Thank you for the reviews so far! I'm glad I'm entertaining people with my story.
Chapter 2: The Break-In
The arcade was always closed on Sundays, but Mr. Litwak had gotten up at 8 o'clock sharp to accept the delivery of his new game cabinet. He had been hesitant about ordering it at first, but kids kept asking if he was getting a new racing game. After 10 years, what could be the harm? Certainly the same thing wouldn't happen again; he was getting paranoid in his old age. So once the game was plugged in, he locked up and left.
The Surge Protector stood in front of the new portal, which was now labeled "Sugar Rush". He paused writing in his notepad to glance around him. When he was sure nobody was looking, he quickly went over to the wall and whipped out his spray can and a stencil. "I haven't done Turbo in a while," he said to himself, placing the Turbo stencil on the wall and spraying paint over it.
"I don't look like that!"
"Who's there?" Surge demanded, hiding the art supplies behind his back.
In the archway of the outlet sat a large wooden crate with a blue bow on it, but there was nobody in sight.
Surge walked over to it and picked up the note that was stuck to the top. "'Dear Surge Protector,'" he read, "'Please make sure this welcome present gets to Sugar Rush at once. Do not look inside. Signed, Anonymous.'" The Surge Protector shrugged and tried to push the box towards the portal. For some reason, it was pretty heavy, but he managed to get it into one of the train's empty cars.
The train, which was a traditional locomotive made out of hard candy, ran through the wire until it stopped in front of a rainbow-coloured bridge that was overlooking the land of Sugar Rush. At once, the box lid was pushed off and Turbo lifted himself out with a gasp.
"Ugh, why did I forget to put air holes?" he groaned. Still, he was happy his plan had worked. He had been fortunate enough to find an old crate in the recycling station that was big enough for himself and the Turbomobile, which he had no intention of leaving behind.
Turbo got out, grabbed the front side of the box and tore it down, and then dragged his racecar out of the train. He dumped the rest of the evidence off the bridge and into the ravine.
"All right," Turbo said, brushing his hands and turning around, "now to see what I'm up against." He took in his surroundings. The sky was programmed to be eternal daylight and faint annoying J-pop music was playing from the game's speakers. There was a constant aroma of something sweet, but Turbo couldn't place his finger on what it was. That is, until he got a good look at everything and saw it was made entirely out of candy and sweets. "Turbo-tastic to the max!" he exclaimed, grinning in delight. At least he could never go hungry here.
Something caught his eye in the center of the world: a castle. That meant royalty, which meant the leader (and best racer) of the game. In all likelihood, the entrance to the secret code room would be there as well. That would be the best place to start. Turbo started to push his car down the bridge and on the path that led to the castle.
(20 minutes later)
He wasn't even halfway there when he lost energy. "Why…hoo…would they make it so far?" he panted, collapsing. Figuring he could take a short break, Turbo grabbed as many sugary treats from around him as he could carry and sat beside his car to gorge. As he did, he gazed at the brightly-coloured landscape. The more he thought about it, the more he was getting a strange feeling about the whole place.
He heard a noise growing louder: engines, a sound he would recognize anywhere. He peered over the edge of the bridge and saw a group of racers driving on a track nearby. Even their freaking karts were made out of candy! He continued to study them and noticed something even more disturbing: they were all little girls.
"Wh—b—girls can't race cars!" Turbo stammered incredulously (remember, he's from the 80s). "They're not even legal age! To drive, I mean." All of a sudden, he came to a shocking realization.
The female characters…
The whole world made of candy, most of which was pink…
The ear-grating J-pop song…
"Oh my Mod…" Turbo's eyes widened in horror. "It's a girl's game!"
After a moment of slapping his face and cursing his luck, he simply sat down against his car with his head in his knees, trying to figure out his next move. There was no way he could go back now without getting caught. But if he stayed, he'd be forced to play with little girls. Annoying, immature girls. He used to like kids, until they up and abandoned him for a newer game, causing him to grow a deep-seeded resentment for them.
His thoughts were jolted out of him when he heard a loud blast coming from the track.
"Ha! Take that!" exclaimed a voice in the distance.
Turbo looked over at the racers again and saw that one girl's kart—a completely pink one—had some kind of missile launcher attached to the hood. She fired another rocket at a kart in front of her, which got thrown into the air in a mini explosion. Just as he was wondering how that was accomplished, another racer drove over a floating box on the road and her car suddenly had a giant ice cream cone. She launched the scoop behind her, which struck someone else and caused them to spin out.
Turbo rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "So…the little brats get to use weapons, do they? Maybe this won't be so bad after all." He particularly couldn't wait to try out the missiles. With new determination, he got up, put the leftover candy in his pockets, and continued to push his car towards the castle.
As he made his way there, he thought about what he should say to get the characters to invite him in without raising any suspicions. He hated to brag—no, of course he loved to brag—but he was a pretty good liar. But before Turbo could come up with something convincing, he halted near the entrance when he saw a dozen Oreo guards marching in front of the doors.
"Oreo, Oreeeee-o. Oreo, Oreeeee-o," they chanted.
It didn't seem like they had noticed him. Maybe they would just let him pass. He decided to take his chances and walked up to them.
"Oreo, Oreee—" The guards stopped and stared at him.
Turbo froze and smiled meekly. "Don't mind me." He slowly went up to the door and knocked, keeping his eyes on the cookies who were still watching him silently.
After a few seconds, it opened…but no one was there.
"…Uh, hellooo?" Turbo called.
There was a sigh, then a voice replied dryly, "Down here."
Turbo looked at his feet and saw a small, green ball with droopy eyelids and floating hands and feet. Sheesh, Turbo thought, you'd think he gets this a lot, but I've got to be the first visitor here. He figured it must've been in his programming.
"And you are?" the ball asked slowly.
Turbo straightened up. "I'm Turbo, from the epically-named…Turbo Time," he proudly stated while giving his trademark thumbs-up.
"Never heard of it."
"Oh." Since the little guy had no way of knowing about his game, he decided to bend the truth a bit, just for fun. "Well, it was an amazing game where I had to race against these two—no wait, SIX blue and white robots! And they used bombs. And uh…there were pterodactyls at some point…" Turbo trailed off, starting to think that sounded ridiculous. "It was kind of obscure."
The candy's expression didn't change. "Grand Opening's tomorrow."
The Oreo guards suddenly pointed their spears at Turbo, who responded with a gulp. "Wait! That's not why I'm here!" he hurriedly explained, and relaxed when the weapons were lowered somewhat. He improvised, "I'm from the Arcade Committee. They sent me down to, uh, tell your leader about the rules and regulations of the arcade."
"Do you have any references?"
Turbo claimed, "References will be available upon request."
The green ball continued to stare dully at him. "…Fine," he grumbled reluctantly and let him in. The guards resumed their patrol and chanting, which faded once the door was shut.
Turbo followed the round candy through the hallways in the castle, past several guards and servants. Turbo could barely contain his excitement. Soon this would all be his! It wasn't long until they reached a set of large doors where the ball knocked.
"Come in!" came a sugary reply.
Turbo followed the ball through the doors and saw a young girl a bit shorter than him in a pink, poofy dress inspecting a white racing kart, which doubled as a throne.
The green ball kneeled and he introduced monotonously, "May I present Princess Vanellope Von Schweetz."
Vanellope grinned and waved the scepter she was holding. "Welcome, visitor!"
Forgetting his fake manners, Turbo just stared, mouth gaping in disbelief. "Y-you're a child! How can you be the leader? Granted, the other racers are kids too, but shouldn't you be… I don't know, old enough to rule an entire kingdom?"
The princess giggled. "It's a video game, silly! Things don't have to make sense. Besides, I'm ruler because I'm the best racer in this game!"
"You race in that thing?" Turbo scoffed with a nod to her impractical dress. This caused her to laugh again, much to his growing annoyance.
"You're funny," said Vanellope. "Of course not." Her body flickered with blue pixels and she suddenly appeared closer to him, wearing a white racing suit with green stripes on the sleeves. "This is my racing outfit."
Turbo raised an eyebrow in surprise. "How did…?" He glanced at the spot on the floor where the girl had been standing only a second ago. "Wha…?"
"It's my special ability," the princess explained, amused by his expression. "Lots of us racers have one. Mine's the power to teleport!" She demonstrated again by appearing right beside her throne, wearing her dress. "But only short distances." She smiled and asked elegantly, "Tell me, what are thy deeds?"
Turbo blinked, dumbfounded. "Huh?"
"Whaddya want?" she rephrased impatiently.
The small green servant spoke up, "Please, Princess. Let the creepy stranger do his job."
"That's right, I'm Turbo. I represent the Arcade Committee," Turbo informed her. "I just need to do a standard lecture on how to behave in the arcade, make sure your castle's up to par, get a snack… You know, the usual stuff."
"Oh, sure." Vanellope nodded, then stared at him with narrowed brows. "I don't mean to sound rude, but what are you supposed to be?"
"…Excuse me?"
"Like, I can tell you're a racer by your helmet and tight pants, but are you some kind of zombie or vampire?"
Turbo stammered, taken aback, "Wh—no! Of course not!" He saw the startled look on Vanellope's face and he added gently, "I mean, no. I am a human."
The girl tilted her head quizzically. "Then why are your eyes and teeth so freakishly—I mean, why are they so yellow?"
Turbo sighed. Were they seriously gonna have this conversation now? Since she wasn't going to be around much longer, he saw no reason to hide his self-consciousness. "You want my best guess?" he started grimly. "I was probably designed by some bald, 30-year-old man with premature wrinkles and a serious smoking addiction, who drank a lot of beer. And never saw the sun."
Vanellope raised a quizzical eyebrow. "Wait…bald?"
The white racer froze. Had he really blurted that out loud? Oh sh—
"Pfft-AHAHAHAHAHA!" Vanellope howled, rolling on the floor.
Turbo crossed his arms, keeping his icy glare on the princess. You won't be laughing once your pretty locks get snagged on something and rip your head off at 200 miles an hour… He chuckled internally at that mental image.
Vanellope calmed down. "Ah…sorry, I know I shouldn't laugh. I guess I was expecting you to have a Mohawk or something."
Turbo rolled his eyes. "Why would they bother programming hair when I'm never supposed to take off my helmet?"
"Speaking of that, what game did you say you are from?"
"Well, I was from Turbo Time," he sighed, feigning sadness. "But unfortunately, it was unplugged after some jealous nutjob character from another game crashed it."
Vanellope frowned sympathetically. "Aw, you poor thing… So are you now—oh what's the word?" She twirled her scepter in circles as she looked up thoughtfully. "A hobo?"
Turbo fought the urge to run up and strangle her. How dare she associate him with those lowlifes! Even if it was kinda true. Instead, he said between clenched teeth, "I prefer to be called 'temporarily out of residence'."
Just then, two donut-shaped characters that looked like cops entered the room. "Excuse us, Princess," the tall one said with a bow. "We were taking the C.L.A.W. truck out for a test drive and when we got back, we accidentally ran into a shabby-looking car parked right in front of the entrance and were wondering if you knew anything about it."
"Wynchel was driving," the round donut quickly accused.
"I was not!" the other protested, whirling on his comrade.
Before the argument could escalade, Vanellope waved her scepter to calm them and said, "Now, now, accidents happen. No need to get your Twizzlers in a knot. What did the car look like?"
The circular cop reached behind the door and pulled a wagon inside the room. Both donuts tipped it over, dumping a totaled red and white racecar on the floor.
At once, Turbo clutched his helmet and gasped in horror. "MY CAR! NOOOOOOO!" He fell to his knees and sobbed over his treasured vehicle, which was even worse than before. He should've known better than to leave it alone and unsupervised in this crazy world! "Nononononono whyyyyyyyyy?"
"Whoa, calm down!" Vanellope told him, gently shaking his shoulder. She turned to the donuts. "Please bring it into the garage and see what the mechanics can do to fix it."
They bowed and lifted Turbo's car back into the wagon. Then they left the room, with a couple of odd glances at the bawling stranger.
Turbo's crying eventually subsided and he wiped away the tears. "Oh well. We had a good run," he sniffed.
"Why don't you just get a new one?" Vanellope suggested.
Turbo firmly shook his head. "No car can replace the Turbomobile." Except yours, that is.
Vanellope looked like she was trying not to snicker. "Er…Turbomobile?"
"You got a problem with that?" he challenged, though he was too depressed to shoot her a glare.
The princess quickly shook her head. "No, it's not that, it's just… Well, I've never seen anyone so obsessed with their car."
Turbo stood up and faced Vanellope with pride. "The Turbomobile is not just a car. She is a precision instrument of speed and aerodynamics." He glanced away wistfully. "We've been through a lot together…"
Vanellope smiled compassionately. "I hope I can have a bond like that with my car one day."
Sour Bill reminded, "Don't forget, Princess. You have to practice for the Random Roster Race."
Vanellope bounced eagerly. "Oh yeah! I almost forgot!" She sprint-teleported to her kart, transforming into her racing suit halfway there, and hopped inside it. She snapped her goggles over her anime eyes and started her engine. "Sour Bill, please assist our guest with whatever he needs." She drove down the steps and as she passed Turbo she told him, "If you're gone by the time I get back, I'll see you tomorrow at the Grand Opening. You are going to be there, aren't ya?"
Turbo rubbed his hands together sneakily. "Oh, I'll be there all right…"
Not catching the mischievous tone in his voice, Vanellope sped through the open doors and down the hall.
A lopsided smirk crept up on Turbo's face. Everything was going according to plan. Well, aside from his car getting wrecked again, but he was now focused on the progress he was making. And the best part was that nobody suspected a thing.
"So what are you gonna do first?" Sour Bill asked.
Turbo slowly turned his head to the diminutive servant with a creepy grin.
Someone explain to me my fangirl obsession… Seriously though, I think there may be something wrong with me.
Ahem. Please review.