This chapter was RPed out between Jac Bandit and me. That means there are OC characters present in this chapter. If you don't like OCs, then just ignore this chapter…but you'll be missing out on some funny stuff.

DISCLAIMER: Mallow McSmorely and Jacks Mapleman do not belong to me. They are the property of Jac Bandit. They're just joining in on the sugary carnage that is this story.

WARNING! Loogie usage in effect beyond this point. END WARNING!

If you want to see more of Mallow and Jacks, head over to my Sugar Rush forum here. The link to my forums is in my profile. More about Pepper, our lovely narrator, is also included there.

Hope you like it! Enjoy!

Victim 9: Syruped and Sprinkled

Under most circumstances, there would only be fifteen racers for Turbo to snack on. Sadly, he gets a bigger meal thanks to all the updates added to Sugar Rush. New characters—like myself—have appeared to join the cast.

And, in this case, the menu…

My next victims of stalking are two such new characters. One is the overly shy and extremely gullible Jacks Mapleman. The other is mister-crash-test-dummy Mallow McSmorely.

How ironic that Turbo has a craving for marshmallows currently…

.o.o.o.o.

Two boys walked between the candy cane trees, staying side by side.

One had curly brown hair, green eyes hidden behind round glasses, and chestnut-colored skin. He wore a dark brown long-sleeved shirt that seemed too long for his arms and had two forks crossing each other diagonally on the back, golden-brown pants and shoes. He also wore a yellow beret on his head that resembled a piece of butter.

His name was Jacks Mapleman.

The other had pure white hair messy hair, a light skin tone, and big blue eyes. He wore a white jacket flight jacket, a pair of white-rimmed goggles around his neck, white pants with brown stripes around the ankles and knees, and brown shoes. His clothes looked ripped and he looked a bit scratched.

His name was Mallow McSmorely.

Mallow twitched lightly as he walked around nervously. Jacks had been walking right next to him, both boys twitching and looking around nervously.

"M-Mallow, w-w-we gotta hide somewhere..." Jacks mumbled.

"Hide? We're in the candy cane forest. This is hiding," Mallow told him in a hushed tone. "But I've got it all figured out. If we can get out of here and get to Game Central Station, we can get help. So swallow your fear and keep walking."

Jacks thought this hair-brained scheme was doomed to fail. It just seemed too easy when put together like that. But Jacks nodded. That was a good idea.

If they could make it...

"M-M-Mallow, what if we...? What if—"

"Don't say stuff like that!" hissed Mallow, his demeanor dropped. "And I want you to know something, Jacks. No matter what happens, run and never look back."

"B-but what if something—"

Jacks didn't get to finish.

"What? Happens to me? Nothing bad ever happens to me," Mallow said confidently.

.o.o.o.o.

Unknown to them, Turbo lurked nearby. His craving for marshmallows led him to follow the scent of smores. To be precise, the scent of a certain smore-themed racer.

Not that the scent of pancakes was deterring him. The cybrid was quite in the mood for any sugary treat...though he might need to hunt down a pool of syrup to dunk the pancake-themed brat in, just for giggles.

Despite his massive size, he managed to stay strangely quiet. Lurking through this forest since his deletion at Diet Cola Mountain had given him a keen sense of stealth. He knew this place inside and out.

Now he just had to lure his prey into a trap...or just snatch them up. That might be necessary, knowing Mallow.

Turbo crept among the trees, lured by the scent of marshmallows. Lugging his massive frame into the candy cane trees, he darted quickly among the branches until he caught sight of what he wanted-two racers, smelling of smores and pancakes. Mallow McSmorely and Jacks Mapleman. The cybrid licked his lips, suddenly starving again.

Funny thing about being fused with a virus—you never really got full when you ate.

.o.o.o.o.

Jacks flinched as he looked left and right, like a jittery squirrel.

"Relax, Jacks. We're way too deep in the forest. If Turbo even tried to walk up to us, we would have heard him snapping on peppermint twigs." Mallow assured.

"I-I guess..." Jacks mumbled, the pancake-themed racer not too sure.

.o.o.o.o.

Turbo grinned, sharp yellow teeth bared. Silly, silly Mallow! Did he really think Turbo was stupid enough not to be careful while hunting? He wasn't the greatest for nothing!

...Okay, so he was supposed to be the greatest racer but hey! That didn't mean he couldn't be the greatest hunter the arcade had ever seen, too.

He leaned down on the branch, ensuring he was directly above the path the two wayward racers were on. He flicked his twin tails like an overgrown cat and stretched out, relaxing. That didn't make him look any less intimidating. Resting his chin on his folded claws, he sang a little song that popped into his head.

"One, two, three, four! I've been hungry for a smore!"

Both racers stopped as they slowly turned around and looked at Turbo. Jacks looked ready to scream but no sound came out. Mallow looked just as scared.

"Oh, would you like me to fetch you one?" Mallow asked shakily, his hand digging into his pocket slowly. "Jacks and I can get you one."

Turbo ignored their offer, lowering a clawed hand to take an experimental swipe at them. He was eager to see how scared they really were of him. It was fun to see the traitorous brats jump and scream in his presence.

"Five, six, seven, eight! Would you mind being cybrid bait?" he sang merrily.

Jacks finally found his scream as Mallow pulled something out. It looked like a peppermint-colored slingshot.

"Nine, ten, eleven, twelve! A Fireball is just as swell!" Mallow shouted, shooting a Fireball on his slingshot at Turbo's eye.

"GAAAH!" the cybrid shrieked.

Turbo reeled back, rubbing at his eye to clear out the burning of it getting hit with the Fireball. The branch creaked ominously before breaking, sending the cybrid crashing to the ground in front of them. He writhed, insect legs kicking out as he struggled to get the burning to cease.

"You brat! How dare you?!" he snarled angrily, attempting to right himself from his upside-down position.

"I'm Mallow McSmorely! Why else?!" Mallow laughed obnoxiously loud.

Both racers began to run. Jacks, however, took a sharp left while Mallow went right. Jacks looked over his shoulder but Mallow gave him a sharp look as he kept running in the opposite direction. Jacks gulped as he kept running.

"Catch me if ya can, Turbo-Loser!" Mallow called.

Turbo finally managed to flip over, burning eye squeezed shut to lessen the pain and stop it from watering. He tore after Mallow, completely forgetting about Jacks' existence for the moment. He wanted to catch the brat that dared to fling a Fireball in his eye!

It wasn't hard to catch up to Mallow. The kid had two short legs to run on. Turbo had four powerful insect legs and two long arms to snatch with. Once he caught up, he bounded over the boy and drove his insect legs deep into the chocolate ground to stop himself. He whipped around and bared his teeth at the brat, lone eye glaring angrily at him.

"You have a lot of nerve," he warned. "I think smores will go good with the cinnamon bun I just ate. Let's not forget the snow cone either!"

"Cinnamon... Y-y-you ate… YOU ATE CRUMBELINA AND SNOWANNA?!" Mallow asked, horrified as he nearly fell over his two feet. He tried to steel his nerves. "Y-you over-eating freak! I hope you get diabetes from eating all of us!" he spat.

"Oh, I've eaten plenty of you brats recently. I had the glitch, some cake and taffy, a lollipop, some butterscotch candy, an apple mint, a cinnamon bun, and a snow cone," Turbo said, ticking off the sweets on his claws. "I also have some more taffy and some frozen yogurt hidden away for later."

Then he grinned maliciously, leaning closer to Mallow.

"Did I mention I had cake? Little bugger burned my throat with that candle on the way down...but she tasted turbo-tastic!" he commented cruelly.

Tears ejected themselves from Mallow's eyes as he scowled at Turbo. "You're a disgusting excuse for code! And you're a sucky racer!" spouted Mallow, spitting at the cy-bug/racer hybrid.

Turbo backed up a step, dodging the spit. He smirked. "Oh, that's right! You had a crush on the cake racer!" he remembered. "What was her name? Uh... Cakesmear? No... Candle-something or other, I think. I can't be bothered to remember. It's not like she was important or anything..."

"Yes, she was!" Mallow cried as he pulled out another Fireball. "And shut your mouth!" he ordered, shooting the spicy candy into Turbo's mouth.

Turbo gagged, coughing and hacking for a few seconds before spitting out the Fireball. He stuck his tongue out in disgust before glaring at Mallow. He shot out a claw, snatching the racer up by the collar of his shirt.

Lifting the brat up to eye-level, he frowned. "Now then, what to do with you? I should just eat you, especially with all those Fireballs..."

He easily plucked the slingshot away with his other claw, looking it over briefly before crushing it. Then he tossed the remains of the peppermint weapon into his mouth, easily downing it. He sighed in satisfaction, tongue running along his teeth. That killed his endless hunger a tiny bit...

Mallow leered at Turbo before he began laughing loudly. "Go ahead, Turbo! I'd rather be food than live knowing I'll just be a snack later!" he said before smirking. "By the way...am I turbo-tastic now?!" he cackled, spitting on Turbo's hand and putting his usual goggles over his eyes.

"Eugh!" Turbo groaned, tongue stuck out as he shook the claw the brat had spat on. He glared at the boy, not amused.

Then an idea hit him, splitting the cybrid's face in half with a grin.

"How do you fancy a dip, Mallow?" he asked, smirking.

"A dip? Like in the fruit punch sea? I don't think marshmallows taste good with fruit juice," Mallow said with a snarky tone, having accepted his fate.

"No, not in the fruit punch sea," Turbo shook his head. Then he looked thoughtful. "That might be a good idea for later, though. I was thinking more along the lines of...maple syrup? Maybe your pancake friend might like to join in, too?"

He prodded the boy playfully with a claw.

"No, no, no! Pancakes are not on the menu!" Mallow argued as he tried to take a bite out of Turbo's claw.

Turbo pulled his claw away quickly. "Aw, but why? Pancakes go very well with marshmallows and maple syrup!" he taunted, heading deeper into the candy cane forest to sniff out a syrup pool. "Besides, why should we leave poor Jacks out? I'm sure he's lonely, wandering this scary forest all by himself..."

"I'd rather have him be lonely than be a meal for you, Turbo-Loser!" Mallow shouted as he squirmed around hap-hazardously. "Is this really what makes you great?! What happens when you eat us all?! You'll be all alone in here!"

"Oh, I sincerely doubt that. You'll likely regenerate," Turbo replied, glancing between Mallow and the path ahead. "And when you do, maybe we'll play another game like this. And we'll do it again...and again...and again! I'll never be bored! Sure, I can't race like this...but at least you won't be able to either!"

The trees were thinning out up ahead. The heavy scent of warm maple syrup caught Turbo's attention, causing him to trail off from what he was saying. Up ahead was a large pool of maple syrup.

Just what Turbo had hoped to find!

"You're a jerk, you know that?!" Mallow scoffed. "And you were a sucky racer! Whenever you won, it was because the rest of us held back," he taunted.

"Held back from my greatness, maybe. You allknew how inferior you were compared to me," Turbo replied, pausing at the edge of the pool. "Mmmmm! Smells good! If only we had pancakes..."

Mallow stuck his tongue out at him. "I hope you choke on me too, you son of a cy-bug!"

Turbo frowned...and plunged Mallow into the syrup pool, claws snagged on the boy's shirt collar to keep the kid from coming back up of his own accord.

"One, two, three, four! I think I'm hungry for a smore!" Turbo sang merrily, laying down on the chocolaty bank of the pool while his arm was elbow-deep in warm maple syrup. "Five, six, seven, eight! Will drowning here become your fate? Nine, ten, eleven, twelve! Uh... I don't know how to finish this song very well!"

Mallow squirmed and struggled as he tried to get out of the syrup. This was torture! He tried to escape. Then...

"!"

An idea! Mallow quickly began to slip off his syrup-stained shirt as he tried to swim away. Swimming in syrup... Pretty difficult…

Turbo frowned when he felt resistance against his claws. Then...nothing...

The cybrid looked down to see Mallow swimming through the syrup...or trying to. It was like watching someone swimming in slow motion. Pulling his arm from the sticky pool, he watched the brat try to swim for a while.

"This is my most entertaining meal yet," he chuckled.

Mallow ignored Turbo's laughing as he gasped for a quick break of air before dipping back into the syrupy deep to try and escape. It was difficult to go left to right, so he just kept swimming to the right.

Turbo rolled over in his laughter, clutching his stomach. "Yep! Most entertaining meal yet!" the cybrid declared, tails smacking the ground and creating tremors as he laughed.

Mallow coughed from the shaking as he kept swimming, reaching the other side of the syrupy pool before crawling out. Turbo righted himself, easily scuttling over to meet the brat on the far shore. He was tempted to laugh some more but he decided not to, snatching the sticky brat up in one clawed hand.

"Have fun swimming? Told you a dip was a good idea," the cybrid said idly, as if he were chattering to an old friend.

Mallow leered at Turbo. "You're enjoying this too much. You know that, right?"

"Isn't that my job?" Turbo asked with a toothy grin. "And trust me, I'm not done with you yet."

Turbo left the syrup pool behind, heading deeper into the candy cane forest. He was still keeping an eye out for Jacks. He wouldn't mind a secondary snack to the syrup-drenched smore he currently had...

Mallow kept squirming around in Turbo's grip as he lifted his goggles from over his eyes. "Lemme go!" he grunted.

"Awww! Why? That would kill the fun!" Turbo chuckled, tightening his grip on Mallow out of spite. "Just pipe down. We're nearly there, anyway."

Mallow grunted. "Never!" he cackled as he hit the cybrid's claw and kept squirming.

"Fine," Turbo shrugged. "Don't blame me if you choke, though. That's your own fault, not mine. I warned you to pipe down."

The candy cane trees thinned out again, revealing a meadow chock-full of sprinkle flowers. Turbo promptly dropped the syrup-drenched racer among them, rolling the brat around like a toy until he was coated in rainbow sprinkles of all shapes, sizes, and colors. This also resulted in his syrup-covered arm getting coated in sprinkles, but Turbo didn't mind that.

He could lick that off between hunts.

"Hey! Stop! Cut that out! Mmph! Mmh!" Soon enough, Mallow was covered in sprinkles as he kept squirming, defiant as usual.

Turbo plucked him back up, smirking in satisfaction. "I've heard of being tarred and feathered...but this? I guess in Sugar Rush, you get syruped and sprinkled."

The cybrid chuckled darkly at his little joke.

"Just so you know, I'm going to hack a loogie right in your throat," Mallow said defiantly.

"...Eugh," Turbo groaned, disgusted. "Must you be so sick? And I thought I was the bad one here..."

"No, you're still bad," Mallow chuckled grimly. "I'm the lesser of two evils."

"You're the more disgusting of two evils," Turbo muttered, leaving the field of sprinkle flowers behind in favor of the candy cane forest. "Maybe we need to syrup and sprinkle you again, just to get my point across?"

Mallow began licking himself. "What? That you're a jerk?" he said snidely.

"That I don't like snot-nosed brats that backtalk to their superiors," Turbo corrected, spotting the syrup pool up ahead. "And quit licking yourself! You're not doing yourself any favors, you know!"

Mallow snickered. "Superiors? No, you're not my superior. You're a washed-up hack who couldn't share the spot light," he taunted. "And I'll lick myself if I want!" he whined as he kept licking.

Turbo glared at him. "...You know what? I'm done talking to you."

"Aw, Turbo! Buddy!" Mallow chuckled. "I thought we were having fun! Remember those golden days you had? You know, before you got replaced?"

"Food doesn't talk," Turbo grumbled.

He tilted his head back and promptly dropped Mallow into his mouth, sharp yellow fangs crashing shut behind him. A long pink tongue got to work shoving the smore-themed racer toward the back of his throat. The cybrid was obviously eager to silence the boy and digestion was the perfect cure for the annoying chatterbox racer.

Besides, it had worked to silence every other racer he'd found so far.

Mallow may have gone down his throat, but he made good on his promise as he hacked a loogie right on top of it as he gave off a final cackle. Turbo swallowed a few gallons of maple syrup, no doubting the brat would hold true to his word about that loogie.

"I hope you drown in syrup before you digest," the cybrid snarled, wiping his mouth free of the sugary liquid.

Once the disgusting taste of loogie was gone, Turbo headed back into the candy cane trees. He was in a bad mood thanks to Mallow. Might as well take it out on whichever racer he came across next...

.o.o.o.o.

…And I thought Turbo was being disgusting lately. Should've known Mallow would steal that award quickly enough. And with a…ugh! A loogie, of all things…

Rules of Survival #7: Being an overall annoyance, taunting, laughing at, bringing up past events, and hacking loogies in the throats of your resident predator will not make your torment and/or death any less horrible. If anything, it'll make it worse for you.

…I need to stop following the weirdoes around…

This is Pepper Swirlminta, signing off!