The Origin of MASK
Chapter 13: An Unsound Foundation, Part 3
By Jelsemium and/or Qweb
Rax and the local goons moved to comply, and Mayhem followed. The four prisoners scrambled to the door, only to find it locked. They turned to face their captors grimly.
Vanessa also found herself confronted with a locked door. She made her way back down the stairs and found Whip, but she couldn't bring herself to put it on. She looked for Gorey and demanded. "Gorey, you pinhead, turn on your mask and get that door open!" Gorey obediently turned on Samson and looked around for something to knock the door down with. When Vanessa saw him reach for one of the support pillars, she cried: "Not with that!"
Too late, Gorey pulled the pillar free and started for the stairs, knocking a few more pillars down on the way.
Vanessa shrieked, pulled on her smelly mask and went up the stairs two at a time. "Whip, ON!"
The heavy door disintegrated just as the floor of their living quarters started to collapse on Gorey.
"Gorey, you Philistine!" Vanessa swore as she leaped to safety.
The combination of exploding door, falling floor, and leaping Vanessa rather interrupted the proceedings in the hall. Venom and the local help scrambled frantically for the vehicle wing. Jacques whipped around and aimed a savage savate kick at the door. The lock popped off into the street and was followed by the escaping prisoners.
The Venom agents made it to their vehicles and blasted out of the other building. Mayhem's Switchblade helicopter and Vanessa's flying car took to the air. Rax went tearing off in his newly repaired Piranha cycle.
Jacques, who had an excellent sense of direction, led the way. Scott and T-Bob pelted after him gamely. It wasn't until they had gone several blocks that they noticed that Calhoun hadn't kept up with them.
"Diable! I forgot he was hurt!" Jacques could have kicked himself. "Scott, go get help."
Before Scott could object, the lumberjack was headed back the way he came. T-Bob converted into motor-scooter mode and Scott hopped on. They had gone only a few miles when a flying car swooped down out of the sky and cut off their escape route.
"DAD!" cried Scott, and he flung himself into the conveniently open gull wing door. T-Bob threw himself in after his human. The two of them managed to half strangle the object of their affections before Matt could pry himself loose.
"Scott! T-Bob! What are you two doing here?" Matt gasped (partly in shock, partly because of the strangleholds.)
"Venom kidnapped us!" Scott explained.
"Venom!" exclaimed Alex.
"And they've got Calhoun," Scott blurted out. "Jacques went back to help him. You've got to rescue them!"
"Right!" Matt responded. He leaned forward to let Scott and T-Bob scramble in. Then Alex sent Thunderhawk roaring down the street.
Calhoun fell behind the other three. A wave of dizziness hit him and he was forced to stop and lean against a wall until it passed. He was about to try to catch up to the others, when he heard a roar up over his head and looked up to see a flying lavender and green sports car dive at him. The backwash tumbled him into the street.
The purple car turned and landed. He could see the driver was Vanessa, and for a moment he feared she meant to run him over.
She didn't have anything that pleasant in mind. "Whip, on!" The whiplike energy beam whirled around Calhoun's shoulders and Vanessa drove on, dragging the architect of her problems behind her.
She didn't see the ax-head come flying out of the night, as if thrown by invisible hands. The first inkling she had that something was wrong was when her left front tire parted company with her left front wheel. With Vanessa's attention distracted, Whip vanished. Calhoun continued rolling for a few moments, then managed to get to his feet and stagger into the abandoned building he had leaned against.
Jacques didn't dare call out for fear that Venom would hear him. So he ducked down an alley, removed Mirage and stuffed the invisibility mask into the duffle bag with the hatbox. He went to find Calhoun, but found himself confronted with the two Canadian goons. He turned the other way, and found Switchblade hovering there. Mayhem turned on his searchlights to illuminate the scene for his hired leg-breakers.
"Get him!" roared Mayhem from the safety of the unfriendly skies.
The two goons moved in pulling an assortment of blunt and sharp instruments from their shirts as they did so.
Jacques was always good in his martial arts class, but he really wasn't used to street fights. He had a feeling there was considerable difference when there were no rules. He wished he'd been able to recover his ax head. He also wished he hadn't taken the mask off. Then he recalled a weapon that just might get him out of this.
The muscle men hesitated when their victim reached into his pocket and pulled out his hand clenched into a fist. Then Jacques threw approximately six months pay into the alley between himself and his attackers.
Reacting automatically, that is to say, without thinking, the thugs dropped their weapons and grabbed for the colorful Canadian currency.
Jacques leaped to the attack. The first thug looked up to have the sturdy sole of a sturdy shoe catch him in the jaw and knock him out of the fight. The second thug leaped to his feet, only to have Jacques kick his legs out from under him. As the thug's jaw descended, Jacques' fists ascended. Fists and jaw intersected, much to the jaw's detriment, and the second thug was put out of the fight.
Mayhem growled over the loudspeaker and fired his laser canons. "Deal with that, Capt. Canuck!" Mayhem snarled.
The lasers went past Jacques ear and blew a hole in the wall and Switchblade came down low for the kill. There was nowhere to run, so Jacques wheeled around to face Mayhem. In a gesture of defiance, he threw his duffle bag at the hovering Switchblade.
Memories of losing to a pizza truck surfaced in Mayhem's mind and he involuntarily flinched away. The astonished lumberjack absently caught his "missile" and watched as Mayhem dodged, overcorrected, bounced into a building, overcorrected again, and crashed into the street.
Then Jacques remembered Calhoun and continued his search for him.
Mayhem crawled out of Switchblade, saw the fuel tank had ruptured and his prey had vanished. He swore luridly, and returned to their headquarters. He was met halfway by an extremely dirty Nash Gorey, who had fetched Outlaw after digging himself free.
Mayhem climbed in, changed his damaged, acid spitting Viper mask for the grabbing Python mask that was kept in the tanker and swore vengeance on the next thing that crossed his path.
When Vanessa recovered consciousness, she crawled out of Manta and wondered what had hit her. She could see that her tire was shredded, but she couldn't find the cause. The red-haired Venom agent heard Outlaw and went to join it. Unfortunately for her, this made her the first thing to cross Mayhem's path.
"Python, ON!"
Coils of energy rolled out of Python's faceplate and entrapped the furious female, giving her a taste of her own medicine. Mayhem dragged her into the tanker and dumped her in the rear.
"What'd you do that for?" sputtered Warfield.
"Because I felt like it," snarled Mayhem. "Do you have any other stupid questions?"
If Vanessa did, she kept them to herself.
Calhoun reeled into the building and sat down heavily until he caught his second wind. He stretched experimentally. Nothing was broken, but he was going to be as purple as Vanessa's car in the morning. Burns stretched a little more and decided he could still move with something that resembled speed, and cautiously exited out a door on the opposite side from where he 'd came in. He heard another engine roar up behind him. He dove back inside and slammed the door just as a flat, nasal voice barked out:
"Stiletto, FIRE!" there was a noise like hail hitting the roof, and a multitude of sharp little points sprang through the closed door.
Then the door was blasted open by a burst of red light. Calhoun turned and ran up the stairs to the second floor. Rax revved up his motorcycle and followed. He figured this would be his kind of fight, where he had all the advantages.
Calhoun reached the top of the stairs just as Rax started up them. Calhoun Burns liked to think of himself as a calm, rational man, but everybody had a limit. He decided that it was better to go down fighting, so he dove head first down the staircase and into the pursuing Rax. The motorcycle continued up for a few stairs, then turned and crashed through the bannister. Calhoun and Rax went thumping down the stairs and crashed into the far wall. Calhoun rolled free and started to get to his feet when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
Before he could react, a friendly voice said: "So, mon ami, you could not wait for the cavalry?"
Calhoun thought of all the expensive horses on his farm and grinned. "My friend, where I come from, I am the cavalry." Calhoun looked around, "Where are Scott and T-Bob?"
"I sent them to get help when I came back for you…" Jacques said.
Rax started to stir.
"And I think we should rejoin them." Jacques finished. He helped Calhoun to his feet. Calhoun tested his legs and was somewhat surprised to discover they would work without quivering. They went outside, they could hear engines nearby and guessed it was Venom looking for them.
"It would be best if we split up," said Calhoun.
"Are you sure you'll be all right?" Jacques asked with concern.
"I will be as long as I keep moving," Calhoun assured him. Calhoun headed in the direction Scott had taken, and Jacques headed for the only place around the area where there might be a working telephone, the Venom headquarters.
The weary architect paused on the next block to get his third or fourth wind, then hurried down the street and was actually picking up speed when a grey-clad, grey-helmeted man stepped out from an alley directly into his path.
Snarling, Calhoun dropped his shoulder and charged forward, ramming into the masked man and bowling him over. The architect sprinted madly for the safety of the alley. He didn't care to act as target anymore.
Matt landed flat on his sit-upon in the gutter and trained Spectrum at the fleeing figure, assuming that anyone who sacked him was on the opposing team.
"Dad! No! That's Calhoun!" Scott shouted from the back seat of Thunderhawk.
"Huh?" said Matt wittily. "Then why…? Of course, he has no way of knowing we're the good guys."
Alex pulled up beside his fellow crusader and hopped out the driver's seat.
"Then I think it's time to let our thoroughbred architect know that some of the masks are on his side," Alex declared. "Jackrabbit, ON!"
The red-bearded scientist floated off in the direction that Burns had gone, and Matt followed in Thunderhawk.
Calhoun ducked around the building and refound Sly Rax.
Rax was extremely ticked, and he was glad for a chance to demonstrate it. He revved up Piranha and charged.
"Stiletto, fire!"
His target disappeared.
Before Rax could adjust to the situation, a gaudy sports car flew around the corner and tried to eat him.
Rax and Piranha crashed for the second time that battle. When Rax regained his equilibrium, there was no one in sight. He tried to restart Piranha. His hastily repaired vehicle got its back up, and refused to have anything more to do with this maniac. Rax threw down the bike in disgust and ran into the street.
He flagged down Outlaw, with Gorey, Mayhem, and Warfield in it. They could hear sirens in the distance.
"Let's get out of here," Mayhem ordered.
Rax wondered if Mayhem would believe his report, he didn't think so. He was right.
Scott couldn't believe his dad's mask was imitating a police siren.
"Oh, radical!" he enthused. After all, anything his father did was right and proper and fair game for Scott to try to imitate.
The expressionless visor looked at him, and his father's voice said in bemusement: "Thanks, I think. Spectrum, Off.
Alex floated up with Burns firmly in hand.
When Calhoun had found himself flying, he had gone limp from surprise. This suited Alex just fine; he'd had enough of hand-to-hand combat when he met Buddy Hawks. He set Calhoun down gently, and floated down to a perfect two point landing beside him.
Matt studied the horse-breeder with interest. According to the data he got from the computer, Calhoun was several years younger than Matt, but just now he looked older. He was average height, but his slender build made him seem taller. The illusion of height was aided by the erect way Calhoun carried himself, in spite of his weariness.
Calhoun looked over his two rescuers carefully, a trifle warily. Both were taller than he. The grey-clad one with wide shoulders and narrow waist could have been almost any age. The flying one with the red-beard had the thickened waist and slightly stooped shoulders that Calhoun associated with middle age. However, the man's grip had been strong, and Calhoun didn't want to have to fight him. Before Calhoun could say anything, Scott and T-Bob came tumbling out of Thunderhawk and threw themselves at the architect.
'Calhoun, you're all right!" both said excitedly.
Calhoun staggered under the impact. "I do seem to be in one piece," he said, hugging both boy and robot. "Are you two unhurt?"
"Yeah, sure, where's Jacques?" Scott asked somewhat breathlessly.
"I am here," Jacques said. He had seen Venom leaving and heard the sirens, so he came to investigate.
The four ex-prisoners spent a few minutes assuring each other that they were all right, then turned to the cavalry.
Since not even the cowardly T-Bob seemed to find the masked rescuers threatening, Calhoun swallowed his misgivings and helped the other three give a report on the night's activities. Jacques told what he'd been doing since he parted from Calhoun. "I figured that Venom would not look for us back in their own hide-out, and I assumed they had a telephone. I stopped to tie up the two ravisseurs I had left in the alley."
"What did you tie them up with?" T-Bob wanted to know.
"Vanessa's seat belt. I also recovered the money…" here Jacques paused, he was fairly sure it was safe to talk in front of Calhoun, but he didn't know how Matt felt about it. So instead of giving the money back to Trakker he stuffed the cash into T-Bob's cache. He didn't want to carry such a dangerous weapon around anymore. Then he continued. "I even found my ax. I saw the tanker that had kidnapped us leave the hideout, but I couldn't get in to look for a telephone."
"The doors were locked?" Alex guessed.
"The floor was gone," Jacques explained. "I then heard sirens, and came here."
After hearing the reports, Matt called Duane in Washington, D.C., and asked him to call the local authorities. The MASK leader figured that if the PNA's chief of security vouched for them, they would be saved a lot of awkward explanations. The theory seemed to hold water, since the Vancouver policemen who showed up acted like they worked with masked men in flying cars every day. The trio of human captives gave a condensed version of their report to the police. Matt also added his opinion that the Meyer's assistant (who had leased the building) was involved in the kidnapping, and the contractor was only guilty of poor judgment in hiring assistants.
This surprised Burns, then he realized he never did see who had kidnapped him. This whole affair was beyond him he decided and he looked around for someplace to sit down. The grey-clad driver invited him to take a seat in the improbably colored sports car.
Jacques, Alex and Scott went to show the policemen to the thugs in the alley. Matt went over to speak to Calhoun. The architect was sitting in the passenger seat of Thunderhawk, his arms resting on the dashboard, and his face buried in his arms. His clothes were ruined, and there were bruises and abrasions on his face and hands. Matt cursed Venom in his mind. It was always the innocents who suffered the most in their schemes.
"Mr. Burns? Do you need a doctor?" Matt asked worriedly.
Calhoun looked up and smiled wanly. "No, I don't think so, thank you." Calhoun paused, "I'd like to apologize for running into you."
Matt waved off the apology, "You could hardly be expected to know that I was on your side."
Calhoun shook his head sadly, "I never realized I could panic like that."
"I've always respected a man who knew when to panic," Matt stated mildly.
Calhoun looked less haggard at the joke, and even managed a smile.
"May I offer you a lift to your hotel?" Matt asked, "I'm sure if the police have any more questions for you, they'll give you a call."
"Thank you," Calhoun. "I would appreciate it."
Matt told the remaining policeman where they were going, and then they drove off.
"I'm staying at the Pagebrook," Calhoun thought to mention.
"I know," Matt admitted. "We saw them kidnap you in front of the hotel."
"I see," Calhoun looked at Trakker curiously. "The police seemed to know who you were, even if I don't," he hinted mildly.
"The PNA briefed them on us," Matt said. "We're the new, so I'm not surprised you haven't heard of us. We call ourselves MASK."
"And you're after Venom," it was a statement, not a question.
"Yes," Matt replied. "We wanted to prevent Mayhem and company from hurting anyone." He looked at Calhoun's bruised face and sighed. "It looks as though we weren't very successful."
"It's hardly your fault … " protested Calhoun.
"But I still feel responsible," Matt, the worrier, argued. "Are you sure I can't get you a doctor or something?"
Calhoun shook his head, "Thank you, but I'll be fine. I am not exactly fragile."
"So I noticed. You did a good job back there in escaping."
"It was a team effort," Calhoun said.
"But you got things started," Matt pointed out. "I wish there was some way I could repay you.
"There is something I would like… " Calhoun paused, uncertain how to phrase his request.
"Go on," Matt prompted, "I'll do anything within reason." He stopped at a signal and looked at his passenger.
"I'm not sure how reasonable it is… " Calhoun paused again. Oh, well, he told himself. You've opened your mouth, so you might as well put your foot in it. Calhoun looked squarely in his own reflection in Spectrum's visor.
"I want to join MASK," he said simply.
"WHAT !?" after starting his own superhero group, Matt figured that he had become shockproof. He'd figured wrong.
"But… but… you don't know what you'd be letting yourself in for."
"I beg to differ," Calhoun said calmly. He indicated his lumps and scrapes. "I know exactly what I'd be getting into."
Matt recovered his equilibrium and started playing devil's advocate.
"But you don't know who we are," Matt pointed out as the light changed and he started the car moving again.
Calhoun looked straight ahead, "I don't have to know who you are, I know what you are and what you plan to do. Also, I know what Venom is, and what they planned to do, and how many people could have been hurt or killed. Most of all, I know who I am and what I can do. And I cannot just go back to business as usual."
"I see," Matt pondered the matter until they reached the Pagebrook. As he drove, he made a slight adjustment to the car's computer. Then he reached his decision. "Mask off," he said firmly.
Calhoun looked over in surprise at this cryptic response. The computer, obeying the order, activated a waldo behind the seat and removed Spectrum from Matt's head.
The face was familiar, but Calhoun couldn't place it for a moment, then he remembered his first meeting with Scott a long fourteen hours ago. He compared Matt's blond, square-jawed face to the smaller, brown-haired version he'd grown used to on Scott, and the relation became obvious. "Matt Trakker!?" he gawped.
Matt controlled his urge to laugh. This was the second time someone had been more astonished at meeting Matt Trakker than at fancy masks and flying cars. Sometimes his own reputation really amazed him.
"I guess that's why Scott knew so much about Venom," Calhoun mused. Then another thought hit him. "Does this mean I'm on the team?"
"If that's what you want," Matt said mildly. "In fact, I think I have just the mask for you, in case you want to cut Vanessa Warfield down to size if you should meet her again."
"I hate to use violence against a woman," Calhoun said hesitantly. "Even if she is definitely not a lady."
"That's why this mask is perfect," Matt explained. "It is not violent at all, I call it 'Gulliver'. I'll explain more about it in the morning."
"I'll see you then," Calhoun said. He took his leave, pondering the implications of a mask called 'Gulliver'. He combined the name with Matt's cryptic comment about cutting Warfield down to size and grinned.
Matt checked the computer and found that he had recorded enough of Calhoun's voice to program the Gulliver mask to understand the southerner. He wasn't about to make the same mistake with Calhoun that he had with Dusty.
Scott slept late the next morning.
"Well, good afternoon," Alex said. "Ready for lunch?"
Scott blinked at his dad's best friend. Alex seemed amused at something. It couldn't be how late Scott slept, since Alex was still in his pajamas and a robe himself.
"Hi, Alex," Scott, "What about breakfast?"
"Compromise and call it 'brunch'," Scott's father said as he came into the sitting room.
There was a note to Matt's voice that Scott didn't like.
"Is something wrong?" he asked cautiously.
Matt cocked his head and studied the ten-year-old like he had just met him. T-Bob came out of Scott's room, took one look at Matt and started to retreat. "Oh, no you don't," Matt said firmly. "I would appreciate it if one of you would be so kind as to explain why Can-Am Guided Tours would call me about a bus?"
"Bus? What bus?"
"The one you were supposed to be on when you met Calhoun," Matt elaborated.
"Oh, yeah," Scott said shuffling his feet uneasily. "That bus."
As Scott tried to explain why T-Bob decided to take up yodeling on the highway, Alex finished off the pancakes and sausages, ordered another round from room service, and went to his room to get dressed and make some phone calls.
"Boulder Hill Gas Station," snarled the voice with enough heat to melt the phone lines and scorch Alex's eardrum.
Alex was a little taken aback. Although Buddy was supposed to keep people away from the gas station, he was usually subtler about it. Too much rudeness attracted attention. So he got rid of the unwanted customers by making the customers so uncomfortable and bored they preferred to wait elsewhere. As Buddy never had the needed part 'on hand', he could dump… er… drop the unwanted customer off in town where he, or she, could wait in more comfort. This really increased business for the local taxi service (to get them back to the gas station), and the local eateries, especially Buddy's favorite pizza parlor.
"Sector here," Alex said, wonderingly, "My aren't we chipper this morning?"
Buddy made a grumbling noise, "Sector, my back hurts, my leg hurts and my hands hurt, if you haven't anything better to do than run up long distance charges, why don't you try dial-a-joke."
Alex figured out the cause for Buddy's foul temper and laughed in the mouthpiece, "Tried to ride Condor again, did you? Break anything?"
"No," Buddy sighed. "Just severely bruised my ego, among other things. I thought I had it that time."
"Well, nobody's perfect," Alex said soothingly.
"But I think I've got its problem figured out," Buddy said.
"Oh, and what's wrong with it?"
"It hates me," Buddy declared, then he changed the subject. "What'd you call for, 'old chap'? Or did you just want to hear my cheerful voice?"
"I don't believe in miracles," Alex said tartly. "I just thought you ought to be informed on our activities."
Alex gave a very condensed report on the double kidnappings and "the innocent by-stander's" request to join.
"Hmm, can't blame him." Buddy said casually, masking his concern at Scott's close call with an air of indifference. "The innocent by-standers are in the most danger. What did the dude you went to interview have to say? Is he in or out?"
Buddy knew the reasons they had gone up to Vancouver, though he didn't know any details. He was to well trained to ask for information he didn't need to know, but he was too nosy not to fish for a little gossip.
"He hasn't said yet, we're going to meet him after Matt pays for that bus. Did we get any calls from Holcomb?"
"Bus? What bus?" Buddy asked.
"Never mind about the ruddy bus. What about Holcomb?"
"Who? Oh, yeah, you mean that 'one more test' dude in New York?"
"Yes, that's the one."
"Yeah, he called," Buddy drawled in amusement. "He said your hat was ready. You can pick it up as soon as he runs a 'few more tests' on it."
"Excellent," Alex hung up before the startled mechanic could ask any more questions.
Buddy looked at the receiver in disgust, then dialed Pronto Pizza to get a nice, soothing pizza to settle his nerves.
Matt paid for the bus and made a few calls from Thunderhawk. When he got back to the suite, he found the red-bearded scientist in deep discussion with Calhoun and Jacques.
"Hello, Matt," Alex said. "I figured there was no use in trying to keep Jacques' and Calhoun's identities secret from each other."
Matt nodded. "Makes sense," the blond turned towards Jacques. "Does this mean you'll be joining us?"
"Oui," Jacques said. "I find making Venom very unhappy has become very important to me."
"I agree," Calhoun said drily.
Matt looked Calhoun over carefully, but aside from his collection of bruises, Calhoun seemed to be okay.
"What happened to my kidnappers?" Calhoun asked.
"Well the goons that Jacques captured talked, and I was right. It was Morton who was behind your kidnapping. I suspected as much when I saw who had rented the property that Venom was using. Incidentally, you four solved a great debate about whether or not to tear that place down."
"Did they catch Morton?" Scott asked eagerly.
"Hmm?" Matt asked absently as he studied the table that everyone else was seated around. There were several models sitting out, plus the plans for Boulder Mountain.
Matt collected his thoughts and answered his son. "Yes, they picked up Morton this morning. He isn't talking, but there is sufficient evidence against him. The contractor Meyer was extremely embarrassed about having one of his trusted employees put one over on him. I doubt if Meyer will give Calhoun any more trouble about that foundation."
"That's good," Calhoun said in relief. "I suppose I shall have to testify?"
"Afraid so," Matt said. "All of you will; the PNA will be in touch with you about when the court dates."
Matt cocked his head at the table. "Redecorating, gentlemen?"
"Something like that," Alex said mildly. "I'll let you know as soon as we're sure we can pull it off."
To change the subject, Jacques picked up one of the models and held it up for inspection. It seemed to be just a van equipped for off road travel. But when the right buttons were pushed, it split in half to reveal a rising gun turret.
"I like this vehicle, Matt," Jacques said. "If no one else has claimed it, I would like to use it."
"Volcano Van was made for you, Jacques," Matt said. "How about you, Calhoun? Any choices? Can you fly a chopper?"
Calhoun shook his head. "I can fly an airplane, but not a helicopter."
"Well, I'm sure we can find something for you. Our Corvette cum diving seaplane, perhaps. In the meantime, gentlemen and robot, can I interest anybody in some lunch?"
Everyone was interested in lunch.
.
.
.
The woman stood in an alley in New York City and surveyed the scene casually. She always had believed in keeping things tidy.
"Think we should call the police?"
"Don't bother, Bill," the woman smiled at her taller companion. She looked off in the direction that the gang members had fled. "They're long gone."
Another man came up, both men had signs of a fight on them, the woman was untouched.
"Gloria," said the second man, "the victim ducked out the back."
Gloria shrugged, "Don't worry about it, Johnny. He probably didn't want his wife asking what he was doing in the red light district."
She gestured back to her studio across the street, "Shall we return to your lessons, students? Or do you think one little mugging is sufficient for today?"
Her two students laughed.
"I think we should quit while we're ahead," Johnny said.
"Definitely," Bill agreed. "Let's get something to eat." He looked at the woman with interest. "Do you do this sort of thing often, Gloria?"
"Sure," Gloria laughed. "A girl's got to get her kicks somehow."
In the next episode:
Dusty meets trouble in his usual headlong fashion,
Matt doctors up the roster,
And a Kung-Fu instructor jumps in
"Just For Kicks"
A/N: Bet you can guess who's coming next.