Link has been reestablished. Now resuming transmission.

five years ago

It was a warm, inviting Saturday morning because all the best things happen on a Saturday morning. It meant sleeping in at the end of the standard work-week (if you were lucky), it meant endless bowls of Rainbow Munchies while watching new episodes of Yipper Squadron Force. It meant the start of the weekend, that glorious time of the week every single kid looked forward to the world over.

For sector V, however, this particular Saturday was extra special.

In the towering heights of their treehouse, sheltered from the blistering sun with layer upon layer of evergreen leaves and canopy, three children stood waiting in a large corridor; two boys and a girl. The girl, cool and laid back as ever, was perched on a low-hanging branch, leisurely flipping through Hip Preteen Weekly to pass the time.

The two boys were doing something a bit more involved.

"Careful back there!" Nigel fussed. The commander of the team stood on a stool, arms spread parallel to the floor. He was dressed to the nines; garbed in his ceremonial sector commander dress blues. The crisp beige material hugged his torso, and the feather of the cap dangled inward, tickling his nose. His brows crinkled in irritation. "Everything has to be presentable, so take extra care to—OW! Watch it!"

"Well, sooorrr—ry!" Hoagie grumbled, leaning away from Nigel, some sowing pins tucked between his lips as his fingers pinched a loose thread. "Wouldn't be such a problem if your butt wasn't so big."

Nigel looked scandalized. "My butt is not that big!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say," Hoagie mumbled, sowing up a hole in Nigel's pants. "Now hold still."

"I am holding still."

"Well, hold still-er!"

"Would you two chill out?" Abby remarked, she lowered her magazine to peer down at them. "Already enough going on without you getting all worked up."

Nigel's hands went to his hips, leaning forward with a smidgen of sass in his posture (despite Hoagie's protests behind him). "So sorry I'm trying to make a firm first impression and set a good example for my team, Numbuh 5."

Abby lazily arched a brow. "The only example you're setting is how to look like a dork."

"I do not look like a dork. I look like a very, professional sector leader." Nigel blew a raspberry, crossing his arms and looking away. "At least some of us are taking this seriously and dressing up."

Abby spread her arms, hands folding in to highlight her trademark day-to-day style. "Baby, when you look this good, you ain't gotta dress up."

"Sounds like a loophole to stay causal and skirt dress code to me."

Hoagie seemed primed to explode. "Nigel, I swear if you don't hold still—"

"Guuuuuys, I'm tired," Wally whined from across the hall. "Why we gotta do all this fuss anyway?"

"It's a very important day, Numbuh 4," Nigel explained. "This will be the very first litter hamsters born under the new, reinstated sector V." He straightened his posture, his expression shifting to one of seriousness as he continued. "And as tradition dictates, it's crucial that we properly welcome our newest recruits. It's for good luck."

Hoagie finally managed to secure the loose thread, stepping back to admire his handiwork. "There! Good as new."

Nigel nodded in approval before turning his attention to Abby. "Numbuh 5, you remembered to prepare the ceremonial blankey, correct?"

Abby grinned, folding her magazine neatly and setting it aside. She reached under the branch, unfurling a hemstitched rainbow pattern blanket. "Done and done, baby."

Hopping off the stool, Nigel sauntered up and ran his fingers through the material. Smiling satisfied, he turned in Wally's direction. "And Numbuh 4, make sure to keep running."

"This is so stupid," Wally fumed. The boy was sprinting in a giant hamster wheel, dozens of cables plugged into a generator and feeding back to the central power core. He panted like a dog, slowing to take a quick sip from the giant sipper bottle. Thirst quenched, he scowled at his so-called 'friends' who put him up to this. "Why aren't the mangy hamsters doing this? It's their cruddy job!"

"They're taking the day off to greet the new babies," Hoagie answered. He looked to his left and grinned. "Look at 'em; they're excited!"

Huddled around the door and window of the infirmary were thousands of hamsters. They formed a squeaking, fluffy wall as they tried to look through the window to get a sneak peek at the newborns.

Hoagie walked up to Wally, fishing in his pocket for a protein bar. He unraveled the snack and held it up to his best buddy. "So, someone's gotta keep backup power going in case of an emergency."

Wally huffed but took a bite of the bar anyway. Mouth full, he grumbled. "But why does it hafta be me?"

Nigel crossed his arms. "You drew the short straw."

"There was only one straw. AND YOU MADE ME GO FIRST!"

"And that's what you get for trying to cheat at rock paper scissors."

"I keep tellin' ya, lasers should count!"

"Alright, alright, that's enough," Abby said, jumping down with the blanket tucked under one arm while the other waved her hand in a pacifying manner. She spared Wally a look. "Ya get first pick of the next ice cream shipment for doing this, so suck it up. 'Sides, ya only gotta hold out 'til the babies are born."

"And how long is that gonna take, Miss-Know-it-All?"

Abby shrugged. Behind her, Hoagie mulled it over, stroking his chin. "Hmm, hard to say, pal. Don't know the ins and outs of hamster labor, but I've heard it could take hours. Heck, maybe even days."

Wally paled. "Days!?"

"THEY'RE HERE!"

The excited squeal was their only warning. Not even a second later, the door of the infirmary burst open, hamsters flying everywhere, as energetic Kuki bounced off the walls before landing smack dab in the middle of her friends.

"They're here, they're here, they're heerrrreeee!" she sang merrily. She was dressed in her nurse uniform, but it might as well have been a dress for how much she fluttered about. She took Nigel's hand, the boy yelping in protest as she swung him around gleefully. She released him mid-spin, Nigel crashing somewhere off to the side as Kuki jittered with unbridled elation. "They're so cute, and adorable, and precious, and beautiful—aayyyyyyyyieeeee!"

Kuki sprinted in place, her Mary Janes kicking up dust and splinters with her never-ending supply of energy. When she couldn't stand it any longer, she giggled, grabbing Abby and Hoagie by the wrist and whisking them away. "C'mon, c'mon! You gotta meet them!"

Nigel groaned from his heap on the floor, the world still spinning. The breath rushed from his lungs as Kuki stamped over him without care, rushing back into the delivery room. Spluttering, he got to his feet and scrambled after them. "Hey! Wait for me!"

"Finally!" Wally sighed, slowing to a jog.

"Numbuh 4! Keep running!"

"SERIOUSLY?"

Inside the nursery, the children gingerly stepped over celebrating hamsters—a few of them patting Mr. Poofy-Doofy on the back and passing him cigars—to make their way to the nesting area. This area of the treehouse had a comforting glow to it, the bark a bit softer and the sunlight trickling in gently through the leaves.

Mrs. Poofy-Doofy lay in her nest, exhausted, but proud. Not far away, sleeping in Hoagie's patented 2x4 hamster incubator, were a group of wiggling, pink hamster pups.

"Now remember, don't touch them," Kuki informed, voice low and soft as she ushered her friends close. "We have to wait until they open their eyes, or else they won't smell like their mommy anymore. Isn't that right, Mrs. Poofy-Doofy?"

The new mother nodded.

Nigel stepped forth, one hand tucked behind his back. He coughed into the other, clearing his throat, before his hand joined its twin and he stood with exaggerated poise and circumstance. "Greetings, new cadets. I am Numbuh 1, your fearless leader. Know that from this day forth, the power you supply to our treehouse shall stalwart our efforts against the evil adult menace, ensuring a brighter, safer future for kids and hamsters worldwide!"

The babies, fresh and ignorant of the world, simply yawned and continued to wriggle about.

Nigel puffed his cheeks, unimpressed. "Numbuh 3, when will they open their eyes? They need to pay attention to this."

"Hmm, hmm, hmmm," she hummed, swaying on her tippy-toes to get the brain juices flowing. "Weeeeell, it normally takes about fourteen to seventeen days. Then around day eighteen their cute widdle ears will pop up! And then at day twenty—"

Nigel slouched, visibly deflating as his ears dropped. "But I wanted them to see how cool and important I am todaaaaay!"

Abby laughed, rubbing her friend's back. "Ah, chin up, Numbuh 1. Bet you'll get to drill responsibility in their heads in no time."

"Hey, check it out. They look like pigs in a blanket, minus the blanket," Hoagie grinned, smudging his face against the glass of the incubator. "Oh, cool! There's five of them. We could all name one."

"Five?" Kuki blinked. "There should be six."

Hoagie grunted, confused. He squinted his eyes, doing a double-check. Sure enough, there in the corner, was a sixth hamster. This one looked a bit smaller than the others. Probably the runt of the litter if he had to guess. "I found him! I call dibs on naming…"

His words lost their gumption as he stared long and hard at the sixth pup. Something was off. Unlike his brothers and sister, this little guy didn't seem inclined to wiggle. In fact, Hoagie would venture to say he wasn't moving at all…

"N-Numbuh 3!" Hoagie leaped up in a panic, head banging against the overhead lamp. He rubbed at his noggin and teetered back and forth as he frantically gestured to the incubator. "He's not breathing!"

"WHAT!?" Kuki barreled into his side, sending him crashing into an empty medical gunnery. The girl's eyes were wide with fear as she confirmed Hoagie's suspicions. Her face steeled, snapping her head toward Nigel and Abby. "BLANKEY. NOW!"

The two scrambled to action, quickly whipping out the large cotton blanket and clearing a nearby, heated table. Kuki slapped on a pair of medical gloves and opened the incubator. She hesitated, worried about ignoring her own earlier advice. But seeing the little pup make a strangled gasp sealed her decision as she carefully took him and placed him on the blanket.

"Numbuh 5, more blankets. Numbuh 1, first aid sipper." Kuki commanded, using her index fingers to gently press against the pup's chest. The two were gobsmacked at her seriousness, and she growled. "MOVE!"

Her yell snapped them back to reality. Following her orders, they gathered bundles of blankets to provide warmth, and Nigel steadily held the sipper to the babe's mouth, squeezing in time with Kuki's prompts. After half a minute, sweat beaded Nigel's brow as the pup's skin began to darken. "We're losing him!"

Kuki would not lose him. "Numbuh 2, the hamster revivbrillator!"

"On it!" Hoagie went to the storage closet, tossing away all manner of 2x4 gauze, band-aids, and a stray Yipper action figure until he found what he sought. He hefted up a device constructed from an old toaster repainted in vibrant colors, its base housing a network of wires salvaged from discarded electronics, and modified spatulas from an adult-operated kitchen served as its paddles. Hoagie plugged it into the outlet and fed the wire until it reached the makeshift operating table. "We got juice!"

As her teammates looked on with bated breath, Kuki's usual carefree attitude completely faded away, replaced by intense focus. With practiced precision, she adjusted the settings on the makeshift control panel, her fingers flying over salvaged buttons and switches. The revivbrillator hummed to life, its repurposed batteries surging with energy as it prepared to deliver the vital shock needed to jump-start the tiny heart.

With a deep breath, Kuki positioned the modified spatulas over the hamster's chest, her gaze unwavering as she prepared to administer the life-saving jolt. In that moment, all distractions faded away, and Kuki was wholly centered on the task at hand—saving the precious life before her.

And that's when the power went out.

"Ugh," Wally groaned, lying in a slump on the now-still hamster wheel. His poor little body ached in places he didn't even know he had. "Legs…jellified…everything…hurts…"

"Numbuh 4!" Abby screamed from the doorway of the infirmary. "Keep running, now!"

"Can't…run…" he whined. "So…tired…"

"Boy, we're about to lose a hamster! Move!"

"You gotta be pulling my leg," he grumbled, crackling one eye open. They woke him up at the butt-crack of dawn, tricked him into running in a hamster wheel for hours, and now they wanted him to push himself to save a stupid rat? "They're a dime a dozen…we got a buh-million of things."

Abby seethed, nails digging into the door frame. "Numbuh 4!"

"Don't you Numbuh 4 me!" he snapped back. "It's just a stupid pet—"

"WALLY PLEASE!"

He winced, face stricken at Kuki's heartbroken wail. The pure and utter desperation in her plea caused something to stir in the pit of his stomach. It was a gross, nasty, terrible feeling. He did not care for it one bit.

With a resigned sigh, Wally dragged himself to his feet, the exhaustion weighing heavily on his shoulders. But as he imagined Kuki, her eyes pleading with desperation, something stirred deep within him. He couldn't bear to see her so distraught, couldn't stand the thought of letting her down.

"Ah, crud," he muttered under his breath, his resolve hardening. Despite the protest of his aching muscles, he pushed himself forward, every step a battle against the overwhelming fatigue. But with each stride, the wheel creaked and spun, driven by some infectious desire to make Kuki smile.

As he ran, a surge of adrenaline coursed through his veins. With a defiant roar, he kicked into maximum overdrive, the generator roaring to life once more. Electricity crackled through the treehouse, casting a warm glow that illuminated the room.

Back in the nursery, Kuki's heart skipped a beat as the lights flickered back on. Hope surged within her chest as she prepared to deliver the life-saving shock with the revivbrillator. With trembling hands, she pressed the paddles against the tiny hamster's chest, her breath catching in her throat.

And then, as the surge of electricity surged through the tiny body, the room held its breath.

For a heartbeat, time seemed to stand still, the air thick with anticipation.

And then, miraculously, the hamster gasped for air, its tiny chest rising and falling with the rhythm of renewed life. Tears of joy welled up in Kuki's eyes as she collapsed back against the operating table, overwhelmed with emotion. Nigel and Hoagie fell into each other, sagging into the floor in relief.

Abby pumped her fist, turning from the door to yell at Wally. "Attaboy, shorty!"

"Hey! Don't call me—" So caught up in rebutting to Abby's tease, Wally tripped up on his shoelaces. He fell forward, the wheel taking him for a ride before flinging him out and face-first into the wall.

Needless to say, he passed out.

"Wally…"

He groaned, something brushing against his cheek. Where was he? The last thing he remembered was being in that stupid hamster wheel.

"Wally."

That voice…it was the voice of an angel. He wanted to hear it again, and again. On repeat forever and all time.

"Waaaaally."

Slowly, his eyes fluttered open. He hissed, closing them again at the harshness of the light. There was a shuffling of movement, and the lights dimmed as something hovered over his face. The image got a bit clearer and…whoa.

Not only did she sound like an angel, but she looked like one too. The most beautiful-est angel he ever did see, her long raven locks framing and tickling his face like a halo.

He smiled dumbly.

"Wake up, sleepy head!"

Wally gasped, jerking upward in the bed. Kuki leaned away just in time, giggling as she cradled something in her arms. He looked around, confused and nearly rabid. "What?"

"Looks like Sleeping Beauty decided to join us," Hoagie joked, hopping up from his chair. He wiggled his brows. "Was afraid we were gonna have to resort to true love's kiss to rouse you."

Crossing his arms and sinking into the bed, Wally grumbled and buried his face in his pillow to hide his blush. "Hardy-har-har. You're a real riot, y'know that?"

"Ah, lay off him, Numbuh 2. Boy's been through enough and it ain't even breakfast yet," Abby stepped in, leaning over the bed to give Wally a soft noogie. "Nice job back there, sport."

"I agree," Nigel said, making his presence known. Still in his commander uniform, he puffed out his chest as he reached into his breast pocket. "Numbuh 4, your act of selflessness today serves as a shining reminder of what we of the Kids Next Door stand for. So, it is with great honor I bestow upon you the very first medal of Sector V Super Heroic-ness."

"Get out?" Wally got right back up, eyes twinkling with giddy glee as Nigel pressed something to his chest. "Gee, thanks, Numbuh 1! I'll treasure it forever and…" Wally frowned as he looked at his chest. "Hey! This just some lame sticker!"

Nigel shrugged. "Best I could do on short notice."

Wally fell flat back against the bed, glaring at the ceiling. "Ya shouldn't have…"

"Wally." Kuki's tender voice nearly made that blush return, full force. He risked a glance her way, and boy was that a mistake. Because she was looking at him all doe-eyed, expression earnest and making his chest all tickle-y. She reached out and squeezed his hand, her skin warm against his. "Thank you so much."

"Ah, it was no big deal!" He laughed awkwardly, yanking his hand away to rub the back of his neck. Were they always so sweaty? His eyes darted for a distraction, and they landed on the small bundle in Kuki's arm. "Uh, that the little squirt?"

Kuki nodded, pulling back the blanket to reveal a healthy baby hamster. "Uh-huh! And since you saved him, you get to name him!"

Wally looked at the thing gingerly. "Eh…I'll pass."

Kuki pouted, jutting her lips.

"…fine," he mumbled, pulling the cover over his face to shy away. He looked to the ceiling again, this time in hard thought. He had to come up with something. Something awesome! Something so cool that it would sweep Kuki right off her feet!

…n-not that he cared what she thought, mind you.

"Well?"

"Uh, well, what about…er," he mused. Suddenly, remembering a cool superhero comic he read, he snapped his fingers. "I know! Joaquin!"

All the kids blinked, sharing glances before looking back at Wally. "Joaquin?"

Wally was flustered. They didn't even give it a chance! "Well, let's see you guys come up with something better!"

"No. Actually, I quite like it." Nigel nodded, a small smile gracing his lips. "It's a professional name."

Hoagie grinned in agreement. "It's like an action-movie star's name. Fits him like a glove!"

Crossing her arms and leaning against the wall, Abby jerked up her hat and chuckled. "Yeah. Name's kinda cool."

Kuki cooed, making kissy faces at the bundle in his arms. "It's the perfect name for such a cutey-wutey! Yes it is, yes it is!"

"Nah, you're all wrong," Wally pouted from the bed. He swiped the bundle held it high and proud, just like in that lion movie he watched his dad. "It's a tough name. A tough name for a tough hamster!"

From the safety of the bundle, little Joaquin's eyelids twitched.

"Hey," Nigel said, frowning at Kuki. "You said we had to wait at least fourteen days!"

Kuki gasped, squealing at the little miracle. "It's because he's special!"

After a few moments, Joaquin slowly opened his eyes, taking his very first look at this strange, smelly new world. He winced, his little nose wrinkling while his tiny paws brushed his face. The light was bright—so very painfully bright…

…But the soft and curious gazes of five pairs of eyes made it all worth it.

present day

I've been here waiting for the longest time,

I can't believe it's real…

Rachel gazed up at the towering skyscraper before her, the sounds and bustling of the city fading into the background. The building was a monument to corporate greed, all-consuming ambition, and quite literally the beating heart of adult tyranny.

Evil Adult Industries Inc. Executive Headquarters.

Now with a 24/7 coffee bar, because evil runs on lattes.

The drizzle cascaded down her face as she looked up, her bangs whipping in the wind. The Steve's jacket ruffled protectively against the chill, shielding her in its cottony warmth.

She looked down to her left, a briefcase clutched securely at her side. Slowly, she turned the padlock dial, the clasps clicking open after she entered a childish code she had burned to memory. Rachel reached inside the suitcase, pulling out an orange thumb drive with a ripped and faded Doctor Time-Space sticker.

Rachel tossed the suitcase in the garbage, walking into the empty business plaza as she pondered the small device. She juggled it betwixt her fingers, marveling at how something so small would decide the fate of the world as she knew it.

Rachel stuffed it in her pocket, eyes downcast at the slick marbled pavement. Her eyes wondered to the side, eyelids drooping as she was immersed in the hypnotic ripples in the fountain. A pulse of exhaustion coursed through her, trying to coax her into abandoning this crusade; to give in and rest.

But she refused to rest. Rest would come at the end of all this, one way or another.

Her reflection in the water stared back at her, and she began seeing the visage of a little girl wearing a familiar tiger-stripped sweater. She spurned its gaze and marched ahead.

The building's shadow swallowed her on her approach. By Global Command's decree, Father's corporate headquarters were off-limits. The man played no games where his money and stocks were concerned. There were no Ice Cream Men, goofy robots, or vegetable traps waiting inside; just salaried businessmen with orders to shoot Kids Next Door operatives on sight.

As Rachel walked up the steps, she recounted horror stories of how the last sector rumored stepped foot inside was never seen again. She recalled countless times she belayed gung ho Decommissioning Squads from chasing traitors seeking refuge inside. She remembered screaming at Nigel until her face went blue when Abby warned her of his attempted solo-run on the building sometime before the Grandfather incident.

How the roles have reversed, she mused humorlessly.

She stopped just short of the automatic doors, heart pounding in her ears as she stared listlessly at herself in the glass. Her face was bruised, her hair done up in a messy topknot, her clothes ripped and dirty, and the only half-way decent thing about her was the borrowed jacket wrapped around her torso.

Another wave of exhaustion hit her, and her eye twitched as that little girl appeared again.

It's not too late, Numbuh Three-Sixty-Two warned. The child glared up at her, eyes wise beyond her years, and her colander glinted and teemed with authority. The child crossed her arms, folding them in the material of that long-discarded orange sweater. You don't have to do this.

Rachel simply glared down at the child, bags heavy under her eyes. "…yeah, I do."

Numbuh Three-Sixty-Two arched a brow. You don't believe that.

"There's no other way."

There's always another way.

Rachel squared her shoulders, zipping up the jacket of The Steve as she entered the building. "Not this time."

The lobby of Evil Adult Industries Inc. was a cavernous expanse of polished marble and chrome, designed to intimidate rather than welcome. As Rachel stepped through the automatic sliding doors, the sterile atmosphere enveloped her. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a harsh, unrelenting glare that illuminated her every flaw and imperfection.

The walls are adorned with oversized portraits of the company's executives, their faces frozen in smug, self-satisfied expressions. Beneath each portrait are plaques boasting of their achievements in corporate greed and exploitation, the titles of which seem to mock any notion of decency or morality.

The air was heavy with the scent of stale coffee and the acrid tang of burned ambition. Receptionists sat behind a sleek, imposing desk, their forced smiles failing to mask the indifference in their eyes as they mechanically answered after-hour calls.

In one corner, a display case showcased trophies and awards, each one a testament to the company's ruthless pursuit of profit at any cost. Yet, there was a chilling absence of humanity in the room, as if the very essence of compassion had been systematically stripped away in the name of Father's success.

The only sound that broke the oppressive silence was the constant hum of machinery from somewhere unseen, a reminder of the ceaseless production line churning out products designed to exploit and manipulate the innocence of children.

In this soulless chamber of commerce, morality was a commodity to be bought and sold, and the only currency that mattered was power.

Rachel suppressed a shiver as the air-conditioned breeze tickled her skin. Her footfalls clacked-clacked-clacked against the floor. Her eyes hardened as she approached the counter.

The receptionist chattered away on the phone, blatantly ignoring the youth in front of her. Rachel's expression was stoic as she raised her hand, flicking and ringing the desk bell.

A finely manicured hand slapped down on top of hers. The bell went silent as Rachel and the receptionist traded heated glares.

The woman, nestled the phone in her neck as she regarded the teenager. "Can I help you?"

Rachel didn't blink. "I have an appointment."

The adult's nails dug into her skin. "Name?"

Rachel beamed a saccharine smile, her hand deftly flipping and twisting the receptionist's wrist. "Rachel T. McKenzie."

The woman hissed as she tore her hand away. She hammered against her keyboard, eyes darkening as she found the information she was angrily searching for. "Ah, it appears you are…early."

Rachel continued to smile. "Mama raised a punctual girl."

"Adorable," the receptionist grumbled. She then motioned to the elevator. "Mr. Wigglestein's office is on the top floor."

Rachel dropped her smile as she briskly walked to the elevator. It ominously opened to greet her, and she glared over her shoulder at the receptionist as she slammed her fist against the panel. For her part, the receptionist embraced Rachel's glare, returning it with a sickeningly sweet smile of her own. She held right up until the elevator door closed.

The receptionist frowned as she pressed a button under her desk.

Inside the elevator, Rachel closed her eyes and took a steadying breath. The console beeped with each passing floor.

Really?

Her eyes snapped open as she leaped. With a flick of her wrists, two thin lines of gum zipped out from underneath her sleeves. They stuck to the wall, and she used the stringy material as leverage to twirl herself up with enough force to kick off the emergency ceiling hatch. With a flip, she landed atop the elevator, reloading her concealed gum-shooters with her last round of cartridges. Rachel then crouched and waited.

After about five more floors, the elevator suddenly stopped. As soon as the doors opened, Rachel back backflipped on the other elevator shaft, using her gum-shooters to stabilize herself against the wall. She ignored the muffled sounds of gunfire from inside the elevator and began using line after line of sticky gum to begin her ascent.

Sweat beaded along her brow as she climbed within the shaft, trying her best to ignore the increasing floor count. Thirteen floors down, only a couple hundred more to go. Her arms cried with every pull, and the muscles in her legs screamed with every push. They were granted some form of reprieve when she ran out of gum somewhere around the twenty-second floor. She held herself steady as she bit off a bracelet, using the material to jimmy open a hatch. The cover fell forgotten and she tossed the ruined gadget to free her hand to cross wires.

Inside the twenty-second level lobby, the elevator door dinged open and Rachel rolled onto the floor. She kept low, her old spy instinct guiding her as he took cover behind a potted plant. A duo of business men strode by, and she waited for them to turn the corner before dashing forward.

Patrol after patrol was avoided, the staff becoming agitated as they realized her ploy. Rachel soldiered on, sneaking her way to the fire escape stairwell. She pressed against her walls, plucking out a hair-pen as she slowly began to try and disable the alarm.

She hurried her attempts as the sound of muffled footsteps came closer. Just before a group of mid-managers spotted her, Rachel silenced the alarm, slid inside the fire escape, and gently closed the door as the men and women rushed right by. She let loose a sigh before she began sprinting up the stairs.

As Rachel began her climb, her burner phone began buzzing in her pocket. She tensed, stopping to duck low before fishing around for it. Slowly, she held it up, squinting her eyes at the ID. An unknown caller?

Despite everything within her yelling at her otherwise, she carefully flipped it open and brought it to her ear. She stilled her breath as she answered, waiting to hopefully hear the other recipient either hang up or hastily apologize for getting the wrong number—

"Naughty, naughty," Father answered.

"FREEZE!"

Her eyes widened as she snapped her head up. Dozen upon dozen of Evil Adult Industries desk jockeys flooded the stairwell, all pointing their weapons down at her.

She was surrounded.

"You know, it's the darnedest thing; I was just telling Nigel how all you whelps were good for was getting caught with your hands in the cookie jar, and there you go, proving me right," Father casually said as Rachel's heart skipped a beat. "Funny how that happens, huh?"

"Don't hurt him—" Rachel bit her tongue to catch herself.

Too little too late. "Oh ho, I knew you missed him, you little liar, you," Father chuckled. "Let this be a lesson to you, sweetie; boys are nothing but trouble. You ruminate on that with however much time ya got left."

Rachel growled as she slowly stood, the guards above her lining up their shots.

"Well, it's been fun, but I got a nephew to demoralize. Do you mind telling the boys to lock up when they're done with you? Great, thanks. See ya in the funny papers!"

Rachel had tossed the phone halfway through, Father's smug voice echoing as the phone fell to the depths. She stood, hesitant as she eyed for some way of escape. She could find none. Despair edged its way into her mind as the walls began to close in.

The Steve's jacket gave a pulse.

Rachel gasped. Delirium was definitely settling in because, beside her, a ghostly image of her younger self was bouncing on her toes and cracking her neck.

The old-fashioned way it is, Numbuh Three-Sixty-Two said, putting up her dukes. Her chocolate eyes met Rachel's with a challenge. Are you ready?

Rachel closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.

The guards opened fired.

The Steve's jacket encased her in armor as she soared.

You lose the battles that you never fight,

Can't hide from what you feel…

COME ON!

V

The Life of Joaquin

From the highest floor of the Delightful Mansion, Father hung up his old landline. His eyes lingered on the phone, narrowing in contempt. It was such a shame; had the bratty traitor simply waited for a few more measly moments, he would've given her free reign of his business office. He was nothing but a man of his word.

But then little Ms. McKenzie had the gall to be impatient; trying to claim her prize without his permission.

Tsk, tsk, tsk. That would not do at all, no siree.

But no matter. It wasn't like he expected her to follow through, to begin with.

Rachel McKenzie was a fickle, indecisive brat; just like the rest of her unruly lot.

But he was smarter.

He was better.

He could sniff out a weasel from a mile away, and he was confident his employees would handle her accordingly.

Father's eyes peered out of the massive window in front of him. The girl had served her purpose. He had other matters to attend to.

Far below him outside, the remainder of the Tasty Taste private army he had hired stood at the ready, arming the last of their meager defenses. He suspected his Board of Executives was lurking about, ravenous to earn their quarterly bonus by bringing him the heads of sector v...

His nails burned into his chair.

Sector V.

It was always Sector V.

Behind him, five pairs of feet walked up in unison. Five sets of hands were neatly tucked behind their backs at the ready. Five pairs of dull blue eyes stared out into the night, searching for something on the dark, cloudy horizon.

Then, in the far distance, was a twinkle.

Five mouths curved into a delightful smirk.

"Have your fun with Gilligan, Sanban, Beetles, and Lincoln," Father said, voice cold as he waved with his with a dismissive flick of the wrist. "What becomes of them is none of my concern."

Five heads nodded as they turned to exit.

Father raised a flaming finger. "BUT!"

The group paused, suppressing a flinch at the heat.

"Nigel Uno," Father hissed, "is mine. Do I make myself clear?"

Without thinking, they nodded.

"I CAN'T HEAR YOU!"

"…of course, Father," they meekly answered before scrambling out the door.

Father kept his eyes ahead as the door shut behind him. His fingertips touched together as he sunk into his chair and waited.

Away from Father, away from the manor, and high, high above the already elevated grounds of the Delightful Carrier, there was a rumbling in the clouds. With a mighty roar of its engines, the spetacular COOLBUS tore through the sky, elegantly diving towards the massive flying fortress below.

It was greeted by a hail of lasers and ice cream cannonballs, but it careened and swerved around them with effortless grace. It popped off two giant gumdrop torpedoes, the massive confectioneries whistling down and destroying a pair of sprinkle mortars. With the last of the anti-air defenses down, the COOLBUS went into a smooth barrel roll as it dove down for a descent.

Below, a long row of Ice Cream Trucks made a defensive line where the COOLBUS aimed to land. Their tires went horizontal, anchoring themselves to the ground as the roofs opened. The trucks began connecting, tubes and pipes interlocking to make a massive, compressed particle cream canon that immediately locked onto the enemy craft.

In the center truck, the driver chuckled deviously as his sights honed in on the COOLBUS. The computer beeped, and he mashed his thumb down to fire a destructive beam of Caramel Ripple (No Sugar Added!).

At the most dramatic last second, the COOLBUS reared back into a backflip, dodging the beam, and shooting out five pipe-shaped pods and a cardboard package from its chassis. The package broke apart mid-air, and the driver yelped as its contents smashed through his windshield. His arms rose to ward off the flying glass, and he grunted as something landed in his lap. It was a cylinder tube the size of a kitten that smelled faintly of gunpowder. Attached to the cylinder were bottles of sriracha ketchup wired to a timer.

Kids Next Door: K.A.B.O.O.M.

Ketchup. Armament. Bomb. Obliterates. Opposing. Meanies.

The driver mumbled in confusion as he noticed the pink ribbon holding a gift tag.

To: The Ice Cream Man

From: Sector V!

He smiled, then blinked as he squinted his eyes.

PS: Run. :)

…Oh.

The driver leaped from his seat, screaming like a baby as the caravan of ice cream trucks went up in a massive blaze of red, saucy glory.

One of the five pipe-pods shot from the COOLBUS landed amid the explosion. A blur of green darted out from the haze of ketchup smoke.

Kuki giggled while sprinting into battle. The young Supreme Leader leaped into the air, using her weighted combat boots to skip across the heads of advancing thugs, knocking them off one by one as she played her masterful game of hopscotch. With a swift kick, she sent a burly adversary tumbling backward, using him as a launching pad for her next feat.

Ahead, a platoon of Ice Cream Men surged forward, their missile launchers poised for attack. From the rear, a Sprinkle Lieutenant bellowed orders atop his silo, and the onslaught began.

Kuki rolled effortlessly as she hit the ground, rising with her ROADSIGN staff at the ready. With a deft flick, she deflected an ice cream cone missile before twirling her staff with flair. As she settled into her stance, her grin sparkled with confidence.

Eyes twinkling mischievously, Kuki leaned back, splendidly evading another missile before using the GO-sign end of her staff to swat away another. With each skip and hop, she danced through the battlefield, her laughter echoing in the wind as she expertly deflected blow after blow.

And then, in a moment of pure joy amidst the danger, she spun gracefully on the tips of her combat boots, her staff twirling overhead, effortlessly knocking away three missiles in one mesmerizing pirouette. Her eyes widened and her mouth opened to form a shocked o-shape as a missile five times her size rocketed forth. The sharp, massive cone tip was mere inches from her face before it stalled mid-air. Kuki quickly hopped back, confused, before breaking out into a huge smile.

There, holding the missile at bay, was Wally. Despite the large projectile dwarfing him in size, he held it steady, feet digging into the ground, muscles straining, and his frame not budging an inch. The shell trembled like a rabid animal trying to break free, but Wally simply locked in, smirking at Kuki before flashing her a wink.

His smirk dropped as he looked over his shoulder, hearing a barrage of smaller missiles shooting his way. With a quick shift of stance, he used the missile as a makeshift rocket-bat to repel incoming fire, one leg dangling in the air as he nearly lost balance.

The larger missile dented as its thruster died, but Wally wasn't finished. He kicked his dangling leg back into the ground, a small crater forming from the force of it. He held the missile aloft with one hand and curled his other into a fist. With a grunt, he mashed against the missile's hull, sending it flying with a jumping uppercut.

The momentum spun him mid-air, and he landed, punching into the ground with the same fist as the missiles went sailing ahead. They exploded in a creamy display as the scent of cherry, chocolate, and creamy vanilla filled the air. Wally held his super, awesome heroic pose until Kuki tackled him, making him blush as she peppered his face with thankful smooches.

The Sprinkle Lieutenant's face went red at the couple. He jumped up and down on his silo, barking insults and obscenities at his men. So occupied with verbally lashing his troop, he failed to notice the portly visage flew through the ice-cream residue of the missiles above.

Hoagie soared through the shower of ice cream, licking his lips in glee as his fly-suit FLAPPUH kept him aloft. He peered down, then deviously chuckled as he hefted up a large, plumbing pipe bazooka. He gazed down the targeting scope, setting his sights on the furious lieutenant.

Kids Next Door: J.A.W-C.R.U.S.H.E.R.

Jumbo. Auto. Weapon. Containing. Ridiculous. Ultra. Sweet. Hits. Enemy. Rear.

The wild laughter was the Sprinkle Lieutenant's only warning. His men scattered as he looked up, the massive jawbreaker rocket reflecting against his visor getting bigger and bigger.

The missile silo went up in smoke, Hoagie responding with a fist pump. He waved at Kuki and Wally, pleased as punch that their little diversion went off without a hitch. The boy and girl below shouted, frantically pointing behind him. Hoagie gulped, turning mid-air to see a trio of jetpack touting Scooper Men coming for the kill.

The boy held up the JAW-CRUSHER defensively, then flinched as a rifle shot rang in his ears. A sizzling pellet zipped past his ear, striking one thug between the eyes before ricocheting two the other two like pinballs. The three went unconscious, flying haphazardly before crashing into each other, and tumbling down to the bushes below.

With a chuckle, Hoagie looked under his leg and set a thumbs-up to his beautiful savior.

From the ground, Abby chuckled behind the scope and smoking barrel of a retrofitted Nerf assault rifle.

Kids Next Door: B.I.R.D.I.E.

Bee-bee. Incendiary. Rounds. Demolishes. Irksome. Enemies.

After taking the successful shot, Abby lowered her rifle and stood tall, a triumphant smirk playing on her lips. With practiced ease, she slung the rifle horizontally across her back, behind her head, and held it up with her arms. Standing there, her posture exuded cool, a cocky grin spreading across her face as she surveyed the scene.

She quirked a brow as something lumbered forth beyond the last gate leading to the courtyard. There, rolling forward with a chilling aura, was an IC-77H Brainfreezer. Its hull, coated in layers of frosty armor, gleamed under the harsh glare of the battlefield moon. The turret, crowned with a colossal scoop of hardened ice cream, stood as a testament to its frozen fortitude.

From a distance, it seemed whimsical, almost playful, with its pastel hues and sugary decorations adorning its formidable frame. Yet, upon closer inspection, the reality revealed itself—the crown jewel of Tasty Taste's land fleet. The ice cream armor was diamond-plated, capable of withstanding even a cat-eye edition MARBLE mustard blast.

As it trundled across the battlefield, the ground trembled beneath its weight, leaving a trail of frozen destruction in its wake. The air around it grew frigid, sending shivers down the spines of even the most hardened grunts as they cowered.

Atop the turret, a menacing figure peered out from beneath the brim of a colossal waffle cone. The Sprinkle Lieutenant from before seethed, sporting a massive black eye. He aimed the cannon towards Abby and began laughing with demented glee as it began charging. This was not a foe to be taken lightly; this was a force of nature, a frozen behemoth ready to crush anything that dared stand in its path.

Abby, casually, began leisurely chewing a piece of gum.

The Sprinkle Lieutenant's face went mad, cold air condensing around the turret muzzle.

Abby slowly blew a bubble.

The Lieutenant cackled as he fired, a massive wad of Traverse City Cherry sailing towards Abby. The ball exploded, sending chilling shock waves of sherbet rippling across the field. The Lieutenant sprang up from his tank, giggling manically as he waited for the haze to clear.

But his jaw dropped. Instead of a frozen corpse, there was a giant frozen…bubble?

Kids Next Door: G.U.M.M.A.-G.U.A.R.D.

Gum. Unleashes. Mighty. Mitigation. Armor. Generating. Unique. Aegis. Repelling. Destruction.

Slowly, frozen bits of the GUMMA-GUARD shield chipped away, creating a shimmering, icy hot pink mist around an unfazed Abby. She whipped her hair back, blowing another small bubble, and popping it with a wink.

The Sprinkle Lieutenant began breaking down, raving and pulling out his hair as he leaped up and began kicking at his tank.

Abby nonchalantly extended her hand to give Hoagie five as he landed beside her. Kuki and Wally came up from the rear, the girly bubbly and the boy cracking his fists. With a nod, Abby spat out her chewed-up gum before letting out a sharp whistle.

In immediate response, the other three began falling in line as she strode forth.

Not far behind, Nigel marched out from behind a fallen tree, hands firmly clasped behind his back. His face was stoic, eyes veiled behind his dark sunglasses as his red, over-shirt cape billowed in the wind. As he approached his team, he made a quick assessment of the battlefield before narrowing his eyes at the tank before them.

At the end of the line, Wally reached into his backpack and began constructing a massive launcher thrice his size. As Nigel marched, he tossed the weapon over to his leader and then saluted as he passed.

Hoagie fell in hasty step beside Nigel, making some last-second adjustments to a polished, pulsing bowling ball before loading it into the weapon. Nigel continued, and Hoagie went to attention and saluted.

Nigel came to a stop, staying still as Kuki bounced up and began tidying up his appearance. She used a feather duster to brush off his shoulders, tightened the knot of his cape, and leaned in to smile to take a selfie (her grinning while Nigel's face didn't move an inch.) She then polished his head, his dome responding with a twinkle under the starlight. She hopped up, giving his scalp a kiss for luck. His face remained stoic, but a blush appeared as he walked away, Kuki giggling before saluting herself.

At the front, Abby unraveled two suckers. She swished the blurpleberry one around in her mouth and stuck the cherry one in Nigel's waiting mouth as he knelt beside her. She flipped various wooden dials on the massive weapon, then gave it a love tap before leaning down and steadying it.

The commanders of Sector V gave a synchronized suckle of their lollipops as Nigel turned off the safety and Abby held up her hand. She splayed out her fingers.

Five.

Wally ran up behind, leveling the butt of the weapon against his back.

Four.

Kuki skipped to Nigel's right, the targeting scope extending, allowing her to align it with the Brainfreezer.

Three.

Hoagie dragged a match against the weapon's length, jutting out his tongue as he tentatively held it against the fuse.

Two.

Nigel swished his sucker around, flavoring tingling his tongue as his brows furrowed in concentration.

One.

Abby slowly cocked up a finger gun. "Boom."

BWWWWWOOOOOOOOSH!

Kids Next Door: E.A.T.

Expendable. Anti. Tank.

A thunderous roar pierced the air as a colossal bowling ball shot forth from the EAT's mouth, hurtling toward the Brainfreezer with ferocious velocity. The Sprinkle Lieutenant, amid his breakdown, barely had time to register the impending doom.

With a deafening impact, the bowling ball struck the tank's frozen exterior, causing a chain reaction of explosions that sent shards of ice cream flying in all directions. The Sprinkle Lieutenant caught off guard, landed in a heap and began sobbing in despair as his beloved tank erupted into a spectacular display of destruction.

Nigel tossed the launcher aside, its one use used up and purpose fulfilled. He dusted off his hands, then curiously looked over at his portly friend. "EAT, eh?"

Hoagie shrugged. "I've been on a delightfully draconian diet the last couple of years. Guess the hunger pangs bled into my creative process." He then bashfully laughed. "And, hey, you know, any bad guy that gets in its way? They can totally EAT it! Ha!"

Nigel shook his head but smiled. "I think I get it."

Wally cracked his fists. "And you know who else is gonna get it? The rest of those ice cream bozos." His stomach grumbled, and he slouched while giving his tummy a rub. "Man, now I'm gettin' hungry."

Nigel regarded the destroyed gate warily. "Well, it is a party…"

"Hope he didn't cheap out and skip the fancy finger hour-devours," Kuki chimed in. She then giggled. "I love those. They're so cute and adorably yummy!"

Abby popped a bubble. "Well, only one way to find out. Let's move, people."

"You brats aren't going anywhere!" Sector V turned to see the last squadron of Ice Cream Men flanking them. They aimed various cherry shooters, loaded milkshake launchers, and primed sprinkle grenades. The one taking charge put on a pair of spiked-cone brass knuckles. "The Neapolitan Brigade is here to clean house.

The kids yawned, bored. Nigel crossed his arms with a skeptical raise of his brow. "You must be new, so allow me to explain how this will play out: you're going to drop your weapons, run away, and then go crying home to Mommy."

Hoagie snickered. "Or else we're gonna kick your butts six ways to Sundae."

Abby laughed.

The grunt leader growled. "As if! Once we bring you in, we get thirty minutes of overtime pay."

"Wait, you're getting overtime?" the second-in-command gasped. "I'm only getting paid minimum wage for this gig!"

Another grunt lowered his weapon and looked astonished. "You guys are getting paid?"

"Uh, hey, guys, money isn't everything," the leader fumbled as he looked at his men. "In fact, you boys do a good job, I'll make sure ya each get an extra slice at the company pizza party."

"Oh, screw this," one man huffed as he tossed his weapon down. He ripped off his name tag and doffed his gear as he walked away. "I quit. Have fun getting your butts kicked."

Nigel and his friend awkwardly stepped aside to let the defector pass. They all shared a look, shrugged, and then glared down at the remainder of the forces. "Not too late to follow your chum's example."

The leader's face went red. "I've had just about enough of your lip, baldy!"

Nigel dramatically gasped, taking a step back as a hand clenched his heart. He turned to Wally. "Numbuh 4, I do believe he hurt my feelings."

"Oh, did he now?" Wally puffed up his chest and strutted forward. "Don't ya worry, let your ol' pal Numbuh 4 do the talkin'."

Wally waltzed up to the collection of thugs, a dozen laser sights coating his face on approach. He took it all in stride, clearing his throat as he regarded the leader. "Think we got off on the wrong foot, mate. How's about you apologize to Numbuh 1, and we forget this ever happened, yeah?"

With a snarl, the leader reared back his fist and surged forth. "I've got your apology right here—OWOWOWOW!"

"I see you've elected to go about this the hard way," Wally eloquently mused, catching the incoming fist with a pinch and twisting the arm down. A murderous grin spread ear to ear as he cracked his neck. "A true man of culture, you are."

The screams and wails of Ice Cream Men echoed through the night while the rest of the sector V took a short break. Abby scrolled through her phone, chuckling as she caught Hoagie up on various memes he missed while out of commission. Kuki flipped out her compact mirror, straightening her eyeliner and checking her cheeks for blemishes. Nigel idly analyzed the back of his hand, lips crinkling as he picked out dirt from underneath his nails.

Soon, the thrashing ceased, Wally walking back to his bald friend with a satisfied flick of his wrist. "Feelin' better?"

Nigel looked up, subtly smirking at the pile of unconscious bodies. "Much better, thank you."

"Now, doesn't this just warm your heart?"

The kids immediately went on the defensive, huddling together as a tower of flame burst in front of them. As it withered out, Father appeared, yellow eyes gleaming.

"Sector V, together again," he mockingly said. "Why, it almost brings a tear to my eye."

Hoagie snorted as he aimed his fully loaded JAW-CRUSHER. "Trust me, pal, I foresee plenty of tears in your future."

"I must admit, this is quite the development, Mr. Gilligan," Father said, cocking a brow as he looked at the portly teen. "Here I thought you had learned your lesson, but I see you remain a glutton for punishment."

Hoagie rolled his eyes. "Aw, I missed you too, loser."

Father shook his head, leveling his gaze at the only one that mattered. "It didn't have to be this way, Nigel. You could've accepted your fate like a good little boy, but noooooo. You had to go and rope your friends into your mess as well." Fire swirled around his ankles. "Well, if you insist on dragging them into this, then I'm happy to oblige. I'll drag them—kicking and screaming while you watch."

Nigel held out his hand, Hoagie equipping him with a repaired and heavily modified silver SPLANKER. The boy wielded the weapon high, his team falling in formation around him. "Spare us the bread and circuses; time to skip to the part where we kick your evil butt once and for all."

"Why in such a rush, kids? The party's just hitting its stride. And funny you bring up bread! It's like you read my mind." Father stroked his chin, leaning forward and giving them a pitiful pout. "Just look at you lot, you must be famished. Ol' Father can hear those grumbling tummies a mile away. I think it's high time I let my caterer treat you rascals to the feast of a lifetime."

Sector V shared an uneasy shiver. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, lighten up. Enjoy yourselves! Trust me, the food?" His eyes narrowed in a devious sneer. "It is to die for."

Father disappeared in a puff of smoke, leaving a cautious and confused Sector V. All went quiet. Abby hunched closer to Nigel, eyes darting around. "What do you think he's cooking up now?"

Nigel flipped off his weapon's safety. "Nothing good. Stay frosty, team. Continue the advance before he—"

The ground beneath them rumbled, throwing them off balance. The lawn below their feet bulged before exploding in a massive geyser of sloppy joe. The greasy plume of sludge sent sector V flying, and other sprouts of slop erupted all over the manor's outer lawn. The five landed in a gooey dog pile, sauce and meat staining their clothes and singing their exposed skin.

The geysers ceased, coating long stretches of the Delightful GIHOOJACARRIER in smoking, toxic beef. The odor was nauseating, but sector V's disgust quickly turned to horror as living food abominations began crawling up from the bowels of the aircraft.

"Oh no," Wally whined whilst being surrounded by grody meat pies and walking hairy sausages. He barely managed to swallow his bile as he gingerly raised his fists. "Anyone but her…"

"Why hello, childrens!"

But that heavy and hearty German accent was unmistakable. The encroaching food army broke ranks slightly as a rotund, elderly woman hobbled forth, using a giant wooden kitchen spoon as a walking stick. With her loyal Liver and Onions hanging from her blue gown, the gray-haired woman smiled with wicked glee as she cackled at the youth before her. "My, just look at you all. You have grown so tall, so fragile," she lowered her head, glasses reflecting a sinister gleam, "so skinny."

"Gramma Stuffum?" Kuki said, disbelief coating her voice. But it was hard to ignore what stood in front of her; the bane to kids' stomachs everywhere, spawned from Hell's Kitchen itself (and not the one in Midtown Manhattan). Kuki leveled her THUMPER cautiously. "You…you were buried in that sorbet avalanche at the Mountains of the Thirty-Seven Flavors. I saw it with my own eyes!"

"Naive little Numbuh 3, did you truly think some frozen fruit puree would do in Gramma?" The woman laughed, slapping a hand against her belly. "It just made me…fatter."

"And now you cater for Father, even after all he's done," Abby said with contempt. "Never thought you would stoop so low."

Stuffum rolled her eyes. "We shall see how high and mighty you childrens are when your income is measly social security checks."

"Good to know your greed is as insatiable as your appetite," Nigel said. "He's a madman, Granny. He'll burn you like everyone else. Wise up and stand down."

"And leave you little ones to such a grim fate?" Stuffum cooed, hands flying to her cheeks. "Gramma is only trying to save you childrens! Once you are all plump and helpless, you will stop causing so much trouble for Father, and he will have no choice but to leave you in my care. Then? Gramma can spoil you with her new recipes forever and ever!"

Sector V shared a collective, terrified shiver at the thought.

"Ah, except you, Numbuh 1. I'm sorry, but he was quite insistent about tending to you. My hands were tied." Her expression was somewhat mournful as she shrugged, but it hardened as her food army quivered in anticipation. "Now, be a good little boy and come along. If you cooperate, your skinny friends will be free to leave. It hurts Gramma's soul to know they will starve, but the feast was made for you, after all."

His friends didn't even give him the chance to entertain that offer as they all formed a protective square around him. Abby took point, cocking her BIRDIE and aiming the sights at Stuffum's head. "You ain't takin' him anywhere, Granny."

"Never say I didn't try." Stuffum chuckled. Her fingers tightened around her staff, and she slowly raised it into the air. "Ah, but your mouths are doing too much of the talking when they should be busy with the EATING!"

Once her staff slammed against the ground, the army of the living dishes descended upon them. Abby fired her BIRDIE, an incendiary bee-bee pellet zipping and burning through a trio of spinach men. Nigel slid in front of her, batting away stragglers with his SPLANKER while she reloaded.

A swarm of hairy sausages lunged for Kuki to force themselves into her throat. She aimed and shot her THUMPER at the ground, using the force to bounce into the air. While airborne, she yelled as she shot at the food below her, but yelped as she was accosted by a flock of weenie bats. Wally, who was fending off iced meatballs, saw this and jumped to grab Kuki's ankle. Just as his fingers graced her sneakers, he was shot away by a hail of batter.

Nigel and Abby did their best to fend off the food, the girl firing away with her rifle, and the boy twirling around her to keep close-range moldy potatoes away. Unfortunately, the onslaught was slowly overwhelming them. Nigel fired his SPLANKER at a liverwurst headcheese casserole, only for the plank to get caught in its sticky maw. It tried pulling him in, and Abby had to quickly stop mid-reload to slam the butt of her rifle against its head. It bought them a window of escape at the cost of losing their weapons to the liverwurst's blubbery mass.

Abby hooked arms with Nigel as he rocketed into the air, tossing down a cherry bomb grenade as they flew up. The explosion sent bits of wet slop and crumbs everywhere, and Nigel strafed wildly to and fro to dodge strings of cheese being shot up from the forces below. Abby looked off to the distance, seeing Wally struggling to fight off the living batter trying to absorb him. She reached into her pouch and shouted as she tossed weapons his way. "Numbuh 4, catch!"

Wally kicked at the slobbering mass of dough batter and perked at Abby's voice. He looked up, grinning as his hands zipped out to catch two boomerangs crafted from extra sharp peppermint bark. He brought his right arm down in an arch, cleanly slicing through the dough and back-flipping away once he was free. Blood pumped hot through his veins, and he twirled the boomerangs between his fingers before he went about slicing and dicing through the devious delicacies.

He lunged forward, spinning and slashing through the chest of a grilled cheese monster. The boy landed in a roll, flicking away a boomerang as he came up into a kick. The weapon whistled through the air, curving in a wide arch as it sliced through the weenie bats antagonizing Kuki. With a grin, Kuki dove down towards her boyfriend, using the sickle end of her GO ROADSIGN to cut the remainder of the grilled cheese monster in half.

Wally turned to face her, looking smug as he flicked away a smudge of cheese. She smiled, then gasped as Spinach Men reared up behind him. The boy didn't flinch, just easily reaching up to open his hand. The peppermint boomerang returned, cutting off the heads of the spinach soldiers and landing in Wally's waiting hand.

Kuki swooned at how cool Wally appeared, and he just chuckled as he ate up the attention. "Always preferred candy anyway."

A giant spoon swept under his and Kuki's legs, tripping them. They looked up to see the shadow of Gramma Stuffum looming overhead.

"Is that so?" Stuffum asked. Her Liver lieutenant pushed up a bubbling cauldron, and she stirred up a hefty spoonful of some sizzling, sickly yellow substance with bits of twitching reptile limbs. "Then help yourself to some candied lizard!"

Wally and Kuki held each other while screaming in disgust. With their mouths wide and open, Stuffum thrust forward to deliver the gross payload. Her laugh turned into a gasp as a hucky figure leaped in front of the cowering duo and chomped down on the spoon. Stuffum took a step back, eyes wide. "You!"

Hoagie smirked as he wiped his lips. He looked over to his friends. "Sorry to to cut in line at the buffet guys, but I haven't had a good meal in a long time."

The two gave hesitant chuckles and a slow thumbs up, wincing at how Hoagie just scarfed all that yuckiness down. "Uh, no worries, mate. Help yourself."

"Oh, I plan to," Hoagie said before cocking a brow at Stuffum. "Got any more where that came from?"

"It cannot be…" Stuffum whispered her voice a unique blend of fear and reverence. "But…there is only one child who could swallow a spoonful of candied lizard straight from the sizzling pot…"

Hoagie burped.

"It is you," Stuffum said cautiously. "I was told you were an obedient husk: left to wither away as punishment."

"Reports of my delightfulization were greatly exaggerated." He curled his fingers, taunting the woman forth. "Now, ya gonna keep yapping, or are ya gonna serve me?"

Gramma Stuffum slammed her spoon against the cauldron. It clamored like a mighty gong, and gecko-shaped oozes spewed from the brew, forming a protective circle around Stuffem. The elderly woman twirled her staff, pointing its end towards the boy: a clear challenge. "Such a shame you choose to sample my delicious concoction with bare hands like an uncultured barbarian."

"No finger food, I take it? Well, don't sweat it." With a flourish, he opened his lab duster, revealing a bulging pack encircling his waist. With a tug of a string, the pack burst open, extending into four metallic arms, made of a modified spoon, fork, butter knife, and spatula. "'Cause I brought my own silverware!"

Kids Next Door: S.P.O.R.K.

Support. Pack. Operates. Repurposed. Kitchenware.

Hoagie shifted into an exaggerated kung-fu stance, sweeping his arms and balancing on one leg. The arms of the SPORK vibrated at the ready and he grinned. "Time to dig in."

The candied lizard geckos darted forth, splitting to surround the boy. Hoagie hopped to the left, the spoon scooping up two geckos and shoveling them into his mouth. The fork pierced through a lunging lizard treat, hoisting it high while it squirmed between the tongs. Using the SPORK as a masterful extension of his appetite, Hoagie deflected cheesy spittle with the spatula and sliced through the remaining offense with his knife. He slammed the fork down, spinning to collect the remains of the morsels before hungrily munching away.

Stuffum charged, bringing her spoon staff in a downward arch. Hoagie wagged his finger as he parried with his spoon, then tucked his hands behind his back as he casually strutted forward. Gramma Stuffum was quickly on the back foot, grunting with exertion as she was assailed by the SPORK's endless strikes and thrusts. After one cheeky sidestep, Hoagie tossed away her staff, then laughed as he tripped her up with the spatula. Stuffem hollered as she was flipped like a burger and screamed as Hoagie slapped her across the field.

The boy turned, spreading his arms as the SPORK arms began spinning. He took off, a miniature helicopter as he tilted and cut through the advancing food army while devouring them with ravenous delight.

As Hoagie soared through the air, wielding the SPORK with finesse, Gramma Stuffum scrambled to her feet, her hair disheveled and her apron stained with food remnants. She clenched her fists in frustration, her eyes narrowing as she watched Numbuh 2 effortlessly dispatch her culinary creations.

"You naughty childrens and your silly gadgets," she spat, her voice tinged with fury. "It will be Gramma who will be having the last laugh once you are pleasantly plump!"

"Hate to break it to ya, Stuffy," Hoagie retorted, his fork stabbing into a deep-fried boar, halting its charge. He held the beastly dish up before polishing it, picking it clean down to the bone. He licked his lips. "But laughs are my bread and butter!"

"Aw, but don't just fill up on bread, Herr Gilligan," Stuffem chuckled, raising her hands. "How else will you have room for my Fungal Fritters!?"

Hoagie wobbled as the ground beneath him erupted. From the earth rose a mass of deep-fried fritters made of moldy cheese, fungus-infected mushrooms, and powdered insect wings. The boy hacked away with his sharp utensils, but a group of fritters leaped onto his back and forced him to the ground. He yelped as his vision became clouded, buried in the fried, oily grotesque serving.

Gramma Stuffum let loose a victorious cackle, garnering the attention of the other kids. Using the massive opening Hoagie cut through the army, the rest of Sector V pushed through to make their way to their friend. But when they arrived at Hoagie's location, it appeared they were too late. All that remained of their portly friend was a wriggling mass of deep-fried mushrooms and fritters.

Anger fueling their veins, they turned and aimed their weapons at Stuffum, the woman goading the children to dare and try and claim vengeance. Right as they were about to open fire, a rumbling from behind caused all to pause, and they turned around to see the mass of fungal fritters shrinking.

Like an endless gullet, Hoagie swallowed mouthful after mouthful of fritters, scarfing them down with oblivious abandon. Soon, only one tiny fritter remained. It clicked nervously, trying to tip-toe away, only to squirm and snarl as Hoagie plucked it with his fingers.

"Hmm, shame you didn't pair them with a sauce," Hoagie mused as he smacked his lips. He snapped his fingers before reaching into his duster and procured a small bottle. "Good thing I always bring some spare Tabasco."

Sector V lowered their guard as they watched their friend gorge. While immensely relieved to see he was still in one piece, they were repulsed at how he munched away at deplorable slop. Quite the conundrum, to be frank.

Noting all eyes were on him, Hoagie paused mid-chew and offered up the remaining half of the wiggling fritter. "Sorry, you guys want some?"

Nigel and Wally paled. Kuki's cheeks bulged as she excused herself behind a nearby shrub. Abby forced a smile despite a bit of green seeping into her complexion. "Uh, w-we good, baby."

Hoagie shrugged. "Your loss. More for me!" He greedily finished the treat, suckling the last remnants of flavor from his fingers while ignoring the retching noises Kuki made behind the bush. "Stuffum's cooking is definitely a guilty pleasure."

"Geez," Wally gagged. "Ya got an extra stomach or something? How are you still kicking after eating all that crud?"

"Aw, c'mon, guys, it's not that bad once you keep it down," Hoagie protested, missing Kuki gingerly walking up from behind. He crossed his arms and nodded in remembrance. "Certainly no worse than Nurse Claiborne's old apple crumble."

Kuki did a quick about-face and returned to the shrub as she was reminded of Claiborne's secret crumble ingredient.

Meanwhile, Gramma Stuffum began to stomp and huff. "How dare you compare my wonderful feast to that second-rate charlatan's baking!"

"You call this a feast?" Hoagie laughed with a confident slap on his tummy. "Lady, I plowed through your entire main course, and I still got room for seconds, thirds, and fourths! Send me the check, and don't expect a tip."

Stuffum's face curved into a devious little sneer as she began to tremble with insane laughter. "Oh, my poor naive little childrens. Do you think that was the main course?" She chef-kissed the tips of her fingers. "That was a mere amuse-bouche."

A cold wind whipped through the lawn and an eerie feeling crept into the pit of the children's guts as Stuffum straightened her posture. Liver and Onions sported matching evil grins as they trotted up to her side, the former carrying a witch's hat and the latter duo carrying an odorous tome wrapped in dried bacon fat.

"It has been so long since Gramma had to fatten up such famished little bellies. But not to worry, my darlings," she intoned as she slowly put on her witch hat and slowly peeled back the strap to unlock the blasphemous pages of her tome. "Gramma has just the thing to feed such…monstrous appetites."

Kuki, having recovered from her bout of nausea, felt a tremor of fear slink down her spine as she eyed the tome. "That cookbook…"

Nigel's eyes widened with recognition behind his shades. "Team, quick! Destroy that book!"

BOOOM!

A stealthy weenie-bat dropped a pulsing eclair in the middle of Nigel, Kuki, Wally, and Abby, it exploding and releasing a plume of thick, sickeningly sweet toxic fumes. Nigel and Kuki gagged, Abby began coughing as she fell prone, and Wally barely had enough time to cover his mouth and shout, "Custard gas!"

"Guys!" Hoagie was torn between stopping Stuffum or rescuing his friends. He barely spared even a fraction of a second to choose, instantly rushing towards his comrades and using his SPORK arms as makeshift fans to quickly blow away the poisonous smog.

As soon as they were clear, Nigel, Kuki, and Wally took greedy mouthfuls of clean air while Hoaige cradled Abby in his arms. He gently shook her, patting her back as she hacked out the last of the custard she accidentally breathed in. "You guys okay?"

Abby sputtered a bit before brushing off his worry. "It's gonna take more than that to do us in, baby. Quit worryin'."

"We're not out of the woods yet," Nigel said as Wally and Kuki helped him to his feet. He wildly scanned the field to quickly spot Stuffum. "We need to stop her before she summons—"

"SLAMWITCH!"

But they were too late.

"SLAMWITCH!"

Sector V huddled together as the remainder of Gramma Stuffum's Food Army began screaming to the heavens. All around them, food stood in place, crying with frightening zeal; a demented sect calling forth their dark, decadent patron. Meat pies ruptured of their own accord, offering their stuffing as a sacrifice. Spinach men used turkey legs to pound against cooking pots, beating in time to a sinful symphony.

"SLAMWITCH!"

The air crackled with unsettling energy as Gramma Stuffum's Food Army, now devolving into a crazed cult, continued their fervent chant. The ground beneath them trembled in anticipation, and the sky darkened ominously as if nature itself recoiled from the impending evil.

"SLAMWITCH!"

Hoagie held Abby close, his eyes darting around in panic as he realized the magnitude of their situation. "Uh, guys…"

Nigel clenched his fists, his mind racing with desperate thoughts. "Everyone, charge!"

"With rotten slaw and expired mustard," Gramma Stuffum chanted, the wind billowing her gown and apron, "I call forth my fermented muenster!"

The kids yelled as they tore through the wall of soldiers. A wall of fire shot up, halting their advance. They looked off in the distance, noting the visage of Father floating in the air. The man wagged his finger, then mockingly laughed before disappearing again.

"Made of brains and sour cream, here he comes to make you scream!"

Hoagie used the arms of the SPORK to launch his teammates over the flames, then braced the arms on the ground to chuck himself over last. They all landed on the other side but gasped as Stuffum began to rise as a massive moldy shadow overtook them.

"With eye of roast and slop surprise," Gramma Stuffum madly intoned, waving her spoon that radiated with rancid energy, "Jaws will drop, and stomachs shall writhe!"

The air was tainted with a putrid odor as the kids looked up in terror. They were dwarfed by the monster towering before them, giant blobs of sizzling cheese dripping and coating the ground as it lumbered about with rotten carrot feet. Toothpicks protruded from its crust, a rotten olive and pickled egg forming all-seeing eyes that gazed at the five below with a sinful hunger.

"From this meal, there will emerge one winner," Gramma Stuffum shouted from atop her culinary Frankenstein, the wind and lightning framing her with a crazed aura as she wiggled her arthritis-riddled fingers gleefully. "NOW ENJOY LAST SLAMWITCH DINNER!"

And, finally, he had arrived; a fearsome foe sector V had hoped to never see again. The towering abomination shivered with devious euphoria. The bony protrusions from its spare rib hand scooped up willing swathes of the Food Army and ravenously devoured them in its oily maw. Gramma Stuffum cackled like a mad woman as Slamwitch cannibalized her creations, gathering energy for its rampage while sector V looked on horror-stricken.

Kuki whined and fell to her knees, face red from earlier exertion and disgust. "I hate fighting her, so much."

"Me too, girl," Abby gulped. "But we ain't got no other option."

"But it's so gross!"

Nigel's lips thinned, his face pale as he stepped beside his portly friend. "You think you have enough room for that, Numbuh 2?"

Hoagie, despite all his bluster earlier, grimaced as his expression greened ever so slightly. "Uh, might have to undo the belt for this one, Cap'n."

"It's like Numbuh 2 said, fellas. We just gotta fight it down!" Wally shouted, trying to rally his team's spirits along with his own. Slamwitch burped, puss secreting from his mouth, and Wally barely managed to keep his composure. "We, uh, got lame teenager metabolism-thingys now, right? We can do this!…probably."

"Numbuh 4's right," Nigel agreed. He spun his SPLANKER between his fingers as he shifted into a readying stance. "He may have gotten bigger, but so have we. Grit your teeth and get ready to bite your way through!" Around him, his friends shared a resolute nod as they raised their weapons. Nigel, in return, punched the air. "Kids Next Door, BATTLE—"

"Not so fast, Numbuh 1." Stuffum cut off Nigel with a laugh. With a toothy grin, she resumed flipping through her cookbook while cheesy fumes encircled her like a tempest. "Gramma knows you are eager to pig out, so let her spoil you by letting you have dessert early!"

Slamwitch reared back its neck and a roar spilled from its jaw, rupturing the clouds. From on high, a Tasty Taste Helicopter descended and dropped off a massive, chilled tanker, the container nearly the size of the sandwich behemoth itself. Slamwitch ripped the lid off, and a wave of strawberry, vanilla, and chocolate ice cream flooded the battlefield. With a devious chant and swirl of her spoon-staff, Stuffum breathed foul life into the cream. The ice cream solidified, rising to take the shape of a turtle-esque beast as a spiked, ice cream cone shell emerged on its backside.

Stuffum diverted her attention away from the ice cream, screaming into the night as her cooking magic called forth another delicious demon. Below, a platoon of Spinach Men marched forth, dropping a hogtied cupcake at Slamwitch's feet. The poor treat squirmed, then cried with agony as a beam of moonlight shined down upon it.

The cupcake grew, sprouting crab-like cake pincers and a long, sharp cookie-scorpion tail. With each pulse in size, it developed another deformed layer until all three tiers of frosting matched Slamwitch in height. Waxy, flaming candles burst painfully from its torso, and its mouth ripped open as it wailed in equal parts pain and fury, cream cheese spittle flying everywhere.

Sector V trembled as they huddled close together. Now, on all sides, they were surrounded by an Ice Cream Monster, a giant Pound Cake, and Slamwitch himself. The grilled cheese creature slobbered forth alongside his new companions, their shadows enveloping the children below.

"And now, children," Gramma Stuffum darkly cooed, face darkened with devious delight. "It is time…TO FEAST!"

With a chilling scream, the Ice Cream Monster slammed down its fist. Hoagie raised his SPORK arms defensively, and the rest of Sector V braced for impact.

Only to blink, confused, as wet, room-temperature ice cream drizzled around them. They looked up to see the monster's fist melted. The creature was equally puzzled, cutely tilting its head to inspect what remained of its hand.

A sizzling laser beam cut through the darkness at the monster's feet, it taking sluggish steps back to retreat from the heat. Sector V watched, astounded as a small figure landed in front of them. From the strawberry fog arose a cute-shaped creature, the rim of an old detective fedora obscuring his face. His construction plow of an arm flexed, steam shooting from his joints. His slightly grayed, ebony fur glistened in the moonlight. He slowly turned, raising his hat to gaze upon his human family with one cute beady eye, and a cool cybernetic eye.

It was half-skunk, half Kids Next Door operative, half butt-kicking machine.

Nigel and Wally's jaws dropped as Abby gasped. "Is that…?"

Hoagie and Kuki held one another, shedding fat, proud tears as they both gushed, "OUR BABY BOY!"

Bradley winked with his good eye. He turned to face the Ice Cream Monster and then, with a growl, unleashed a violet laser beam with his cybernetic eye. The creamy creature snarled as it backed away, gaining distance to regenerate itself. From behind, the Pound Cake lunged for Bradley, but the skunk merely lifted his mop of a tail and fired a silo of stink missiles. The force and odor caught the beast unaware, and it stumbled off to the side, gagging as it cursed Stuffum for giving it a sense of smell.

With two of the kitchen kaiju immobilized Bradley turned to give the cheering children a thumbs up. His eyes narrowed at the remnants of the Food Army sneaking from behind and brought his paw to his lips to let loose a piercing whistle.

Sector V reacted and turned to face the ambush. Before any of them could pull a trigger, six shadows sprang from nearby bushes. A large one mauled a spinach commander to the ground, its fangs ripping into the back of its neck. Five small shadows scurried around, taking massive nibbles out of the rolling Brussels sprout minions.

The kids watched as the shadows munched away at the food. Once their prey had been polished off, they quickly darted towards the children. Sector V tensed on reflex but relaxed as the shadows turned out to be animals the closer they got.

"Pee-yew!" Wally coughed as a tiny baby skunk started crawling up his leg. He used one hand to pick it up by the scruff of its neck and used his other to pinch his nose. The little creature tittered happily as Wally gingerly regarded it. "Where did these baby skunks come from?"

"Wait, don't tell me," Kuki whispered as the larger, female skunk waddled proudly towards her. The mother's eyes beamed as she deposited one of her babies into Kuki's eager hands. The girl carefully cradled the kit, tickling its belly as she nearly died from a cuteness overload. Bouncing on her feet, she giddily turned to Hoagie. "Numbuh 2! Numbuh 2! Do you know what this means!?"

"Yeah," Hoagie laughed as the remainder of the kits dog-piled him, lapping up the ice cream on his face. He grinned. "I get to make granddad jokes now!"

Nigel watched as Kuki squealed with delight. Wally continued to dangle and inspect the one kit he held, while Abby knelt and offered a piece of celery to a shier one. He turned as something thumped behind him, and smirked as he saluted his fellow operative. "Am I glad to see you, Numbuh 6."

Bradley chuckled, raising his robotic arm to salute back. He lowered it as warmth tickled his heart. Seeing his two families reunited lit a fire under his stink glands. A roar shattered the calm, and the skunks and Sector V glared up as Slamwitch towered over them with Stuffum fuming on his crown.

"You filthy vermin!" she raged as Slamwitch wound up his fist. "How dare you ruin Gramma's potluck!"

The rockets in his elbow blazed to life as Bradley leaped into the air. With a shout, he swung his plow arm back before surging forth with a jet-fueled strike. Placing himself between his family and the titian, Bradley's robotic fist collided with Slamwitch's and halted it with a mighty blow. The force of the clash sent shock waves throughout the battlefield, knocking both Bradley and Slamwitch off balance and scattering everyone else to the wind.

Kuki and Wally tumbled through the air. Wally reached out, pulling the girl to his chest and bracing for a rough landing. Before they hit the ground, a swarm of fluffy critters rushed to cushion their fall. The children were lost in a sea of wet noses and smelly fur, Kuki giggling as hamsters cocooned around her. Wally sat up, scratching his head as Kuki scooped up an armful of hamsters. The boy stood, dusting himself off.

"Numbuh 4!" Kuki squealed, bouncing and giggling as the little pups playfully nibbled and licked her face. "Hamsters!"

"Yeah, I can see that," Wally said slowly, his confusion only growing. "What the heck are these fleabags doing out here?"

"Ahem."

Hobbling up and balancing on his walking stick was Joaquin himself. The elderly hamster slowly skittered forth, half of a soda-can samurai helmet heavy on his brow. The ground quaked in the aftermath of Slamwitch's stomps, and he tripped and fell forward into the waiting hands of Kuki.

"Joaquin," she whispered. Her fingers tenderly stroked the aged pet; the last living hamster of the massive horde she cared for during her time in sector V. His fur lacked luster with small bald patches dotting his torso. His eyes were clouded, vision impaired beyond imagination. Even now, she could feel him involuntarily twitching, his old bones and joints fragile. By adult standards, Joaquin was far older than any hamster had any right to be.

Her eyes misted with tears, a few escaping as she held him close. Despite his age, despite how unpossible it should be… "…you came."

Joaquin looked up at his adoptive caretaker and smiled a near-toothless grin.

Wally crossed his arms as he stood next to Kuki. He quirked a brow as he regarded Joaquin. "You still kickin', fuzzball?" Joaquin's smile faltered as he dryly regarded the boy. The two held an intense stare before Wally's lips flicked into a smirk. "Guess you rodents are tougher than I thought."

Joaquin's chuckle was raspy as he reached behind his back. He produced a can of root beer from thin air, and quickly splashed its contents over Wally's face. The hamster fell on his back, laughing as Wally spluttered and raged.

"You sneaky little…" Wally fumed, wiping the root beer from his snarling mug. "You're lucky you're senile, or else I'd give ya such a—"

"Look at all those chickens…"

Wally looked at Kuki, concerned she had taken one too many blows to the noggin. "Uh, Numbuh 3? These are hamsters."

Kuki shook her head, grabbing Wally's cheeks and forcing him to look across the field. "No, silly, over there!"

A good distance away, Nigel had landed right in the middle of a squad of moldy baguette infantrymen. He whipped up his SPLANKER, reducing them to bits and crumbs as he struggled to fight his way free. Yet, for every bread he took down, another jumped on his back and tried to force its way into his mouth. Slowly, he was overwhelmed and forced to his knees. His SPLANKER was knocked away, and the baguette scratched and trampled him into submission.

BUK BUK BA-GAWK!

There was a flutter of feathers and a symphony of clucking as the baguettes were picked and plucked to bits. Nigel hacked up globs of mold as he got his bearings, only to yelp in surprise to see himself surrounded by puffy hens.

The boy gingerly raised his arms as the chickens roosted at his feet. They peeped and purred, and slowly, some sense of familiarity wormed its way into his mind. He blinked as a weight plopped on his head, and he reached up to carefully pick up and look at a chubby hen wearing a pink, crochet bonnet. She preened happily under his attention, and suddenly, it all clicked. "Hold on…Percy?"

Nigel was forced to the ground again as all the chicks, now fully grown hens and roosters, flocked around him demanding attention. They pecked gently at his clothes and forced themselves under his arms as memories came rushing forth. He wryly smiled, not believing that his little flock remembered him after all this time.

"Easy, Mr. Freckles. Ah, yes, yes, I see you, Bing-Bing," he said, waving his arms as he carefully pried them off as he stood. His hands went to his hips as he shook his head ruefully. "Still think I'm your Mommy, eh?"

The chickens unanimously nodded.

Nigel smirked. A figure blotted out the moon, and he looked up to see the menacing cake beast inching closer. He pursed his lips. "Still up to being my polished fighting force?"

The chickens unanimously saluted.

"Then let's push forward." Nigel picked up his SPLANKER and let loose a rallying cry. "FOR MOMMY!"

As Nigel and the chickens sprung back into the fray, Abby and Hoagie were holding their own not that far away.

Hoagie cut through a swath of meat pies with his SPORK arms, and Abby leaped over him, tossing down candy-cane shurikens. They found their mark with deadly accuracy. With each toss, she disabled advancing Swedish meatballs, causing them to skid and tumble, their momentum disrupted. Her movements were graceful yet fierce, a testament to her training and nimble finesse.

Before landing, Abby snapped out a lash of taffy from her belt, encircling a giant, jellied squid doughnut. With a yank, she pulled herself towards it and slammed it into the ground. In one fluid move, and swung out her recovered BIRDIE, jammed the barrel of the rifle down the creature's gullet, and unloaded. One pellet was all it took to disable the monster as its squid tentacles fell limp against the ground.

Abby hopped off the doughy corpse, landing next to Hoagie as he finished slurping up a flying spaghetti monster. The girl raised her hand for a high-five, only to scream as Hoagie stumbled and collapsed on his back.

"Numbuh 2!" Abby knelt, scrambling to hoist the groaning boy into a sitting position. His face was contorted in pain, tongue lolling out as he looked up in a daze. Panic welled inside her as she snapped her fingers in front of his eyes. "C'mon, baby, Numbuh 5's here. Say something, please!"

Hoagie moaned, his stomach grumbling. His head turned, and he managed to weakly lift his hand. "Look…out…"

Eyes wide, Abby snatched the SPICER blaster from his hip and turned to blindly fire at the liverwurst serpent coiling around them. It hissed as hot sauce burned through its pores and snapped forth to swallow the girl. It was interrupted as Wally jumped up from behind, slashing into its neck with his peppermint boomerangs. The food creature died with a weak hiss while the blond rushed to help his friends.

"Don't you dare quit on me now, mate!" Wally urged as he leaned down, patting Hoagie's cheek to get some sort of response. "What's wrong with him?"

Abby shook her head. "I don't know. Numbuh 2, ya gotta tell us how to help!"

"Stomach…hurts," Hoagie whined, clenching his tummy as he winced. "Food…so dry. Need…refreshments…thirsty…"

Abby held the boy to keep him from fading, and Wally pulled at his hair frantically as he tried to find a soda-wielding hamster. "Hey! Someone! Anyone! We need caffeine! STAT!"

"Woof woof!"

Abby and Wally flinched as a large, old English sheepdog border collie mix seemed to appear out of nowhere. The dog wagged its tail, their shaggy, brown coat rustling under the light breeze. Attached to its collar was a wooden barrel with a first aid sticker slapped on. The dog trotted forth, brushing past the bewildered teens to sniff loudly around Hoagie's face.

"Ugh," Hoagie continued to groan. His hand trembled against the dog's soft fur. "That you…boy?"

The dog mumbled an excited woof! Atop its head, a hamster sporting a nurse cap sprouted up from its fur. The critter climbed down the dog's neck, plopping a straw inside the barrel's nozzle. It jumped onto Hoagie's forehead and slammed the straw into his mouth before giving a thumbs up.

With a tilt of its head, the dog panted happily as ice-cold root beer flowed from its barrel into Hoagie's mouth. The boy greedily gulped mouthful after mouthful of the sweet carbonated nectar, his skin flush with new vigor as he sucked down the brew.

Abby and Wally watched transfixed until rustling behind them tore their attention away. A large platoon of food soldiers marched towards them, and the two sector V veterans readied themselves for a fight. Suddenly, Hoagie stepped past them, back on his feet and walking forth with purposeful strides. With each step his stomach rumbled, and he clenched his lips together as he positioned himself between his friends and the food army.

Finally, right as the food lunged for the kill, it happened.

The ground shook beneath their feet as Hoagie unleashed a legendary super burp. It started as a low rumble, building up from the depths of his stomach like a volcano about to erupt. Abby and Wally braced themselves, unsure of what to expect from their friend's exaggerated display of gastric power. Then, with a thunderous roar, the burp exploded forth from Hoagie's mouth like a sonic blast. Shockwaves rippled through the air, knocking back Stuffum's army like mere ants in a hurricane. The force of the burp was so intense that cracks formed in the earth beneath them. The sound was deafening, echoing across the battlefield with a reverberating boom that seemed to shake the very heavens. The entire universe paused for a moment to bear witness to Hoagie's monumental belch.

As the echoes faded away, the food platoon lay scattered and defeated, their ranks decimated by the sheer power of Hoagie's burp. Abby and Wally stared in awe at their friend, who stood tall amidst the wreckage with a triumphant grin on his face.

"That was…amazing," Wally said, his voice filled with admiration.

Abby wrinkled her face in hesitant agreement. "I guess that's one way to put it."

Hoagie chuckled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "As a wise man once said: better out than in." Suddenly the sheepdog tackled him to the ground, licking at his face while he laughed. "Ah, DJ! Who's a good boy? It's you! Yes it is!"

Abby and Wally shared a look. "Uh, who is this big fella?"

"Guys, it's DJ."

"…DJ?"

"Hoagie P. Gilligan Junior-Junior. Double J? DJ? Get it?" Hoagie explained as he gave the best boy ear scritches. "He's my dog."

"…you have a dog? Since when?"

"Since always. Duh."

Wally frowned. "You do not have a dog."

Hoagie slowly arched a brow. "Um, clearly I do."

"Baby, I've checked in on your house like, every week these past couple of years," Abby butted in, her skepticism evident. "I ain't never seen no dog."

"Eh, he likes to wander," Hoagie shrugged. "Ya probably just missed him."

"How the crud could we miss a dog that big—wait," Wally blinked, realizing the mutt vanished. "Where did he go!?"

"Ah, classic DJ. A real free spirit, that one," Hoagie said fondly. At his friend's shocked faces, he held up his hands. "Hey, I know what you're thinking, but don't worry; he's fixed!"

"…are you gaslighting us right now?"

"Okay, you guys are being weird," Hoagie grumbled. He tidied his belt, flexed his SPORK utensils, and grinned before running back into battle. "Whelp, thirst has been quenched. Time for another plate!"

Abby and Wally stood gobsmacked as Hoagie dived back into the food, having gotten his second wind. They looked across the field, seeing Kuki surfing along a tidal wave of hamsters, and Nigel piloting a paladin mech crafted from his flock of chickens.

Wally stuffed his hands in his pockets, kicking rocks as he eyed his friends enviously. "Man, how come we never had any pets?"

"I mean, Numbuh 5's older brother owns a small ranch upstate…" she said stroking her chin. Come to think of it, her big bro did promise her a pony back before she joined the Kids Next Door. Might be worth cashing in on that if she survived this. A thought occurred to her as she looked at Wally. "And didn't you have something going on with Mr. Fishy?"

Wally cringed. "I, uh, don't wanna talk about Mr. Fishy…"

Atop Kuki's head, nestled between her twin buns, Joaquin held his tiny cane righteously as they surged into battle. Kuki strode upon a moving mass of hamsters; them nibbling up everything in their path, and she slashing airborne casseroles with her scythe. Exhilaration coursed through Joaquin's veins. He stood tall, basking in the adrenaline fueling every fiber of his tiny being. The wind whipped across his whiskers, he was on top of the world.

Only to be knocked off of it when a stray hot dog missile burst alongside them, sending him flying. Kuki surfed on unaware, and he braced himself for a rough landing. A streak of white zipped under him, and he glanced up to find himself astride the feather puff of the leader hen.

Joaquin chuckled, whiskers twitching in embarrassment. "Thanks for the save, Mother Hen."

"Oh, you flatterer. You know it's Percy when it's just us," Percy clucked teasingly as she glided to the ground. Her feet dug into a grilled cheese minion, and she feverishly pecked its face off while it crashed to the ground. "The flock's assisting Mommy with that oversized pastry. The rest of my Hen Pecked Squadron is providing support against the frozen fiend."

Joaquin climbed atop her bonnet, surveying the field. True to her report, a large percentage of hens had flocked around Numbuh One, forming a giant suit of paladin armor to fend off the cake. He peered in the opposite direction, seeing a joint force of hamsters and chickens battering against the ice cream monster.

Percy fluttered off the grilled cheese corpse and tucked low as she began weaving through the chaos. "Numbuh 6 is still engaged with Slamwitch. Shall we assist?"

"Affirmative. I don't like his odds against that thing," Joaquin's eyes narrowed, recalling the last time he faced the giant fat-filled abomination. However, he paused, catching sight of a lone hamster pup getting ambushed. He tugged desperately at Percy's bonnet. "Belay that order! Divert course!"

A young, white, and gold-furred hamster wearing a pink scarf squealed as she threw herself against the gut of a spinach soldier. Using her teeth, she gnawed and chewed through its insides, emerging on the other side with bulgy cheeks as the monster crumpled over. She took a moment to swallow, baring her fangs viciously at the remaining two.

She reeled back as Percy charged forth, flapping her wings furiously. Her beak gouged out one soldier's pickled eyes. Her feet cut through the stringy neck of the other one. Within a matter of seconds, she stood proudly over a pile of shredded spinach, preening and cleaning herself in the aftermath. Joaquin carefully lowered himself down and hobbled towards the young hamster.

"Grandpa!" the young one greeted happily. Joaquin grabbed her head, and she protested as he began picking and nibbling through her matted fur. "S-Stop! You're gonna embarrass me in front of the guys!"

"What are you doing here, Pashmina?" Joaquin frowned as he fussed. "You're way too young to be here!"

Pashmina gave him a warning nibble as her nose twitched. "Stop treating me like I'm still a pup. Me and the other Ham-Hams are here to help!"

Joaquin grumbled. "Bradley told you about this mission, didn't he?"

"Um…" Pashmina nervously chuckled. Her beady eyes widened in terror as he pointed in the distance. "Oh no, Uncle Bradley!"

Joaquin and Percy turned to see Slamwitch savagely pummeling Bradley, the poor skunk raising his robotic arm to shield against the blows. But with every strike, they noticed the subtle twitch of his knees and the sweat trailing down his brow. Joaquin snapped his face to Percy. "Quick, the EGGAPULT!"

Percy nodded. She craned back her neck and squawked, "BRING IN BIG MOMMA!"

Near the rear of the battlefield, a contingent of hamsters readied the EGGAPULT, the enormous egg-flinging gizmo primed for battle. A large, hen-house platform strolled in behind it, the walls falling to reveal a massive, rotund bus-sized chicken: the lovely Big Momma herself. A rooster general cawed, and the hamsters formed a ramp connecting the EGGAPULT to Big Momma's platform. Her face contorted. From below, a hatch opened to release a stream of eggs. They rolled down the hamsters' backs seamlessly into the EGGAPULT, and the rooster cawed again and rained yolk down upon Slamwitch.

The sandwich horror brought both its fists up to hammer down one final time against his stinky opponent. Atop his crown, Stuffum rubbed her hands together and giggled as she awaited Bradley's end. Both her and her creation, however, were interrupted as they were goopified by a kajillion farm fresh eggs.

Seeing an opening, Bradly made a tactical retreat while Slamwitch was blinded. He jumped, rolled, and sprinted on all fours until he regrouped with his companions. He smiled at Joaquin and Percy as he tipped his fedora. "While I appreciate the save, fellas, I think I had him. Gimme some credit."

Joaquin growled, hopping up to rap his crane against Bradley's skull. "I'll give ya something, alright! What's the big idea, bringing my granddaughter out here?"

"Hey, you said find all willing hamsters, and she was more than willing," Bradley snipped as he rubbed his temple. "'Sides, you were right Joaquin. The Pets Next Door have been sitting out the fight for too long. They're ready."

Pashmina puffed her chest proudly as she peeked out from Percy's bonnet. "Yeah! We can do this!"

Joaquin hesitated. "I just—"

A massive roar made them jump, and the group gasped as Slamwitch charged forth to trample them. He lifted his massive, rotten foot to stomp them out, only to, again, be assailed by ranged support. Only, instead of eggs, it was a massive storm of fire-tipped toothpicks.

Joaquin and the others perked at the wail of a rallying horn. Then, cresting the hillside, a massive army of guinea pigs marched into the fray armed with plastic knife spears, and paperclip bows, and astride various breeds of dogs. The largest of them, a guinea pig adorned in hardened, ceremonial papier-mâché armor, hopped off his poodle and went to greet his allies.

"Chief Guinea Pig!" Pashmina was the first to scurry up and welcome the new face. She smiled up at him, eyes sparkling. "You're here!"

The new, young head of the Guinea Pig tribe took off his helmet and gently took Pashmina's paw, planting a chaste kiss upon it. "Ah, where else would I be, my dear Pashmina? When I heard you were in peril, I mustered my army and summoned my father's Royal Gerbil Warriors without nary a delay. The stinkiest roll of Gouda could not keep me from your beautiful side!"

"And you came to honor the treaty I made with your father," Joaquin said, forcibly stepping between the two to glare heatedly up at the young, brazen chief. "Right?"

Chief Guinea Pig sheepishly brushed over his fur as Pashmina giggled behind her grandfather. "O-Oh, but of course, sir! That's, like, eighty percent the reason I came.

Joaquin growled.

"N-Ninety! I-I meant to say ninety percent!"

Joaquin quirked a brow.

"…please don't hurt me. My intentions are noble!"

Joaquin groaned, dragging a paw down his face. "We'll see about that. Where did the dogs come from?"

"Oh, that was me. Just called in some favors."

Joaquin turned to the new voice, smiling as he gazed up at Hoagie's shaggy dog. "Glad you could make it, DJ."

"I was in the neighborhood," DJ said as he casually scratched behind his ears. "Plus I gotta make sure to look after the boys for Betty."

A surging warmth overwhelmed Joaquin as his allies gathered around. Animals from all walks of life came together for the most important mission in any pet's life: protecting their human children. In their brief existence, good and responsible children showered their pets with care, shelter, and the occasional extra treat when adults weren't looking. The Pets Next Door was originally formed to return this kindness, and for the last few years, fear for their safety had kept them hidden away while their human families suffered alone.

That would end today.

Bradley stepped beside Joaquin and smirked knowingly. "Just give us the word, Soopreme Squeaker, sir."

Joaquin nodded, confidently gripping his cane as he climbed atop a fallen lawn statue.

"For years, in return for giving us warm homes and sneaking us their leftover veggies, we pets have willingly powered treehouses and various 2x4 gadgets for kids worldwide," Joaquin said, his voice carrying a commanding timber as he addressed the army. "But we are far more than cute batteries!"

Pashmina and her fellow hamsters cheered affirmatively.

"We cuddle up to them when they are sad. We chase away the boogeymen the adults cannot see. Kids are more than just our owners, they are our friends." He paused. "They are our flock."

Percy clucked proudly.

"They are our allies."

Chief Guinea Pig raised his spear, his tribe rallying behind him.

"They are our family."

DJ reared back his head and howled and Bradley flexed his busy tail.

"Years ago, Auntie Five disbanded our order. Stopped our field operations. When we lost our comrades to the Fire Man, she and other kids coddled and collared us because they didn't want to lose us. Because they were afraid." Joaquin lowered his head, biting back his shame. "And we…I let her because I was afraid too. It was so much easier to just sit back and live the good life, roll around in fresh cedar chips while they picked up our droppings. I was content to be a mere house pet."

There was a low murmur among the rank and file, a slow admittance to the hard truth behind Joaquin's words.

"But no more!" Joaquin silenced any doubts with a smack of his cane. "When fear takes hold, I will not flee, I will fight! I'm tired of them dismissing us! I'm tired of laying around and doing nothing. If I die today, then I will die like any proud hamster should: cheeks stuffed, belly full, and knowing I gave it my all to protect my kid!"

Excitement and pride washed over the army, hamsters chomping at the bit, dogs and puppies wagging their tails, and hens and guinea pigs clucking in solidarity.

"We stand here today not just as pets, but as fluffy warriors against tyranny!" Joaquin's voice echoed across the assembled animal army, resonating with determination and resolve. "Our loyalty to our human children knows no bounds. We will not allow them to suffer while we sit idly by, content with our comforts. No longer will we be relegated to the sidelines, ignored and underestimated!"

He raised his cane high. "Today, we reclaim our honor! Today, we prove that we are more than just pets. Today, we prove that we are Pets Next Door!"

The animals roared in response, their voices joining together in a cacophony of determination and unity.

Joaquin looked down from his perch, seeing Pashmina bustling with vigor and gumption. His eyes softened, recalling how not long ago she was just a pink, naked pup also nestling into his fur. Now, he didn't see that timid little pup anymore. With a smirk, he used the hook of his cane, lifting the surprised hamster to his side.

"Pashmina," Joaquin said, pride overflowing as he held up his granddaughter. "Would you do the honors?"

Pashmina gasped before hardening her face and turning to the gathered animal armada.

"PETS NEXT DOOR!" she screamed loud and proud. "BATTLE STATIONS!"

As the rallying cry echoed across the battlefield, the clash between the Pets Next Door and Gramma Stuffum's living food army erupted into a chaotic frenzy. Hamsters scurried, guinea pigs charged, chickens pecked, and dogs barked, all while the towering Slamwitch, Ice Cream Turtle, and Pound Cake Scorpion loomed menacingly over the fray.

Percy and her hens pecked ferociously at any moldy fruit that dared to roll their way, while DJ barked orders to his fellow canine companions, coordinating their attacks with military precision. Pashmina, fueled by the adrenaline of battle, darted between scoops of ice cream, her pink scarf trailing behind her as she and her Ham-Hams slowly nibbled away at the Ice Cream Turtle's coned feet with fearless determination. They stopped, shaking off brain freeze, before lunging in for another attack

Joaquin, ever the strategic mind, directed the hamsters and guinea pigs in a coordinated assault on the pound cake scorpion, their tiny plastic weapons clashing against its sugary armor. Meanwhile, Chief Guinea Pig and his Royal Gerbil Warriors mounted a valiant charge, their plastic knife spears slicing through the remaining spinach soldiers while archers rained down fire on the singed ham boars.

Amidst the chaos of the food fight, Bradley sailed through mustard smog and redoubled his efforts against Slamwitch. With his cybernetic left eye gleaming, he targeted with deadly precision, firing lasers that sliced through Slamwitch's gooey cheese and seared through its soggy toast torso.

But it wasn't just Bradley alone. By his side stood his devoted partner, her fur bristling with determination as she unleashed potent stink plumes from her rear end, adding a pungent punch to their offensive barrage. Bradley looked at his mate in awe, her having to bat his face with her tail to concentrate his efforts on the battle.

Behind them, their five children rallied together, each one armed with their unique abilities. The eldest skunk, a fearless leader like his father, charged head-first into a platoon of Brussels sprouts. The twins, with their quick reflexes and nimble agility, darted between the food monsters, conjoining their tails to trip up fried pork bellies, only their brother to lunge down to rip and tear. The youngest baby, still learning the ways of battle, provided support from the sidelines, waving pom-poms to cheer on their parents and siblings with unwavering enthusiasm.

Chunks of dirt and rotten beef scattered across the field as Joaquin carefully assessed the situation. A pained squeak halted his tracks. He looked over to see two hamsters struggling to help their friend escape a mouse trap. Joaquin frowned, taking long strides before slamming his cane down, and crushing the metal hinge. The three hamsters cheered, two shouldering their injured comrade. Joaquin sighed, relieved, only to tense as the three hamsters trembled at something lurking behind him.

"Well, well, well, isn't this a purr-fect little reunion."

His whiskers bristled as he turned to snarl upon five muzzles he hoped to never see again. "I figured you five were slinking around here somewhere."

The Sinister Felines From Atop the Litterbox lazily encircled Joaquin and the hamster cadets, trapping them in a ring as they snickered and hungrily licked their chops. They moved in eerie unison, still mimicking their previous owners. Their eyes held a malevolent gleam, ears tucked back and taking delight at how the young hamsters shivered in their presence.

Joaquin quietly analyzed the Hamsters Next Door's arch-enemies, noting that the years hadn't been kind to them either. As they closed in, their leader, a sleek black cat with piercing blue eyes, stepped forward, a smug smirk playing on her lips.

"Well, well, well," she purred, her voice dripping with condescension. "If it isn't the mighty Joaquin, leader of the Rats Next Door. What are you doing out here in the real world, little hamster? Thought you'd stick to your cozy little enclosure, like the sniveling coward you are."

Joaquin squared his shoulders, refusing to show any sign of fear. "We're here to protect our humans, just like we always do."

The black cat chuckled, a sound like nails on a chalkboard. "Protecting your humans? Ha! You fools are so naive. Your precious humans don't care about you. They'll replace you as soon as you're no longer cute and cuddly."

Another feline, an orange cat, snickered as he regarded Joaquin's elderly visage. "It appears he's not that far off, sister."

The other felines joined in with mocking laughter, their voices a cacophony of disdain.

Joaquin clenched his tiny paws. "Look who's talking."

The Sinister Felines From Atop the Litterbox bore the unmistakable signs of neglect etched into their mangy fur and haggard frames. Their once sleek coats were now matted and greasy, tangled with knots and patches of missing fur. Dirt and muck clung to their paws and faces, forming a grimy mask that obscured their features. Their eyes, once bright and vibrant, now held a dull, lifeless gaze, betraying the years of indifference and neglect they had endured. Every movement was sluggish and lethargic, a stark contrast to the graceful agility that cats were known for.

It was a haunting sight, a reminder of the consequences of neglect and abandonment, even for creatures as proud and independent as The Sinister Felines.

The lead feline growled at the hamster's remark. "You mock us in a pathetic attempt to ignore the truth. Take a good long look, rodent." She stood on her hind legs, exposing her belly to display the bony ribs stark against her skin. "This is the fate that awaits you once your humans grow bored of you."

Joaquin grimaced. "I know you had it bad—"

"Don't you dare pity us!" the felines yowled, voices in sync as they began to rave. "The Patriarch singed our hides and tossed us out on the street! Us, elite purebreds domesticated from birth left to claw and fend for ourselves in this retched, unforgiving world. And where were our children, rat? Did they come looking for us? Come to bring us home? No! They forgot about us!"

"That's not true," Joaquin protested. "Your children were flushed!"

"You speak of things you don't know," the cats snarled. "You spout lies like the filthy human sympathizer you are."

"No kid would ever willingly abandon their pets!"

The Sinister Felines cruelly laughed. "Oh, you're so sheltered it's almost depressing. Here's a little reality check for you, Joaquin. We animals? We are not pets to children. We are simply accessories. We are toys for their amusement in the brief, miserable amount of existence they allot to us."

"Maybe that's how it was for you, but not for us!" Joaquin countered. "We have real bonds with our humans. We're more than just simple playthings!"

The cats' smirks widened into malicious grins. "Oh, how quaint. But mark our words, your loyalty to your humans will be your downfall. They'll abandon you, just like they abandoned us."

"I'm not here to talk in circles with you creeps." Joaquin swung out his cane, motioning towards the food war happening in the background. "I've got bigger fish to fry. Plenty of grub to go around, so help yourselves and scat, cats!"

"Oh, we intend to gorge on this buffet, don't you fret," they all grinned, drool dripping from their maws as their pupils dilated. "But we prefer…LIVE PREY!"

With a flick of their tails, the Sinister Felines lunged forward, claws unsheathed and teeth bared, ready to attack. One skirted around Joaquin, aiming for the throats of the injured Ham-Hams.

But despite his age, Joaquin was quick. He leaped into their air, delivering a solid roundhouse cat that knocked several teeth loose from the cat as it went sprawling to the ground. The shocking display of skill paralyzed the cats with hesitation.

"Go help the others, that's an order," Joaquin commanded as he landed. He felt his bones crack in protest, but his face showed no signs of pain. "Leave these fleabags to me."

The cadets made a retreat as Joaquin stood his ground. He may have been small, but his spirit was unyielding. The Sinister Felines joined in a singular formation and lunged forth as Joaquin twirled and attacked with his cane.

Across the small moat, Nigel faced off the pound cake with the help of his suit of hen armor. He and the chickens hacked and slashed, parrying the monster's cookie-cutter tail before slicing it off with a downward slash. The cake wailed, icing and frosting flying everywhere. It scuttled forth on its candle legs, making wild slashes with its pincers. One arm of the hen suit formed into a shield, while the other detached itself. The flying hand scooped up the cake's tail, and cut through its backside.

Chief Guinea Pig and his tribe had the Ice Cream Turtle on the back foot, launching volley after volley of flaming toothpicks while DJ and his hound dogs rushed in to bite and lick at its feet. From behind, Hoagie used the distraction to scale the monster's waffle-cone shell with the arms of his SPORK. One hand used a SPICER to fire and soften the monster's armor, and the other held a tied-together six-pack of root beer. As he crested the monster's head, he tossed himself over, swinging the root beer down into its confused mouth. With a chuckle, he fired with his SPICER, causing a chain reaction that detonated the soda, taking off the monster's head in a wonderful, carbonated blast.

Slamwitch continued his relentless assault under Gramma Stuffum's discretion. He stomped downward, quaking the ground and sending hamster forces scattering like popcorn. He grabbed a handful of them, making to swallow them in one gulp before Kuki leaped up, screaming wildly as she slashed through his macaroni fingers. He reared back in pain, Stuffum cursing like a lunatic as Abby and Wally provided covering fire from below.

Abby used the moment to reload her BIRDIE while Wally hopped up to catch his boomerangs. Kuki rolled in beside them, scraping off bits of hardened pasta from her ROADSIGN. A herd of onion rings rolled in to crush them, only to be instantly devoured by the horde of hamsters Kuki had just freed from Slamwitch.

The little darlings swamped Kuki, the girl giggling as she hugged them. Abby lowered her rifle, bemused at the sight. "You were right, Numbuh 3. These little guys do work hard."

"Look at them!" Kuki squealed, too caught up in the cuteness to properly react. She held up a particularly chubby hamster and tickled its belly. "They're so adorable!"

Wally tapped his chin. "Yeah, it's cool they're here and all, but how the crud did they get up here?"

Above the Delightful Carrier, breaking through the clouds, a flying cruise ship hovered through the sky, partially eclipsing the luster of the moon. The massive KOLOSSALINER slowly aimed its canons down towards the field and fired a flurry of armored hamster balls. They slammed into the ground, creating tiny craters as they unleashed more hungry hamsters for the feast.

From the cockpit of the KOLOSSALINER, a hamster wearing an oversized pilot's cap peered through a telescope. Seeing their companions land safely, they scurried across the console to squeak into a microphone.

"Pilot to bombardier. Pilot to bombardier," the hamster squeaked cutely, "do you copy?"

"I copy, pilot," was the response over the intercom. "Did the last of the reinforcements land okay?"

The pilot nodded, despite it being an unseen gesture. "Yep! It's just us on the ship now."

"Awesome," the bombardier replied. "This is so much fun!"

"Yeah! They should let us fly these things more often. I only nearly crashed us twice."

"Hey, do you think the Moonbase will be mad we hijacked this ship?"

"Nah, I left them, like, ten sunflower seeds," the pilot waved off. "Fair trade."

"Oh, that sounds super fair," the bombardier agreed. "Hey, once we're done saving the day, we should fly to sector J; it's free mango smoothie day."

"Numbuh 6 to air support, do you read me?"

The pilot blinked, whiskers twitching cutely as it trotted over to another intercom. "Hi, Uncle Bradley! Can we go get smoothies after we're done kicking butt?"

"Uh, sure. Why not," Bradley carefully responded. A muffled explosion went off over the line, and it was a moment before he spoke again. "But first you guys have gotta drop the payload. We got the three uglies crammed together, so it's now or never!"

"Okie dokie!" the pilot said with a salute, even though it would go unacknowledged. It switched intercoms. "Bombardier, you may launch the payload at will!"

"Right!" There was a moment of silence. "How do I do that again?"

The pilot scratched its cheek as it switched intercoms. "Uncle Bradley, how do we launch the payload?"

"Press the green button!"

"…what's 'green'?"

"What do mean what's—oh shoot," Bradley suddenly stopped, voice becoming sheepish. "That's right, you guys are color blind. I did not think this through…"

The pilot turned to the radar as it started beeping. She squinted her beady eyes, noticing the big dot labeled, "THIS IS YOU" and three smaller dots aptly designated, "THESE ARE BAD GUYS". To her dismay, the distance between the dots was widening. They were about to lose their window.

Panic crept into the pilot's voice. "Uncle Bradley!"

"Give me a second to think and—" The cyborg skunk was cut off by another series of explosions. When his voice returned, it was equally frantic as he shouted. "No time! Just hurry and press the buttons!"

"But which ones!?"

"ALL OF THEM!"

The pilot scrambled to the other intercom. "Bombardier, Uncle Bradley says to press all the buttons!"

"Um, okay!" was the hesitant reply. "Let's, uh, try this one first…"

The entire airship trembled, the pilot pinwheeling her tiny paws to steady herself. All at once, a bunch of lights flickered in quick succession followed by a series of klaxon alarms. She smiled. "Hey, I think that did something. What did you press?"

"I don't know. Chicken scratch is easier to read than human," the bombardier hamster mumbled over the airwaves. "I think it says…Blow Up Engines."

"Cool," the pilot replied. After a moment, her eyes shrunk in horror. "Wait—"

Ribbons of explosions erupted from the KOLOSSALINER's hull, the spectacle causing an unintentional ceasefire below. All eyes, human, animal, and mutant food alike looked up in parts awe and panic as the massive commandeered cruise ship dipped and dove toward the battlefield. While the helicarrier dwarfed the KOLOSAILNER in sheer size, a flaming, giant hunk of metal crashing towards you at an accelerating rate would take the wind out of your sails, no matter the circumstances.

The Ice Cream Turtle, Pound Cake Scorpion, and Slamwitch would realize this one second too late. So caught up in watching the airship fall, they failed to take into account that it was headed straight towards them. It was their last blunder, for the KOLOSAILNER smacked straight into Slamwitch, the force of the blow detonating the payload inside, taking him and his giant brethren out a giant wave of searing Diablo hot sauce.

Above the chaos, the former pilot and bombardier fluttered safely toward the ground with their boxer-brief parachutes, managing to eject just at the last second.

The pilot looked down at the carter, the smoke clearing to reveal that the tree titans were nothing more than melted slop, burnt toast, and crispy batter. She grinned. "Well, guess that was the right button after all."

"You said it," the bombardier agreed. "You think Uncle Bradley will still get us mango smoothies?"

"He better! Blowing up airplanes and giant monsters made me thirsty."

Not far away from the blast zone, sector V managed to pick themselves up and looked at the wreckage, faces locked in various degrees of shock. Hoagie recovered first, laughing up a storm. "Holy smokes, the little critters did it!"

Nigel shook his head, recovering from the stupor and re-upping his game face. "No time for pets and head scritches; we've got to press the advantage while we have it. Kids Next Door: Charge!"

Joaquin panted heavily as he held off the Sinister Felines. His cane clinked and parried their claw swipes, his feet moved frantically to duck and weave every swipe. The Felines were vicious and savage with their scratches, but his experience and battle instinct managed to match them blow for blow.

But no matter how much gumption and determination he mustered, his age was catching up far too quickly. His frail body, already well past what adults considered prime for a hamster, was wearing thin with each flip and twirl. Just when it seemed he had the cats lined up for a super rad combo that would dispatch five enemies in one swoop, his back decided now was the perfect time to call it quits.

He went down, yelping in pain as he dropped his cane. His foes showed no mercy, snickering as they retracted their claws. The five surrounded him, roughly batting him between one another as if he were another of their little toys.

"You must forgive us, rat," they taunted. They were on their backs, using their hind legs to bunny kick and juggle the poor hamster in the air. "But it's been far too long since we've been able to play with our food."

They sent in flying with one swift kick, then immediately leaped into the air to smack him down. Joaquin landed with a thud, air rushing from his lungs as he pathetically wheezed against the sodden grass.

"Aw, is the widdle hamster too tuckered out?" they cooed as they sauntered up to him. Joaquin spasmed under their glower. Tiny seizures wracked his body and pain exploded behind his eyes as his paws went numb. The Felines merely chuckled, enjoying the spectacle. "And it appears his five little friends aren't here to save him this time."

Despite the agony, Joaquin forced an eye open to glare at them. There…there was no way they knew—

"Oh, we do," they jeered as if reading his mind. They loafed in front of him, assured he wouldn't be recovering anytime soon. Four of the Felines leisurely groomed themselves as the leader extended a claw, using it to tilt Joaquin's chin.

Joaquin's eyes locked with hers, and her fangs glistened in the night as she grinned. "Gossip travels fast among us strays. What a delightful little tragedy; brash and bold Joaquin braving the Patriarch's fire to save his precious human whelps."

Her eyes were mirrors, reflecting his trembling, panicked expression. The similarity between his face now and all those years ago when staring down the flames at the Boo-Boo Grove… was uncanny.

"Only to falter in the face of adversity. He fumbled and fell, destined to meet a coward's end…only to be spared by his five friends who decided to take his place."

It was like he was there all over again: a burning branch falling in his way, paralyzing him with fear. The flames began to circle him like a snake, and Joaquin froze under the heat. It was the end. Those flames would be his undoing. He would die the spineless gerbil he was.

And then they sprang into action. His friends, sector V's own Hamsters Next Door. Each one mimicked a child of the human team, going into seamless formation to pull him from death's jaws. Their last act of heroism was forever seared into his mind. His thoughts at the time had been for his skin, his own life. Their last thoughts were far less selfless as they held back the flames as they ordered him to run.

Joaquin clenched his eyes shut in shame.

"There, there. It's all over now. Let's reunite you." The Leader readied her other paw, claws extending and glinting in the low light. "Time to put you to sleep, old man."

"NOW!"

The Sinister Felines yowled in surprise as they were assailed by a flurry of young hamsters. From the bushes, Pashmina and her Ham-Hams ambushed the cats, delivering precise kicks, punches, and bites as they entangled them in yards upon yards of hot pink string. It wasn't long before the Felines were contained, dizzy, and dazed as they were trapped in a giant ball of yarn.

"Try and scratch your way out of this, you mean ol' cats," Pashmina spat at the Felines before jumping down towards Joaquin. "Grandpa, are you okay?"

"I'm…" Joaquin was hesitant as she helped him to his feet. "I'm…fine, Pashmina. Good work."

She smiled, preening under the praise. "Gosh, well, it was all thanks to your distraction! Man, you sure had them fooled! My Grandpa, the Great Joaquin, being afraid? They must have been tripping off of bad catnip!"

Joaquin was quiet, averting his eyes. Pashmina blinked, whiskers twitching worriedly. Before she pressed the issue, Bradley landed alongside them, and Joaquin leaped on him as a diversion. "Numbuh 6, status report."

"We got 'em on the run, sir," Bradley relayed proudly. "Slamwitch and his cronies are down. Sector V is clear to rush the Manor!"

"Now that's what I like to hear." Joaquin smiled. He looked up to see Percy, Chief Guinea Pig, and other animal allies gathering around. He raised a trembling fist in the air. "Let's watch their backs and make mince meat of these leftovers. Pets Next Door? Time to dig in!"

As the pets began tearing into what was left of the Food Army, Gramma Stuffum screamed, sailing through the air and landing on her rump with glasses cracked, hair askew, and cooking apron drenched in sizzling hot sauce. Grumbling, she stood and gripped the edges of her gown, seething as she saw the dishes she slaved over being gobbled up by sloppy savages.

The Pets Next Door wasted no time in swooping in to capitalize. With voracious appetites and adorable cunning, they tore through the remaining ranks of food zombies and culinary creations with a ferocity that surprised even sector V. Chickens pecked at pies, guinea pigs slurped up noodles, and dogs scarfed up any remaining moose-cicles with slobbering precision.

Gramma Stuffum watched in horror as her meticulously crafted army crumbled before her, reduced to mere morsels for the ravenous animals. Her plans for culinary domination lay in ruins as the Pets Next Door reclaimed the battleground for the children they swore to protect.

Meanwhile, sector V pressed onward through the remnants of Stuffum's once-formidable food blockade. As they advanced, Nigel spared a moment to glance back to the scene behind them. Amidst the flurry of feathers and fur, he caught sight of Joaquin, the fearless leader of the Pets Next Door, directing his troops with unwavering squeaks and huffs.

Despite their size, they fought with the heart of giants, proving that heroes come in all shapes and species.

The two leaders shared a look. Joaquin managed to give a thumbs up and the boy saluted in return. With a nod of respect to their furry allies, Nigel turned back to the task at hand, knowing that the battle was far from over.

"My wonderful feast," Gramma Stuffum cried, falling to her knees and raging at the night sky. "Ruined by filthy, disease-ridden mongrels!"

"Granny!" Her liver lieutenant and onion generals waddled to her. They cowered behind her gown, trying to appear small and unseen as hungry hamsters stalked the field and ate up anything appetizing. "T-They're eating us out of house and home! What do we do now?"

"I did not come all this way to have my cooking go unappreciated," she pouted. She slammed shut her cookbook and began gathering her pots and pans. "We are leaving!"

As she turned to depart, a plume of fire exploded in front of her. From the smoke and soot emerged a very agitated-looking Father.

"You!" he growled, poking a smoking finger at her chest. "I hired you to cater for my venue, and now I've got dirty little rodents slobbering and pooping on my lawn! Do you have any idea how much it's gonna cost me to get pest control out here this late?" He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "See, this is why I do my own cooking. Last time I ever waste money on take-out."

"Take-out?" Gramma Stuffum reeled as if slapped. "The utter nerve! You dare to imply Gramma's gourmet spread is no better than cheap pick-up noodles and nuggets!?"

"Oh, pardon me, I didn't mean to 'imply' anything. Let me make myself crystal clear—YOUR COOKING STINKS!" he yelled, fire illuminating his physique and making him at least 30% more menacing. "I only hired you to make my good-for-nothing nephew all fat and helpless, and you couldn't even do THAT right!"

"I signed up to feed naughty childrens—not smelly hamsters and chickens," Stuffum protested. Her stout hand gripped the spine of her cookbook, waving it threateningly at the burning man. "This is in clear violation of my terms and conditions!"

"Independent contractors; never again," Father vowed, exasperated. He swiped her the cookbook and furiously flipped through its pages. "You mean to tell me this stupid paperweight doesn't have anything that can handle some flea-ridden—oh ho?"

Father paused, stopping at the very last page of the tome as ancient, archaic text caught his eye. "What do we have here?"

"No!" Stuffum violently stole the book back from Father. She cradled it like a newborn babe in one arm while the other wielded a sharp butcher knife defensively. "We must never use that recipe. It is forbidden!"

"Forbidden, eh?" Father gently used a finger to point the knife away, the metal melting at his touch as he stalked closer. "Now that has my taste buds a-tinglin'."

"You meddle with things you do not understand, fool! To summon It would mean the end of all things. It is not meant to be eaten; It is the One Whom Eats. Its hunger is all-consuming, Its appetite insatiable! It is the ultimate delicacy of death and destruction, the culmination of Gramma's culinary depravity made manifest!"

Father raised a brow. "Then why did you make the recipe?"

"Oh, we all do crazy things in college," Stuffum giggled with a wave of her hand. Her face went stern. "If It is summoned to this mortal plane, it will not stop until it devours all the skinny childrens of the world!"

"…sure, I can live with that." Father held out his hand expectantly. "Gimme."

"Did you not listen to a word I said? It is not like my perfect Slamwitch. It will obey no one; not even me!"

Father tucked his hands in the pockets of his silhouette, pouting and kicking at the rubble. "Well, shucks, when you put it that way, I guess we might as well just pack it up and—WHAT THE HECK IS THAT!?"

Gramma Stuffum gasped, frantically scouring the field. Father's boot connected with her backside, and she as her minions screamed as they went blazing across the sky. Her voice faded as she disappeared into the horizon, a smoking sizzle in the night sky. Her cookbook clattered to the ground, and Father dragged his foot across the ground as he picked it up.

"AND YOU CAN KISS YOUR COMMISSION GOODBYE!" He composed himself before flipping through the book once more. As he landed on the final page, he put on a pair of tiny reading glasses and squinted his eyes. "Hmm, a little too Lovecraftian for my tastes…eh, beggars can't be choosers."

He picked up Stuffum's discarded spoon as he memorized the recipe. With a flick of his wrist, he set the utensil on fire; just for a personal touch of flair. Confident and ready, he cleared his throat and slammed against Stuffum's cauldron.

The eerie gong echoed over the helicarrier, all activity ceasing. The animals paused mid-bite, confused. Sector V stopped, bodies going tense as they saw Father himself had taken to the field.

Above, the clouds darkened to an inky black and began to swirl ominously as Father began chanting.

"Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Sub-Snakurath R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn." As Father stood before the cauldron, his voice took on an otherworldly resonance, sending shivers down the spines of all who heard it. The words he spoke were ancient, twisted tongues, a macabre melody that echoed through the helicarrier like the anguished cries of a thousand spanked souls. "Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Sub-Snakurath R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn!"

With each blasphemous word, the remnants of the three fallen food titans began to writhe and twist, their corrupted forms contorting in grotesque agony.

"With the whispers of spices and the screams of the yeast. From the pantry's dark depths, let your hunger feast."

The ice cream melted into a bubbling pool of black ichor, the pound cake scorpion's exoskeleton molded and crumbled, and Slamwitch's grilled and cheesy flesh rotted away to reveal a writhing mass of pasta tentacles and candy corn fangs.

"In sauce eternal It shall steep, but now, It awakens from slumber deep."

Sector V and the Pets Next Door watched in horror as the surviving entrees of the food army were consumed by the eldritch power, their screams of agony echoing in the night as their bodies were mutilated and torn from the inside out by an unseen force. The air grew thick with the stench of decay, and a chill wind swept through the helicarrier, carrying with it whispers of madness and despair.

"Devourer of worlds, in flavors grotesque. In the name of the feast, let the darkness coalesce!"

As the ritual reached its climax, a portal began to open above the cauldron, swirling with sickly green light. From its depths emerged a monstrous entity, a twisted amalgamation of food and flesh, its form shifting and pulsating with unholy energy. Its eyes glowed with malevolent hunger, and its mouth dripped with cream cheese ooze as it let out a deafening roar that shook the very foundations of reality.

"By the twisted recipes of ages long past," Father wailed. His inferno fueled the portal, allowing the beast to emerge and consume the withering mass and remains of the three former titans Stuffum had conjured. "Sub-Snackurath, emerge and BREAK YOUR FAST!"

Long, long ago, in the dark, dank recesses of a dorm room nestled deep in an old German culinary school, a younger Stuffum had reached out and connected with perverted food entities no mortal could comprehend. From beyond the realm of taste and flavor, a dark force guided her chopping hand, inscribing a forbidden ritual into her cookbook. She had become an unwitting sous chef to the malevolent Deep Cones, twisted eldritch junk foods that cared nothing more for the utter annihilation of all taste buds, and hungered for the end of all existence as we know it. In her moment of weakness, she had begun a decadently dark prophecy; a terrible food craving that would one day be fulfilled.

That day had finally arrived, as Sub-Snackurath, the One Whom Eats, emerged to devour all of reality. Its uncountable cherry pit eyes sneered downward, debating on starting with the foolish man who dared summon it.

Father stroked his chin, sizing up the food monster. "Huh. Was expecting you to be taller." He raised a brow at the gibbering croutons that bleed from the entity's pores, screaming unspeakable horrors. "…and gluten-free. Hm."

Sub-Snackurath shook with indignation, flickering between dimensions and forcing the children and animals to look away as their stomachs involuntarily writhed.

"Eh. Guess, you'll do." Father shrugged. He glared down at sector V. "Now, I'm not in the habit of repeating myself, so listen up. I want you to go over there and—"

With a space-bending wail, Sub-Snarckurath reared back its ever-shifting head to lunge forth to gobble Father in one bite. This puny little mortal thought it could tame its endless appetite? It would enjoy digesting this arrogant fool until the heat death of the universe itself—

There was a low whistle followed by a crackling explosion as a streak of fire effortlessly tore through Sub-Snackurath's gullet. The abomination blinked, then yelped in pain.

"DON'T INTERRUPT ME WHEN I'M TALKING, YOU MISERABLE LITTLE PASTRY!" Fire enveloped Father as he zipped in front of the creature's face, the heat akin to that of the sun as his red-hot eyes bored into its very being. "I brought you into this world, and I can take you out of it. DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR!?"

Sub-Snackurath meekly nodded, trembling like a scolded toddler.

"Good. Now, as I was saying before someone gave me lip," he growled, nodding in satisfaction as the creature flinched. He snapped his arm out, gesturing to the children and animals below and pointing to Nigel in particular. "Get down there and bring that boy me. Rough him up a bit if you need to, but I want him brought to me in one piece."

With a whimper, Sub-Snackurath used its tentacles to pathetically rub at its grumbling tummy.

Father rolled his eyes. "Fine, you can eat everyone else. I'm not heartless."

Sub-Snackurath panted happily as it licked its chops.

"But if I see so much as a nibble of Numbuh 1, I'll turn you into asparagus flambe. UNDERSTAND?" Sub-Snackurath wilted under Father's shout but nodded nonetheless. The adult impatiently snapped his fingers. "Then chop-chop! I don't have all night. I'm already cranky that I'm up past ten."

Sub-Snackurath composed itself. It took a moment to clear its throat, then roared as it turned and descended upon its new prey. Father idly watched on, taking a gentle puff of his pipe as he accessed the revised playing field.

"Hmm, wonder if that'll do it…" he mused to himself. This Sub-Snacky-thing seemed like quite the force to be reckoned with. While he honestly didn't place that much stock behind Stuffum's initial gambit, he figured it would at least soften the brats up. This monster, however…

He did promise his children their chance to get a few licks in before this was over. Though Sub-Snackurath was quite the beast…

Father shrugged. "Who am I kidding? I'm sure the brats will find some way to weasel out of this. They always do, the mangy whelps." His eyes darkened a tad, his lips quirking into a shadow of a smirk. "Though…I have a feeling they won't out completely unscathed this time."

With a sinister laugh that promised dark tidings, Father vanished in a puff of smoke.

Down below, sector V swayed and struggled to keep balance as the ground quaked in Sub-Snackurath's wake. Abby waved her arms, nearly falling over had Hoagie not caught her. She leaned on the portly boy, gazing up at the new terror with astonished fright. "What in the hell is that thing!?"

"I am in no hurry to find out," Nigel responded, face tightening with agitation.

"Pfft, it's just an overgrown eclair; ain't nothing scary about it," Wally scoffed. He puffed his chest, reaching inside his jacket to produce a SLUGGAH. He cocked back its boxing glove as he marched up towards the beast. "Hey! Snackzilla! Hungry? Well, I got a knuckle sandwich for ya right here!"

Sub-Snackurath was bemused by the brazen little boy. It slowly lowered its head, getting eye level with its blond soon-to-be morsel. A tense silence ensued, which shattered as the eldritch sub roared. The force blew Wally's hair back and frosting spittle drizzled against the boy's black pleather jacket.

The rest of sector V anxiously waited for Wally's response. After a moment, he slowly looked over his shoulder, face completely blank as he evenly said, "Yeah, this might take a while."

As Wally's words hung in the air, Sub-Snackurath let out a guttural roar that shook the very foundation of the helicarrier. Its form shifted and twisted, tentacles lashing out like monstrous tendrils of dough, each dripping with a viscous sauce that sizzled upon contact with the ground.

Nigel's eyes widened as he assessed the situation. "We need to take it down, now!" he shouted to his team, the urgency evident in his voice.

Sector V sprang into action. Wally charged forward with his SLUGGAH, unleashing a barrage of punches at Sub-Snackurath's gelatinous form. But each blow seemed to merely meld with the creature's ever-shifting mass, doing little to deter its advance.

Kuki sprang into action, her THUMPER weapon slung over her shoulder. With a determined gleam in her eye, she aimed the barrel at Sub-Snackurath and fired, sending a flurry of plush teddy bears hurtling toward the monstrous abomination. But as the soft toys bounced harmlessly off Sub-Snackurath, Kuki's heart sank. The explosive rounds she had switched to seemed to have little effect against the eldritch horror before them.

Abby gritted her teeth as she fired her BIRDIE rifle, the pellets searing through the air with deadly accuracy. But Sub-Snackurath seemed unfazed, its grotesque form pulsating with a sickening resilience as it continued its inexorable march.

Hoagie unleashed a barrage of food-based weaponry from his SPORK pack, hurling exploding meatballs and molten cheese grenades. Yet, the creature merely absorbed the onslaught, its hunger seemingly insatiable.

Nigel, recognizing the futility of their efforts, racked his brain for a solution. But before he could formulate a plan, Sub-Snackurath unleashed a devastating counterattack, its tentacles lashing out with ferocious intensity. Nigel and Kuki were knocked back by a powerful blow, their bodies tumbling through the air before crashing to the ground with sickening thuds. Abby cried out in pain as her leg was ensnared by Sub-Snackurath's tendrils, and she struggled to wrestle it free. Wally rushed to her aid, his fists flying as he pried her from the creature's grasp and fell back. Hoagie narrowly avoided being engulfed by a wave of molten icing, his SPORK pack whirring with frantic energy as he dodged and weaved through the chaos. But even his formidable arsenal seemed to have little effect. Noting Nigel and Kuki down, he used his SPORK arms to hurl himself over towards them.

Along with Wally and Abby, Hoagie managed to get Nigel and Kuki back on their feet. Any gestures of gratitude were cut short as Sub-Snackurath loomed overhead, its tentacles condensing into a spaghettified fist. Caught unawares, the best the group could do was huddle together and brace for impact.

Right as it was about to bring the hammer down, a stream of root beer collided with Sub-Snackurath's backside. Growling, it turned to face the interruption, only to have its face showered in more soda streams.

A platoon of hamsters held their soda cans steady as they pelted the monster. Once the first line emptied their cans, another line immediately rushed in to keep up the offensive as Pashmina directed her Ham-Hams to reload using the emergency reserves DJ and his hound dogs brought to the field.

Not far away, Chief Guinea Pig squeaked out commands as his warriors and Big Momma unloaded with the EGGAPULT. While the monster was goopified, Percy and her Hen Pecked Squadron leaped from the bushes in an attempt to slay the beast by death of a thousand pecks.

Sector V looked on with various expressions of amazement. They gasped as Bradley skidded in front of them, bending over to unleash a barrage of stink missiles. His partner and children scurried up to assist, raising their tails to spray out a pungent, odorous cloud to hopefully halt Sub-Snakurath's wrath.

Hoagie was the first to realize what was happening. "They're distracting it…"

"Then what the crud are we waiting for?" Wally said. "Let's get out of here!"

Using the window the animals provided, sector V gathered themselves and booked it further into the helicarrier. They jumped and sprinted across various food debris, kicking up dirt as they bolted towards the manor. It wasn't long before they reached the gazebo, using it as a brief cover to reload before moving on.

Just as Kuki reloaded her THUMPER, her heart skipped a beat as a pained squeak tore through the night. She looked over the fencing, tears immediately filling her eyes as the scene in front of her unfurled.

It didn't take long for Sub-Snakurath to recover from the animals' ambush. A spiked, tail appendage sprouted from its backside which it quickly used to tear through DJ and his dogs. From its left flank, wiggling candy corn needles shot towards the EGGAPULT, Chief Guinea Pig and his forces barely reacting in time. The egg launcher and the platform were reduced to splinters, and without support, Big Momma panicked and flapped her wings in a futile attempt to escape Sub-Snakcurath's bubble-gum ooze. It coiled around her like a living serpent as it dragged her towards the creature to be consumed alive.

Percy and her flock broke ranks to assist their sister, only to slowly become entangled as well. Pashmina and her hamster rushed to chew through the gum to free their allies, only to cry in pain as the material burned their mouths and slowly sucked them in as they pathetically struggled.

Bradley and his family kept up the pressure, but the monster effortlessly moved through the stink cloud as pulsing, noodle tentacles encircled the necks of the skunk kits. The poor things wailed, utterly terrified as the monster lifted them to be devoured. Their mother went into a rage, leaping to take back her children, only to be captured as well. Bradley rushed to action, raising his plow fist to free his family, only to be swatted away like a mere fly.

As more and more animals succumbed, Kuki's hands snapped to her mouth to muffle her cries. Tears cascaded down her cheeks, her heart breaking more and more with every terrified yelp, squeak, and squawk.

The rest of sector V began to tune in to what was happening and weren't taking it lightly either. Hoagie's face paled. "They're…they're not gonna…"

"We have to help them!" Kuki mumbled, frantic as she began scrambling back. "We have to go back!"

"Are you nuts!?" Wally snapped, holding the girl back despite her scratching and squirming. "We can't just—"

"We can!" Kuki screamed, her voice hoarse and giving Wally pause. She glared up at him through angry tears. "T-They came to help us. We can't just abandon them! WE CAN'T!"

Wally grimaced. "Kuki…"

"Please," Kuki begged. She looked to Nigel, expression desperate and pleading. "Please!"

Nigel's face was stoic as he stared down Kuki from behind his shades. He felt his fist tightening at his sides, brows furrow as his mind went over a gazillion-and-one scenarios.

None of them were ideal.

This Sub-Snackurath creature was a menace, and the animals had just bought them valuable time. Every second they wasted here was one more second Father had to recoup. It was more second Rachel had to allude them and be lost forever.

At Nigel's silence, Kuki wailed and buried her face in Wally's chest. The boy held her tight with one arm while the other pounded against the gazebo in frustration. Hoagie began pacing back and forth, fidgeting with his hands as he seemed torn in two directions.

Abby, for her part, stared ahead with an expression mirroring Nigel's. She breathed in through her nose, making direct eye contact with her bald comrade. They locked gazes, and there was no judgment whatsoever in her voice as she said, "Your call, boss."

Nigel flicked his gaze back to the field, Sub-Snackurath reflecting in his sunglasses in all its gruesome glory. He then affixed his gaze to the Delightful Manor in the distance. Sector V waited as the gears turned in their commander's mind. They all knew that look; it was the look where Nigel took four-point-two seconds to go over all the variables, all of the odds, and all the risks before settling on a course of action.

At four-point-three decisions, Nigel closed his eyes and made a decision.

As the chaos of battle raged around him, Joaquin felt as though he was moving through a nightmare. The ground shook beneath his tiny paws, the air thick with the stench of burning sugar and the cries of his fallen comrades. His old heart hammered in his chest, each beat a painful reminder of the horrors unfolding before him.

He had seen many battles in his long life, but none like this. The monstrous form of Sub-Snackurath loomed overhead, its grotesque visage casting a shadow of despair over the battlefield. Joaquin's fur bristled with fear as he watched his fellow animals about to be consumed by the eldritch abomination, their screams echoing in his ears like a macabre symphony of suffering.

Guilt gnawed at Joaquin's soul, a heavy weight that threatened to crush him beneath its unbearable burden. He had led his friends into this battle, and now he was watching them fall one by one, powerless to stop it. Each loss cut him deeper than the last, a dagger of grief that pierced his heart with every life about to be extinguished before his eyes.

But amidst the chaos and despair, Joaquin found a grim sense of acceptance. He knew that their chances of survival were slim, that they were hopelessly outmatched by the unstoppable force of Sub-Snackurath. And as the creature descended upon him with ravenous hunger in its eyes, Joaquin grimly accepted his fate.

The Sinister Feline's words echoed in his mind, a bitter reminder of the harsh truth he had tried to ignore for so long.

"They'll abandon you, just like they abandoned us."

It was a cruel reality that Joaquin had denied time and time again, and now in the end, those finicky felines would have the last laughs.

With a heavy heart and tears streaming down his fur, Joaquin closed his eyes and braced himself for the inevitable. He had fought bravely alongside his friends, but in the end, they were all just toys in a game they could never hope to win.

And as Sub-Snackurath's monstrous form went to envelop him in darkness, Joaquin squeaked a silent prayer for the souls of those he had let down, knowing that their sacrifice would not be forgotten.

And he sent one last apology to his fallen comrades from Grove, who risked their lives just so he could die like a spineless wuss.

"Down here, you ugly sack of leftovers!"

Joaquin's eyes snapped open.

A combined volley of 2x4 armaments smacked into Sub-Snackurath's hide, giving it pause. It blinked, annoyed as it regarded sector V at its feet

Nigel lowered his blaster, his team standing on both sides at the ready. "Hands off our pets."

Angered by their rebellious spirit, Sub-Snackurath released the animals and it trudged towards sector V, channeling all of its fury their way.

"Well, we got its attention," Abby sighed, a bit apprehensive as he spared a glance at Nigel. "So what's the plan?"

"Honestly, I'm just winging it at this point," Nigel grumbled. He turned to his portly friend. "Numbuh 2?"

"Already on it." Hoagie slapped his wristwatch, grinning as something soared over ahead. The COOLBUS dodged Sub-Snackurath tentacle strikes and careened low to plop down a care package before flying back to the outer perimeter. A metal tube slammed into the ground, hissing open to reveal another EAT canon. "Got one more of these bad boys left, and trust me when I say this one's a mouthful!"

Sector V quickly went into formation to man the massive weapon. Wally deftly constructed the launcher, Kuki and Abby moved in sync to load the mega-MARBLE payload, and Nigel began targeting Sub-Snakurath's head whilst Hoagie used to arms of his SPORK pack to handle the recoil.

"That's right, tons of fun, just a little closer…" Hoagie mumbled, the tech in his goggles locking on to the monster's mouth as he lumbered closer. As Sub-Snackurath opened his maw to swallow them, Hoagie slapped the barrel of the EAT cannon. "NOW!"

The cannon fired with a pop, knocking the kids to their butts. The payload zipped through the air, slamming against Sub-Snackurath's jaw with a direct hit. The volley exploded, a massive cloud of mustard C4 coating the upper half of the beast's body. They all waited with baited breath as the smoke cleared, and let loose a resounding whoop of victory as the head of the monster was blown clean off.

Abby and Wally high-fived while Nigel laughed and patted Hoagie's back. "Excellent firepower, Numbuh 2!"

"D'aw, it was nothing," Hoagie said, flustered as he wiped his nose. "Was hoping to save that surprise for Father, but hey, easy-come easy-go."

"Hooray!" Kuki cheered, jumping up in down as her friends sagged with relief. "We won! We won, we won, we—" She paused mid-cheer, face frozen in a smile as the head of the horror slowly regenerated. Its creamy, gooey hide bubbled and sloshed as a new head erupted from the moldy, ice cream puss. Kuki clenched her teeth together and hissed, "—are screwed. We are so screwed."

Sub-Snakcurath shook, chuckling as hundreds of tentacles sprouted from its back.

Wally slumped. "Well, at least we tried—AAHHH!"

As Sub-Snackurath's tentacles surged forward, Wally was the first to be ensnared. The thick, sticky tendrils wrapped around his limbs, pulling him closer to the monstrous entity. He struggled and thrashed, but it was futile. The gelatinous mass of Sub-Snackurath's body engulfed him, swallowing him whole with a sickening slurp.

Abby fought valiantly, firing her BIRDIE, but she was no match for the eldritch horror before her. With a swift motion, Sub-Snackurath's tentacles coiled around her, dragging her into its amorphous form. She screamed as she was consumed, her cries muffled by the jello-fied mass that enveloped her.

Hoagie tried to fend off the monstrous creature with his SPORK pack, but the relentless onslaught of tentacles overwhelmed him. He was pulled into the swirling mass of Sub-Snackurath's body, disappearing beneath the surface with a helpless cry.

Nigel stood his ground, determination etched on his face as he faced the abomination before him. But Sub-Snackurath had other plans for him. With a flick of its noodle arms, it wrapped him tightly in its tentacles, immobilizing him and preparing to deliver him to Father.

As Kuki dashed through the chaos, her heart pounded in her chest like a drumbeat of impending doom. She could feel the slimy tendrils of Sub-Snackurath reaching out for her, threatening to snatch her away at any moment. Desperation fueled her movements as she scooped up Joaquin in her arms.

Joaquin remained rooted to the spot, his frail body trembling with fear as he clung to Kuki.

The carnivorous abomination thrashed about, kicking up debris and Father's extravagant lawn ornaments. Its boiling jello flesh ignited any material it touched, and Joaquin's throat seized as flaming choco-log landed before them. Those taunting flames tugged him back to that horrible day.

Memories flooded back unbidden—flashes of fire, the acrid smell of smoke, and the cries of his litter mates filled his mind. He was no longer in the leftover coated battlefield, but back at the Medical Boo Boo Grove, the treehouse hospital engulfed in flames.

Joaquin had been there, desperately trying to help the hospitalized children escape as Father's minions set the place ablaze. He remembered the panic, the chaos, and then the paralysis that gripped him when the heat and noise became too much.

His five litter mates—the five real heroes of that day—had pushed him out of the way, forming a line of defense. He watched in helpless horror as they faced the flames, buying him time to escape while they perished in the inferno.

He was the only one who made it out.

Like a coward.

The image of his friends sacrificing themselves replayed over and over in his mind.

A tentacle lashed out, narrowly missing Kuki, who stumbled and fell. Her scream snapped Joaquin back to the present. As Sub-Snackurath's tentacles encircled them, Kuki's heart shattered into a million pieces. With a final, desperate cry, she tossed Joaquin away, forcing him to flee as she was dragged back into the monstrous mass.

"Go, Joaquin! Run!" Kuki screamed, her voice echoing through the night as she was swallowed up by the gelatinous horror. As she disappeared, Joaquin could only watch in horror as his Mama was consumed by the darkness, her sacrifice etched into his memory like a scar that would never fade.

Sub-Snackurath loomed over the battlefield, its grotesque form pulsating with an otherworldly glow. Its tentacles writhed and twisted, each one tipped with a sharp, candy cane-like appendage that dripped with a viscous sauce. Its body seemed to shift and morph with every movement, a nightmarish amalgamation of food-based horrors.

The air was thick with the sickly-sweet scent of sugary confections, mingled with the metallic tang of blood and the acrid stench of sizzling skin. The ground trembled beneath its massive bulk as if the very earth itself recoiled from its presence.

Bones aching with every twist, Joaquin's nails dug into his cane, struggling to lift himself. His eyes, wide and glossy, stared up at the massive monster transfixed. He tried to focus on his breathing, in and out, a steady rhythm that usually calmed him. But the calm did not come.

That crippling, spidery feeling skittered through his chest. Past and present collided, the mental whiplash sending his little mind reeling. It was impossible to think. It was a herculean effort to even breathe.

The screams of sector V as they were being devoured forced him to the ground, his little paws clenching his head to drive away the nightmare. As he saw sector V risking their lives, the same fear and guilt surged within him, paralyzing him once more.

"No," he whispered, barely audible. "Not again…"

A small body grunted as it hit the ground, making a small crater. Joaquin managed to look up to see Pashmina recoiling in on herself. The sight of his dear grand-pup—the sole survivor of his daughter's litter—awoke just enough adrenaline to hobble up.

With shaking tenderness, Joaquin coddled her head, the young hamster groaning as she slowly regained consciousness. He looked away, seeing the small armada he had gathered. Everything had gone to hell. DJ and his hound dogs panted, exertion weighing them down as they vomited up bits of chocolate the monster had forced down their gullets. Percy and her hens limped almost pathetically, their feathers matted and charred as they rallied to pull a battered Big Momma from a trench. Royal gerbil guards carried out Chief Guinea Pig, the war chieftain fading in and out of awareness.

Not far away, Bradley's skunk wife had her head tucked under his cyborg arm, holding him up as his children whimpered, snots twitching in concern as their papa's robotic eye cracked and sparked.

Ever the soldier, Bradley growled through the pain, his good eye locking with Joaquin. He fought through strangled tufts of breath to manage out, "What's…the play…old man?"

Paws nervously combed through Pashmina's fur as Joaquin took in the army's state. He compared their bruised and half-dead stances with that of Sub-Snackurath's towering height. If they stayed, then that would be the end. Of all of them. And all because of him.

He couldn't stomach that. Not ever again.

"We…we have to retreat," he ordered each word a pike through his elderly heart. "W-We're outmatched. We need to get out of here—"

"No."

With a jostle and rebellious squirm, Pashmina freed herself from Joaquin's hold. One eye was defiantly open as she got to her feet. "I can still fight."

"Pashmina, no!" Joaquin grabbed her wrist. "It's too dangerous!"

"Sector V is in trouble—kids are in trouble!" she shouted, the fire in her eyes burning with every word. "We have to save them. That's our job."

Breaths came up shallow as Joaquin resorted to begging. "Please, listen to me—"

"You listen to me!" she screamed. "I can't believe you, Grandpa! There are kids in trouble and you want to abandon them!? You should be ashamed of yourself; what kind of hamster are you!?"

"I'M SCARED!" he roared, his voice booming and cutting through the tension. Pashmina took a startled step back, and the rest of the forces looked on apprehensively as their leader shrunk in on himself. "I-I couldn't save my litter mates at the grove. I-I couldn't save your mama." His paws frantically overgroomed his thin fur, tears streaming down his face as he trembled. "I'm old. I'm useless. I'm a big stinky coward. I can't lose you because of that. I can't…"

Joaquin's heart pounded in his tiny chest. He remembered his litter mates charging forward, dodging and weaving between the flames as he stood back in hiding. He choked on smoke and singed his paws while his friends gave everything they had.

They sacrificed everything for an undeserving coward like him.

Two smaller paws gently held his.

"I'm scared too, Grandpa," Pashmina said softly, eyes wet with unshed tears. She frowned, refusing to let them fall as the timber of her voice gained volume. "But you…you taught me how to be brave. When Mama died and I was assigned to my first kid, you were there to tell me how strong I was. You're Joaquin, the bravest and coolest hamster of all time! That hamster believed in me so…so I still believe in him! I need him. Those kids need him!"

Joaquin looked down, ashamed. "I'm…not that hamster anymore. We're out of our depth. We're…we're just pets."

Pashmina's face steeled, slowly retracting her hand. "We cuddle up to them when they're sad."

Blinking through tears, Joaquin looked up to his granddaughter.

"We chase away the boogeymen adults can't see."

Pashmina turned from her grandfather, other hamsters watching as she knelt to pick up her singed pink scarf.

"When fear takes hold, I won't flee. I will fight."

With determined hands, Pashmina fashioned her scarf around her neck. She gazed ahead, grunting as she climbed the remains of a bent lawn chair. Her eyes roamed over the army, hamsters, chickens, guinea pigs, and dogs waiting on baited breath; hanging on her every word.

"If I die today, then I will die like any proud hamster should: cheeks stuffed, belly full, and knowing I gave it my all to protect my kids." She looked down, eyes bright as she stared directly into Joaquin's. "I am more than a treehouse battery."

Joaquin gasped, the image of Mama Three smiling down as she held him in her arms.

"I am more than a pet."

"Hamsters work so hard!"

Those words cut through the fog of fear, giving the elderly hamster pause as he gazed at his wrinkled paws.

"I am Pashmina. I am a hamster of the Pets. Next. Door!" With a yell, she stomped down her foot, flicking up a rusty knife. She wielded the instrument towards Sub-Snackurath, eyes narrowed and scarf fluttering in the wind as her fellow hamsters flocked to her side. "Alright, Ham-Hams; LET'S KICK HIS BUTT!"

Every hamster roared, stampeding toward the monster with renewed vigor. From the rear, a squad of furry critters saddled onto cans of root beer ready to burst. They kicked off the nozzle, shooting forth on fizz-powered rockets and they twirled and chucked rubber-band bandoliers strapped with MARBLES into Sub-Snakurath's maw.

"Such passion, such beauty…I would expect no less of my wonderful Pashmina," Chief Guinea Pig swooned, hearts in his eyes. Hopping to his feet, he held up his staff and addressed his tribe. "Guinea Pigs! Let us not be upstaged in this final hour. It is time to remind these fuzzballs why we were the original KND power source!"

His tribesmen and women hollered, raising tiny plastic pitchforks and matchstick torches. With a grin, Chief Guinea Pig led the charge. "TO WAR!"

After readjusting her bonnet, Percy craned her head back to her hens. "Well, ladies, are we going to fall behind?"

Big Momma and the surrounding chickens let loose a unified, defiant caw.

"Then let's go!" In a flourish, Percy and her Hen Pecked Squadron fluttered in formation, transforming into a giant, feathery giant mech. The remainder of the chickens morphed into an egg-blaster, with Big Momma clawing into the mech back and fueling the ammunition. From the head of the giant, Percy swept her left wing forth. "FOR MOMMY!"

Mouth agape, Joaquin watched as the animals threw themselves back into the fray. A massive shadow loomed over him, and he looked up to see DJ, the dog standing stoic as he surveyed the battlefield.

The old sheepdog faced his snout forward, eyes hidden behind his shaggy brow. He looked down at Joaquin, silent before letting his tongue loll from the side of his mouth. He sucked in a breath and bellowed out an ear-splitting howl. His canine comrades snapped to attention, baring their fangs and sprinting towards the monster, DJ immediately falling in tow.

Bradley's five skunk children shared a look before shaking off bits of gum and confectioner's sugar. Their tails puffed out, and before anyone could stop them, they bum-rushed past their parents. Bradley's wife looked up to her mate, nuzzling his face one last time before chasing after her kits.

Joaquin watched as the tide of the Pets Next Door slammed against Sub-Snackurath. The beast reacted violently, thrashing its tentacles and vomiting streams of molten nacho cheese. But the animals, fueled by their drive and duty, did not relent in the slightest as they slashed, clawed, and bit away at anything they could to free the captive sector V.

Bradley slammed his fist against his crane arm, flexing its mechanical joints to and fro as he stepped up beside Joaquin. "Orders, sir?"

For a moment, Joaquin said nothing. Despite it all, something gnawed the edge of his furry soul. Faint, teasing whispers questioned the audacity of his granddaughter. Knowing full well that she could perish, she jumped into danger's eager jaws.

And for what, a cynical voice asked. A group of children that didn't even know she existed? Owners who, he wondered, would even care to remember the valiant sacrifice he laid down for them.

They—he was just a hamster. Was any of this truly worth it?

"Look at the foolishness you've inspired."

As if his dark inner critic was given physical form, Joaquin snapped his head to the Sinister Felines. After being dealt a humbling defeat, and still entrapped in a massive yarn ball—which honestly, was kind of funny—they decided to finally make their presence known again.

"All these idiots throwing their lives away. And for what?" they hissed, sneering up at Joaquin and Bradley, contempt oozing from their irises. "A bunch of ungrateful brats who'd sooner toss you out on the street."

Joaquin lowered his eyes, giving Bradley ample time to put his two cents in.

"That's not true!" the skunk said. He shook his fist at the cats, his frame trembling with anger. "They came back. For us! You saw it with your own eyes."

"Nonsense!" they cried. Their fur bristled with fury and voices carried hints of desperate denial. "It…it was a fluke. A lapse of judgment! Or-or something was in it for them! They're filthy humans! They don't care for us pets!"

Bradley frowned. "Ours do."

"T-They'll leave you to die!"

"Ours didn't!"

"Shut up!" Their eyes snapped shut, recoiling and thrashing about in a mad fit. They refused to accept the reality staring them in the face. "Y-You're just a slave to human propaganda! You deny the truth!"

"The truth, Sinister Sleazebags, is simple," Bradley said, crossing his arms and expression adopting a smug grin. "Kids don't abandon their pets."

The Felines eyes lit up, rage reaching a boiling point. Their hackles rose, faces puffing as their hair stood on in. Hisses escaped clenched teeth and right when they were coiled and primed to explode in a volley of hateful taunts and jeers they…didn't.

The Sinister Felines visibly deflated. Their ears were tucked back and they looked away, whimpering akin to frightened, newborn kittens. "…ours did."

Joaquin's eyes widened as he saw his arch-enemies in a new light. There was no bluster, no veil of feline superiority to shield them. Their expressions were raw as the elderly hamster saw what lay behind the facade they barricaded themselves behind.

Eyes filling with sympathy, Joaquin sighed. No animal, no matter how big or small, is born cruel and distrustful. They enter the world in a blank, curious state. Sometimes in the wild as nature originally intended. Sometimes, in captivity left to the whims of whatever human had a hand in rearing them. Some were bred for profit, some were born for slaughter. Only a small few were born for love, and fewer still had that love returned in earnest.

Before him, Joaquin saw five pets born to cherish and love their little humans only to be thrown out like yesterday's droppings.

As the Soopreme Squeaker, it was a fate he was not blind to. Joaquin had lived a long time, far longer than any normal hamster should. He knew the hard truths of the world he tried so desperately to shelter Pashmina from. And if Bradley couldn't bring himself to fully admit it, Joaquin could. The harsh truth was that the feline's utter contempt for humans was founded in very real pain.

Kids shouldn't abandon their pets…

"They'll abandon you, just like they abandoned us."

…but some do.

"Aw, don't be that way, Numbuh 4," Hoagie laughed, letting hamsters climb his pudgy frame and take nibbles of his chili dog. "Hamsters are super cool!"

But some kids…

Abby lowered her rifle, bemused at the sight. "You were right, Numbuh 3. These little guys do work hard."

Some kids…

Nigel lowered his blaster, his team standing on both sides at the ready. "Hands off our pets."

Kids like his kids…

"Go, Joaquin! Run!" Kuki screamed, her voice echoing through the night as she was swallowed up by the gelatinous horror.

Bradley shifted his good eye, not entirely sure how to handle the cats folding so quickly. He squeaked, startled as Joaquin strode right past him, cane clicking against the cobblestone. Rarely ever seeing his leader so determined, Bradley lowered his head, carefully watching how chips decided to fall.

The Sinister Felines opened their eyes, softly glaring at the hamster above them. Joaquin's face was neutral and the eternal, nature-bound enemies silently accessed the other. The sound of an explosion sent vibrations through the air. The cats' sensitive ears flicked and turned in the direction of the battle while keeping their steady gaze on Joaquin. "Are they worth it, rat?"

Joaquin looked off in the distance, seeing the Pets Next Door throw everything they had for the souls of five children.

He smiled. "They are."

"…then go," they grumbled. "Save your stupid, oh-so-precious children."

Joaquin frowned down at them. "And what should I do with you?"

"If you were smart, you'd put us out of our misery," they said, completely resigned to their fate after years of digging for scraps in the garbage and narrowly avoiding Father's wrath just for the small slight chance of catching a whiff of their children's scent. They sent a wary look towards the monster. "Better you than that…thing."

"Is that what you want?"

"You just loooove riding that high horse, don't you, little rat?" they said with a devious sneer. "You wish to pity us with mercy? Need we remind you of how many of your numbers we've gorged on over the years?"

At that, Joaquin's grip tightened around his cane.

"Nothing personal, of course, but we just cannot help ourselves. It's in our nature. And my, you little hamsters are so very delicious."

Bradley analyzed Joaquin's shifting stance and trembling frame. That internal computer Papa built into his brain kept droning on about how it was 99.99991% sure the felines were goading Joaquin to end their suffering. When he asked that computer what the chances were Joaquin would give in, the robotic voice nonchalantly chimed, "Meh. It's fifty-fifty."

"Come on," the cats cooed. "We know you want to."

Joaquin raised his cane high in the air and angrily snarled. "What I want, Sinister Felines…"

The cats closed their eyes, ready to embrace a sweet release from this cruel, cruel world—

"…is for you to find kids who love and adore you."

Their eyes snapped open, seeing Joaquin feeding them a cheeky grin as the tip of his cane gently nudged the side of the yarn ball. He flicked his eyes over, and they followed.

It was then they realized they teetering a little too close to the edge of the carrier, despite their earlier suicidal inclinations.

"And when you do? I'll be waiting for you in that big litter box in the sky—"

It was then they also realized just how soft and padded this yarn ball was. Why, if they were betting cats, they would say this yarn could lessen the impact of a fall from at least eleventy billion meters.

"—Just to say, 'I told you so'," Joaquin winked. "See you in about nine lives."

With a little push from his cane, the yarn ball careened over the side, the Sinister Felines screaming as gravity pulled them down to get reacquainted with Mother Earth.

Bradley scrunched his nose. "You sure about this?"

"Yeah. Pashmina uses quality stuff. That yarn will cushion the fall." Joaquin said, nodding satisfied. He paused, lips thinning as he wondered how much physics would account for things. "At least…I sure hope it will…"

"I'm talking about Slob-zilla over there," Bradley corrected, motioning back to the battle. Joaquin hopped on his shoulder, joining to study their odds. Bradley fumed. "Pashmina…she and the kids got moxy, but I don't know if that's enough."

Joaquin tapped his foot against Bradley's shoulders, brows furrowing in thought. "We just have to eat through it somehow before it digests the kids. There's more of us than it."

"But it makes Slamwitch look like a Rainbow Monkey doll in comparison!" Bradley said, twirling his arms while pacing anxiously back and forth. "We don't have the paw-power to chew through fast enough. Arrgh! If only we were bigger!"

A breeze tickled Joaquin's whiskers, causing him to turn and sneeze. As his eyes opened, he raised his brow as the clouds parted. Squinting his eyes, he just barely made out sector V's treehouse far out on the hillside horizon.

"Bigger…" Joaquin mused. As if struck by lightning, he yanked Bradley's face to look him square in the eye. "Quick! What's the range on your stank launcher?"

"Uh, my record is a few hundred football stadiums," Bradley mumbled, flicking his eyes in Sub-Snackurath's direction. "But, like, he's right there so…"

"Forget him for a second!" Joaquin forced Bradley's face towards the treehouse. "You think you can reach the old treehouse?"

"That is a hard maybe, boss," Bradley said, tugging the scruff of his neck. "Not to mention I didn't even bring long-range stink missiles. What the heck would I even try and shoot there?"

Joaquin fell from Bradley's perch, sniffing at the ground until his nose led him to a pile of debris. He dug like a hamster possessed, his nails near bleeding before he produced a hamster ball drop-pod that was still in working order.

He rushed back to Bradley, tugging at his mop-tail. He ignored the skunk's protests as he opened Bradley's butt silo and plopped the hamster ball inside it. He then jumped at the rim of the ball, ignoring his aching joints as he tried to scurry inside. "You're shooting me."

"Have you officially lost it? Why would you want me to launch you towards…" Bradley's words trailed off into a mutter as his computer brain worked overtime. After a second, his eyes widened in horrible realization. "The super hamster ray…"

"Bingo," Joaquin said. With a final grunt, he pulled himself inside. Before he could close the lid, he yelped as Bradley reached around to grab him.

"You have lost it!" Bradley fretted as he shook Joaquin around. His voice was riddled with anger, disbelief…and worry. "You can't use that!"

"Sure I can," Joaquin protested. He tried to push himself free of Bradley's hold. "The old power grid should just have enough juice left for it. I'll be fine."

"Do you think I'm stupid?" Joaquin paused as Bradley's tone shifted. The hamster narrowed his eyes, looking away as Bradley fumed. "You think I don't know about Papa's inventions? You don't think I know why he ended up scrapping it?"

Joaquin's whiskers twitched. "You're overreacting—"

"It's unstable! Papa found out it shreddifies your immune system and destroys your squeakle cells," Bradley warned. "It was a miracle Mama saved you after you fought Slamwitch!"

Unpleasant memories of that day broke out like a bad pimple. Not long after he ate up Slamwitch and sector V returned to class from lunch, Joaquin returned to the treehouse, planning on basking in the praise of his fellow hamsters for being a totally awesome superhero.

Only once he shrunk back down to normal size, that's when the totally not awesome stuff started happening.

He remembered feeling dizzy, his litter mates backing away as he unleashed a torrent of vomit. He blamed it on Slamwitch not settling right. He assured him he'd walk it off and he'd be a-okay. He recalled choking on his blood and passing out.

Days later, he awoke in the infirmary, Mama Three bawling tears of relief while Uncle One and Uncle Two muttered about disabling the hamster ray in the background.

Thank goodness for kids and their short attention span, because the task of tearing the ray down got kicked down the line until it was ultimately forgotten. To Joaquin's knowledge, the thing was sitting pretty in Uncle Two's lab, hopefully with no more than a fine layer of dust coating it as it waited to be used one last time.

Now if only Bradley would get with the program. Joaquin scrunched his nose. "I said I'll be fine."

"No, you won't. You barely survived, old man!" Bradley racked his crane arm against his steely noggin. "I'll use it!"

"Out of the question! We don't know what it could do to skunks, much less half-cyborg ones!" Joaquin snapped. "No. It was made for hamsters, and it's going to get used by a hamster. Besides, it's not like you can shoot yourself."

"There has to be another way!"

"There is no other way."

"This is about the Grove, isn't it?" Bradley snarled. "You…you think you need still need to make up for that day? Forget it! I am not about to let you kill yourself over that!"

"Bradley," Joaquin uttered, voice low but full of conviction as he stared at Sub-Snackurath.

The skunk's logic didn't appear out of the blue. Perhaps that had been Joaquin's goal. Yes, one last chance to make up for that horrible day. In the back of his mind, he was positive he would go out in a furry blaze of glory in some ill-conceived attempt to right history. For years he had been haunted by nightmares; shapeless specters screaming that the wrong hamsters died that day. It should've been him. Ever since he was a pup, he looked up comic book superheroes, idolized them, and wanted to be just like them. And when fate gave him a chance, he wussed out and his brothers and sisters paid the price.

So upon learning Mama Three went off to fight the Fire Man, he gathered his forces, silently begging for fate to give him one last shot at making it all right.

And it had. But now, on the precipice of it all, Joaquin finally realized fate answered his prayer; just not in the way he wanted.

As he looked out the Pashmina leading her Ham-Hams, Percy directing her hens, Chief Guinea Pig shouldering his men, and DJ emboldening his hounds—all these pets fighting for something bigger than any of them could hope to be, Joaquin remembered the true reason his instincts guided him to this moment.

The light was bright—so very painfully bright. But the soft and curious gazes of five pairs of eyes made it all worth it.

Joaquin finally faced Bradley, his mind clear for the first time in years. "My kids need me."

The quake of Sub-Snackurath's fury shook Bradley to his core. And then—probably only due to the marvelous cybernetic wizardry that enhanced his already keen perception—Bradley heard them…

…five voices on the brink of fading forever.

Confliction was written all over his snout. "But Joaquin…you'll die."

"NUMBUH 6!" Joaquin shouted, voice carrying the power of a thousand raging howler monkeys, "I'm ordering you to fire me at that treehouse! RIGHT NOW!"

Bradley hesitated, his eyes wide with fear and uncertainty. Joaquin's unwavering gaze, however, left no room for doubt. The elderly hamster's determination was palpable, radiating a fierce resolve that made the skunk take a deep breath and nod reluctantly.

"Alright, boss," Bradley whispered, voice trembling. "But this better work."

Joaquin smirked. "Have a little faith, stinky."

Bradley adjusted his aim, calculating the precise angle needed to launch Joaquin towards the distant treehouse. The wind picked up, rustling the leaves and carrying the faint sounds of the ongoing battle. Sub-Snackurath's monstrous roars echoed through the air, a reminder of the urgency of their mission.

With one final glance at the brave hamster, Bradley held back tears. "It's been an honor, sir."

The mechanism whirred, and with a powerful burst, Joaquin was propelled through the air, the g-force of the launch pressing him against the walls of the hamster ball. The world blurred around him, the ground rushing past in a dizzying array of colors. Despite the intensity of the moment, Joaquin kept his focus solely on his mission.

The treehouse loomed closer, and Joaquin braced himself for impact. With a resounding crash, the hamster ball struck the side of the structure, bouncing and rolling until it shattered apart inside the treehouse laboratory. The impact jarred him, but he shook off the disorientation, quickly finding his bearings.

"Oh, my aching back," he grumbled, hunching over and rubbing his spine. He picked up the familiar scent of the imposing oak and laughed. "Bradley, you wonderful sharpshooting skunk, right on target!"

Joaquin scrambled around the lab, eyes scanning the familiar surroundings. There, tucked away in a corner, was Hoagie's old super hamster ray, dusty but intact. He hurried over, his small paws deftly activating the controls. The machine hummed to life, its dormant energy crackling through the air.

"Hang on, kids," Joaquin muttered, positioning himself in front of the ray. "Just a little longer."

With a deep breath, he braced himself. Fear and apprehension snaked its way into his heart, but it was too late now. One more second and it would all be—

The lights of the machine flickered out, everything dying with a hum. Joaquin tripped over his disbelief. He scurried to the computer, jaw-dropping as he read the output.

"Back-up reserves depleted!?" The screen then darkened completely, as if using the last of its power to spurn him one last time. "B-But how!? No one has been in this treehouse since…"

A new scent tickled his nose. Well, not a new-new scent per se, but one that shouldn't be this fresh. It was the smell of Uncle Two as if he had just been here. And was that…chili dogs?

Suddenly Joaquin recalled the new shiny toys Uncle Two and the kids were slugging around during the battle. Now, he was no genius, but it didn't necessarily take a genius to put two and two—ha, pun unintentional—together and realize how Uncle Two got that stuff ready on such short notice.

But if Hoagie had been here and used the reserve power to craft his new gadgets, then that meant—

"No," Joaquin let out a pathetic squeak as his face paled in horror. "No, no, no…"

There was no power left! None! Zilch! Nada! And with no power, there was no way the super hamster ray could function. And if the super hamster ray couldn't function, then that meant sector V was mere minutes away from…

"No!" Joaquin jumped from the terminal, panting as he ran to another corner of the room. He leaped at the faded Yipper poster, using his claws to tear through and reveal the secret hamster tube behind it. With no heed to the tube's obvious disrepair, Joaquin launched himself butt-first down the slide.

Moments later, the hamster plopped out the other end, rubbing his reddened behind but sighing in relief. Thank fluff and stuff that the old tubes still led to the hamster central power core. With no time left to waste, Joaquin hobbled toward the closest hamster wheel and hefted himself into it.

He ran like the Sinister Felines were on his heels, old bones and joints cracking and popping in all manner of uncomfortable ways. But fought past the sweat, and barreled through the pain. He needed to get just enough juice to the power core.

He could do this, he could—oooh, hello, arthritis, could he take a rain check?

Joaquin shook it off. This would be cake! He used to run a gazillion-and-one miles back when he was—ow.

Owowowooooowwww, there goes his good ankle.

Biting in his cheek, he pressed on. Everyone was counting on him. Everyone was depending on him too—

SNAP.

Ah. And there went his back.

Yep, that would do it.

Joaquin seized up, face frozen in sheer pain as the momentum of the wheel spun him and gave him four rotations before chucking him to the cold hard floor. Groaning, Joaquin slowly raised his eye to the read-out. By his calculations, he needed just a weeee 10% of the treehouse's standard energy output to get the ray going.

And what do you know? With all that huffing and puffing, he had generated a grand whopping total of…0.000006%.

…Ah.

…well…

"Who am I kidding?" he grumbled into the wooden floor, despair going hand and hand with his throbbing back. "I can't do it…"

Outside the treehouse, the clouds darkened as the storm neared for another round.

"I'm just an old, washed-up has-critter…"

Thunder rumbled as lightning streaked across the sky, illuminating an old marker site in the Uno's backyard.

"It's hopeless…"

There, buried halfway in the ground, was a rusted, upturned, Dolt root-beer brand vending machine. Weeds had grown around the discarded machine, the change funnel clogged with dirt, and buttons hanging by loose screws. Atop was a crayon scribble to designate a grave, but elements had eroded whatever name had been placed there.

"I'm just a lousy, stupid hamster," Joaquin cried, lips wobbling as he beat into the floor. "I-I don't matter. I'm…I'm just a—"

"We cuddle up to them when they're sad."

Nights with Kuki and Hoagie invaded his mind. He remembered snuggling and licking Mama's face after her mother had dismissed her in a fit of frustration and poor Mama didn't have it in her to mask anymore. He recalled climbing into Uncle Two's pilot cap to tickle his hair, an attempt to steer his thoughts away from his grandmother's abuse and encourage the boy to continue scribbling his inventive designs.

Joaquin blinked as he remembered those nights and those words. The words Pashmina's words.

But had they always been her words?

"We chase away the boogeymen adults can't see."

There were times Joaquin stayed nestled atop Nigel's bald head, letting the warmth of his fur calm the boy's anxiety, silently promising to stay vigilant and alert him to any dangers before his paranoia could run wilder than his imagination. He fondly recalled the times he would do countless circles around Abby's room, giving her the 'all-clear!' on restless nights when the world became too much, and she worried over her traitorous sister ambushing her and her team in the dead of night.

Slowly, Joaquin got to his feet, ignoring the blistering pain in his limbs as the memories and words rang in his mind. Those words…had they not been his not that long before the battle started?

"When fear takes hold, I won't flee…"

As he got to his feet, pushing past the sickening crunches his no doubt broken bones made as went back to the wheel, that voice that at first, started as Pashmina, slowly morphed into his own. As the words echoed, through grit teeth he finished, "…I will fight."

As the storm picked up intensity, rain threatening to spill at any moment, the old, vending machine grave marker began to rumble.

"If I die, it will be like any hamster should," he grunted, sweating drenching his brow as he re-positioned himself in the wheel. "Knowing I…gave it my all!"

Joaquin ran.

Despite his age, he ran.

Even as his ankles burned, he ran.

All the nagging voices, disgusted jeers, and insults in the whole wide world could not stop Joaquin as he ran, and ran, and ran.

"Come on," he chanted to himself. "Come on! Come…on?"

He slowed to a jog, then a complete stop as he looked up. Bradley was right, Joaquin had totally and officially lost it. It was the only possible way to describe what he was seeing. All around him, squeaking a squealing, every last hamster wheel of the power core spun on its own.

Yeah, he had either lost it, or this was some root-beer-induced fever dream. His vet was nagging him to quit that stuff.

But the ache of his back—oh sweet lord above, his poor little back—felt way too real to be a dream. So, he was putting more stock in the whole 'losing it' theory.

Seconds ticked on, and Joaquin's eyes bulged from his skull as shapes took form in the wheels. Slowly and surely, the outline of ghostly hamster phantoms manifested, lips pursed and brows set. One by one, a new ghost appeared, running a marathon as if their otherworldly lives depended on it.

Joaquin hopped from his wheel, the entire treehouse illuminating. He looked at the readout, having long gone past the 10% he needed and teetering very close to the 'DANGER! DANGER! POWER OVERLOAD! WAY TOO MUCH POWER!' territory.

A series of cheerful squeaks caused him to turn, and he gasped. "G-Guys?"

There, in the five wheels above his own, were his litter mates. One wearing sunglasses, another wearing a pilot cap, the third was sporting a sweater three sizes too big, the fourth with his top layer of fur styled into a bowl cut, and the fifth one with her little red baseball cap on backward. The five hamsters gazed down at Joaquin and smiled as they waved.

"Ahem."

Joaquin squeaked, turning to greet yet another familiar face he never expected to see again. "Chubbo?"

The translucent form of Chubbo stared back at him, wispy whiskers twitching in the night. The long-deceased hamster of sector V looked around, hands on his hip as the spirits of numerous fallen hamsters had returned to fulfill one last haunt. Chubbo settled his beady eyes on Joaquin, then gave a wink before snapping his fingers.

A swirl of cedar chips enveloped Joaquin, spinning him for a loop. As the veil faded and he regained his bearings, he gulped; shocked to find himself at the edge of the platform of the super hamster ray. His ears perked at a spooky whistle, and he looked up to see Chubbo standing atop the lever of the ray.

The ghost said nothing, entirely silently as he bored down at Joaquin, awaiting the elder's decision.

He stood there, memories of his past flashing before his eyes. The fire at the Medical Boo Boo Grove, the faces of his litter mates, and the children of Sector V all merged in a poignant montage.

He remembered their smiles, their laughter, and the countless times they had shown him unconditional love.

He remembered every single moment of this scary, crazy, off-the-wall bonkers yet so wonderful life he got to live.

Joaquin found himself at the center of the platform.

Chubbo pushed down the lever.

"I am more than a pet," Joaquin whispered as he closed his eyes. "…I am—"

An ungodly scream tore from his tiny throat as the ray enveloped him.

No more compromise.

This is do or die.

And now, you've crossed the line.

"PETS NEXT DOOR!" Pashmina screamed. With agility and grace akin more to that of a cheetah than a hamster, she glided across the field, dodging plasma-pasta sauce beams left and right. Sub-Snackurath slammed as tentacle down, sending her flying, but she recovered, hooking her scarf around the waffle cone spires protruding from its skin. She swung herself around, using the velocity to pelt the monster's torso with a well-placed MARBLE. "KEEP UP THE PRESSURE!"

A screech bubbled from the pits of Sub-Snackurath's endless stomach as it charged a beam of molten hot cheese. Percy and her hen mech gallantly skidded in its line of fire, Big Momma producing a behemoth of an egg to plug its mouth. With a victorious screech, the chickens reshaped into two giant, spiked fists that crashed against the monster's temple, stunning it as the egg exploded in a sticky volley of yolk and whites.

Chief Guinea Pigs commanded his troops effortlessly. The animals made quick work of the scrap from the KOLOSAILNER, re-purposing it into deadly weapons and projectiles to fling at the base of the creature to halt its retreat.

Astride DJ, Bradley held onto his hand-me-down fedora as the dog ran up the hull of the KOLOSAILNER, the metal survey as an incline that lined up just oh-so-perfectly with whatever the food demon decided to call its face. With a growl, DJ skidded to the edge of the ramp, using his body to bump Bradley into the air.

…you'll wake the beast inside…

Bradley's mechanical eye narrowed as he zeroed in on his target. As he rocketed through the sky, he cocked back his robotic arm, feeling the familiar hum of power building within. With a sharp command of his internal systems, his construction plow arm began to morph and grow, gears whirring and metal shifting.

The transformation was swift and seamless. The plow arm retracted, reshaping itself into a massive, formidable rocket paw. Panels slid into place, forming a sleek, aerodynamic structure that gleamed in the light. The fist expanded, its surface bristling with technological enhancements designed for maximum impact.

"Alright you stinkin' pile of baby mush," Bradley intoned, his voice a blend of organic grit and robotic precision. "TAKE THIS!

Pets Next Door: P.A.W

Powerful. Animalistic. Whacker.

The PAW's jets carried him like a surging comet. With this, Bradley would end it here and now. Joaquin wouldn't need to resort to the hamster ray. Sector V would be freed to continue their mission. Bradley let out a primal screech; none of his friends would die today.

As he neared Sub-Snackurath, Bradley's sensors finally found the monster's core, the throbbing twisted mass that served as its heart. He adjusted his trajectory, aiming for the critical spot. The monster noticed his approach, letting out a guttural roar as it flailed its tentacles to swat him from the sky. Bradley, so caught up in his tunnel-vision pursuit, failed to course correct, and ended up being slammed face-first into the ground.

No more compromise!

This is do or die!

I'll warn you one last time!

Sub-Snackurath's otherworldly mind churned with rage and disdain. These insignificant creatures dared to defy its grand feast, their persistence gnawing at its ancient patience. To an elder food demon from dimensions beyond mortal comprehension, their bravery was nothing more than a futile display, akin to ants challenging a sun-powered magnifying glass.

It recoiled momentarily from the onslaught, but as Bradley's attack faltered, it seized the moment. The demon's awareness expanded, absorbing the desperation and resolve of its opponents, their defiance a bitter seasoning to the chaos it craved.

"Puny morsels."

All animals froze as a rumbling itched the back of their minds, its voice resonating through them, a sound like a thousand assortments of grimy cutlery grinding in unison.

"Your resistance is but a fleeting flavor in the grand banquet of my existence."

Its tendrils writhed and twisted, reshaping themselves into a grotesque wall of edible horrors. One appendage became a twisted amalgamation of congealed spaghetti and molten cheese, another morphed into a slab of rancid meatloaf dripping with toxic gravy. It advanced, determined to crush these pests beneath the weight of its insatiable hunger.

Sub-Snackurath's mind showered them with memories of ancient feasts, civilizations devoured, and planets left barren in its wake.

"I am The One Whom Eaaaaaaaats."

It reveled in the recollections, its appetite endless, its hunger eternal.

These creatures, with their makeshift weapons and valiant efforts, were merely the latest in a long line of doomed appetizers.

"Witness the futility of your struggle!" it roared, preparing to slam down the gathered animals, ending the farce once and for all.

…you'll wake the beast inside.

The final surge of The One Whom Eats was interrupted by the wail of a thousand, undead and furious hamsters.

You'll wake the beast inside!

Sub-Snackurath's grotesque tentacle paused mid-swing, hesitating at the eerie, otherworldly chorus of squeaks and squeals that permeated the air. The demon's myriad eyes darted around, seeking the source of this new disturbance. The battlefield fell deathly silent as the ground beneath them trembled, cracks forming and widening.

A ghostly veil materialized, shimmering with spectral light, and from it emerged a colossal figure.

You'll wake

The

BEAST

IN-SIDE!

Joaquin, now transformed into a titan of muscle and fury, stepped forth. His eyes were pupil-less voids, his body rippling with supernatural power, every inch of him exuding raw, unbridled rage.

Sub-Snackurath's uncountable eyes blinked. "…Is that a giant hamster?"

With a mighty roar that overwhelmed the thunder of the storm, Joaquin charged.

His movements were fluid yet devastating, each step shaking the earth. The ghost hamsters, unseen but felt, guided his steps, ensuring he remained steady and focused. Joaquin's massive hands grabbed Sub-Snackurath's flailing appendages, wrenching them apart with ease.

The terror recoiled, its form shuddering as it attempted to pull away, but Joaquin was relentless. Without a word, he executed a perfect suplex, lifting the monstrous entity high into the air before slamming it down with bone-shattering force. The impact sent shockwaves through the ground, causing the demon to convulse and wail in agony.

Not wasting a moment, Joaquin's grip tightened around Sub-Snackurath's core. With a guttural growl, he applied pressure, forcing the monster to convulse violently. The beating heart within it pulsated erratically as the pressure built, and finally, in a gruesome display, Sub-Snackurath began to vomit.

A sludge of semi-digested food spewed forth, accompanied by the battered and slimy forms of sector V. Nigel, Hoagie, Kuki, Wally, and Abby tumbled out, coughing and gasping for air, but alive.

"Yeah, 'member what I said about Stuffum's cooking earlier?" Hoagie panted, chest heaving as he slowly sat up. His arms dramatically cut through the air. "Scratch all that. I'm never touching this slop ever again after tonight."

"Ugh," Kuki groaned as Abby helped her to her feet. Everything was so spinny and woozy. She teetered drunkenly. "What happened?"

Nigel rubbed at his temple as his free hand sloshed around for his shades. He flicked the goop off, gingerly re-donning it just in time for Sub-Snackurath's wet, blubbering roar to send them on high alert. They jumped to their feet, ready to dash as the monster bent down to snap them up again.

Instead, a massive wall of fur and muscle stepped between them as Joaquin used his hand to grapple the beast in place.

"…wait, is that?" Wally blinked, raising a hand as a visor. As Joaquin snarled, the boy whooped and pumped his fist. "It is! Way to go, Joaquin! Give the tosser a left hook for me!"

"That's Joaquin!?" Hoagie gasped. He looked to Kuki for confirmation as his face went sheet white. "You… you don't mean our Joaquin, right?"

Kuki nodded, about to break into a cheerful gush about how she had lovingly and painstakingly cared for the hamster well into his super senior years. But Hoagie lifting his goggles to stare worriedly at the hamster, however, gave her pause.

Nigel and Abby shared a look, the former asking, "Numbuh 2?"

"He used the super hamster ray," Hoagie said, voice shaking as Nigel, Kuki, and Abby's eyes widened in horror. Hoagie couldn't pull his eyes away, heart pounding as he tried to deny the facts in front of him. "There's…there's no other way he could've transformed…"

"Uh, duh?" Wally pointed out, ignoring how Joaquin took a massive bite out of the monster to stare curiously at his best mate. "'Course he used the ray to gi-huge-ify himself. Jus' like he did in that food fight forever and a half ago. What's the big deal?"

"The big deal," Hoagie coldly repeated, "is that Joaquin almost died when he turned back to normal. It's why we never used the ray ever again. A young hamster's body can't handle the stress." Hoagie's lips began to quiver. "And…if he's gotten this old…"

The implications hung heavily in the air, an unspoken weight pressing down on them. Kuki clutched her hands to her chest, tears welling up in her eyes as the realization sunk in. Abby's face hardened, her fists clenching as she struggled to maintain her composure. Nigel's jaw tightened, a deep, silent fury simmering beneath his stoic exterior.

"There's gotta be another way!" Wally shouted, his voice cracking with desperation. "We can't just let him die! Hoagie, tell me there's something we can do!"

Hoagie shook his head, unable to meet Wally's pleading eyes. "There isn't. This transformation… it's too much…"

Wally's face twisted in anger and sorrow, tears beginning to streak down his cheeks. He slammed his foot into the ground. "No! We can't just give up on him! There has to be something! Anything!"

While Wally's anguish echoed through the battlefield, Joaquin, barely holding Sub-Snackurath at bay, shot a determined look down at Nigel and Abby. The silent exchange between the three leaders spoke volumes.

Joaquin's eyes, filled with a mix of determination and acceptance, communicated the gravity of the situation. This was it. The last stand.

Nigel's heart ached as he understood the message. Abby nodded slightly, her eyes reflecting the shared understanding and unspoken bond between leaders.

Joaquin was buying them time.

"Team," Nigel commanded, his voice resolute. "We have to press on. Joaquin's giving us the chance we need. We…can't waste any more time."

"But..." Wally began, his voice choked with emotion. He snarled. "First ya say we gotta come back for him, now ya wanna leave him? You…you…" His face contorted into an ugly sneer. "You hypocrite!"

Abby growled, stepping up in Nigel's defense. The bald boy grasped her shoulder, shaking his head and motioning towards the manor. She sighed, composing herself. She gave Wally one final sad look before she and Nigel began sprinting to the front lawn.

"Cowards!" Wally screamed at their retreating backsides. He turned Hoagie, tugging harshly on his coat. "C'mon, mate. Y-Ya gotta have some cool doohickey that can fix him! Ya just gotta!"

Hoagie ignored Wally, tears streaming down his face as he looked up at Joaquin. Slowly and methodically, he bent over, picked up his discarded JAW-CRUSHER, and meticulously reloaded it. He hefted it across his shoulder, using his other hand to slowly cover his eyes with his goggles. He gave a wobbly salute at the giant hamster before turning to join his two commanders.

Wally was slack-jawed as Hoagie ran off. He spluttered, then brushed the boy off with an angry shrug before he went to hold Kuki.

"I-It's gonna be right as rain, Kooks," he sniffled, forcing a smile as he wiped away Kuki's tears. "Me and you…we'll find a way."

But Kuki wasn't listening to Wally. She was frozen to the spot, mind a thousand miles away as she stared up at Joaquin.

Her precious little Joaquin. Her tiny baby she stole back from the reaper's blade when he was just a newborn. Her bundle of joy helped her wrangle up the other hamsters when they got just a bit too fussy. Her brave little boy cuddled so very close to her side every time they both had to say goodbye to one hamster after another until it was finally just the two of them alone on the Moonbase.

Kuki's lips trembled as she whispered, "Joaquin..."

The titan hamster's expression softened, the rage momentarily giving way to a deep, abiding love.

At that moment, as the storm thundered above, Kuki realized the depth of Joaquin's sacrifice. She knew he was giving everything to protect them, to give them the chance—every kid on Earth the chance, to see tomorrow. Her heart ached with the knowledge that she would never see his cute, stuffed cheeks again, but she also knew she had to honor his sacrifice by being brave.

By being the Supreme Leader he always believed her to be.

Joaquin's eyes conveyed a simple, profound truth: unconditional love.

A pet's love was pure, untainted by judgment or expectation.

It was a love that accepted flaws, embraced imperfections, and saw the best in a person even when they couldn't see it themselves.

Kuki had always understood this. She had returned that love two-fold, caring for Joaquin and her hamsters with a depth of affection that was rare even among children.

She had treated him not as a mere pet, but as a true friend, a confidant, a member of her family. It was this bond that gave her the strength to face the coming battle, knowing that Joaquin's love would always be with her, guiding her, protecting her.

With one last, loving look, Joaquin conveyed his final goodbye.

Kuki nodded, tears streaming down her face but her heart filled with a burning resolve.

"I love you, Joaquin," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the din of the battle.

Wally noticed her whisper, pausing his rant to gaze down at her. "K-Kuki?"

"Wally," she said, looking so beautifully sad as she softly held his face. "We have to go."

His arms went limp as Kuki rushed off. Now alone, thoughts and reckless plans festered hotter than before. He'd…he'd show those quitters!

He'd save Joaquin all by himself!

And then he would apologize for always hating those stupid hamsters!

Which, if he really thought about it, weren't stupid at all.

He was the stupid one!

For never wanting to share his soda.

For getting jealous of all the attention Kuki showered them.

He was so stupid, stupid, stupid for being such a jerk to them—

"Hey!"

Nearly falling on his butt, Wally scoured for the origin of the booming voice, nearly peeing himself upon realizing that maybe, just maybe, it came from Joaquin.

It was a long-standing theory Kuki could understand animals with perfect clarity. She once claimed she could talk to them! It was nutty, yeah, but Wally never argued with her (partly for fear he wouldn't survive reprisal, but mostly because he respected Kuki—honest!). Why, he even indulged the cheery little girl when she offered to teach him Hamster-squeak. The lessons were boring, to be sure, but it was a good opportunity to spend time with her, and also listen to her voice do that cute little trill when she translated hamster sonnets.

Maybe the lessons had stuck. Maybe the stress of the night was getting to him and driving him cuckoo bananas. Wally, for the life of him, couldn't tell you. But whatever the reason, for the first time, he was willing to admit maybe Kuki had a point because he swore for that moment, he could understand Joaquin.

He understood as Joaquin glared down at him and said, "You better not be a jerk to Mama, or I'm gonna haunt you so hard!"

Wally's hands gripped his hair, nearly pulling them from the roots as he screamed into the night. He smacked his face, hyping himself up as he was the last to depart.

Joaquin released a breath he didn't know he was holding as sector V rushed from the fray.

Finally, they were safe.

"You care for them, don't you?"

His eyes widened as Sub-Snackurath's voice wormed its way into his mind.

"Fret not. They will join you soon in my eternal buffet."

The beast surged forth, surprising Joaquin with its sudden ferocity. He punched blindly, fists connecting with a jellied hide. Sub-Snackurath burst open its spores, eleven eldritch herbs and spices disorienting the hamster. Seizing the advantage, the dish from beyond the stars slammed Joaquin on his back, its noodle tentacles strapping him in place.

"You think you can eat me? Many have tried. Many have failed."

Sub-Snackurath expanded and dark, chocolaty sauce spilled from its eyes and moved like a living serpent as it forced its way into Joaquin's mouth. The hamster could do nothing as the sickening flavor ebbed at his anger, lulling him into a subdued slumber.

"Sleep, hamster," the maddening allure of Sub-Snackurath's voice dragged him into darkness. Joaquin's vision began to fade as the beast adsorbed him. "Sleep, and be devoured."

Further head, blowing past fencing and vaulting over barricades, sector V continued their march towards the belly of Father's den.

As they rounded the bend, finally stepping onto the stoned, garden path that led to the front lawn, the group stopped in place and aimed their weapons at the latest force attempting to stop their approach.

"You powered through the food faster than I thought, Mr. Uno," the spokesperson for Father's Board of Executives. The man stepped up, producing a watch from his suit's breast pocket. His cronies formed a defensive line behind him as he dryly smirked. "You have quite the knack for throwing off our timetables."

The teens and preteen were silent, glaringly hatefully at the adults present.

"Oh, what? No witty comeback?" the spokesman taunted. "I expected more from the infamous sector—"

A well-placed JAW-CRUSHER shot shut the man up. He went sprawling back, the line of executives barely breaking in time to avoid getting caught in the crossfire. All adults present seemed flabbergasted, whipping to stare at the kid in disbelief.

Hoagie lowered his smoking launcher, lips curled into a snarl. "We are not in the mood right now."

"…very well," a woman spoke. Heeding to some unspoken line of succession, she told her predecessor's sport and brought up her hand, pinching her fingers together. "Then let's get down to business."

With a snap, the horde of fancy suit-wearing executives swarmed sector V.

The Board of Executives surged forward, wielding their weaponized office tools with deadly precision. Nigel spun with his SPLANKER into action. With a flick of his wrist, the electromagnet whirred to life, propelling one of the wooden planks forward like a battering ram. He deftly parried the onslaught of red tape whips, the planks clashing against faces with a satisfying clang.

Hoagie put his SPORK pack to work. The kitchen utensil arms flailed and jabbed, knocking back the advancing executives with the force of a cyclone. He shouldered his JAW-CRUSHER and let loose a barrage of giant jawbreakers, sending the enemies scattering for cover.

Kuki twirled her GO sign with finesse. With each swing, she created openings for her teammates to exploit, the detachable scythe at the sign's end slicing through red tape and office supplies alike. Wally waded into the fray with fists flying. His movements were a blur as he ducked and weaved through the melee, his punches landing with painful precision.

Abby moved with cat-like grace, her BIRDIE held steady in her hands. With a sharp eye and steady aim, she picked off targets from a distance, the flaming bebe pellets leaving trails of smoke in their wake. Each shot was calculated, each strike lethal as she moved unseen through the chaos.

The executive changed tactics, moving to funnel the children into one group. Using tried and tested underhanded Ivy League business tactics (because the charts never lie) they managed to herd the children together long enough for their infantry to open fire with heavy, stapler machine guns.

The chewy shield of the GUMMA-GUARD sprang from Abby's lips, her quick reaction time saving them by the skin of their teeth. From behind her, Nigel and Kuki cupped their hands together, giving Wally a boost into the air. He crossed his hands into his jacket, chucking out his peppermint boomerangs at the peak of his jump.

The weapons clanged against the machine gun totting executives' hands. The moment their weapons dropped, Hoagie slid from behind the bubble gum shield and fired another volley from his JAW-CRUSHER. With their enemies' ranks broken, they made to push through, but all halted at the pained roar from behind.

Sector V looked back, crying in despair as they saw Joaquin fall to Sub-Snackurath. Quick to exploit their weakness, a flurry of red tape ensnared Nigel, Hoagie, Kuki, and Abby and promptly forced them to the ground.

"My, aren't you children easily distracted," the spokeswoman chuckled as her men held down the squirming kids. "That will be the last mistake you make tonight."

Wally landed in a roll, narrowly avoiding the trap himself. He sprang into an uppercut, knocking some adult's block off as he turned to free his friends. A wail from Joaquin tugged at his heart, and that same empathy would be his undoing as two executives leaped like praying mantis and hoisted him by his arms.

The boy snarled, wildly kicking his feet to free himself. His eyes caught sight of Sub-Snackurath absorbing Joaquin, and his doom seemed insignificant as he cried out for the hamster. "Nooo!"

Curious, the spokeswoman followed his line of sight. Upon seeing the cause of the fuss, she rolled her eyes and scoffed. "Really? Spare me. I'll never understand how you children get so worked up over some silly little pests."

Her reproachful tone struck something deep within Wally. He went still, ceasing his struggles as he shot the woman a venomous scowl. "What did you just say?"

"I mean, they're a dime a dozen. They breed the suckers like rabbits," she continued, glowering down at the boy. Her expression oozed smug, entitled adult superiority. "Easily replaceable. My daughter's hamster crocked while she was at school. Got a new one before she got home. Didn't even notice the difference."

Her dismissiveness pecked away at the last semblance of Wally's patience. Each jab reminded him of his past scorn for the creatures, his blind hatred towards the fuzzballs he took for granted. Each of her jeers reminded him of his ignorance about hamsters and just how wrong he had been about them.

"Shut up," he warned, voice low and dangerous as his bangs shadowed his eyes. "You…don't know a damn thing."

"I know I won't lose sleep over some disease-ridden rat," she crackled, flicking his nose. "It's just a stupid pet."

Wally lowered his head, then quickly shot up, crashing his skull into the chin of one of his captors. Teeth flew everywhere as the man went down. With his now free left arm, Wally landed his fist in the gut of the other captor quicker than any set of normal eyes could follow.

The spokeswoman jumped back, all weapons aimed at the boy who slowly rose from the ground, his tiny fists trembling with barely concealed rage.

"He's not just a stupid pet," Wally hissed, emerald eyes burning holes into the woman in front of him. "He has a name."

In a rich, decadent darkness, a little hamster floated between the waking world and that of sweet oblivion. His tiny, adorable little frame twitched, his golden fur and white underbelly darkening as he began to give in to the inevitably of it all.

He was so old. He was so tired.

He just wanted to sleep.

"No sleeping on the job!"

He groaned. That bark. That shaggy fur he could drown in. Always missing, yet right there when you needed him. An old, lovable hound dog who made sure you always found your way back home. DJ.

"Get up, dearie!"

His whiskers twitched. He remembered her. The warm voice of a fat, fluffy hen that wore a cute bonnet. Percy.

"Get off your butt, old man!"

His pink nose scrunched. That smell—no, that stench was unmistakable. It was one that always had his blood pressure rising and he remembered having a long, hearty laugh when the half-robot, half-skunk finally had kids of his own to drive him up the wall. Bradley.

"Grandpa!"

His ears twitched. That sweet, sweet voice. Even when she was a whining, naked little pup, he knew he didn't want to go a day without hearing it. Just like his daughter, she would have him wrapped around her paw. He watched her laugh, watched her cry, watched her grow into a fine young hamster. Just like her mother who gave her life to deliver her into this world. Pashmina.

Wally tore through the executives, swatting them away one after the other as he stomped up to the spokeswoman.

"That annoying little hamster has more heart than all you freaks put together," he growled. An executive cracked a red tape whip at him, but Wally simply caught it. He spun it around, using the man as a makeshift wrecking ball to mow down a dozen or so suits before jerking him inward so the sod could meet the business end of his knuckle sandwich. "That little soda-stealing pipsqueak gave it all he got and then some!"

"Hamsters work so hard!"

Her face. While his birth mother would be near and dear to his tiny heart, he would never forget the face of his second mother. The face of his Mama. Kuki.

But it wasn't just Kuki's face. No, he remembered others. That silly boy chasing after misguided crushes; his head in clouds, and yammering forever and forever about new inventions and modifications to hamster wheels. He could listen to that impassioned little boy until the end of time. Uncle Two. Hoagie.

There was another girl. So cool, so suave, acting so much older than she needed to be. She was kind, she was nurturing. She was brilliant in her empathy and always ready to provide a head scratch or an old magazine to nibble on. Auntie Five. Abby.

How could he forget the bald one? A boy so adamant in his dedication to eradicating injustice that he often neglected himself. To outsiders, it looked as if didn't care for them, viewing them as mere power sources. But he cared, by fluff did he care; fighting with Mama to make hamster holidays official, and staying up nights on end to repair their water fountains and change their bedding. Uncle One. Nigel.

"He ain't just some rodent!" Wally roared. Fueled by pure emotion, he was a golden streak against ebony. Punch after punch, kick after kick, executives fell by the dozens, toppled by a spunky boy who would not stay down. "He ain't just easily replaceable!"

Even in this cold, oppressive dark, he even remembered that boy. Ugh. Such a loud, stinky boy he was. Honestly, the only good thing about him was his soda stash and he was so gullible, ripe for pranking. Mama loved him, and it made all hamsters question her taste in potential mates.

…but there is always more to the story, isn't it? That boy, while dumb, was brave. While he was loud, he was right there to defend his friends. While he never hid his distaste for hamster-kind, he was quick to give them credit when it was earned. He even offered them endless soda after saving Mama from the jealous ghost hamsters with unfinished business. Yes, he remembered that boy and remembered him maybe not being all that bad. Dummyhead Four. Wally.

DJ, Percy, Bradley, Pashmina. Nigel, Hoagie, Kuki, Abby, and even Wally. Names he held so close to his heart, igniting a flame inside that pushed him forward—urged him to dig just a little deeper! He forced open his eyes, reaching towards a flickering light as his body strained against the pull of death. He wasn't ready to go.

Not just yet.

But all these names…

…what was his again?

Nigel nodded, a small smile gracing his lips. "It's a professional name."

Hoagie grinned in agreement. "It's like an action-movie star's name. Fits him like a glove!"

Crossing her arms and leaning against the wall, Abby jerked up her hat and chuckled. "Yeah. Name's kinda cool."

Kuki cooed, making kissy faces at the bundle in his arms. "It's the perfect name for such a cutey-wutey! Yes it is, yes it is!"

His name…

Wally jumped into the air, his boot connecting with the underside of the spokeswoman's head. She went flying, and he causally flicked his boomerang to the side. It whizzed through the air, cleanly slicing through the binding holding his team at bay. Finally freed, the other four kids jumped into action, falling in behind their combat specialist as the final few Board of Executives tittered nervously.

His hand caught the returning boomerang, and with a fire burning in his gaze, Wally wielded towards the villainous adult scum as he smirked. "He's more than a stupid pet. He's our stupid pet!"

"Nah, you're all wrong," Wally pouted from the bed. He swiped the bundle held it high and proud, just like in that lion movie he watched his dad. "It's a tough name. A tough name for a tough hamster!"

The hamster roared at the void, biting and clawing his way out.

He had a name!

A name given to him by children who loved him with all their heart and soul!

"His name is Joaquin."

A pet's love was pure, untainted by judgment or expectation.

It was a love that accepted flaws, embraced imperfections, and saw the best in a person even when they couldn't see it themselves. It saw past species, race, and gender and was drawn to true identity that dwelled in the soul of each and every human being deserving of it. So many are quick to dismiss animals. To some, they are toys, accessories, symbols of status, or mere slabs to be slaughtered and fed to an ever-greedy consuming system.

And those people? Animals are not idiots. They see our true souls. They see good in humans deserving it of it. It is to these humans that pets across the world give their gift.

The gift of unconditional love.

Somewhere, a gecko is performing a little flip just to see a smile on his child's face.

A poodle is tearing into the ankle of an abusive father to buy time for a mother to flee with her child.

A farm hen is extending her wings, allowing a toddler a hug as she accepts the featherless child as a part of her flock.

A senior cat is kneading into a teenager, making invisible, comforting biscuits to calm her teenager amid a meltdown.

Rachel T. McKenzie is fighting a war inside Evil Adult Industries, fueled by her ambition and the modified Battle Armor gifted by The Steve. She is exhausted, she is in pain, but she is determined to see this journey through until the bitter end. An adult sneaks up from behind, aiming his gun straight for her head. He hears a ghostly, high-pitched squeak of a hamster before something unseen bites into his ear, causing him to miss his shot.

And as he tears through Sub-Snackurath's torso, freeing himself and turning to end the disgruntled abomination once and for all, Joaquin remembers.

He remembers his first breath, his birth mother, remembers the pain, the suffering, the loss, the laughter, the joy, the magic, the whimsy, the pure absurdity of it all because he was a hamster for crying out loud! He powered a treehouse, he fought crazy old cat ladies, and senior citizombies, and had been to the moon and back. His life was not the life of a mere hamster, and it is definitely not one he signed up for…

Wally screamed as he swung his fists. "He's our hamster!"

The light was bright—so very painfully bright…

Joaquin laughed as he charged ahead, tears streaming from his eyes. It had been one, insano messed up life.

The life of a pet…

…But the soft and curious gazes of five pairs of eyes made it all worth it.

"HE'S KIDS NEXT DOOR!"

…his life. And if given the chance? He would live it all over again.

SO BREAK THROUGH IT ALL!

AND DON'T LOOK DOWN!

YOU WON'T FADE OUT!

Sub-Snackurath stumbled, its tentacles flailing wildly. Joaquin pressed on, using his immense size and strength to pummel the monster, each strike filled with years of pent-up frustration and guilt. For every life lost in the past, for every moment of fear and regret, he poured his heart and soul into the fight.

Joaquin's hands struck out, holding the beast still as he took a massive CHOMP. The creature froze, something resembling fear as Joaquin swallowed in one gulp and went back for seconds.

CAUSE THE FIRE IN YOU NEVER DIES

Bite after bite, Sub-Snackurath trembled with fury as its presence, for the first time in eons, began to falter and fade. The titan hamster landed blow after blow, stealing greedy handfuls of its moldy crust and scarfing it down like it was finger food. In a desperate attempt to flee, it spat globs of inky pudding, blinding Joaquin. It swept its tail under the hamster, sending him to his knees. All of Sub-Snackurath's tentacles congealed into a massive blade.

Just as It was about to execute Joaquin, a massive stream of root beer guzzled into Its side. It roared, coated in the sticky substance. Below, the Pets Next Door kept up the offensive to assist their leader until the final burp.

It comes around,

To light the flame!

They'll know your name…

BURNED INTO THEIR MEMORY!

Chief Guinea Pig and his army held fast, keeping up a continuous flow of root beer the dogs and puppies provided. DJ threw back his head, howling off the signal, "NOW!"

Percy and her hens formed into one massive hand, scooping something off the ground. They wound the fist, doing at least a dozen-and-one rotations before tossing something with all their clucking might. It soared like a comet across the field, layers of protective feathers fluttering away to reveal Bradley with Pashmina perched in his fedora.

As they approached Sub-Snackurath, Bradley grinned, eyes shooting upwards towards his companion. "Ready, kid?"

Pashmina unfurled her scarf, gripping it with one hand while the other twirled a needle four times her side. "Born ready!"

Don't stop, we're on a mission,

Overdriving over all the competition,

Counting up the damage when it's done!

Once more, Bradley's PAW blazed to life. The duo rocketed forth, determined to make the opening Joaquin needed to finish this fight.

The monster noticed his approach, letting out a frantic roar as it wiggled its tentacles in a desperate attempt to swat him down like before.

But this time, Pashmina was ready as she whipped out her scarf. "Not this time, ugly!"

With the little hamster's support, Bradley weaved through the flailing limbs with acrobatic grace, his eyes never leaving his target.

With a final burst of speed, Bradley thrust his arm forward, the PAW leading the charge. The rocket fist launched from his arm with explosive force, rocketing toward Sub-Snackurath's core. The air around it seemed to crackle with energy, a bright star of smelly justice blazing a trail through the battlefield.

The PAW glowed with a fierce, blinding light. Just as they crested its jaw, Bradley bucked the hamster off his head, shouting, "GO FOR THE EYES, PASHMINA!"

Pashmina leaped from the skunk, screaming as she used her needle to perform a flurry of pokes. Sub-Snackurath's cherry pit eyes were numerous—some would claim infinite. But by some fuzz miracle, the gusty, scarf-wielding hamster managed to pluck out every single one.

With the creature blinded, Bradley veered his trajectory downwards, aiming for the core.

We can't pretend to listen!

Sorry if it puts you in an imposition,

We won't stop until the battle's won!

The PAW connected with a resounding boom, the impact sending shockwaves through the air. The force of the blow drove deep into Sub-Snackurath's core, the monster's grotesque form shuddering violently. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as the energy from the PAW rippled through the creature, destabilizing its structure.

And then, there it was…

…Its dark, pulsating, otherworldly chocolate calamari heart.

In one resounding, symphony, the Pets Next Door barked, clucked, and squeaked as one to rally, "JOAQUIN!"

On the ground, Joaquin's eyes snapped open.

What goes around…

…Comes back around again!

He flipped on his legs, tightening his glorious glutes.

And if we don't come down…

…We'll be lost in the wind!

He reared his hand, his massive paws slowly coiling into a fist.

I know that we will find our way,

We'll do whatever it will take,

With a final squeaking roar, he surged forth.

And if we never reach the crown…

…WE'LL TAKE THE WHOLE THING DOWN!

With a burst of raw power, Joaquin lunged forward. His enormous fist, guided by the memories of love and strength, aimed straight for Sub-Snackurath's exposed heart. The air crackled with tension as his knuckles made contact, the impact resonating through the battlefield like a thunderclap.

Sub-Snackurath screeched in pain, its form convulsing as Joaquin's fist drove deeper into its core. The demon's body writhed, struggling to break free, but the hamster held firm. With a final, mighty push, Joaquin's hand pierced through, grabbing the grotesque heart.

Joaquin's mind raced with memories as he held the beating heart in his grasp.

He remembered the gentle nuzzles and the comforting purrs of his animal friends, the warmth of Kuki's hugs, the laughter and joy of Sector V.

He thought of the love and loyalty he felt for the children who had always seen him as more than just a pet.

They had loved him unconditionally…

"Hamsters work so hard!"

…and he had loved them back with all his heart.

The organ in his hand pulsated with dark energy, but Joaquin didn't hesitate. He brought it to his mouth and, with a final act of defiance, bit down. The taste was bitter, vile, but he continued, devouring the heart piece by piece. Each chew sent waves of power and pain through his body, but he pressed on.

Sub-Snackurath let out a final, agonized roar, its body disintegrating into a mess of crumbs and foul sludge.

The battlefield was silent for a moment, the storm easing as the monstrous presence faded.

Joaquin stood tall, his body trembling from the effort, but he knew it was over.

The demon was defeated.

The mighty form of Joaquin began to shimmer, the transformation ray's effects wearing off. His colossal body shrank mid-air, the once-massive titan reverting to his normal hamster size. The battlefield seemed to hold its breath as he plummeted toward the ground.

"Joaquin!" Bradley shouted, sprinting forward with Pashmina perched on his shoulder. Just in time, he caught the tiny, exhausted hamster in his paws, cradling him gently. Pashmina hopped down, her eyes wide with fear.

"Easy there, boss," Bradley said, his voice choked with emotion. "You did it. You really did it."

Joaquin leaned against Bradley, a tired but content smile on his face. "We did it, Bradley. All of us."

The thunder above rumbled, drizzle beginning to fall as Joaquin began coughing. His eyes closed, and Pashmina screamed and Bradley paled as he noted bits of blood.

Joaquin's eyes fluttered open, weak and tired. "The kids... are they safe?" he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Bradley, his tears streaming down his face, nodded vigorously, forcing a smile. "Yeah, boss. They're safe. You'll see them soon."

The rest of the Pets Next Door gathered around, forming a protective circle. Pashmina immediately called out, "MEDIC! PLEASE!"

A team of hamsters in nurse uniforms rushed over, their tiny paws working frantically to stabilize Joaquin. Bradley held him close, his tears dropping onto Joaquin's fur. "You're gonna be okay, old man. You're gonna be okay," he choked out, though his heart knew otherwise.

Behind them, Percy limped forward and shared a sorrowful look with DJ. DJ sniffed the air, sensing the inevitability. He shook his head silently, confirming what they all feared. Percy's eyes filled with tears, her beak quivering as she began to sob.

The nurse backed away, their heads low and lips quivering. Pashmina squeaked, enraged, and rushed to her grandfather's side. "G-Grandpa…y-you gotta get up!"

Joaquin stared up into her eyes cracking a smile. "I'm…I'm so proud of you, Pashmina."

"Don't talk like that!" she wailed, her tiny paws attempting CPR. Chief Guinea Pig waddled up behind. His hand gently caressed her shoulder, but she shrugged off the comfort, redoubling her efforts like a mad hamster possessed. "W-We…we'll go back to the Moonbase and tell everyone how awesome you were! Then we'll have a root beer party! I-I'll even make you banana slices!" She didn't know when, but at some point she had given up on CPR, simply laying her head on his chest and gripping him as if that would anchor him. "W-We…we'll…"

"…hey," he whispered, ushering her close. "C'mere…"

Pashmina snapped her face to his, eyes frantic for some miracle solution. Joaquin's breathing grew more labored. Summoning the last of his strength, he reached out a paw to softly boop her wet nose.

"Tag," he chuckled. "…you're it…Soopreme Squeaker, ma'am."

Pashmina was frozen. After a moment, she broke down further as she held his paw like a lifeline.

Joaquin quietly cooed to comfort her. He managed a wink up to Bradley. "Look after this one, Numbuh 6. That's…an order."

Bradley was silent for a moment, the weight of the responsibility and the impending loss crushing him. He finally nodded, lowering his fedora to hide his tears. His wife and children moved to comfort him, their presence a small solace in the grief-stricken moment.

Pashmina, tears streaming down her cheeks, clutched Joaquin's tiny paw. "You can't go, Grandpa. We need you…"

"Nah…you guys are gonna be just fine," Joaquin managed a weak laugh, his eyes closing slowly. "'Sides, I'm not going anywhere," he murmured. "I'm just... taking a nap." His voice grew fainter with each word. "Just…taking a…"

His body relaxed, and with one final, peaceful breath, the light in his eyes faded. The battlefield fell silent, the weight settling over everyone present. Pashmina wailed, turning to take comfort in Chief Guniea Pig's waiting embrace. The Pets Next Door huddled closer, heads low and hearts aching as they mourned the loss of their fearless, loyal leader.

As everyone around him grieved, DJ looked to the sky as it began to rain. He let loose a low, mournful howl that reverberated long into the night.

Joaquin died like any proud hamster should: cheeks stuffed, belly full…

…and knowing he gave it his all to protect the children he loved so very much.

"WAKE UP!"

SLAP

"OW!" Joaquin yelped, leaping up and cheek stinging. He looked around, panicked to see an endless field of fluffy white. He rubbed his face, tensing as he realized his body looked a lot younger than it should. "What the fluff—"

"Nice of you to join us in the land of the living!" Joaquin gasped, turning to see none other than Chubbo. His long-lost fellow hamster waved, his gold and white coat shimmering with an ethereal light. Chubbo snickered. "Well, not exactly living, but hey…them's the breaks."

"C-Chubbo?" Joaquin squeaked. He looked around with grim awe. "Is…is this hamster heaven?"

"No, it's New Jersey," Chubbo said dryly before chuckling again. "Where do you think you are, fuzz-for-brains?"

Joaquin looked at his paws, the last lingering regrets he held in life giving him pause. "I mean, I know they say all dogs go to heaven, but they never mention hamsters…especially ones like me."

"Are you kidding? You were an awesome hamster, Joaquin! Went out like a superhero and everything." Chubbo smugly grinned as he flicked his nose. "I mean, I'm still top hamster with my record, but nothing's wrong with second place."

Joaquin furrowed his brows. "Didn't you try and drag Mama to the afterlife that one time?"

"ANYWAY!" Chubbo said, perhaps a bit louder than he needed. He tugged on Joaquin's wrist. "C'mon, let me show you around! Should be able to get done with orientation before that next motocross derby."

Joaquin was hesitant. "But…what about the kids?"

Chubbo snapped his cute tiny fingers. The edges of the clouds parted, giving Joaquin a glimpse back on Earth. His heart filled with relief as sector V dispatched the last of the Board of Executives. "Thank goodness."

Chubbo smiled. "They're tougher than they look."

"But…will they be okay? I mean, after tonight? What will happen to them?"

At that, Chubbo frowned. "Wish I could tell you man, but we're dead; not omnipotent. The future is in their hands now." That answer didn't seem to bring Joaquin peace. Chubbo shook his head, patting his fellow hamster and giving a rueful smile. "You just gotta have faith, Joaquin. Now, you ready to go or what?"

Joaquin's gaze lingered. "I'd…just a little longer if you don't mind."

"Hey, take all the time you need. Ya got eternity, after all. Well, unless you sign up for the reincarnation program, but we'll go over that later." With that, Chubbo gave one last nuzzle before scurrying off.

His hesitant smile faded as Chubbo disappeared over the horizon. Joaquin went back to looking below, his heart shattering as he noted sector V looking back, no doubt for him. He wanted nothing more than to go back down there and be with them every step of the way. But considering the twists of fate that had already occurred, he had an inkling that too many rules had already been broken tonight.

However, he noted something. There, not far away also looking down, was another hamster spirit. Her back turned to him, her chestnut fur glistening in the light as she peered down at her own little spot on Earth. He fiddled his paws nervously before gaining the courage to step to her side.

Joaquin carefully waddled up to the other hamster, coughing gently into his paw. "Uh…hey."

The other hamster jumped, looking over at Joaquin. She blushed, shyly smiling as she rubbed her head. "Oh! Um, hello."

Joaquin awkwardly laughed, swaying on his feet. "So, you, uh…y'know, just pass too?"

"Hmm? Oh, no, no. I've been here a few years," she answered. She turned her gaze downward. "I've just…I've been coming out here a lot, recently."

Squinting his eyes, Joaquin tried to make out the image. The vision swirled, and he could just make out what he assumed to be the form of a teenager, clad in some wild battle-ready armor he had never seen fighting their way through businessmen. "That your kid?"

"Yeah," she mumbled, voice tinged with worry. "She's…been lost. For a very long time. All alone…I keep trying to reach out but…but I don't think her inner child can hear me anymore." Tears pricked her eyes. "I just want her to be happy…"

Joaquin's whiskers twitched sadly. The teen ducked into a closet, using the moment to recover. As she retracted her helmet, Joaquin involuntarily squeaked as he recognized those locks of blond her and hazel eyes. "Hey! I knew that kid!"

The other hamster's eyes widened. "Y-You did?"

"Yeah! She was friends with my kids." Joaquin extended his paw, concentrating on showing her his children not far away. "…and, maybe they are still friends? I think…my kids are trying to save her. Save all of them."

A hopeful little gasp escaped the other hamster. "Do you…do you think they will?"

"I don't know," Joaquin answered honestly. Her expression deflated, and remembering Chubbo's words, he gently took her paw and offered a smile. "But I guess we gotta have faith, right? We've done all we can. We just gotta believe in 'em."

The other hamster slowly returned his smile.

"Um, hey, so I'm kinda new around here. And I heard they got motocross derbies," Joaquin ventured. "Wanna show me around?"

Her eyes lit up. "Yeah! That sounds fun!"

"Cool! I'm Joaquin, by the way."

"Nice to meet you! I'm Bon-Bon."

The spokeswoman of the Board of Executives swayed and spun before finally succumbing to sweet, sweet unconsciousness. Wally unceremoniously stepped over her, dusting off his hands and turning up his head. He spared one last glance at the dogpile of bruised and sniveling adults. His face crinkled, building phlegm in the back of his throat before spitting it at their feet. Satisfied, he joined his friend and instantly deleted the losers from his short-term memory.

Nigel noted Wally's approach, walking up to greet him. He gripped the boy's hand, holding up his arm to bring it in a tightly, brotherly handshake. "Haven't seen you cut loose like that in a while, Numbuh 4."

Wally chuckled. "Well, I ain't one for book smarts. But when it comes to kickin' ass? Might as well be a freakin' genius."

The others gathered around, basking in the high of their victory. The head executives of Evil Adult Industries were an illusive bunch. Having them all gathered in one spot and promptly defeated and disabled would be a crippling blow to Father's empire should they properly follow through.

A low, depressing howl swept over them, immediately dousing their spirits. The kids looked back across the field, noting Sub-Snackurath was no more…but they also knew the price that had to be paid for that victory.

Clouds slowly drenched them with rain, mingling with their tears as they mourned the last of their beloved hamsters. Hoagie sniffled, struggling to keep strong as his shoulders shook. Abby came to encircle her arm around him, and they leaned into one another.

Wally pulled up the hoodie of his jacket, tugging the drawstring as he turned to kick over a lawn gnome that had the misfortune of invading his personal space. His back was to his friends, but ever so often, they could make out a muffled whimper as he used the length of his arm to wipe away tears and snot.

Nigel slowly walked up to Kuki, the girl's gaze transfixed on the empty spot on the horizon. There was no giant, fluffy hamster to wave back at her. The boy gently gripped her shoulder. "Kuki…are you okay?"

To his and everyone's shock, when she faced them, tears flowed freely—that was to be expected. What they didn't expect was the small smile cutting through the despair.

"He lived a super-duper long and happy life," she said softly, hand reaching up to squeeze Nigel's reassuringly. She tilted her head, closing her eyes and letting the rain tickle her face. As seconds went on, the droplets of rain felt more and more like tiny, wet hamster kisses. "He wouldn't want us to be all mopey and sad. He'd want us to keep going—to make sure there's a better future for everyone. Kids, hamsters, and all…"

Hoagie nodded along with Kuki's words, mustering a wobbly grin toward the sky. "I'll miss ya, little buddy."

"Losing a teammate during a suicide run on this dump," Abby grumbled as she spared a snide look to the Manor's front door. She snorted, putting her cap back on and spinning it around. "Lil' too much like old times if ya ask me."

"Got that right," Wally conceded, walking up to his friends with hands stuffed in his pockets. He cocked a brow, a small little smirk playing on his lips while he rolled his eyes in thought. "All we'd now is those five little weirdos yammering on 'bout how they're gonna 'destroy us once and for all'. Ha! Part of me almost misses those delightful dorks."

"Awwww, we missed you too, Wallabee."

The rain fell harder, its relentless patter almost drowning out the taunt that cut through the sorrow and disbelief. Sector V's heads snapped towards the source of the familiar, chillingly synchronized voices.

Standing in the open doorway of the Delightful Manor, illuminated by the intermittent flashes of lightning, were five pairs of ice-cold baby blue eyes they never expected to see again. They looked exactly as they had years ago, their clothes pristine, their faces locked in unsettlingly perfect smiles.

"My, my, my," they spoke, oxford shoes and ballet flats clacking against the wet stone as they descended the stairs. "How long has it been? Weeks? Months? Years? One tends to lose track of time being… sequestered away,"

Hoagie's eyes widened, his heart pounding as if trying to break free from his chest. He stumbled back, mouth agape, struggling to process what he was seeing. "No way... they... I-I thought they drowned at the Rainbow Monkey Let's Learn About the Lavatory Amusement Park?"

"You think we'd allow ourselves to be done in by mere toiletry?" they droned, each raising a single shrewd brow. "How little you must think of us. We're offended."

Kuki clung to Abby, her face pale. The other girl wasn't faring much better, eyes wide as her mind ran wild with so many questions.

Wally's fear turned into a manic confusion. "Robots. They gotta be robots. Or clones. Or... or something! I mean look at 'em!" He madly pointed, finger trembling. "They look the same. They haven't aged a day!"

The five children laughed, a sound that seemed to reverberate in the very bones of Sector V. "Oh, Wallabee," they chimed in unison, their tones dripping with mockery. "Always so quick to jump to conclusions."

"When Numbuh 4 told me your fate, a part of me refused to believe it," Nigel growled. His usually composed demeanor shattered, his jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed. "Seems I should've listened to it."

They grinned, thunder rumbling in time with their dark chuckle. "You know us so well, Nigel."

Abby shook her head, trying to dispel the surreal image before her. "This ain't real. It's gotta be another of Father's tricks."

"But it is real," they chorused, stepping out into the rain. Their presence felt like a dark omen, a nightmare made flesh. "And since it's been so long, we believe reintroductions are in order."

The rain poured harder, each drop a reminder of the gravity of their situation. The five figures stood together, their voices melding into a sinister harmony. Sector V flinched as a bolt of lightning illuminated their faces, and there was no mistaking. In front of them stood Bruce, Lenny, David, Alessandra, and Constance.

Looking as delightfully conceited as ever.

"Be ready, Kids Next Door, for a new lesson in pain," they said with a bow. They suddenly snapped up their heads, eyes piercing into sector V's very souls. "At the hands of the Delightful Children from Down the Lane."

transmission interrupted

Credits:

"Break Through It All" – SEGA SOUND TEAM, Tomoya Ohtani, Kellin Quinn