Author's Note: Just to let you guys know, I'm writing this from a pre-So the Drama perspective. It's not that I don't like romance, I just don't want to write about it. It would be harder for me to write it in and I would feel uncomfortable doing so. So in this story, Kim and Ron are still 'just friends'.

Kim blinked. She couldn't hear anything, nor could she see anything. Her vision was completely white. After about ten seconds, she became faintly aware of the roar of engines, and some men yelling. These sounds became more and more distinct, and as soon as her vision began to clear, she took stock of her surroundings.

Kim was sitting in a flying vehicle of some kind. It was probably a troop transport, as she was strapped in a seat against one of the inside walls of the aircraft. The rear of the aircraft was open to the air, and she could see glassy blue water as she rushed passed it.

Kim looked down at her body. She was holding some sort of weird rifle and was wearing a helmet and a suit of full-body armor—dark green armor. Blech. The entire suit just screamed tacky, and the color was so off.

She glanced at the men sitting around her. There were seven of them, all carrying similar rifles. Their armor was different from hers—not nearly as heavy, but still pretty tacky. And green.

A cool female voice sounded in her ears. "ETA is five minutes, Chief. Foehammer says the LZ is hot. She's tracking lots of movement, definitely Covenant."

"..." Kim had no idea what was going on.

"Chief? You all right?"

Kim was unsure of where she was, what she was doing, or why this voice had referred to her as "Chief," but for now she decided to play along. She figured she was trapped in some sort of computer simulation Drakken had concocted to distract her while he unleased another take-over-the-world plot involving the Pan Dimensional Vortex Inducer. Or at least, that was her best guess.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Kim lied.

Ron found himself wandering around in an old city, and he figured this was sometime in the early to mid-20th century. 'Well, that's my best guess,' he thought to himself. Had he actually paid attention during history class when they were studying that time period, he might have known for sure.

Ron studied his surroundings. The ground was icy and snowy, so he guessed he must be up north—Russia, or maybe Norway. Most of the buildings were wrecked, and there were no signs of life. Ron had caught a glimpse of an old tank, so he guessed this must be a warz—

BAM! Ron yelped as a mortar explosion went off fifteen feet to his right, kicking up dirt and shattering the fragile peace of the ruined city. BAM! Another one, this one coming from behind him. Ron literally jumped five feet in the air and took off running.

Ron ran into a group of soldiers—later he would describe them as "old-timey"— wearing old uniforms and carrying old rifles. They pointed and yelled at him in a language he didn't understand.

It took him a moment to recognize the insignia on their uniforms, and when he did he realized they were German soldiers of World War II.

He took off running again, not wanting to sit down and have a chat with a team of Nazi soldiers, especially considering Ron was Jewish. Amid the ensuing chaos that was emerging as he ran, he began to wonder how he had traveled back in time, and wondered even more why the concept seemed so familiar to him.

Drakken couldn't move. He was frozen in place. His eyes could move, of course (it seems that when a cartoon character gets frozen in anything, from ice to zero-point energy, their eyes can still move), thus allowing him to look around and see the sights around him, and observe his own body.

He was trapped in some sort of green crystal. Moreover, he seemed to have taken the body of a great blue dragon, and this crystal-encased body of his was perched atop a flat blue platform, which in turn was lying in a field of grass. All around, there were strange creature guarding him: little green humanoids encased in metal armor, bigger, more warty, unarmored versions of the same, and a few other strange, fantastic creatures. In fact, they sort of reminded Drakken of a video game he had once played...

Drakken became distracted from this train of thought when an itch began to grow in his rear. He began praying that he wouldn't remain trapped in this crystal prison for much longer.

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

That's all Kim had heard for the past five minutes. Well, except for the whine of plasma fire, the roars of the strange, tall (and creepy) monsters she was fighting, and the yells of the human soldiers as they fell in battle. (Abstractly, Kim wondered to herself why most of the men she had ever met were so ferociously poor in combat.) Plus, there was also that cool, feminine voice that kept telling her what to do.

Plus she thought she heard Wade trying to get into contact with her.

"Ki—can yo—hea—me!"

Yep, that was Wade. Apparently he wasn't getting through very well. Either that or simulated Wade wasn't getting through very well.

Kim leaned around a tree she was hiding behind and fired off a few rounds from fer rifle before quickly ducking behind it once again, a scorching hot bolt of plasma streaking past her head. She was a little surprised she was actually using the gun she was carrying. She'd never actually fired a gun in her life before, although these creatures she was fighting were much tougher, stronger, and dangerous than anything she'd ever fought. Plus they had those energy shields...

Kim wondered to herself with a smile why she felt more comfortable when guns were pointed at her than when she was actually wielding one herself. It seemed entirely counter-intuitive, but then again she was Kim Possible. She could do anything, including go completely against logic.

She snapped out of her trance when she heard a throaty growl just to her left.

"...and now I'm in a completely different location."

Ron was no longer in Stalingrad during World War II. Now he was in a futuristic-looking hangar, or an undeground warehouse. The walls were covered in hard, textured steel, and the metal doors whizzed open as he approached them. He walked past a ruined electric panel, and the sparks flying from the ripped and partially melted wires caught his attention. The metal around the panel appeared to be melted, as if hit by plasma or laser fire. Ron guessed that if he was going time traveling, he was now in the far future.

He had been running through a warzone, dodging German and Russian soldiers, when there was a flash of white light, and now he was here. Ron observed that he was dressed in light battle armor and was carrying some sort of energy rifle. He had been wandering though this complex for a short while now, and every now and then he heard sounds of fighting: grunts, yelling, and laser fire. Familiar sounds to him. So far he had managed to avoid getting into any trouble himself.

He snuck quietly along, quiet as a mouse, when all of the sudden—

BLUE TEAM HAS THE FLAG

A loud, deep male voice rang through the halls. It almost felt like Ron has stumbled into some strange sporting event.

RED TEAM FLAG RETURN

"Wow, okay, that was pretty loud," thought Ron out loud. He had just resumed padding as silently as he could down the halls (which, by the way, isn't all that silent) when—

KILLING SPREE

"'Killing spree'? What is this, some kind of sick dream that Shego—"

DOUBLE KILL

"This is getting a little too over the top—"

MULTI-KILL

"Yes, this is completely redic—"

ULTRA KILL

"Could you please sh—"

MA-MA-MA-MA-MA-MA-MONSTER KILL

"OKAY OKAY WE GET IT NOW!!" By now Ron was screaming.

Silence.

GODLIKE

Ron smacked his forehead with his palm.

After a short while, Drakken was finally released from his crystalline prison. A purple dragon, very young judging from its size, which was being followed constantly by a golden dragonfly (it had a familiar quality Drakken couldn't seem to place; it was almost rodent-like), galloped up to him after dispatching the guard creatures with a playful series of charges using the horns on his head and quick bursts of flame from his mouth. It stepped on the blue platform Drakken was sitting on and all at once the crystal encasing his body seemed a lot less tough and hard. Making use of his newfound draconic strength, Drakken was able to burst out of the glassy cage, resulting in a flash of bright light that temporarily blinded him. After blinking a few times, Drakken looked at his rescuer.

After an awkward pause, the young purple dragon spoke in an adolescent, male voice. "Aren't you going to say something? Like a thank-you, or perhaps some advice?"

Drakken blinked. "Advice? Ah—um—hmm. Stay in school, and don't mess around with drugs!"

Then there was another flash of light and Drakken found himself in a completely different location.

After a few minutes of sneaking around and listening to the (annoyingly loud) announcer's voice, Ron had figured out that he was playing a futuristic version of capture the flag—just like the kind of capture the flag he'd played at school, except in this case everyone has guns. (Although if you think about it, this wasn't all that different from any of Kim's missions, which usually involve infiltrating some sort of base or lair, fighting guards armed with guns or lasers, and instead of getting a flag and bringing it back to a base, they're trying to return a dangerous device or a top-secret government project to its owner).

Ron had also figured out that, judging from the color of the emblems on his armor, he was on the red team. The slowly pulsating sapphire lights affixed to the wall indicated that he was in or near the blue team's base, so he was not surprised when he walked directly into the blue team's flag room.

"Ooo, it's unguarded too," he said, giggled with childlike glee. Images of an extremely muscular version of himself standing atop a pile of rubble waving the blue flag, complete with lightning in the background and a dramatic spotlight illuminating his face, flashed though his mind. "Booyah," he said with a smile.

Naturally, Ron is exactly the type of person to walk straight into an ambush site without so much as a suspicious look around the room, so it was to be expected that he walked straight up to the elevated platform in the center of the room and grabbed the flag. (He even posed with it once he reached it.)

And of course, the blue team had set up an ambush, and can you guess who or what it was that was lying in wait?

When he had grabbed the flag and finished his dramatic poses, Ron heard an echoing, inhuman shriek, and his blood ran cold.

"Wait a sec, that almost sounded like a..."

Yup, you guessed it. A monkey.

Out from the shadows and from behind a battered steel crate in a dark corner of the illuminated flag room walked a six-foot-tall, armored chimpanzee (okay, technically not a monkey) with blue insignia on its armor carrying a vicious-looking energy rifle.

"Uh-oh..." Ron's eyes grew wide as the chimp fired.

Ron doubled over and hit the ground hard. He saw red. Then blue. Then white. Then a whole bunch of colors he didn't care to discern. Then red again, and things began to swirl. Then he felt his feet touch the ground. His vision cleared and he was in the red team's base.

All thoughts of personal glory shifted to getting revenge on this armored chimp. "Stupid plasma gun-wielding monkey."