Chapter 4

Ralph and Felix, to say the least, were not at all pleased with the state of Game Central's upkeep of the transport system to Sugar Rush. The game, as it happened, was fully functional, but the candy train that took other characters there was not.

"A while back, we had this big, round yellow guy with a big mouth who got the bright idea of munching on the licorice lap restraints," the Surge Protector explained to them. "We'll have regular transport to this place back up as soon as we can. For now, though, no access through here."

Ralph hadn't felt this dejected since before he had saved the arcade from near destruction. "That's just great. Now I'm gonna miss the roster race," he moaned. "'Nelly's gonna be so disappointed…"

"Aw, cheer up Ralph," said Felix. "I'm sure Vanellope's gonna do just dandy! For now, though, you look like you could use a pick-up. Why don't we go over to Tapper's for Float Night? My treat!"

Decidedly unhappy, but with nothing better to do, Ralph followed Felix into the entrance to Tapper's.

…

"Sweet mother of monk-!"

Vanellope's kart had flipped over from the resulting explosion. Thankfully, she had been flung out shortly before the kart toppled over. Her gratitude for being alive was forgotten at the sight of Mario, who swept past her. "Hey!" she called out, but to no avail. She turned and looked first at the sight of her wrecked kart, then at Mario, now a red speck on the horizon, as he sped out of sight.

This couldn't be happening. Vanellope was about to lose the race! And she was supposed to be the best character in her own game. It just wasn't fair!

"Well, now that I guess winning's outta the picture, better take a damage assessment," she grumbled to herself. The kart's body hadn't cracked, but was dented in several places. That was easily fixed. One of the cookie wheels, however, had become detached from it.

Vanellope scurried off of the road, and sped off in the direction of the wheel. She found it laying on the edge of a cliff top beneath a candy tree, albeit in pieces.

She collapsed into a heap on the ground and sniffled. That horrible Mario! she thought to herself. Everyone on the outside always talked about his heroism and greatness, about all the wondrous adventures he'd been through. And now that she finally had the chance to meet him, he'd not only ousted her from the roster race, he'd wrecked her kart!

She could feel the tears coming. "Some hero he is," she moaned, and buried her face in her hands, sobbing. Everything she thought she knew about him was wrong.

For the longest time Vanellope sat in solitude. After what had happened to her, she didn't dare head back to the starting area. No one could see her like this. It was better for her to remain alone as she was for now.

However, a sudden snapping of branches that broke the silence informed her she was not quite alone. The sound had come from below the cliff top. She peered down.

Deep in the valley below lay the smoldering remains of a downed hovercraft of some sort. Nearby the wrecked craft, a large, robed figure stood pacing. The figure, from the looks of things, could only have been the former occupant of the craft.

Vanellope became lost in thought again. This thing, whatever it was, was clearly not native to Sugar Rush either. What was it, and how did it crash-land here? Could it be a bad guy? It certainly bore an appearance to one. But her friend Ralph was supposedly a bad guy, and he had turned out to be a hero, hadn't he? Why should this guy be any different? At any rate, she finally decided, he seemed to be in need of help, and helping him seemed to be the right thing to do. And if anything, he was her best hope of acquiring a replacement tire for the kart.

Carefully, Vanellope sidled her way down the cliffside, and took off for the mystery traveller, who was still pacing with his back to her. "Hey mister," she called out. "You all right there? Happen to have any spare tires?"

At her voice, the thing wheeled around. Vanellope noticed the thing's face, which was obscured by a hood. She could only see his eyes, which emitted a reddish glow. The thing sported a pair of horns that poked out from the hood, giving him a somewhat demonic appearance.

"Whaddya doing here, shrimp?" he spoke in a gruff voice. "Can't you see I've got enough trouble with getting myself outta this dump? And all because of that wretched Mario! I'll never get this airship working again!" And with that, he began to beat the wrecked airship in rage.

And suddenly it became apparent that they were both in the same boat. "Oh… So you don't like Mario either," Vanellope said to the thing's back. "Well- I guess that makes two of us then."

On that note, the traveller ceased beating on the airship and turned to face her. She couldn't see his cloaked face, but his mannerisms suggested half-interest. "So… Mario's your enemy too!" he growled jovially. "You look too young to have any enemies, kid!"

"It's a long story…" Vanellope started, but the traveller continued. "I never knew that even the great racer Vanellope Von Schweetz could be deserving of such a worthy adversary! Well, welcome to the club, Princess."

Vanellope gasped. Whoever, or whatever this thing was, it knew her. "You know my name?" she asked. "But how?"

The thing chuckled. "You're famous, kid. Who doesn't know you?"

"Hmmm…" she wondered aloud. "Look, mister… you got a name?"

The figure pointed to himself. "My name?" he stammered. "It's B- er, it's not all that important. Not very memorable, you see. You could say I'm kind of a mistake within my home world… rather like yourself."

Vanellope took on a little-kid-in-a-candy-store grin. This traveller, whoever he was, had indeed done his homework.

"Listen, erm… Spikehead? Can I call you that? Look… we both don't like Mario, right? Let's make a deal. You help fix my kart, and beat Mario in the roster race, and I'll do whatever it takes to make it up to you. Sounds like a deal, or what?"

"Let's see… we get to crush Mario… and I get something out of it?" Spikehead cackled again. "Sounds like my kind of deal, Princess!"

"Let's shake on it, then."

Their hands met, and Spikehead emitted a mighty, maniacal laugh.