Author's Notes: Alright, I'll admit it, this one's kind of cheating. This isn't so much a "how it should have ended" as much as it is a fun scene of evil family bonding in-between. I thought about making this its own thing in a set of drabbles or something, but in the end, I decided its place was best here.
Chapter 9
The Rowdyruff Boys
A blinding surge of white light emanated from the street, enveloping the surroundings as the girls crashed back into the city of Townsville, courtesy of the Rowdyruff Boys' attack. The scene resembled the aftermath of a devastating nuclear strike, shrouded in a deafening silence that caused people to recoil and shield their eyes. As the brilliance subsided, an eerie stillness settled in, resembling a solemn funeral procession, while the boys floated triumphantly overhead, wearing smug and contented expressions. It appeared as though the girls' fate had been sealed...forever.
"Well, that cares of them," Brick said smugly.
Butch then suggested, "Let's go back to Mojo's pad and celebrate!"
And without further ado, the boys took off.
Following their apparent victory over the Powerpuff Girls, the Rowdyruff Boys made their way back to Mojo's domed observatory atop a volcano, intending to revel in their triumph. They caught Mojo off guard by surprising him from behind and drenching him with a shower of Gatorade. The monkey emitted a startled yelp at the unexpected prank, but soon burst into laughter, appreciating his creations' sense of humor. The boys joined in the mirth, pointing at Mojo and reveling in the moment.
"Oh, you guys!" Mojo chuckled fondly.
A smug grin stretched across Brick's face as he taunted Mojo, his voice oozing with self-satisfaction. "So, whaddya think of that, Pops?"
"I'm so proud of you boys!" Mojo beamed with parental pride. "You disposed of those Powerpuff Pests as if they were mere flies!"
The moment called for celebration, and Mojo swiftly retrieved his camera, eager to capture the essence of this monumental occasion. Click after click, he immortalized his boys at the table, each holding up gleaming cups filled with the bubbly elixir of Welch's sparkling grape juice wine. One snapshot seized Boomer in a fit of laughter, the wine spurting out of his nose in a comical spectacle. The others pointed and teased, their raucous jeers preserved in that frozen frame of time.
Pausing to reload the film, Mojo lined up another shot. "Alright boys, now for this one..."
But before he could click the shutter, a weary Boomer let out an exaggerated whine, "No more photos!"
Seeing his brother's dramatic outburst, Brick's face twisted into an irritated scowl. Rising from his chair, he shouted "Alright banana breath, you take one more crummy picture and I'm gonna shove that camera down your throat!"
The final image captured on film was of an enraged Brick zooming toward the camera before it was knocked to the ground, the footage turning to fuzzy static.
The garbled footage finally regained clarity as Mojo set up a fresh camera on a sturdy tripod, meticulously tweaking its angle to ensure the frame was level. He stepped back to review his work, then joined his moping creations on the couch, the velvet cushions sinking under their collective weight.
"OK boys, this is the final picture, I promise," Mojo assured them.
"Yeah, right," Butch grumbled skeptically, slouching down and propping his fist against his cheek.
"Let's make this a nice family portrait," Mojo suggested eagerly.
At the word "family," Butch made retching noises, eliciting snickers from his brothers.
"Alright my sons, are we ready?" Mojo asked as the timer ticked down.
He hoisted a disgruntled Brick onto his lap while Butch and Boomer squeezed in on either side.
As the final moments approached, Mojo drew his other two sons even closer, enveloping them in a warm embrace. "Say cheese!" he exclaimed, flashing his sharp, primate teeth in a wide grin, his pride radiating through every fiber of his being.
At that moment, the camera flashed a brilliant white, immortalizing the unlikely family portrait: Butch had stretched his mouth wide with his fingers, crossing his eyes comically. Boomer beamed wholesomely at the lens. Brick sat primly on Mojo's lap with a pleasant smile, hands folded, but his pleased expression morphed into a devious smirk as he drove a sharp elbow into Mojo's chin. The camera captured the pained surprise on Mojo's face at the impact, while Brick's smile became smugly satisfied.