Back at the Villains' hideout, the band of misfits gathered around for a meeting.
"I'm sick, and tired of our plans always backfiring on us!" shouted Bison, "I'll never become a model for Shadaloo Doll Magazine, without the powers of the Cogfinity Stones!"
"Perhaps that's for the best, your big tough sweatyness!" replied N. Tropy.
"I don't remember asking you!" responded Bison, "Besides, I'll go with Vile's proposition."
"Well," said Vile, sipping his oil, "How are you punks willing to make some real dough?"
"But who do we have to hunt down?" asked Pete.
"Even better!" answered Vile, "My boss has a trio of Mavericks for my proposition."
"Now you're speaking my language, young man!" said Claudia.
"But I must warn you guys," continued Vile, "One of them is a bit of a creep, and the large, round one has a habit of…"
"No need for that," interrupted Maleficent, "GIVE US GOONS, NOT ADVICE!"
"Fine!" sighed Vile, putting his helmet on, "They're already part of my plan anyways."
At a mall in East Rutherford, New Jersey, Simon was playing a game of Space Invaders. Once he received the new high score, he walked off, blowing bubbles out of his pipe all the way to the parking lot to wait for a ride. When he noticed a truck with handle bars on the back of the trailer, he immediately hopped on and grabbed on to it.
Meanwhile, in a cuddy boat, 3 mavericks called the "X Hunters", Serges, the creepy old coot, Violen, the big round muscle of the group, and Agile, the tall and responsible of the team, were chilling when Vile entered.
"Alright you rambunctious misfits," said Vile, "You've been assigned a mission."
"YOU PICKED THE WRONG HOUSE FOOL!" shouted Violen swinging a bat at the maverick.
"Relax Violen," replied Vile "it's me, Vile!"
"Vile," wondered Violen, "ooooh, my brother from another mother! Wassup? Hey kid, you okay boy?!"
"More tough than ever," said Vile.
"You know Vile," wondered Violen, "have you ever considered gettin' two flame throwers for hands, that way you won't be able to use the restroom without burnin' the lower half of' your body?"
"Come on, you big, round pile of junk." protested Vile, "Take this more seriously!"
"If you want to talk about junk, take it up with' to the king of creepy old men!" said Violen, "He has not one, but TWO criminal records!"
"Did you call?" asked Serges.
"Was I talking to you?" asked Violen.
"No." said Serges.
"There you go, Grand Poo Poo!" put in Agile.
"Look guys, I came here to pick you guys up, not to joke around!" said Vile, "I have a plane that departs at midnight! We meet near that Gas Station and get out of here!"
"Alright smart guy," replied Agile, "but how will we get the others to join? They don't seem to be motivated!"
"Well, I do have some magazines featuring unspeakable things, and a get out of jail free card." answered Vile.
"What are we waiting for?" asked Serges, "Let's go!"
So Vile led the X-Hunters out to his jet and back to the base.
Back in New York, Simon was close to entering his office, when he received a call on his flip phone. He answered it, and it was Foxy on the phone, telling him that a new donut shop had opened near the FAO Schwarz store in Rockefeller Center and was giving out free donuts to the first 1,050 customers. Simon denied the offer on the count of work being on the table. He immediately opened the door and entered, only to find that Jeanette was taking care of his office during his business trip.
"Jeanette, what are you doing here?" asked Simon.
"I'm just looking over your office." said Jeanette, "Someone's gotta take care of it while you're away on a business trip."
"You mean let that apple red rat run this place to the ground?!" questioned a stressed out Simon."
"What do you mean by rat?" wondered Jeanette.
"On my business trip, I reunited with my brothers," replied Simon, "But they were much worse than before!"
"Simon," Jeanette said in concern, "It sounds like you're burning out!"
"DON'T TRY TO CHANGE THE TOPIC, JEANETTE!" shouted Simon, "And what do you mean by burning out?!"
"For one," explained Jeanette in concern, "you often get stressed out, you rarely take breaks, you eat very little, and you're a little too focussed on your work!"
"It pays the bills, Jeanette!" said Simon sternly, "if my clients don't constantly cheat me out of the money they owe me! Besides, I can't afford to laze around on a job like this."
"But don't you think that sometimes you deserve a break, a vacation, or even a day off every once in a while just so you don't end up working yourself to the point of complete stress, anxiety and exhaustion?!" asked Jeanette, "I mean what have you got to lose?"
"My paycheck, my sanity, my dignity, my well being!" said Simon.
"If you don't want to lose your well being," replied Jeanette, "then have a look at this note that Alvin wrote for you back in 1988! I found it in the attic while I was cleaning it up."
Once Jeanette left Simon's office, Simon took Jeanette's words and read the note. The note may have been old, and wrinkly, but the words were clear. Upon reading the writing, the letter talked about how Alvin ended their 5 year comeback. Simon learned that Alvin tried to negotiate with the Chipmunks' agent about giving Simon an increase in his pay, but no dice. Not only did the agent deny him the idea, but also tried to convince Alvin to give his brothers a 90% pay decrease and that he should let the marketing be centered solely on him. With Alvin seeing his brothers with no room for fame or recognition with such restrictions, he did the only thing he could, and stepped away from the spotlight… again.
After reading the letter, Simon felt really stupid, the thought that the brother he despised for all those years only ended the show due to a force that wasn't under his control. This inevitably put the blue clad genius in a fit of tears and in a moment of shame and a loss of self respect.
The next morning, Simon felt much worse. Now crying in his sleep, he was but a broken shell of who he once was. When he finally tried to lift his head off his desk, he was swiftly hit by a frying pan, knocking him out cold, only to have a mysterious figure in a brown cloak drag his unconscious body.
- To Be Continued