she wiped her tears off and opened the doors wider for him. "You know ze way in."
Taking a deep breath, Ralph stepped forward into the palace again, his feet making a thud with every step he took. 'I have to do this...for Chocolette.'
The wrecker made his way through the halls of the castle, already familiar with its intricate black and white architecture. To his surprise, today the walls were black while the marbled floor was white. 'Uh? Wasn't it the other way around?' he wondered.
The closer he got to the throne room, the darker the castle turned, with the only light coming from the stained glass of the windows. The atmosphere was starting to irk him when a voice pierced his thoughts.
"Well, well, well, look who had just decided to grace us with his traitorous presence."
Ralph stopped sharply as he heard the dark voice. He glanced around him but only found darkness. "Razz?" he tried. Snickers answered him back.
He furrowed his brow and continued his trek with a much more cautious pace. He remembered the glares and curses the Sour Racers had given him after his outburst with Chocolette, and Razz's threat still echoed inside his head.
Reaching the end of the hall, Ralph crossed the archway and entered the room that lead to the throne chamber. The larger circular stained glass up on the ceiling illuminated the room much more than the rest of the castle and Ralph had to shield his eyes for a moment to adjust his vision under the new clarity.
He blinked after a few seconds and his eyes managed to catch six silhouettes blocking the path ahead. His frown deepened as his vision finally returned to normal. "Sours" he greeted lowly.
The six evil minions of the queen stood firmly in front of him, glaring daggers at the wrecker. Razz stood in the middle of all of them, with her arms crossed under her bust, looking defiantly back at him.
"Hello Wreck-It," Razz sneered at him. "I had a hunch you'd make the stupid decision of coming alone to come talk with her majesty." Her comrades chuckled evilly with her.
Ralph growled at her, the word 'alone' ringing the alarms in his head. Maybe he should have planned better, as he truly hadn't contemplated the notion of confronting the still very angered queen's minions frontally. His eyes scanned each one of them intensively, measuring his options. There were six of them and he was just one man, but his super strength still gave him the upper hand, both defensively and offensively. The problem was that he was not in his game, so apart from them knowing their platform better, any lethal wound inflicted on him could be fatal if he wasn't able to make it back to his game. But they weren't in their vehicles, so unless they were programed with some other kind of offensive/defensive program, they probably were just as harmless as the Sugar Racers.
"I don't have time for your games," he bailed his fists instinctively. "I'm here to speak with Chocolette." He tried to remain emotionless.
Bonbon Lola hurried to catch up with him in the room and she gasped upon realizing what was probably going to happen.
"Sours please-"
"DON'T YOU DARE SAY HER NAME!" Warhead suddenly yelled furiously, both of his neon green eyes were fully dilated as if he was out of his senses.
Ralph sweated bullets as the others growled.
"Do you think we'll let you talk with her after the nasty things you told her?!" Rocko growled with his sunglasses lowered.
"Why should we let you?!" Zoet showed some fangs at him.
"You already damaged her enough!" Zuur snarled after her sister.
"TRAITOR! TRAITOR" Franknerd pointed an accusatory finger at him, his eyes wide with madness.
The wrecker felt a pang of guilt suddenly hit him deep in his core as they scowled at him, and rightfully so. They all cared for their queen, it was clear to him now. Lola had been more understanding with him but they were giving him the hell he probably deserved. Razz just kept watching him with pure disdain and contempt as the rest kept yelling at him, their eyes now glowing with untamed coded fury.
"You're worse than rotten candy!"
"You sided with that snooty brat! YOU!"
"She who is our ENEMY!"
An oddly familiar feeling was beginning to rise up within Ralph. He was starting to recognize it. At first, it felt like his normal anger, but then he noticed how different it felt, more focused, sharpened to a razor's edge. He had felt it when he confronted Ganondorf and he had felt it last night when he had gripped Calhoun's arm. What merely began as Ralph shuffling about in awkward shame quickly turned into a roiling fire that seared Ralph's soul and was beginning to fight for control.
"You're a pathetic excuse for a villain!"
"You insulted her honor!"
"You don't deserve our queen!"
The fire in Ralph's soul was starting to build into an inferno. Every word aimed at him from the Sour Racers was stoking the blaze and he knew it wouldn't be long until it boiled over. But a part of his mind was gently urging him to accept the madness.
"You dare to judge her and accuse her!"
"Filthy piece of code!"
The blaze finally reached the proverbial powder magazine when Razz began saying, "Why is it that you're so devoted to that little goody goody twerp..."
"E-NOUGH!" Ralph's balled fists came down with a thunderous crack that shook Black Cola Castle to its very foundations. Lola was launched into the air only to land on a near pillow fortunately.
But the Sour Racers had gotten the worst of it, finding themselves toppled like they were bowling pins. When they finally gathered enough of their wits back, what they saw was nearly as frightening as Queen Chocolette herself.
Wreck-It Ralph was fuming, his nostrils flaring and his eyes lit with a fire they didn't think him possible of possessing.
When Ralph spoke, his voice was calm, low, and extremely menacing. "You guys think you have it so bad. You think that helping out the princess makes me less of a bad-guy. What you guys forget is that while you may be programmed as adults, you're still only a few days old. What you're also forgetting is that you all have each other to turn to when you have problems. I didn't have anyone to turn to for THIRTY. YEARS. Thirty years. Thirty years of being shunned like an outcast, turned away from any function of my own game outside of wrecking, made to feel like a criminal even when I went outside my game…"
He began to walk slowly towards them as he continued to speak darkly.
"…mocked, ridiculed, endlessly discriminated against, and all for what? Just because I was 'programmed' to be a bad-guy? You have no idea what that kind of loneliness does to your mind. And yet you all stand there and think you can lecture me? That "little goody goody twerp" was the first person to ever treat me like I was just another character, no better, no worse than any other. That "twerp" knew exactly how I felt because she had had her game stolen from her by a character who was originally acclaimed to be a good-guy...
"None of you knows what it's like to be repeatedly thrown off the top of a building only to land face first in a puddle of mud. You don't know what it's like to be laughed at because you're supposed to fail. Screamed at by players because you got a lucky shot in."
He stopped a foot away from them, their burning glares having been doused into looks of terror.
"I honestly don't care if you guys think me less of a bad-guy because I care about Vanellope. But remember this: I care about Chocolette just as much and maybe even more. I know I made a mistake. I've made a lot of mistakes and I'm probably going to keep making mistakes. But don't any of you DARE to ever think your lives have been harder than mine. You all get to live in a castle. I slept on a pile of bricks with a stump as my pillow. You get to have hot meals and treats. I was lucky if I got any scraps out of the garbage. Hard? You kids don't even know the meaning of the word..."
"Because if any of you even try to tell me otherwise, I promise you that is a mistake that you will come to regret." The look in his eyes was one of a calm madman, the kind who would sit back and smile as he watched the world burn. All six of the sour racers audibly gulped as they realized they had unleashed a new side of Wreck-It Ralph, a bad-guy that they had been ready to write off as having gone soft.
Silence engulfed the room. Lola covered her mouth as her eyes darted between the wrecker and the Sour Racers worryingly. Had she been designed with fingers and she would have probably chomped her fingernails by now. No one moved a muscle or said anything for what it seemed like an eternity.
Finally, Razz closed her eyes for a second as if thinking hard on what she was going to say. She opened them again with a dark smirk on her orange lips. "Alright," she simply said.
Warhead, Rocko, Franknerd and the twins turned over to her with surprised eyes. Ralph too went wide eyed, unclenching his fists and looking completely confused.
"But Razz!-" Warhead began but Razz cut him off with her hand raised.
"I'll check on her first to see if she wishes to see you or if she would like us to kick your sorry behind out of the castle." She turned on her heels and walked towards the doors behind her.
Ralph stood there watching with curiosity as Razz unzipped her black leather racing jacket and brought out a strange looking dagger, with golden and orange engravings, the handgrip had an orange jewel on its end. She took the weapon and inserted it inside the door's lock, turning it to the side with an echoing clank. Some of the doors' swirls and engravings glowed vibrantly orange and the door with the white dragon on it creaked open for her. She retrieved the dagger and hid it again inside her jacket.
"Lola, please come with me," she ordered lowly, glancing at the majordomo over her shoulder.
"Oui!" She immediately dashed to her side and walked with her inside the throne room, shutting the door closed behind her.
Ralph waited patiently for Razz to return, alone with the rest of the Sour Racers. Their glares were still present in their features but they seemed to have softened a bit. As they all remained awkwardly silent for a couple of minutes, Ralph noticed them glancing every once in a while at the doors behind them anxiously, as if expecting something. He arched a curious eyebrow but decided to say nothing. He knew that if he wanted to, he could easily throw them away and make his way through the doors easily, but he decided for once to trust in Razz's judgment and buy his time.
Almost 15 minutes later, the door cracked open again and Razz emerged from it. "The Queen has calmed down...she doesn't exactly want to see you but she said that you could come in. She is in her throne...Lola already reset it," she told him with a scolding frown and her arms crossed.
Ralph set his chin and stood upright, determined to make amends, though he couldn't help but wonder what kind of havoc Chocolette could have wrecked upon the throne room that would require it to be reset. The Sour Racers stepped aside and allowed him go, not without sparing him a few final menacing scowls of their own. He crossed the doors and almost jumped out of his skin as they closed loudly behind him. 'Pull it together Ralph! You are acting like a nervous nelly!' he scolded himself and cracked his neck to steel himself.
Very slowly and with uncertainty he entered the throne room, distracted while looking at the many dragon themes over all the decorations and stained glass windows. His eyes finally noticed the figure of the queen. She stood behind her black throne with her bared back facing him, dressed in her tight long sleeved black dress, the same dress she wore that day when he found her baking a pie. She didn't seem to have noticed him coming, as her eyes were fixated on a large covered painting that was hanging behind the throne.
Seeing her like this, so frail and distracted, his resolve began to break down. He felt terrible about how he treated her, knowing there was a time when he himself was treated just the same. Still he maintained what little stealth he could achieve. He bent down onto one knee and hung his head low, clearing his throat in order to attract her attention.
She snapped from her trance and slightly without turning completely, she glanced back at him over her shoulder. Her emerald eyes were as cold as ice.
Ralph took a deep breath. "I know I can't take back what I said. I know you probably don't wanna talk to me right now or probably ever again, and I wouldn't blame you. But I feel terrible about what I said and I am sorry. But I'm not here to apologize to make myself feel better. I…I don't want you thinking you're a monster. You're the most exceptional woman I've ever met or probably ever will meet and I treated you like a fool. I really am an idiot, but I want you to know that I care about you more than you probably think I do. Still, I am sorry, Dark Queen Chocolette Von Schweetz. I'll leave you alone now and never bother you again." Ralph stood up and turned to leave the way he came.
A few inches before he reached the two main doors, he finally heard her speak. "I don't... hate you...and I don't want you to go."
He turned around with his eyes wide, and he saw her completely facing him with her arms embracing her torso. Her eyes were cold but full of sadness. She looked down to the floor, avoiding his eyes.
A little spark of hope flared up in Ralph's chest while her somber words sent ripples through the pool of melancholy in his spirit. "You- you don't?" He took a tentative step towards her, measuring each footfall and breath he took.
She sighed deeply, she wanted to stay mad at him, she really REALLY wanted to, but for some reason still confusing her, it pained her more to be separated from him more than anything else. "...No...I…I don't want you to... leave me..." she said, barely audible in an unfamiliar tone to him, brushing her hands against her arms as if she was cold.
"I just...I was so...so jealous," she suddenly admitted to him with a frown.
"Jealous?" Ralph asked, taken off guard by that one. He was nearly upon her, his natural body heat radiating outwards and giving her some measure of comfort. "What were you jealous of?"
She kept frowning, refusing to look up at him. "Of her...you sided with her right away without even giving it a second thought...it was just so...so unfair!" she snarled with her teeth gritted. She was struggling to keep her fury from coming back again. "My sister just keeps snatching things away from me."
That last line confused him even more. "Vanellope?! You think-? Oh Chocolette..." He moved slowly forward with his arms spread in order to pull her close into a hug.
Chocolette flinched, not expecting to feel his strong arms embracing her but didn't seem reluctant of it, though she didn't return the hug. Her anger quelled upon feeling his warmth overwhelming her and she relaxed in his arms, burying her face into his strong chest. "...I know it sounds silly...but I couldn't help it..." she said apologetically, still hugging herself.
"Shhhh..." Ralph gently stroked her back, trying to soothe her. The feel of her enveloped in his arms made him feel complete again, like he was missing a piece of himself the past day. "I promise you my Queen, your sister is not going to snatch me away from you," he whispered into her ear.
Very slowly, she unglued her arms and started to hug him back. "...you promise?" she asked him against his chest while secretly enjoying the sound of his heartbeat and his soothing gestures.
"I promise Chocolette." He pulled her closer, gently and without the full force of his arms. "I've waited for a woman like you for thirty years. It'd take more than Vanellope, Felix, Calhoun and every character in this arcade to pry me away from you now." A relieved smile began to curl in the corner of his mouth.
Feeling a bit braver she finally decided to look up at him, her eyes were a bit warmer than before and a pleased smile graced her beautiful features. "Thank you...I'm sorry too...for what I said to you...I didn't mean it," she said with a blush and looking away in embarrassment. This was perhaps her very first time apologizing for something and it felt awkward to her bad-guy pride, but somehow being in his arms was enough for her evil program to shut up momentarily.
Ralph let out a sigh of relief and happiness, happy to have his queen back in his arms. "You don't have to apologize. I was the one acting like a royal numbskull." He kept her in his arms and smiled down at her, once again feeling whole.
She giggled slightly at that, feeling her spirits starting to return. She leaned further into him with a slight blush. "Still, I was not exactly on my best behavior. One thing is to snap at my racers and another is to snap at my...mate... I wanna make it up to you some how..." she pondered silently for a few seconds, and then an idea popped in her head. She smiled a rare girly smile at him "How about a pie?"
'Mate? That's a new one.' However, the term didn't displease him. It may not have been the most romantic title, but he saw it as progress. "A pie sounds great! One of your delicious apple pies again? And while we're at it, what can I do to make it up to you for being such a lunkhead?" he gave her a teasing lopsided grin and winked.
Chocolette half smiled and looked away shyly. She didn't know why she was still acting so out of character. Perhaps the previous discharge of so much 'bad' emotions had drained her. "I-I don't know," she admitted while playing with the only strap of his overalls. "I'm just happy you didn't leave me."
'That was pathetic! Come on girl! Snap out of it. Get back to your Queen mode,' she internally scolded herself.
"Like I said your highness... you're gonna have to work a LOT harder if you wanna get rid of me. I've spent thirty years landing on my head. They don't come much harder than mine," he joked, rapping a knuckle against his head. "Now come on, her royal darkness needs transport to the kitchen!" Ralph picked her up and seated her on his shoulder, letting her balance herself with an arm on top of his head. 'I don't care if we're bad-guys or not. I'm happy and I intend to stay that way.'
She yelped at his sudden move but soon chuckled once she recovered her balance. There was a strange liking towards him carrying her like that. She playfully ruffled his wild hair. "Alright, alright! You win! Now to the kitchen my evil knight!" she ordered with her index finger held in the air, finally sounding like herself again.
'Now that's the Chocolette I know and...' He kept that thought much quieter to himself, not wanting to jinx things. Still, he was happy to have her on his shoulder, much like he always did with Vanellope, but this felt much more... complete. On their way to the kitchen, they passed the Sour Racers, all of them staring wide-eyed and slack jawed at the fact that the two seemed to have made up. Only Bonbon Lola beamed at their passing, happy to see her Queen such good spirits again and with such a fine gentleman.
-0-0-0-
Boots clacked against the cold grey pavement as four figures walked down a dark and humid corridor. Their pace was hurried but decisive, already familiar with the path they were currently walking. They turned a few corners and climbed a long staircase that was barely illuminated by torches perched on the walls, their shadows growing under the dim source of light. Reaching the top, they knocked on a pair of large twin black doors, which immediately opened for them after the third knock. They walked inside, much slower this time, and approached a tall tanned man whose caped back was facing them, his eyes fixated on something in front of him.
The four figures stood a few inches away from him and bowed their heads to him, their faces finally revealed under the tall gothic chandelier that hung above them. Wario, Meta Knight, King Dedede, and Wolf O'Donnell raised their heads right after.
"Lord Ganondorf, we have returned with news. As you predicted, the rumor has finally reached the Council's ears," Wolf spoke with a sinister smirk. "The Plumber seemed agitated."
Ganondorf glanced slightly over his shoulder and grinned knowingly at them. "Is that so?" he chuckled with sarcasm.
"And the princesses! Oh I don't think they'll sleep much tonight. They don't want the rumors to spread," Wario snickered with fun.
"What's the next step, Lord Ganondorf?" Meta Knight questioned lowly.
Ganondorf chuckled evilly, his yellow eyes returning to focus on what was in front of him. "We shall wait gentlemen…I have everything I need for now. If all goes according to the plan, then the oh-so-rightfully-and-lawfully-good Council is about to commit one of their biggest mistakes ever. We just need a tiny shock to set the time bomb ticking."
He walked a few steps ahead of them, a green glow reflected on his clothes and skin. There was someone in front him, a kneeled man who seemed out cold, completely immobilized with many wires like chains wrapped around each one of his limbs, pulsing and glowing green intermittently. The man glitched a few times as a much thicker wire sucked something from his chest, glowing more than the rest of the wires. The wires were connected to a strange translucent floating red box behind him.
"Dr. Wily, are you finished?" Ganondorf suddenly asked loudly with a grin.
The infamous doctor of the Mega Man games walked out from the shadows with a holographic clipboard. "Yes my lord, it seems that I've effectively copied his code and I'm ready to proceed with programing the firewall you've requested." His mustached face grinned back behind the glowing clipboard.
"Excellent," his chuckle resonated all over the castle. "For once, your sacrifice has served me well…boy"
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