Chapter 26
"Fix-It, it's me." Calhoun made another attempt to reach out to her corrupt husband, rifle aimed at the Good Guy in case she was forced to fight, which was the last thing she wanted to do with Felix. "That Red bitch over there scrambled your code! Fight it; I know some part of you deep inside remembers me!"
"I don't know what you're talking about, blondie," Felix replied. "And I don't really care." A glitch shuddered through the Good Guy's body. "All I know is that you're going to die."
The handyman started toward Calhoun, fists crackling. The sergeant barely had a second to react, as he was already inches from her waist within seconds.
He's fast! She thought as she tried to ready her rifle in order to retaliate, but before Tamora could unload bullets into him, Felix thrust his sparking fist into the sergeant's torso with a force so powerful it even put Donkey Kong to shame.
Tamora was forced backward into a wall next to the doorway, the force from the impact causing an empty coat rack to fall to the floor. The sergeant glanced down at the rack in disbelief. And he's strong! He can't be this strong! That virus is definitely no joke!
That thought was soon confirmed, as she looked up at the corrupt Good Guy, who continued forward with a deadly, crimson gaze fixed on her. It screamed a desire to cause destruction, as well as to get rid of the obstacle before him.
"Sarge!" Kohut hurried to her aid, kneeling down to check for injuries anywhere on her body or little chinks and scratches in her armor. When he didn't find anything, he asked, "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine..." Calhoun struggled to get to her feet, gradually rising to her knees first and gathering her rifle, which she had dropped upon slamming into the wall. She slumped a little upon her slow recovery, feeling a sharp pain in her torso. She winced slightly as the pain threatened to pull her down again, but she wasn't letting it hinder her from saving the arcade and her husband.
"Are you sure?" The second-in-command asked, reaching forward to help his commanding officer to her feet, but she waved it off.
"I'll be okay," Tamora insisted, assuring him as she made another attempt to recover. "Don't worry; we're still in our game unlike Fix-It and Red, and that's the only advantage we have so far." Then she glanced up at her corrupt husband, who glitched over to the pair and smirked down on them. "But I never guessed that Fix-It had grown this powerful. And it hurts like hell." Massaging her attacked stomach, Calhoun managed to rise to her knees again, looking up at Felix, whose body was surrounded by crimson sparks. She found herself fighting to regain her footing, which made her wonder how fast the virus was strengthening Felix. The sergeant was already feeling like she had run a marathon, but she wouldn't give up. She couldn't.
"And it's only going to get worse," Felix threatened, raising his white hammer over Tamora and ready to strike.
"I didn't think it'd be over this quickly," said Red, watching her pet hand over what appeared to be the final blow. "And here I was expecting it to be interesting. I thought you were better than this, Tammy. But I won't complain."
However, the teen's premature triumph faded when Calhoun and Kohut jumped out of the way just as the Good Guy swung his hammer down, narrowly missing them. The two soldiers dodged to opposite sides of Felix, both aiming their weapons at the handyman, who smirked as he regarded them.
"Well, well, it seems you're going make this interesting for me, after all," said the virus.
"Oh, we'll see, Felix." Red propped her chin on one hand, leaning forward and watching the conflict with interest. Maybe they will give us a good fight. It'd be a shame if Felix killed them in one hammer smash.
"Look, Fix-It! I don't want to fight you," Calhoun warned. "And I know you don't want to either." She pointed the business end of the rifle firmly at her husband. Damn, I hope Fix-It gets the message. The sergeant refused to fight or kill her own husband. She loved him too much to lose him like she had lost Brad. However, judging from the Good Guy's current demeanor, Tamora feared that she wasn't going to have a choice.
"Listen to her!" Kohut followed suit with his pistol. "That's your wife! Remember her? You love her!"
"As I said before, I don't remember us ever getting married. Nor do I know either of you!" Felix fired a current of red bolts from both palms, threatening to silence his two opponents.
Calhoun dodged the attack, leaping backward a few inches as the energy barely missed her and struck the carpeted floor, leaving large black marks before the sergeant. In the process, however, she nearly stumbled to the floor again, narrowly retaining her footing before meeting the wall once more. He sure isn't messing around. Tamora thought, as she removed the safety from her rifle. Guess you're not giving me any other option.
Without hesitation, Tamora unloaded her rifle on Felix, sending a flurry of bullets at the Good Guy and hoping to put an end to him. She screamed in rage, as each bullet made contact with Felix, who appeared to tip further and further backward with each hit he took. Memories of her wedding day with Brad rushed through her mind as she continued her onslaught, as she recalled how she had been forced to kill her fiance before he became a Cy-Bug. However, she realized that something was wrong.
"What the hell?" Tamora ended her barrage to notice that Felix was still leaning back, bullet marks present on his body, but as she looked closely, she realized that the handyman was smirking and chuckling darkly as he started to return to a standing position.
"You're pretty good, Tammy," he praised, his wicked smile deepening. "That actually hurt...not."
"But...how...?" The sergeant was at a loss for words at the sight of the horror before her.
"Tammy, did you really think bullets would kill a virus?" Red shook her head and placed a hand to her forehead in mock disappointment. "Shame. I thought you knew that."
I didn't. But Tamora wasn't about to let Red know that, as she clenched her teeth in frustration and backed away from her corrupt husband. There's got to be another way to stop him, or at least reach out to him. The more she glanced up at those scarlet eyes, the less of the true Felix she could see.
"Sounds like this won't take long after all." The Good Guy conjured up his ivory hammer and raised it over Tamora, who readied her weapon once more. The sergeant didn't know how much ammo she had left, but she had to do everything she could to stop him.
"Sarge!" Kohut shouted, struggling to rise to his feet but found himself unable to. The second-in-command had evaded Felix's attack, but not quick enough to avoid receiving the aftershock of it, which grazed his foot. Kohut couldn't stand up, as he fell to his knees every time he made an attempt. And the fact that he was slower than his commanding officer wasn't helping matters, either. However, he wasn't giving up, as he aimed his pistol and started to unload on Felix.
When the bullets exited his gun, they whistled toward the Good Guy, but when they made contact with him, they disintegrated. Some of them seemed to bounce off of Felix as they made contact with the handyman, who didn't flinch a muscle.
"What in the hell?" Kohut wondered, confused at the ineffectiveness of the projectiles. He dropped his weapon in shock as the corrupt handyman continued forward. "Those bullets should've killed you."
"You're just as stupid as your sergeant, aren't you, big guy?" Red shook her head once more, this time sighing at what she was watching. "And I thought I would enjoy watching this, but you two are boring me. Felix, go ahead and finish them off." The teen yawned. "I've still got a glitch and an ape to kill."
"Fix-It, no!" Calhoun pleaded. "You don't have to do this! You don't have to listen to that brat!"
Felix ignored her, as he turned his head to regard Kohut, who had just dropped his pistol in disbelief at the undesired results the bullets made. The infected Good Guy scowled at the second-in-command.
"You're both starting to annoy me." The handyman hissed, turning his back on Calhoun and glitched over to Kohut, who stumbled again under the pain he received from the graze. "Your little bullets are nothing but nuisances against me. Let me show you what I have in store, starting with you." Felix grabbed the subdued Kohut by the throat.
"Actually, I wanted Tammy killed first." Red attempted to correct Felix. "But at this point, I don't care." The teen's golden gaze fell on Kohut's weakening form under the Good Guy's grip. "Besides, the big guy doesn't seem to show any signs of being able to fight back any longer."
"Sarge..." Kohut groaned under Felix's grip. The second-in-command felt his strength escape him, every part of his body slumping and shutting down like a computer or a robot. His sight was starting to fail him as well, his vision blurring as Felix's newfound ability seemed to drain the life right out of him. Kohut couldn't move. He couldn't even raise a finger or toe against the Fix-It malware as the second-in-command was slowly slipping into unconsciousness.
Red laughed sadistically at the second-in-command's pain, then noticed Calhoun making a move to the soldier's aid. Rising from her seat, the teen made her way toward the sergeant, wielding her basket.
"Kohut, I'm coming," Tamora regained her composure and began to hurry to her right-hand man's aid. Looks like at this point, I have no choice, Fix-It; the arcade's more important here, and if you're going to be a threat, I have to stop you. Hell, I know pretty damn well you'd rather die than be a puppet to this Mr. Candy madman and his bitch.
However, Tamora felt her legs being pulled out from under her, causing her to lose her footing once more. The sergeant turned her head quickly to notice a rope tied around her ankles, then raised her gaze to see Red behind her, yanking a long black rope that she had pulled out of her basket. Calhoun tried to move her feet, but couldn't.
"Don't even try it, Tammy," Red said. "This rope is so thick, even Bowser can't break free. It's made out of the finest steel mined by the seven dwarfs." The teen knelt down to her level, nodding to the now-helpless Kohut, who was still in Felix's grasp and was nearly drained of his strength. "Why don't we watch your little soldier suffer together? Felix was just about to finish him off." She then regarded the corrupt Good Guy. "Weren't you, Fix-It?"
"It seems what I've said before didn't sink in." Felix turned his head to face Red, his intense glare directed at the teen, whose pride turned into the slightest hint of fear. The Good Guy released Kohut, focusing his full attention on the young man.
"What didn't sink in?" Red asked, trying to conceal her fear and retain that harsh, demanding tone as she stormed over to the angry Felix. "I gave you an order!"
"And I continue to tell you the same thing." Felix's fists crackled again, this time focused on Red, who was now trembling.
"Now, Felix..." The teen was taking a few steps back until she was backed into a wall behind her next to a few shelves. "Calm down. Justh listhen to me."
That lisp again. The little bimbo had it earlier. Tamora noticed the change in Red's speech, which brought the sergeant back to when she and the racer had been talking in the Mushroom Kingdom's storage room in Super Mario Bros.. Red had only written it off as a cold then, but now that it was happening a second time, the change in Red's speech raised questions in Calhoun's mind. Who is this girl really? Why does that funny accent sound familiar? I'm beginning to think it's more than just a mere cold. Tamora watched the conflict between Red and Felix, with the former merely seconds away from a game over. And while she would enjoy the teen's suffering, Calhoun knew killing her would be wrong, especially when it was Felix who would be responsible.
Red noticed the door not far from her, as she started to make a run toward it to save herself from her own creation's terror. However, she wasn't quick enough, as Felix glitched in front of her like crimson lightning and was only inches from her and almost in her face.
"Nobody tells me what to do!" Felix growled as he unleashed a current of scarlet energy at Red, pinning her against the wall as the deadly bolts made their mark. The teen screamed in pain as every fiber in her code was engulfed in the intensity of the blast, frying her entire body.
"Short Stack..." Calhoun watched as the Good Guy was doing his worst on the teen she knew and loathed for the past few days. The sergeant doubted even more that the creature confronting Red was her husband. Hell, she barely knew the virus.
When Felix finally ceased his attack, Red slumped against the wall, now a crackling, sizzling, and burnt heap on the floor. The Good Guy glared down at the subdued teen.
"I knew you were weak," Felix taunted, giving the teen a swift kick to her side. "And yet you have the nerve to try to command me. Well, here's a little tip for you: I do whatever I decide to do."
Red only groaned weakly in response, all traces of her pride and authoritative attitude gone from her demeanor.
Felix scoffed. "And here I thought I would get some real competition, not this garbage," he complained, glancing from Tamora to Kohut and back again. "Neither of you are even worth a second of my time. I barely broke a sweat against you fools." The corrupt handyman held his glare on Calhoun, hardening it. "And you call yourself a sergeant? Yeah, right. Anyway, I'm off to find someone who's worth it." He glitched away, vanishing into a mess of red pixels.
"Fix-It, wait!" Tamora called out, but her husband was already gone. She slammed her knuckles. "Damn it!" She swore, not only because she hadn't been able to help him but also because the sergeant had no idea where Felix was going or what destruction he'd cause wherever he was headed. "At this rate, the entire arcade will see Fix-It Felix, Jr. as a threat! It's just another reason for me to get that virus out of your body! And she's going to help me." Calhoun's directed her gaze on the unconscious Red, who looked too pathetic for words. It was almost satisfying to see the person she knew and hated for the past few days in such a state. At the same time, it was horrible, and the sergeant couldn't help but feel a little empathy for Red's condition.
"As much as I hate the bimbo, no one deserves to suffer like that. Especially when I need her alive to actually wring that info out of her hood." Tamora crawled over to the teen, then reached for Red's chest to check for a pulse. A little worry set in when her hand made contact with the racer's chest. "She's no help to this arcade dead."
After a few seconds, Tamora felt a faint but steady heartbeat from Red. "Good, she's still breathing." She then heard groaning coming from behind.
"Kohut!" The sergeant remembered as she turned to regard her second-in-command, who was completely exhausted but was barely moving. She needed to hurry to his aid, but that effort was proven difficult when her legs were still tied up. Tamora tried to wiggle her ankles in order to free them, but it was no use, as the ropes were bound tightly around them.
"Fucking ropes," she muttered. "If those brainwashed pussy-willows hadn't taken my knife..."
Her ranting was suddenly cut short when her eyes fell on Red's basket by the teen's side, an idea generating in Tamora's mind. "Maybe Red has something that can cut these ropes."
However, just as Tamora was ready to reach into the racer's bag, she froze when she saw Red's entire body become enveloped in red pixels, the hood, skirt, corset shirt, and red-streaked hair melting away to reveal a pale-faced, diminutive man in a red and white jumpsuit and helmet monogrammed with a red T. The basket was still present by his side.
Tamora scowled, not believing it but she knew there had been something wrong about Red all along. And there it was, in the form of the racer the entire arcade knew and hated with a passion.
"Turbo..." the sergeant growled, eyes skewering into the former racer's still-unconscious, blackened form. "That explains the lisp now. Looks like Kohut's not going to be the only one who needs medical attention, especially when this bastard's going to tell me everything I need to know about that virus and how I can save my husband and the arcade. But how in the hell did he come back? I thought Wreck-It burned him." Then she looked down at her still-bound legs. "First, I need to get free, then get them out of here and turn Turbo into Surge."
With that, Tamora dug into the basket, her hand running through various knick-knacks of various sizes and textures. "How much stuff does this idiot have in here? I'm pretty sure the real Red didn't pack this much."
Several objects later, her hand ran over something sharp, causing her to wince and flinch at the touch. "Feels like a knife, no doubt." Tamora moved her hand along the sharp object until it ran over what appeared to be leather or another rough substance. Positive that it was safe to grab, she gripped the object, pulling it out of the basket. She realized that it was indeed a knife, its blade flashing in the light of the room. The sergeant couldn't help but smirk in wonder at the sight of the weapon and how the real Red probably wouldn't have been one to carry something like it.
However, she had to focus, as she placed the steel blade to the ropes still binding her ankles and ran it through the bonds. They snapped loose, allowing the sergeant to rise to her feet and stretch. Calhoun glanced down at Turbo, scowling and cursing herself about what she was going to do next.
"You'd better be happy I need you," she muttered as she reached down to pick up Turbo and hoisted him on her shoulders.
She went to Kohut's aid next, kneeling down to examine the second-in-command. "Fix-It's done a number on you, soldier," she said as she lowered Turbo to the floor to free both of her hands. The sergeant turned Kohut over so he was facing her, then placed a hand on his neck to check for a pulse. I know we're in our game, but God knows what that idiot did to our game.
When she felt thumping under his neck, the sergeant exhaled in relief. Good, you're breathing too. Hate to lose a lady as valuable as you, but if it happened, well...it would've been for a good cause. Anyway, we need to get you some help. Surely Surge might be able to help or at least knows someone who can.
Tamora lifted Kohut carefully by the armpits, cursing how heavy he was as opposed to Turbo. It took a few tries and some time to get him into position so she could carry him easily. However, Calhoun was able to hoist her second-in-command onto her left shoulder, tossing him a few times to make sure that he wouldn't slip off. She picked up Turbo afterward, scooping the ex-racer up under her right arm.
"Hang in there, soldier," Tamora assured Kohut, taking a deep breath and carefully rising to a standing position. She had to be careful not to drop either of them, though she would find it satisfying if she were to "accidentally" drop Turbo in a Cy-Bug pit somewhere in her game.
More questions generated in her mind as Tamora made her was out of her office one step at a time. She thought back on what Lucy and the other prisoners had been saying about the "heart of the arcade," curious as to what that was, as well as what Mr. Candy and Turbo wanted with it. Tamora knew that those were only a couple out of many questions she would ask Turbo once the latter woke up. She also wondered if Surge knew anything about this source of the arcade. The sergeant sure as hell wasn't plugged in early enough to learn about the arcade's "heart," but she knew that it would mean bad news for Game Central Station if either Turbo or Mr. Candy were to get a hold of it.
…
"When King Jerkass Candy said I would have a 'special' assignment, I wasn't expecting this," Gloyd said as he was replacing the pink-or salmon, as Candy would have called it- sheets and blankets on the king-sized bed in the former tyrant's large room, which was the size of a living room, complete with a walk-in closet and hutches with dozens of gold trophies and coins.
"Again, why am I doing this?" Gloyd asked himself, having asked that same question ever since Candy and his guards had frogmarched him up to the ex-king's room for the task. "I'm pretty sure it's for more than just my 'vulgar language.' I mean, can't he just do this stuff himself. And why the color change all of a sudden?" The pumpkin racer glanced over at the purple sheets and blankets lying in the corner of the room, along with several cans of paint and a bag of rose petals. That raised questions in Gloyd's mind, as he knew Candy had always been a fan of salmon, not purple.
"Must be a damn good reason," said Gloyd as he pulled the last of the sheets from the bed and tossed it aside. "Of course, I shouldn't expect any answers from him. Guess it's part of that 'plan' he's talking about. And how in the hell did he get those?" He nodded to the pile of purple sheets. "He must've been holding out on us about purple being his second favorite color. And what's with the rose petals? Don't tell me he's got a girl somewhere. Must be one brave girl."
The pumpkin racer headed over to the corner to fetch the new bedspreads, grabbing the thin, translucent sheets and dragged them over to the bare mattress, which was hard considering that he was still weak from the virus.
However, Gloyd managed to haul the sheets over to the mattress, tossing the linen onto it and moving to each corner one at a time in order to tuck it under each end of the mattress until it was completely covered in purple. Then he repeated the process with the second cover, except that Gloyd only covered as far as three-fourths of the bed with that sheet, stopping at where he would place the pillows and folded it back. The pumpkin racer was starting to follow with the comforter-the heaviest part of the bed-as he heard the door open.
"Hey, is His Highness's room ready yet?" One of the rotten candy subjects that had been roaming and guarding the upper wings entered, an impatient expression on its face as it glared at the orange-clad racer. Gloyd knew that they were a far cry from the candy spectators who congregated and cheered the racers on during arcade hours, thanks to King Candy's virus.
The former spectators had been poking in frequently to "check" on Gloyd to make sure he didn't have any escape ideas. The Halloween-themed racer found it annoying, especially when the candy spectator before him was one of his, with its candy corn-shaped body, which was no longer black, white, and orange, but purple, black, and gray. It was another reason why Gloyd loved to know what was with King Candy's sudden obsession with purple. It was creeping him the hell out big time.
"Hold your water!" Gloyd snapped as he tossed the comforter on the bed, moved to the bottom-left corner, and began to tuck it in under the mattress. "I'm just finishing up with this bed, okay? I've still got the walls to paint. Our game wasn't created in a day, you know?"
"Well, His Highness's room needs to be done in less than a day." The high-pitched voice of the ex-spectator was screaming a loss of patience. "Actually, you kinda got a couple of hours now, 'cause I heard he's found something in one of the rooms downstairs."
"And that is?" The pumpkin racer successfully tucked in the corner under the mattress, then went to the other corner of the comforter to pull it toward the other side of the mattress. He resisted the urge to freeze in the process, but his fear still rose to the nether regions as he wondered who or what the "something" was. Don't let it be Vanellope. If she's in here too, we're screwed. Who knows what Turbo might do to her if that's the case?
"User if I know, but it sounds like it's important enough for him to see a completed room by the time he comes up here."
"And how the hell am I supposed to paint a fucking room in two hours? And throw rose petals?" Gloyd then added, "And what is with the rose petals?"
"Beats me." The spectator shrugged. "You figure it out. Good luck...not."
When the subject left with a slam of the door, Gloyd tucked the second corner under the mattress, then took the untucked ends of the comforter and pulled them over the bed, stopping at the area where he would place the pillows. He went over to corner of the room for the three violet pillows and topped off the bed with them, making sure they were neatly aligned. Part of him wanted to just lazily throw them on the bed without a care for how Candy actually wanted them organized. It would satisfy the pumpkin racer, but it would also more than likely earn him a trip to the Hot Springs, which was one place he was trying to avoid.
After he was finished, Gloyd slumped to his knees on the floor, sighing as his gaze fell on the paint cans and rose petals, knowing there was still work to be done.
"I wonder who or what this whole thing is all for?" the pumpkin racer said. "Whatever or whoever Candy found must be pretty special to him. And he's working my ass like a dog trying to make sure this mystery plan happens...in a couple hours." Gloyd threw down his flattened hat and grabbed his hair in frustration. "Why in the hell this keeps happening to me, User? Things keep happening to me with or without a virus, an upgrade or a King Candy. And I just want to know why. What'd I do to deserve this labor? Tell me, please. And tell me whether or not Vanellope will come save us and if she and Rancis are fine." I mean, God, I hope they are. And knowing Rancis, he had to have gotten into some sort of crap. He always does, even before the upgrade.
…
"This sucks," Citrusella complained as she dipped her paintbrush into the can of purple paint next to her and applied it to the throne room wall.
The blueberry recolor was tasked with painting the throne room of Sugar Castle, along with Adorabeezle and Minty, the latter of whom they had run into upon being shoved into the throne room.
The green apple racer was also infected and had been forced into the job while Citrusella, Crumbs, and the others had been locked up. Minty had just returned to Sugar Rush when she was taken, having been joined by Swizzle and Torvald, who were hauled into a different task. She didn't know what they were doing, but she was certain that it was more torturous than painting the throne room.
"You said it," agreed Adorbeezle, rolling an enormous paint roller across the throne room floor, heading past Minty and Citrusella and toward the throne itself.
"Tell me why in the hell we're painting the throne room purple!" Citrusella grumbled, dipping her brush into the violet solution again and moving onto the windowsill right next to her. "Since when did King Candy start liking purple? What happened to 'salmon?'" The recolor made air quotes over the last word.
"Maybe Candy's learned there are other colors out there since he's come back?" Minty inquired as she finished her section of the wall by the first window on her left and moved on to the other side of that window. She was beside herself after Citrusella and Adorabeezle had filled her in on King Candy's resurrection, not to mention just as confused and angry as they were about the impossibility of it. Questions swam through her mind regarding the situation, but came up blank as far as answers were concerned.
However, that was nothing compared to the green apple's current condition. She was already sweating, her limping bow threatening to fall off of her head and her jacket slipping off of her shoulders. Minty was having it worse than the others in the room, with her shirt and pants baggy, ripped, and filled with holes as if she'd been in a fight with Roy or Morton Koopa. Her once-fair skin was just as sallow as the others, almost like a ghost's. Citrusella and Adorabeezle knew for sure that she was having an immensely difficult time keeping her bearings, considering that Minty had been hard at work longer than the two of them combined.
And it showed, as the green apple racer teetered back and forth, paintbrush in hand and nearly falling toward the wet, painted wall.
"Minty?" Citrusella glanced over at her, worried. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, Cit," the green apple racer assured her as she tried to regain her bearings. "Just a little dizzy, that's all." Minty held on to the wall with her brush, taking deep breaths as she was slowly fighting for her equilibrium.
"You're not fine, Mint," Adorabeezle rebutted, pausing her one-girl paint relay run to check on the disoriented racer. The popsicle racer placed her hand on Minty, trying to comfort her. "You're obviously exhausted. Hey, we all are, but you got it worse. You should sit down somewhere and rest for a while. Hide in the code room."
"But I can't." Minty insisted. "We have to keep going; otherwise, we're taking a bath in the Hot Springs."
"At least the Springs will save us from this torture," said Citrusella. "Ever since we got out of the Fungeon, we've toiled and then some. I can hardly take anymore of this."
"And we're not even halfway done with this place," Adorabeezle added, gesturing to the unpainted half of the side they were still working on that led to the door, as well as the opposite side of the throne, which was still pink and untouched. "King Turbutt's nearly trying to kill us!"
"It's enough that I'm separated from Jub," Citrusella said, thinking of her cherry-themed twin and the possible torture she was possibly enduring. "Who knows what Turbo's making her do?"
"Not to mention Torvald," Minty added, now slumping to her knees. "I'm not sure about Sticky. I haven't seen her around ever since we left this game earlier. Hopefully she's still in GCS and not here."
"Same with Vanellope, Taffyta, and Candlehead." Adorabeezle was just as worried for their president, the heart of Sugar Rush. "I hope they're not captured like us."
"I hear you," Citrusella replied. "And I still owe Taffyta an apology for my being a bitch to her after our race. It was totally wrong of me."
"If we survive long enough for that to happen," Minty said.
"Well, aren't you a ray of sunshine?" Adorabeezle retorted sarcastically.
"Hey! What are you fools talking about? Move your arms, not your mouths!" came an angry voice.
The trio noticed an Oreo guard enter the throne room, and while it didn't have a face, the girls could tell that it was none too pleased with their slacking off. They found it hard to believe how much the virus changed the once-monotone guards, namely their attitudes. Its nonexistent gaze fell on the slumped Minty.
"And what's up with her?" it demanded.
"Oh, you can't tell?" Citrusella retorted, arms folded over her chest as she shot the guard her usually snarky look. "Well, let me clue you in: she's exhausted. We all are. We've been painting this shithole non-stop without a break. Seriously, with all the work that we've been doing and still have ahead of us, we should be getting paid! Or we're going on strike!"
"'Strike.' Yeah, right," the cookie-shaped guard chuckled huskily. "As if you can go on strike. Without dying, that is."
Before Citrusella could shell out another snide comment, Adorabeezle stepped forward. "What does Candy need this makeover for, anyway?"
"Hell if I know. All I know is that you'd better have a painted throne room before His Highness comes in. And your friend over there will just have to tough it out. Anyway, ciao."
When the guard left, Citrusella clenched her teeth in frustration, fighting the urge to use her whip to turn the Oreo guard into crumbs and a mess of cream. Not that she could, thanks to her sapped strength from the virus.
"That guard doesn't know how lucky he is right now," she growled.
"I so hope Vanellope, Taffyta, or anyone else who's out there knows what's going on in this game," said Minty, struggling to rise to her feet.
"One can hope," added Adorabeezle. "I wish we could do something right now, but no, all we can do is stick it out and keep painting."
"I still don't understand how Turbo's back and why," the green apple racer started to contemplate that question. "And the sudden obsession with purple."
"We're just as lost as you, Mint," Citrusella sighed, calming down as the trio returned to their work.
…
"Even the code room gets dirty sometimes," Sour Bill murmured in his monotone voice as he was sweeping the code room's floor. Although King Candy hadn't exactly tasked him with cleaning said area, the sour adviser still felt responsible and committed to keeping it clean. At first, the former tyrant didn't care overmuch about the code room, but after plenty of stern insistence, Candy had relented and allowed Bill to tidy up the data sanctum of Sugar Rush.
The sour drop swept up the last of the stray dust and dirt into his dustpan, then dumped it into the wheeled trash can. Bill only had to wipe down the walls, but just as he was ready to grab the cloth he had hung on the trash can's handle...
"He...lp..." a voice was heard, causing Bill to freeze.
The tiny advisor glanced around the code room, searching for the owner of the voice. Then he stepped out of the curtain of the room to stick his head in the throne room, where he only saw Minty, Adorabeezle, and Citrusella painting the walls and floor and almost ready to drop into exhaustion. None of them paid him any mind, which made him realize that the voice didn't belong to any of them. Besides, the girls looked a bit too exhausted to scream for help.
"I must be hearing things," said Bill as he closed the plum curtain, grabbed the cloth, and proceeded to clean the walls.
"Any...one...help..." the voice called again, stopping him once more. This time he realized that it was louder and a little closer than he originally thought.
That was when the sour drop turned to the code room's vault, dropping the cloth and approaching it to see if the voice was coming from inside.
"Someone must need help," Sour Bill guessed as he inched his body closer to the vault to try to identify the voice's owner.
"Some...one...get...me out..." it pleaded again, this time ringing in the sour drop's nonexistent ear as he quickly jumped back. He still couldn't tell whose voice it was.
"Someone must have piggybacked in here, because it isn't any of the racers," Bill realized as he glanced around to see if King Candy or any of the guards were looking. When he was positive that it was clear, the adviser proceeded to punch in the code to open the vault.
"Sour Bill?"
Wynnchel's voice caused Bill to freeze, as the sour adviser turned around to see the eclair police officer entering the code room, with no Duncan following. Bill found that strange, as they always stayed together...unless Candy had given them separate assignments.
"Wynnchel," Bill simply said, wondering what the officer wanted.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm cleaning the code room." Then Bill raised a nonexistent eyebrow at Wynnchel. "Why are you here?"
"Candy needs you upstairs in his room. Apparently, the room still isn't finished yet." There was venom in Wynnchel's words. "I don't know why or for what he needs his room prepared, but it sounds urgent from how he practically yelled at Orangeboar." The officer glanced over Bill's shoulder at the vault. "Unless there was something else more important."
"I'll be right up," Bill droned, taking one last glance at the code room vault and knowing that identifying the mystery person in the vault would have to wait.
...
"Okay, my voice is dead," Gretel sighed hoarsely as she slumped back on her rear, being careful not to electrocute herself against the bars. She was exhausted, and her lungs needed rest from shouting for help, hoping that someone outside would hear her. "I don't know if anyone heard me outside or not. If so, I'd be already free as a bird."
At leasth you tried, King Candy said, giving her credit for her effort.
"Yeah, and what good did that do? I'm never getting out of here. There's no way anyone can hear me out there, and I'm all the way in the back of the room." The young racer punched the floor of her cage, frustrated at how useless she had been. She regarded the hologram. "I'm guessing you don't have any ideas or anything in your code box that can get me out."
Sthorry, no. The former king shook his head.
"Great. Just great," Gretel groaned.
Don't give up. Justh keep trying...once your throat getsth better, of coursthe. I'm sthure sthomeone will hear you if you yell louder.
"Gee thanks." And all I'm going to end up doing is scream until I can't talk at all. There's gotta be a better way to go about this.
But thisth "Mr. Candy" persthon you told me about sthoundsth dangerousth, guessed the ex-tyrant, remembering most of the details Gretel had told him about the wicked mastermind who was using his name, from how he had several minions from other games to how the wicked leader was infecting games left and right. The last part interested King Candy the most. From what you've been telling me, I wonder if he'sth the reason I'm... After that, no sound came out.
"I didn't get the rest of what you just said." Gretel regarded Candy, curious as to what he was trying to say but then realized why that was the case. "That must have been what you meant about the woman."
Yesth, it'sth that complication in my code, he confirmed.
"Hopefully, someone will hear us out there and save us. Then we'll see about what that woman did to you." Gretel smiled faintly. "You said we shouldn't give up, right?"
Right. Then Candy's brown eyes fell on one of the infected purple item panels not far from Gretel's cage but a few yards away from her. The former tyrant tried to take as close a look as possible at the panel, which slowly turned around to reveal its contents.
"What is it?" Gretel asked, noticing Candy's gaze on the panel right next to her prison. "What are you looking at?" When the ex-tyrant faced her, a smile was evident. "Okay, now I'm lost. What are you so happy about all of a sudden? Unless you're happy about what's in that panel." The tween nodded to the panel. "What exactly is in that panel, anyway?"
The key to your esthcape, King Candy answered with optimism. It may be infected, but it'sth worth a shot.
Gretel's gaze fell on the purple panel, which displayed an object shaped like a bullhorn. She regarded Candy again, eyebrow raised.
"A horn? A horn will help me escape? Be serious. I'm in jail, not at a football game."
I am stheriousth, my dear gumdrop, the former tyrant corrected her. And this will at least help you escape your cage, hoo hoo hoo. You sthee, thisth isth not justh any mere horn.
"Then what kind of horn is it?" Gretel asked, growing a little annoyed with the suspense.
It'sth the Sthuper Horn.
The end of this chapter is the product of playing Mario Kart 8 so much. And also, I have another convention this weekend, so I wanted to get this one out too. Hope everyone enjoyed it! Read and Review, and stay tuned.