Chapter Nine

Bunga Book

It had taken a lot of effort, mostly on the part of Bark, to haul the now single-sidecar mess that was the Marvelous Queen into Central City. The effort certainly hadn't gone without attention—passerbys treated them with confused looks as they hauled the half-scrapped vehicle to the first bike repair shop. They only gained more attention when they had to trudge out to take it to another nearby shop, since the first one hadn't serviced airbikes. By the time they got settled into the rinky-dink lounge, complete with a fine selection of tasteless nudie magazines, the sun had set behind the horizon and the entire crew was tired and irate.

Not that getting to the shop made it any better.

"Look, buddy, I'll give you a flat hundred to fix this thing. It won't take any time at all. Take the damn hundred." Nack insisted, waving a bill in front of the lynx owner's face. An un-amused expression was painted on it as he tapped his claws against the counter in annoyance. "It's a older model. No tough parts. And it just needs some small fix-ups. Will you just take the damn hundred already?"

"Look, buddy, I don't know who you think you are or who you think you're trying to play." The repairman leaned back and shook his head. "But none of the mechanics are dumb enough to think that mess you hauled in is an 'easy fix'. You're gonna have to go down a solid three hundred at minimum. And that's if we don't find any extra issues that need to be fixed."

"I just need it to run." Nack said through grit teeth.

"And three hundred minimum is what it's gonna take for us to get it to run. If you're LUCKY." The lynx snorted. "No one in this TOWN is gonna fall for your bullshit. NO mechanic would work on that thing for such a low price. I'm lowballing it as is so you should just take the damn deal while its available."

"I don't have three hundred to drop!" Nack snapped.

"Then take the bus. Or walk."

"I'm trying to get to freakin' Station Square! You don't WALK to Station Square from goddamn Efrika!" Nack shouted. The lynx seemed unfazed.

"So take a boat out of Spagonia."

"I…uh, we can't do that." Nack sombered slightly, backing up a bit. The lynx rolled his eyes and focused on the crew behind the weasel. They were a weird bunch. Nevermind the little girl inexplicably hanging out with obvious criminals, there was also the bear who looked like he could piledrive a semi with a slightly psychotic looking duck on his shoulder. That and the young woman pressed against the bear's side with his arm wrapped firmly around her mouth. She looked mad.

He flipped his eyes back and forth between the two. Then he chuckled.

"You can't, can you? Alright. Then let's just drop the formalities. You idiots, I've seen you on the news." Nack froze up at the lynx's words. His fingers tickled the handle of his pistol and the lynx shook his hand with a grin. "Nah, nah. Trust me, I don't care. Half my customers are the goddamn mafia. Whatever a bunch of low down bounty hunters are up to isn't any of my business. But plenty of people right now know what YOU'RE up to. She's Mina Mongoose, innit she?"

"YES! Call the police!" Mina shrieked, popping over the bear's arm. Bark immediately stifled her again and the lynx chuckled in amusement.

"Thought so. You three…er, four?" He gestured at Stella and she just shot him a gleaming smile. "…Eh, yeah. You're all the Hooligans, right? Made quite a name for yourselves thanks to screwing up so many times working for Eggman. Not that anybody has lamented it, mind you, he ain't a popular guy."

"Just get to the goddamn point." Nack snapped, resting his elbow on the counter with his fang bared to the attendant. The young lynx had clearly worked with plenty of criminals—the action didn't even make him flinch. He just let out a snicker. "What the hell do you want to fix my bike?"

"You saw the nightclub next door, right?" He jerked a thumb to the left. Nack nodded slowly. "Well, me and my brother own it. It's sort of a new venture, if you get what I mean. I wanna run it by night and be the repairman by day. Twice the income. But since its new, we've been having a bit of trouble getting acts. I got plenty of bastards lined up to come hang out in the place but I've been having a hell of a time finding anyone to actually perform. They all want to perform at, I don't know, well known joints or something."

"I said get to the goddamn point. You haven't gotten to the goddamn point yet." Nack said testily. The lynx laughed raucously, slamming his paw against the counter a few times.

"I like you, buddy. Alright, I'll play straight." He snickered. "I know you got Mina Mongoose right behind you there. Everybody loves Mina Mongoose's voice. You hand her over to do a gig tonight at my nightclub, then I'll have Roy in the back do the whole damn job for free. Capisce?"

"What?! I am not performing some…some STRIP CLUB gig!" Mina shrieked, popping out to hang fully over Bark's arm. The bear rolled his eyes, not bothering to pull her up again—the cat was out of the bag anyways. "Look, I know that a lot of people think some of those weird rumors about me are true but—"

"Will you relax, babe? It ain't a strip club. We don't do strippers. Me and my brother perform classy shit, y'know, jazz and swing. It's the perfect thing to get drunk to." The lynx interrupted. Mina was still red in the face. "Scout's honor, miss, you won't be takin' off even your ugly ass scarf. I mean, you'll have to wear some of the club clothes but that's it."

"I will NOT—"

"Yeah, sure, fine. She's yours. Stella, you wanna watch this?" Nack said flippantly. Mina stared at the weasel open mouthed in disbelief. Stella nodded eagerly. "Alright, that's fine, got that all worked out. But you have to put a wig on her or something, I don't want anyone recognizing her and calling nine one one on our asses. And you better have good security, I'm running a kidnapping deal here and I don't want the target running off just because you jackasses can't run your club worth a damn."

"Great! Hey, Roy, come out here and get this girl over to the nightclub! She's gonna be our act for tonight!" The repairman shouted into the back of the store. A larger lynx, with more of a dark auburn fur, emerged from the shop—he was smaller and less built that Bark but the Hooligans could tell just from looking that the beast of a man could definitely at least try to hold his weight against the bear. Years of muscle built up from the hard labor of automobile repair rippled under his fur and his face seemed permanently set in an expression of distaste.

Mina swallowed her protests.

"It's nice to meet you, Miss Mongoose. Jim and I thank you greatly for your help." He said. The massive cat's voice was deep and although it was rough and husky in tone, he spoke smoothly and professionally. "If you would follow me, I could get you set up in an outfit for the performance. We can put her on tonight, I assume?"

"Yeah, I don't give a shit. Just have my bike fixed by morning and make sure Mina don't look like Mina." Nack shrugged. "Now, I need my airbike to be running, but if there's anything you want to touch up on then you wouldn't hear me complaining. She needed an oil change."

"I will do my best." Was all Roy replied, taking Mina's arm in his hand. She felt like a toothpick underneath his palm—it was big enough to cover her whole hand. "Please come with me."

"I, uh…" Mina made to protest but she found nothing could come out. She shot a hateful glare at Nack. He just grinned and tipped his hat at her as the giant cat led her away with Bark in tow. Just yesterday she had ALMOST thought that the weasel and his men had some good in them, but apparently they couldn't go twenty-four hours without taking advantage of someone. It just figured. It wasn't as if they had saved her or patched her up out of personal concern, after all.

Still, from the lounge, she could hear the remnants of excited shouts.

"I've always wanted to see this! I've never seen Miss Mina perform, not ever, she's always been too far away for me to! I bet she looks twice as amazing performing in person! I'm actually gonna SEE it! It's like a super special show that no other fan will see ever! Isn't it great?!"

"It was a lucky coincidence, wasn't it."

Mina groaned. She just couldn't work them out. She supposed as she was ferried through the door connecting the garage and the club that she didn't really want to, even if it did frustrate her to no end to not understand everything in her situation. She puffed her cheeks up obstinately—then rolled her eyes as the owner let out a shout telling Bean to put his damn bomb out in his shop.

So frustrating…

Nack let out a breath of satisfying smoke with a long sigh. It felt like it had been months since there had been a quality cigar latched between his fangs. This place that they were maintaining was just his sort of joint—lots of alcohol and lots of cigarettes under a good low light with a backup singer prepping the audience. She was a sweet thing, he thought with a snicker, a small little lemming bustling around the stage to fix it up for the upcoming show. What a kid like that was doing under the pressure of nightclub work, the weasel supposed he could never figure out.

Even better, Bean had disappeared thirty minutes ago when the repairman had come out saying that Bark had asked for the duck. Nack supposed that he wanted the dynamo for extra security—they were risking a lot agreeing to this but they wouldn't be going anywhere without reliable transportation. Plus, he thought it was funny as hell. The face that the pop star had made when the bounty hunters had agreed to the deal had been one of the most priceless expressions he had seen in a while.

Aside him sat Stella. She was munching on a grilled cheese that the bar had quickly whipped up for her, accompanied by a Roy Rogers. All exceptions that weren't on the bar menu, but the sheer fact that she was there at all was an exception anyways. Normally kids weren't allowed in sleaze holes like this but Nack hadn't really felt it a good idea to leave her alone in the garage with Roy. Not that he didn't trust the guy, he seemed like a pretty straightforward type, but he just figured Stella had wanted to see the show and wasn't too keen on letting the young girl out of his sight.

He coughed a bit when she tried to slither up on the table, which was just an extension of the runway style stage that stretched out from the front. Lights gleamed from the side, illuminating them with an eerie purple glow. Nothing that made him look anything out of the normal, but Stella's snow-white fur was currently reflecting it like a neon lamp. The whole setup admittedly did remind the weasel of a strip club…but he was going to have to take the garage duo on their word.

"She's pretty." Stella commented, her brow knotted. "But where's Miss Min—"

Nack shot the girl a look.

"…Uh, I mean, when is the main show starting?" She giggled, covering her mouth. Nack chuckled.

"It shouldn't long now. Don't worry, you'll get your personalized little concert, princess moneybags. You kinda got yourself a win-win situation with this, didn't ya? Meanwhile I gotta sit back and listen to the pop star try to croon." Nack laughed. Stella shook her head with a smile.

"I think she'll do a great job." Stella stated. Nack rolled his eyes, but as if on cue, the stage lights on the runway clicked shut in sequence and a spotlight shone down on the middle of the empty stage. From behind dark red curtains, white-gloved arms appear to part the red mass, and the mongoose stepped into the spotlight with a confidence that only a professional singer could have. Nack quickly inspected the garage duo's effort of concealing the sensation.

A long blonde wig had been carefully placed over the mop of purple—it successfully hid all the true strands of hair as it fell around her ankles. Her usual naked face was painted delicately in matching red lipstick and a subtle pink eyeshadow. The pop star attire had been lost. Replacing it was a long pale pink dress with a slit up the side and a heart cut neckline, with thin black leather belts strung around the waist. Nack took a satisfied puff from his cigar—he was afraid that a pair of middle aged men would have some trouble making a successful disguise but they seemed to know their makeup and attire. No one would mistake her for Mina Mongoose, that was for sure.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the evening, I present you with Minnie Myrna." The husky but smooth voice of the larger lynx emerged from the top of the stage—a microphone. Nack scrunched up his nose. That guy was supposed to be working on his bike right now. He silently swore that he'd pull a few out of the register if his bike wasn't done just because his repairmen were distracted by his captive. "She will be presenting us with a song about a man."

The audience went silent as the disguised pop star approached the stage. As her thin gloved hands wrapped around the mic, the audience seemed to almost lean in as a whole entity. Nack snorted; they were clearly all taken by the girl. Not that it bothered him—the better they took to Mina, the more likely that he didn't get screwed over in this deal. His ear flipped as he could hear a horn starting up from the side of the stage, the same lemming girl from before now in a tuxedo with a trumpet in her hands.

And then, he caught Mina's eyes.

And she smirked.

Somehow, it sent a feeling of dread through his stomach.

"Come on folks! Gather 'round." Mina declared to the audience, holding out her hand and detaching the mic to step past its stand. "The world out there's a jungle, with danger everywhere. A wet old cat, a dirty rat, does things that just ain't fair."

Her heels clacked as she swiftly made her way down the runway stage. "Now here's the king of the swingers—" Mina chuckled harshly, slamming her heel down next to Nack's table to glare down at him with a painted smile. "—At least he USED to be. He thinks its cool to play the fool and mess with you and me!"

Nack shrank backwards as the pop star shifted her hips back and forth—the entire audience was looking to him curiously now. He pushed his hat down over his eyes, but only enough so that he could still glare out at the girl. She returned the fierce look. "Look out ladies! Dolls, watch out. He'll eat you up and spit you out…he's Bunga Bunga, the king of fun, look right PAST that son of a gun. Take care kitten! Broads, beware! He'll break your heart with time to spare—Bunga Bunga, the king of sin, he won't give up and he won't give in!"

The women aside Nack were now shifting slightly aware from him. He groaned in irritation—Stella was clapping yet here he was regretting everything. Should've just thrown her in a ditch, he should've…more trouble than she was worth. The girl could get her revenge rightfully, he could at least give her that. It had been some time since someone had singled him out in a crowd and managed to submit him to abject humiliation.

"Look out! Beware! Watch out, take care! Now WAIT a minute, there's more!" She shouted, slamming her heel off the stage and onto the extended table that his beer was on. The entire thing shook. "The law of the jungle, is a law of his design. A smooth operator, he breaks the rules most everytime! Slimy like a snake he slides around the scene, his big gorilla bodyguard, his broken limousine!"

"Look out ladies! Dolls, watch out! He'll eat you up and spit you out!" She bowed down to the group of women at the table aside Nack. "He's Bunga Bunga, the king of fun—look right PAST that son of a gun! Take care, kitten, broads beware! He'll break your heart with time to spare, he's Bunga Bunga, the king of sin! You're just a page in the Bunga Book of his life."

Nack grit his teeth around his cigar as the woman climbed back onto the stage, holding one hand the sky dramatically while one hovered in his general direction. "He ROARS like a lion—but he's just a PUSSYCAT. He's strong like an elephant—but he's just a dirty RAT!"

On the last line she turned on her heel, bowed down, and stared the weasel right in the eyes face to face. For that moment, both he and the little girl sitting aside him caught the sheer determination and willpower that existed within the pop singer that was so often portrayed by the media as meek and waifish. Even if it was just through song, she wouldn't let what she considered a slight to justice and dignity go, and it was clear that if Nack was going to sell her dignity then she was going to take his right along with it.

"Look out, ladies—dolls, watch out! He'll eat you up and spit you out, he's Bunga Bunga—the king of sin. And you're just a page, yeah just a page, just a page in the Bunga Book of his dirty life." The last line was almost whispered into the microphone yet it amplified out to everyone in the crowd as the musical accompaniment finished up behind her. With a toss of the blonde wig hiding her natural purple locks, Mina stepped back up on the stage and presented the audience with a gleaming smile and held out her arms to them. For a moment, they were silent.

Then they burst into applause.

Nack supposed it was inevitable; all of them were either drunk or drowning in tobacco fumes so it was likely anyone there had actually picked up on Mina's actions. Even Stella was squealing and clapping like a little maniac—not that he hadn't expected that with how much of a fanatic the girl was over the popstar. As the captive of the Hooligans slid into another song number, a soft jazzy love song, the weasel groaned loudly and flicked his cigar to the side.

He would need something way stronger than that to get through this stupid night.

At least my damn bike will get fixed….