AN: Realized how long this chapter is. Womp womp. Sorry, everyone. I did my best with making sure this doesn't go too long. In the end, it's all I can do and it has a lot to tell. Hope you enjoy this chapter!
Chapter 29 - Understanding in Language
Melbourne Convention & Exhibition Centre
Webs only had a few chemistry science classes in high school. While she preferred computer science and engineering, she learned quite a lot as these chemical reactions could happen everywhere. If the degrading road could cause a water pipe to burst, then the human race could continue to learn why that happened when no one older did.
Despite not being strong in science, she still recognized the explosive experiments, mostly chemicals. Surprisingly, this convention had these in the science section with the smell of sour gases, bubbles floating around and noises from brand-new gear wheels.
She had to admire the colorful, chemical reactions from the fog and the foam. There were some good laughs from at least one booth setting itself on fire.
While she knew that Shark wouldn't mind, Gumbo's reaction interested her. After all, he wanted to go here. She wanted to point out his glasses, but seeing the crocodile geeking out was cute.
Holding a clipboard, writing many, many notes down. Even the unnecessary details. He seemed to know everything in each booth. His preppy eyes were soft every time they looked through each booth.
At the moment, they were observing what appeared to be a black snake firework experiment. At the back of the crowd, the taller Shark and Gumbo watched on. Two vendors were conducting the experiment, finishing the last touches in a metal container. One threw a match in and the effect was quicker than expected.
The coil of ash slithered out from the container, thick in quality, crusty in texture. It rose higher and longer, earning a couple of 'oohs' towards the magic. The snake eventually curled up once it reached the average adult's height before the top fell off while the original stump continued growing.
An impressed Shark snickered and elbowed Gumbo. "I wonder if Snake has to lose parts of his body when growing up. Get it?"
"I wonder why we didn't use this," cackled Webs. "This would be a great substitute for original fireworks!"
"Would he be alright with that?" asked Gumbo curiously.
"Maybe not. But hey! At least he can make a new friend!"
"...but it's a chemical reaction. Not a living creature."
This only made Shark laugh louder. "That's one way to put it."
"Now," said the lead scientist. "As you can see: when mixed with fire, they produce a carbon dioxide reaction and create this thick coil of ash to look like a black snake. However, we must inform you to be careful, especially when using large quantities. It should not be ingested. Now, onto the facts, people. What we showed you is a sugar snake. Can anyone guess what ingredients and elements are involved?"
"My guess is sugar, baking soda, lighting fluid and sand?" called Gumbo confidently. "The black snake reaction is caused by a mixture of sucrose and sodium bicarbonate. And because of the carbon dioxide production, it makes the growing snake airy and light."
"Correct!" said the lead scientist jovially. "And here, the sand is the solid fuel for the experiment to make the chemical reaction. And when the snake is lit, the sodium bicarbonate breaks down into carbon dioxide alongside two other chemical reactions."
"Would that be sodium carbonate and water vapor?"
The scientist nodded in surprise. "You're on point. The burning of sucrose would also produce carbon dioxide and water vapor. But sometimes, for some of the sucrose that does not burn, they decompose and produce elemental carbon."
Webs turned to Gumbo with an incredulous look. "Dude, did you take this off Wikipedia or something?"
Gumbo grinned giddy. "Kinda!" Followed by a bounce on his heels. "I'm just a huge fan of science!"
Shark was belatedly surprised by the high-pitched squeal in his voice. "Never knew you would like this!"
The crocodile chuckled, rubbing the back of his head shyly. "Well, I wanted to be a witch doctor when younger…"
For the crocodile's tough and spiky exterior, Gumbo acted like a dork and the addition of glasses made him fun to watch. Already finished watching, he admired the growing black snake with wide, shiny eyes. Seeing these sparkly eyes, Snark smiled to himself at this side of the crocodile. Could explain why he didn't value his muscle strength a lot.
"Actually, would you consider using the black snake fireworks?" asked Gumbo. "I mean, I'm not saying to use them as a weapon, but as a symbol?"
Webs laughed. "If Snake accepts them!"
"But he coddles his jelly snakes," pointed out Shark. "I don't think he would appreciate the side effects of making ash snakes."
"Enough to crumble an entire ship, I suppose," said Gumbo.
A random sandwich splattered near Shark's feet. A smudge somehow got onto Webs' beanie. As she grumbled and shook it off, Shark turned around to see where it came from. But when both he and Webs saw the source, they gasped, their eyes filled with panic.
It was Baron Hoggust again.
This time, the boar brought along many of his gang members, all dressed in matching red jackets with golden lining and black cuffs. For some reason, they fit the bill of a pirate gang. Everyone seemed to think of them as that. There were no complaints from the crowd as they passed by. They all just gave way to the wheelchair-ridden Baron.
The boar was munching on a sloppy sausage sizzle, his lips moving up and down. They squelched and squelched, wet in drool. Shark could even FEEL the wet sounds from far away.
"Oh no," squeaked Webs. "Not again…"
Remembering what happened last time, Shark nervously grinned. Wolf and Snake told him Baron was out for the Bad Guys. He was probably the most relentless of all the rival criminals chasing them. In a place where they couldn't receive an effective arrest warrant.
Not like that would stop Baron.
"We got to go," he said sheepishly, pushing Gumbo away.
"Do we have to?" whined the crocodile, attention still focused on the experiment.
"Yes! We should get moving."
He wasn't going to tell Gumbo about Baron Hoggust. Even if he had seen the boar before, they shouldn't cause a huge scene. Baron might be a little lazy, but he wasn't an idiot. He had his entire crew this time around. People would panic if a huge mob gang ripped the booths to pieces as weapons.
Fortunately, Gumbo complied and the three of them made their way to the next few sections. However, Shark and Webs tried to find one that appeared to be the busiest.
Like the city, a larger crowd would mean a lot of cover for them. This would discourage Baron and his crew from trying to get closer. They might learn their lesson after what happened last time.
Eventually, they arrived at the video game section. To their surprise, the section's tournament stage took up a huge area of the convention building. They ended up joining the watching crowd surrounding the stage, their computers already set up. Twelve computers in total, six on each side with a huge clearing in the middle.
Two competing teams climbed onto the stage, arousing excited cheers from the crowd. Techno music blasted out from the speakers, adding to the intense attention directed to the main show. And right on the monitor hanging from above, it presented an edgy and apocalyptic title card of 'STRIDENT ROADS'.
Webs immediately liked this music, reminding her of the good old days when playing video games. The fierce synths matched the stunning visuals, the rumbling bass of competition…on the other hand, Shark was winching at how LOUD the music was for such a simple competition.
"Whoa!" said Webs, clapping. "Now, this is my kind of party!"
Shark groaned a little. "Mmm, don't know. This doesn't feel like my mood. This feels a bit too much."
Despite being young, Gumbo could see his reason. "Welcome to Generation Z, my lad. Once on the stage, it's either going big or getting laid."
The crowd's cheer became much louder when the game's announcer and host came onto the stage, waving a glittery microphone.
"We're back and our teams are ready now for some Strideeeeeent ROADS!" she yelled, earning an excited roar from the crowd. "Both teams are recharged and back for Round 2! For those who just came in, you're about to watch an exciting 6 VS 6 match in this all-out, apocalyptic warzone! Find cover, use weapons at your disposal and try to outlast the other team!"
"Looks a little boring," muttered Gumbo.
Cue a zombie popping up on the monitors with a pair of melting orange eyes and half of its mouth missing. Both the crocodile and the shark screamed at the top of their lungs and hugged each other.
Webs was the only one unafraid. "Boring?"
A flustered Gumbo immediately let go of Shark. "OK. OK. At least we're not playing the game."
"Oh, and watch out for random NPCs," said the announcer casually. "Today, the returning teams are SparkLyghter022's clan and CreeperBros930's clan, who has long-running, sharp-eyed strategist KriskyKamer01! The computer machines were fixed to clear out bugs and now, they'll work smoothly."
Shark felt his device beeping. He checked and there was a target nearby. Right on…the stage. He looked up to see who had the Eden Apple, but it was hard to see. Thinking quickly, he pulled out a pair of neon holographic shades, letting them scan the area.
The glowing turquoise orb was found in one of the computer machines…connected to a monitor with the name tag 'KriskyKamer01' on its back. Said gamer looked like he was between his 30s and 40s, the eldest of the younger competitors on CreeperBros930's team. The old man was smirking and the wrinkles didn't let his confidence waver.
"Our target is in that computer machine," whispered Shark.
"I'm sorry, what?" said Webs.
"It's inside KriskyKamer01's computer case! He's using it…as a battery of source."
The tarantula narrowed her eyes, eyeing the computer case. "That doesn't even look like a brand computer case. It's customized!"
"…some guy here is using a modified weapon to power up his stats in the game?" asked Gumbo, trying to understand the situation.
"...it's a working theory," said Webs, pulling out her computer. "Well, whatever the case, gonna have to bust it out of there."
"Whoa, don't ruin the game for them."
"But that former researcher is cheating!" pointed out Webs. "You rather have him going into god mode without explanation?"
Shark had other thoughts. "Hmm, I think I would like to see how this goes! Wait until they finish."
"I hate to break it to you, but we better hurry. We're not exactly safe in this spot."
The giant shark shrugged, deciding not to worry about the rival criminals in the place. "Nah. We're untouchable! No one can provoke us if we're part of the crowd! I feel like we keep taking the crowd for granted. Also, I would like to know how gamers work since their bode looks like they'll flop like falling jelly…"
…in Gumbo's mind, Shark's words were muffled by the more exciting music playing onstage. He knew the older shark would like to see some action, but Gumbo wasn't so hot for video game tournaments that much unless it was something other than first-person shooters.
The crocodile looked to the side, hoping to find something more interesting in this sweaty crowd.
And there, he saw it.
His second time seeing Baron Hoggust.
The first time, he thought the boar would be rotting away. But this explained why he got some crooneys following him.
He seemed to have moved over to an unoccupied, closed booth, the boar's head peeking through the white curtains covering the entire booth. Three of his minions were returning, carrying large boxes of equipment.
Gumbo hummed, narrowing his eyes. If he couldn't pick on the Bad Guys, he could pick on Baron.
"...and video games often present something that falsifies the eye," blabbered Shark. "Maybe that might explain the wonky animation of those characters flailing their…"
There was no sign of Webs. She was already gone.
The same went for Gumbo, who was nowhere to be seen.
Shark gulped, a sweat drop rolling down the side of his face. "Oh no."
Inside the closed booth, the disgruntled Baron smacked his lips over a giant lollipop, watching his minions unpack the couple of chests they found. A few of them were watching with pipes in their mouths. The ones who went out on the job were giggling to themselves, proud of what they found.
However, their boss wasn't. He only saw junk that couldn't amount to the technology he could tinker with.
"More beakers?!" roared the boar, slapping one minion behind the head. "What are you? High school students?!"
"You said to find more sciency stuff," one of his minions dumbly pointed out. "So this kind of counts."
Baron hung his head, disgusted. "NO! What I meant is finding these stupid gear parts for my wheelchair! A WHEELCHAIR! I don't need bunsen burners or tongs or black snakes or a large aquarium case of raw sea fish to chew on!"
"Well, there's a large aquarium case filled with Swedish fish!" said one guy helpfully.
He only piped down when Baron's glare turned to him. "What are you? Finding Nemo?"
"I think so!" gasped another minion with big eyes. "This place is your dentist's!"
Baron just slapped his lollipop in his face. "This isn't my dentist's, idiot!"
"Well, the whole Halloween decoration here looks scary as your dentist's…" muttered the minion, peeling the lollipop off.
Tired and grumpy, Baron groaned loudly and rubbed his eyes. It was one of his days when he wished his minions could shape up for once. The problem was that finding recruits became harder nowadays since it was easy to bring the inexperienced without any consequences.
Necessary in number, but a total F in power.
All his minions were just chilling on whatever drug they could find.
He snatched back his lollipop and gave it one big slurp. "We don't really have time now! I want this convention scrapped top to bottom until we find enough parts to defeat the Bad Guys once and for all! I didn't pick harebells to explore and jingle around with."
"You mean going to Hazbin Hotel?" asked another minion dumbly.
"I think you will find a comfy bed in a prison," cut in a new voice.
And that voice was raspy, deep, unlike the younger minions in this booth.
Baron froze, nearly spitting out his lollipop. Taking it out from his mouth properly, he spun his wheelchair around to find Milton Gumbo entering the booth with his police badge held out and a stern glare.
At the sight of the tall crocodile, the minions finally took things seriously and shared looks of horror. They couldn't compete with this guy!
"Hands up where I can see them," said Gumbo, keeping an even-toned and calm stance. "You're all under arrest, Hoggust Clan."
Baron slowly lifted one arm…with the other still holding onto his lollipop and licking it.
"All of them…"
And he raised his other arm…before spinning the lollipop around.
Just like that, two of his minions immediately pounced on Gumbo and spun him onto the floor. The crocodile didn't have time to react appropriately as his large body slammed to the floor and rolled near the feet of the boar. Seeing this cop down brought a sick grin to Baron.
"Anyway, you get it now," said Baron darkly. "I can skin you alive all while that money from the carpet market distracts your buddies."
The baron's grin exposed all his teeth that could rival Gumbo's sharp ones. They were sharp as well but in yellow and brown dirt. The sugar craving from his lollipop produced droplets of acid saliva from his lips, dripping onto Gumbo's thick neck. It was cold.
Feeling this, the crocodile gasped and his tail curled upwards in shock. He didn't have field experience in a real fight, especially with a mob gang.
He quickly hopped back up onto his feet and lifted his hidden taser at Baron's head. "I'm telling you now! Surrender! You-!"
Out of nowhere, a beaker was thrown at his taser gun and it was knocked out of his hands.
"Ha!" exclaimed one of Baron's minions. "Never use a gun in a fistfight!"
The entrance to the outside was blocked by Baron's goons. Gumbo was outmatched. His face carried no reaction, but inside, he was scared. These guys looked skinny, but they might be dangerous. The baggy clothes might not help them. However, he was the only standing animal overtowering these little ones…
He closed his eyes and inhaled, praying his training was worth it.
"Fine then," said Gumbo, pulling off his glasses. "Must walk the walk with the terrorists."
Baron huffed. What a smartass. "Oooh, painful. Boys, to action!"
For some reason, all the minions raised their hands in the air. "We surrender!"
Silence.
Baron hung his head once again and slammed the lollipop to the ground. "NO! We talked about this! The other thing! The kung fu kicking-butt thing!"
"Ahhh…"
WHOCK!
And that was when Gumbo shot up and socked four minions in the jaw with a baton already stored in his hand.
The final round was about to begin. Already covered by her thin shield, Webs used her small size to hide and crawl underneath the computer tables without being spotted. She was already at KriskyKamer01's computer case when the players took their seats.
To her surprise, the computer case was more spacious on the inside. It was a good hiding spot in case KriskyKamer01 looked down to grab an energy drink.
Opening up the rectangular lid easily, she chuckled mischievously before hopping right in and closing the lid behind her.
"Are you ready, everyone?!" screamed the announcer. "Battle will begin in 10 seconds!"
"OK, so what's the plan?" asked one teammate on CreeperBros930's team.
"We come up with a tactical plan and swarm them!" said CreeperBros with an air of confidence. "Make sure you gather enough weapons. Don't try to pick a fight with any of the zombies. Until we have our inventory full, take them out! More weapons, more power!"
"Also, I have a likely chance that I'll gain a lot of luck like getting a lot of legal hacks!" added KriskyKamer01 with a smirk.
"...what now?"
"Forget what I said. Now…CHAAAAAARRRRGE!"
Both teams let out a high-pitched warcry to the excitement of the crowd.
Shark's interest in the intense match was replaced by his desperate search for Gumbo. Webs would already be on stage messing with KriskyKamer01, but losing track of the crocodile cop was a bigger problem. Who knows where the crocodile wandered off to, either to get the police or out of blindness? And Shark doubted Gumbo could handle himself after his defeats at the hands of Wolf, Snake and Diane.
Ironically, he couldn't spot the tall Gumbo in this crowd. No signs of his golden brown scales.
This crowd was too perfect for coverage.
Shark yelped when he heard a loud gunshot from the stage's speakers. Looking back at the battle, he noticed that both teams were already at physical war. He didn't need to look at the monitor above to see the battle in the game.
Nearly every single one of them was on the edge of their seats. Their teeth clenched to try to repress any scream they wanted to let out, their greedy eyes bugged out to find their target, their hands becoming sweaty as their fingers clicked rapidly on their keyboards and mouses…
…and there was this one gamer on SparkLyghter022's team who was just vibing, apparently listening to music on her headphones.
From the gamers standing up on their chairs to do weird movements with their controllers to having terrible communication that killed each other. Their looks and high-pitched shrieks incited madness. While they could hear the game's epic music and sound effects from their headphones, all Shark could hear was monkey clamoring.
Despite being tense, Shark chuckled lightly by the donnybrook before him.
"Kids," he said to himself. "Bunch of animals."
Gumbo had one hell of a time trying to put down Baron's henchmen.
The first wave, he was able to knock out with his batons in quick reflexes and swings. However, he was nearly subdued when three hopped onto his head and tried to lean him back. It got worse when one guy tried punching him in the face. In a hasty move, he immediately spun around, throwing the minions off his back and tripping nearby enemies with his tail.
As the remaining henchmen tried to come close to him, Gumbo tried swinging his baton at them. Only a couple of hits in their stomachs. Hesitant for too long to decide how to knock them out. This came to a disadvantage when one minion tried pouncing onto him, but he was quick enough to duck and watched him crash into an approaching minion from behind.
Another minion grabbed his shoulder and twirled him around to face him. Gumbo tried swinging his batons right at his head, but the minion was wise enough to punch them away. The sudden rush prevented Gumbo from processing the weapons out of his hands, now clenching his fists as he leaned back from an incoming jab.
Gumbo tried to punch forward. Miss. Block. The minion came closer, but Gumbo blocked it. He backed away and rushed towards him with a fist above. Gumbo tried spinning away, but the minion swung around and his foot kicked him in the throat. The crocodile gasped for air and the minion tried pulling him down by the neck.
Eventually, Gumbo thought quick and twirled around once again. This time, directing to hit the floor and the minion's back crunched against it with a sickening thud. Sensing other minions trying to get up, the crocodile swung one foot backwards with his heavy tail doing the trick. They all flipped upwards, legs in mid-air.
One minion was kicked so hard that he was thrown right at Baron…only to be punched away by the angry boar. "DAMN IT! WHY DO I HAVE TO DO EVERYTHING MYSELF?!"
Failing to notice the boar behind him, Gumbo received a blow to the head and a kick in the stomach. The crocodile let out a pained shout, his shaky feet struggling to keep his balance. Peering upwards, he spotted a metallic foot poking out from Baron's wheelchair, swinging downwards. Gumbo ducked and attempted an attack on the chin.
Without flinching, Baron blocked the punch, held onto it with his meaty hand and used it to pull Gumbo close enough to slam himself against the wall. To the boar's visible surprise, it actually didn't seem to bother Gumbo despite the fact his back could have been shattered. The crocodile grunted and with a furious yell, he leapt upwards to wrap his legs around Baron's neck.
But when he tried leaning back to spin his prey around, the support of Baron's wheelchair prevented Gumbo from making a move effective. Amid his awkward attempt, Baron pulled off the crocodile's legs easily and used them to slam Gumbo against the ground. Head-first. A satisfied grin crossed Baron's face, relishing the agonized scream from Gumbo.
With the game battle match coming to a close, Webs was wildly looking around inside the computer case, wiping the sweat off her forehead.
"OK," she said, observing the surrounding glitching devices plugged into the machinery cards. "That should be enough to not give anything away. Only problem is pulling the Eden Apple out could cause a sudden decrease in power when I switch it out. He would detect the problem."
The Eden Apple was hanging over her head, plugged in by multiple wires and attached cards. And right underneath it was her tablet, investigating the orb's effects on the computer.
"Let's see here," said Webs, analyzing the results on her laptop. "This modified version of the Eden Apple has…somehow given the player more abilities. Aimbot? Infinite health bar? X-ray vision?! Time slower?! It's like he got all the hacks in one without the viruses!" She thought about it. "...oh what the heck? I'll leave him a present when I switch it out with a better life supplier."
Outside, it was KriskyKamer01 as the sole survivor of his team against SparkLyter and the still-vibing gamer.
"Alright!" snarled KriskyKamer01. "Prepare to die!"
"I think you mean YOU will die," snarked SparkLyghter022. "Like your crybaby friends!"
"Oh, I'll smack you into Wednesday, you freak!" roared CreeperBros930.
"...eh, I'll get over it," said the female gamer casually.
KriskyKamer01 let out an evil laugh. "The thing, I cannot die! You can't get rid of me! All of your shots are meaningless! I'm untouchable! I'm unstoppable! MWAH HA HA HA HA HA!" He pressed right-click on his mouse to kill…followed by an unwanted sound. "Huh?!"
Just in time, as Shark tried looking around the side of the stage, Webs jumped right on his shoulder with an Eden Apple wrapped in her arm.
Shark's eyes turned to her, relieved. "Oh, there you are! I thought you would get hurt!"
"Nah, just some basic hacking," said Webs smugly. "I'm late because I left a gift for our dear Sunnyside researcher."
And it showed when KriskyKamer01's grin gradually faded in disbelief. He pressed his keyboard again, only to hear the same unwanted noise.
"No…no! No!" he cried. "I'm just…I'm dying repeatedly! I swear that this computer is clean of viruses! This couldn't be unless…"
To his utter shock, his screen was suddenly overfilled by animated graphics of Webs' taunting grin. With the large neon words 'YOU'VE BEEN HACKED'. They popped up one by one, covering the screen. He tried clicking back into the game, but the pop-up windows kept appearing like flies attracted to the sugar.
"No! NO!" he cried pathetically. "THIS CANNOT BE THE END! I'LL GET YOU ALL! I'LL DESTROY-!"
And the finishing blow was a simple touch of KrispKamer01's character by the dumbfounded avatar of SparkLyghter022.
"AND SPARKLYGHTER022'S TEAM WON!" shouted the announcer. "Some kind of error, but it ultimately didn't work for KriskyKamer01. A savage turn of events!"
At this, the audience cheered loudly. Immediately, all members of SparkLyghter022's team rose from their seats to jump in front of their celebrating fans. The female gamer was still vibing, humbly dancing along to her music.
Meanwhile, everyone on CreeperBros930's team glared at KriskyKamer01. The latter's computer suddenly crackled and emitted a long smoke trail. The older gamer could only sit in his chair in silence, his eye twitching.
"Cheaters never prosper," said Webs with a smirk.
"Dang, girl!" said Shark, impressed. "You even waited this long until the last minute!"
"Yep! Anyway, where is Mr. Crocodile?"
"That's what I'm trying to figure out."
They didn't need to wait as they suddenly heard cracking from a curtain-covered booth.
With the light still on inside, they could see the dark silhouettes of Baron pounding Gumbo around by tail like a ragdoll. Ever slam earned a high-pitched squeak from the crocodile.
"Well, we found him," said Webs blankly.
Back inside, Gumbo had his head up a roast turkey's butt.
"Good gracious…where'd everyone go?!" he whimpered. "I can't see…"
No, not kidding. His entire head was covered by a roast turkey. All he could taste and feel was the juiciness of early Thanksgiving. Fatigued and sore, he wobbled around on his legs.
Baron just laughed sadistically before simply bumping into the crocodile with his wheelchair. The young cop fell down, succumbing to his exhaustion. He got spunk, but it was clear he never ensured his attackers stayed down. It was a poetic battle for Baron. A victorious one!
"I would say you got guts, kid," said Baron as one of his minions planted their foot on the turkey. "But I wouldn't. You couldn't even do a death roll!"
"Ugh…" groaned Gumbo, unable to talk through the wet meat. "You…you will…"
"Pay? HA! I don't need to pay for anything!" To twist the knife, a minion of Baron's pressed his foot further onto the turkey, believing it would squeeze the crocodile's skull. "If you weren't a cop, you would have been in better hands. Now, who is going to care for you…?" He trailed off upon sniffing the new thick blanket of pink gas around him. "Well, that's not good-"
The smoke filling the entire booth was so powerful that it caused every single henchman to collapse and faint. Baron eventually slumped backwards in his wheelchair with a loud snore.
At this, Gumbo successfully tore off the roast turkey from his head and took a sniff of the gas, uncaring of the juice dripping from his jaw. He was more resistant to the gas due to experience, but he gagged in disgust by its flowery smell. God, it felt like it could set his nose holes on fire!
Shark and Webs entered the scene. Much like Webs' activated thin shield, Shark's covered his body in a vibrant purple color with lavender stripes crossing over his face. They barely caught a whiff of the overwhelming gas.
"Pee-yew!" huffed Gumbo, waving the air. "What is that, mate?!"
"Custom perfume bombs," explained Shark, grinning. "A little experiment on pest control. But, man, they did you dirty!"
The pain returned and the crocodile forced a smile when he tried standing up. His legs nearly gave way, making his body lean forward. His eyes widened at the thought his feet would snap. And the feeling that might come got his mind screaming for rest.
"I-I'm fine!" he claimed with a weak grin. "It was…fun."
Gumbo took a shaky step forward and the bottom of his foot flared in flames. Immediately, Shark held him under his chest to break his fall. The crocodile let out another painful moan, trying to fight through it.
"Whoa, whoa, careful, kid," whispered Shark with a look of a concerned mother. "Slow down."
Gumbo grunted, annoyed. "Don't call me a kid…"
Shark rolled his eyes. "You seriously need a medic. A bit of advice. You got spikes, right? Use that back of yours as a shield. It should absorb the impact of heavier hits without feeling them."
The sky was already turning dark and they didn't want to stay for the night. The trio chose to call security over to take care of Baron and his sycophants (even if they would escape from jail again). Fortunately, the convention carried on without interruptions and the rival criminals trying to kill Shark and Webs already evacuated.
The sun's departing orange glow illuminated the white bandages wrapped around Gumbo's limbs, cared for by the two Bad Guys. All of them were sitting down with Webs offering to take a closer look to see which scratch needed the most healing. The crocodile could only sit there patiently, attentive to the care given.
"Now, just one more," said Webs, applying a small alcohol cloth to a bruise on Gumbo's tail.
The crocodile had to squeeze his tail to not flinch. "Ah!" He hissed, swallowing. "I-I'm alright, you two."
His pride as a cop remained, evident by his repressed whimpers. He remained a blank state with watchful eyes, not daring to take a swing. He closed his eyes, letting Webs wrap the last remaining bandages around his tail.
Once done, he took a deep breath. Gumbo stared down at the bandages. Not one looked wrinkled or loose. He smiled warmly. "You know, for a bunch of criminals, you two are bloody kind."
Shark smiled sweetly. "Aww! Thanks! It's like our family motto."
Gumbo looked back up at them. "Hmm, come to think of it, you got out that much to do…these kinds of things for good? Like what I tried doing with that pig?"
"It depends," admitted Webs meekly. "Obviously, I'm not big enough to fight."
"And I'm big enough to crumble the tower. At least you got a flat bod!" Shark guffawed, wiggling his belly. "Compared to mine. I'm not that quick."
Gumbo couldn't lie that Shark's belly was slightly more bloated than his flat stomach. Even if it was meant as a joke, Shark's proud and chill smirk indicated his fondness for his belly. His body. It came to Gumbo's attention about how his body could easily fit through different clothing, even from past newspapers he saw of his disguises. He even proudly demonstrated his strength for the 'Test Your Strength' game.
It got Gumbo curious again about Shark being non-binary.
He asked again, trying to be sensible. "Say, um, how do you exactly feel if…you don't identify yourself as 'non-binary'? Does it make your body…feel uncomfortable or…" He immediately cut short, feeling awkward. "Sorry. I'm being too logical again."
Shark didn't even get to answer and the crocodile looked away, flustered. The two Bad Guys stared at him for a while, feeling something different. They noted that this time, he was trying to understand.
There was genuine and careful interest. Him looking away wasn't exactly a nice gesture, but he was in the middle of warming up to them.
After contemplating for a long time, Shark felt relaxed to explain. The crocodile was already in a good listening mood.
"Honestly, I feel torn if I'm not allowed to choose," said Shark with a longing look. "Not macho enough or girly enough. Like I feel there's something wrong. You know the feeling of holding the bubbles in a fizzy drink? Like needing to be free from feeling restless. You sometimes have the words but do not have them since no one knows where they come from. Like they need to come from somewhere 'safe'. Know what I'm saying?"
Gumbo slowly nodded, learning.
"But once I step forward and don't think of associating myself with one label…" A feeling of utopia comforted Shark, allowing him to smile. Feel the cold breeze. The space before him was open. "...then I'm free to feel safe."
Gumbo thought for a while. "So with these 'labels', does this include…how your body 'should' be?"
Shark guffawed, slapping Gumbo's knee. "Heavens, no. I'm not ungrateful for how I was born. It's more like…it's fluid enough to fit into anything! You know the feeling as a baby you want to do everything? That sticks with me the longest. That's why I take the master of disguise seriously. I am comfortable being 'the man' but that doesn't mean I want to be just that. It's hard being expected to act like a 'real man' when I know I'm not…"
As he trailed off, his mind returned to his father's words. He could hear him talking about his golden earring, the colors he wore…and acting soft. Soft enough to be caught off-guard and die. He frowned when he recalled the burden of letting his father down. After all he learnt from him.
Gumbo leaned in closer, sympathetic. "Was it easy…telling your family? I understand since when being 'different'..."
Shark shook his head, grim. "I never told my blood family anything. Nothing more than an unnecessary quirk for them. I don't even have the bloodlust."
Immediately, Webs came to his support and patted Shark on the shoulder. "Hey, Shark, buddy! You know your father isn't a good man. You don't need his understanding to follow what you want."
The touch was small, but it seemed to move Shark, pulling his bottom lips back in uncertainty. "He's still family…but, regardless if he's around or not, do you think everyone sees it as dumb?"
Webs cooed softly. "Well, I am a tomboy and my parents are annoyed that I don't have a partner. And here we are."
Even Gumbo was quick to join in. "That's actually true. From what I see now, there's nothing wrong with not having these labels to know yourself. Just like me shrugging off the scary crocodile label, nobody sees the difference when I'm acting like me."
The crocodile knew he had it better, but he knew that by not worrying about his appearance, he got the freedom to be whatever he wanted. It even came to Shark that Gumbo passed the difficulty of his identity. This cop held his chin high surprisingly well without being let down by a singular fear of his standing.
And to think that Shark held his reason secret, getting to share it told him he wasn't alone.
He smiled widely and gratefully. "I suppose so. Thank you, you two."
A gentle pat on the head got Webs beaming, the earlier uneasiness cleared up. Despite Oscar still out there, it was a good giant leap for them. It helped that Gumbo joined in on telling Shark that it wasn't wrong to 'act' differently.
The aforementioned crocodile gave an amiable smile before he stood up. "We'll call it a night. Glad we had this…deal? Hanging out? How should I say this?"
Shark chuckled, patting the crocodile on the back. "You're a good cop, Milton. Never lose that."
Gumbo's first instinct was to correct Shark, but he ultimately decided not to say. The crocodile was in shock until he remembered that he grew to like Shark and Webs. He only allowed his closest friends to call him by his first name. And he was…comfortable with Shark calling him 'Milton'. What considerate irony of his attitude towards these Bad Guys.
After all, they did fulfill their deal.
The crocodile chuckled shyly, his tail wagging a little. "That will mean I'll still chase you two on the streets."
"More fun that way!" cooed Webs.
The Mecha Underlords' Devil Ship, ?
[Misfit - Rockit League & Deadlands; On Repeat]
Splaarghön had the metalcore song on replay from the cafeteria's speakers. Kept at a soft volume so as not to disturb those nearby, but loud enough for her to listen.
She kept her right hand far from her face, rhythmically changing from one to two fingers as if counting. She looked to the left, hit her right hand close to her heart and slammed her right foot to her left. And when she heard the loudest beat, she slammed her hands downwards and kicked her right foot forward.
Dancing wasn't often associated to the harsh and urgent sound of metal. Metal rock called for chaos, not for technical routines. But the harmonious tone coupled with the intensity she hid soothed her soul. Repeating these steps, she felt sassy and then ferocious in her kick: the execution of energy huge. Each repeat was a mental relearning, a reminder of what defined her.
Once she counted four, she twirled around using her left leg to guide her and then swung her open left hand upwards as if throwing flowers. Only for faint pink glitch cubes trickle from the tip of her fingers. The music continued playing, letting Splaarghön take in the powerful routine.
Maybe she might apply this for a battle. Someday, she thought.
Wait, what was she supposed to do? She turned around to face the crowded kitchen bench. Oh, right, she thought. Her grin tightened, remembering that she was gonna help cook for tonight's dinner meals. The ingredients, already in pots and small bowls, remained untouched. Her eyes turned to the giant meat bowl in the middle. It should fill up at least 20 people.
She glanced at the small bowls of spices. They appeared quite small. The recipe strictly said they were the right measurements. With a shrug, she dumped every small bowl into the pile of meat. Should be enough. That was what she believed.
While she was preparing the meat seasoning, the door clicked open and Shaård came through with two boxes of fresh produce in his hands. Much like Splaarghön, he switched back to his casual outfit.
"You're sure this is all you need?" he asked, throwing the boxes upwards.
Splaarghön twirled around and grabbed the boxes with a smirk. "Yep! Enough to start a fire!" She looked inside the top boxes and frowned. "Oh, I don't need these."
Shaård couldn't help but raise his eyebrows as he was given the unwanted apples and oranges. "I agree to disagree."
With a smirk of his own, he juggled the ten fruits in his hand…before whipping out two skewer sticks and throwing the fruits upwards. His hands were a blur as he stabbed every flying fruit before they could reach his shoulders. By the time he was done, these fruits were skewered by the sticks he carried. He didn't seem to mind the juice rolling down onto his hands.
Splaarghön thought of pointing this out but decided to comment on Shaård's new idea.
"Whoa!" she said, putting the two boxes on the kitchen table. "When did you think of doing that?"
"The minute you threw those fruits away," Shaård said, spinning one fruit kebab reflexively. "Can't put them aside as junk."
"But fruits are snacks. Not dinner."
"But they can be cooked for a BBQ and spiced up for dessert! You have some honey?"
Splaarghön seemed to take this literally. With a bottle of honey nearby, she slowly reached over to the fruit kebab…and squeezed too hard, drenching the two fruit skewers and Shaård's arms in honey. Followed by throwing some pepper onto the coating. She then took a bite before nodding, oblivious to Shaård's twitching grin.
"OK, smartypants," said the pink-haired cyborg, taking a tray. "You got me. Hopefully, there won't be leftovers of those…apple...cranberry…" She glanced back at the open cookbook nearby. "...nutmeg fritters?"
"It's called a fruit skewer," explained Shaård, placing the fruit kebabs on the tray.
"Huh, guess I haven't got to there in my cookbook."
A quick wash of his hands and arms didn't take long for Shaård. But when he noticed the shiny little pinches of spices in the meat, it took him long to comprehend the lack of other sauces included. Aside from the vegetables, it didn't look like she would even use butter. He peeked at the recipe in the cookbook and gasped.
"Wait…you're going for THAT recipe?" he said in disbelief.
"What?" said Splaarghön defensively. "It's important for a good diversity for our loyal subjects. I've made a good range of meals lately. Chicken Parma. Easter Egg of Surprise. Peanut Butter on Broccoli."
"You nearly killed people with the peanut butter," deadpanned Shaård.
"Didn't they grow out of that allergy?"
"Well, that explains why several have a mute button in their throat. But this recipe…" The male cyborg shivered at the potential bland taste in his mouth. "It's not as good as it looks."
"But they use a couple of spices and salt. And herbs."
"But you didn't put in enough," said Shaård, waving his hand across the meat bowl. "The quantity you put in would only give the smell. The food wouldn't be tasty in the mouth. Smell appeals, but so does flavor. It needs to EXPLODE in the mouth!"
Splaarghön had a sense of deja vu of what was going on.
"So…you're saying that water is not tasteful?" she asked playfylly.
"What?" said Shaård. "No. I'm not saying that."
"Then that settles things because I love tasting Melbourne's cool, refreshing water. I think this is meant to be a healthy dish."
Shaård narrowed his eyes on the image in the cookbook. "The look of that picture makes it jarring for its lack of taste."
"Well, the meat will be tender, so nothing to worry about!"
"You're just going to bore my mind off by then."
Splaarghön laughed, slapping Shaård's shoulder. "Gosh, you're still on the passionate side."
"As much as I am passionate about meat pies, witchetty grub and emu."
"You really like more of the taste, don't you?" sassed Splaarghön, patting her friend's shoulder.
Shaård chuckled and gave a friendly embrace with her from behind. "At least you have taste with your hoodie."
That comment actually got Splaarghön to feel lightheaded. She always loved styling her outfits but never bothered checking on her pear shape or gains. And for reason, picturing this in her head made her feel more in love. Did Shaård like her looks?
Then, her eyes drifted to the biceps of his warm, gentle arms. He was a hunk. Ripped! These sharp muscles could crush a watermelon. She remembered the rock feeling when touching them.
Her face burned from the thought of these muscles pressing her cheek. Flustered, she slipped out from Shaård's grip. She failed to not laugh hysterically, clutching her stomach through the butterflies.
"Stop, seriously, stop!" she laughed, lovesick.
Even Shaård appeared embarrassed, directing his blush to the wall.
Splaarghön suddenly had a thought. They were friends for a while and ever since their third co-founder left, it was only the two of them. Thick and thorough and always on the same page. However, after remembering the many times he stayed close to her, he seemed to be growing more attached to her, like when they were kids.
She crossed her arms, her smile wiggly in bashfulness. She was already thinking if there was a chance to…cross the gap?
"Do you think someday we might be a…" She paused, needing to catch her breath. "...thing someday?"
Shaård froze and his shyness slowly turned into a forlorn look. Immediately, Splaarghön realized she touched a nerve. Before she could ask, Shaård shook his head and leaned against the wall, keeping his eyes on the floor.
"Sorry, Splaarghön," he said quietly. "I'm…not looking for a relationship now."
Splaarghön hummed, rubbing her arm awkwardly. "You're still thinking about Sharon?"
Shaård flinched. "N-No! Maybe?" He looked back at Splaarghön, his friend. He would rather bury himself in work. "It only…began again when I told Oscar today. I know you think of Sharon as insane, but-"
Splaarghön was shocked. "What? No." She cleared her throat, putting her hands together. "I…I didn't mean to call her that. I mean, yes, she…" A hole opened up inside her chest, leaving her nearly feeling too drained to continue. "I just…I felt she always was…" She couldn't get to say it, even if she felt righteous back then. "The two of us weren't…"
Eventually, she couldn't bring herself to say more or even look at Shaård. She was angry. Yes, she was. At the last time she saw Sharon. But there was also despair. How it all became a betrayal to her, nearly dragging Shaård into it. Her lips were trembling and her eyes were watery, but she refused to tear up due to her own arrogance.
Splaarghön only looked down with a whisper to cover up her cracking voice. "…s-sorry, I don't have the words."
Shaård's eyes met her crestfallen eyes, one of the people who changed his life. His fingers dug into his palm, hurting him. Hurting him for letting his guilt manage this. After mentally urging himself, he tried swallowing the bitterness down his throat.
"I know," he croaked. "I know you love Sharon as much as I do. Now I don't want a new mate. It's…not possible. I mean, you won't listen to me-"
Incredulous, Splaarghön instantly came right beside him against the wall, her loyalty remaining close. "What? Of course not! We're friends, remember? I would never ignore you. You mean a lot to me as well."
Shaård turned to the person who encouraged him to find his own voice. And her telling him that he meant a lot to her was something he clung onto. Rubbing his nose, his eyes were directed down on the fear he might implode. But despite everything, he wanted her to be a part of his life.
He smiled sadly. "R-Right. And I hope to still hear from you. But…keep it steady. For Sharon. OK?"
He slowly bumped his shoulder into Splaarghön's affectionately. While Splaarghön wanted to respect his decision, it was a sign that he was alright with her being around. She didn't mean to upset her friend over this stupid idea on love, but she wondered what else could make him feel safe.
"Maybe I should find Sharon later on…" thought Splaarghön gloomily. "But it's not possible. Is it?"
Before she could dwell on it further, Oscar arrived with a weary look. Only his cape was missing. His tiredness was unnoticed by the two cyborgs, plastered by a fake clown smile. The kind of smile when stepping over broken glass all day.
Splaarghön smiled, happy to see him. "Oscar! Right on time!"
Oscar already felt like he was drowning, not even when he saw Shaård mustering up a kind smile. He was worn out, lost from his previous incident. He refused to let that be known. He refused to let it define his weakness. He could only give a weak chuckle as he came close to the younger two cyborgs.
Fortunately, he brought his attention to the song replaying on the speakers.
"Is that…heavy metal guitar?" he asked.
Splaarghön grinned in pride. "Yes, it sets the mood!"
It was loud. REALLY loud. He didn't mind the gruff screaming whenever the singer seemed to get mad, but hearing those screams repeatedly for three minutes was more annoying. Like an eye worm. Combined with the weird sounds the guitars played at certain parts. And despite the threatening presentation, the raspy and demonic vocals were just weird.
"Of being an edgelord?" asked Oscar dumbly.
"IT'S NOT A PHASE, OLD MAN!"
Both Splaarghön and Shaård suddenly looked more murderous. With glowing eyes in a darker shade of their signature color and bared sharp teeth.
In fact, seeing the provoked reactions cheered Oscar up. "Looks like so."
Shaård growled. LITERALLY growling. "Jeez, you're quite old-fashioned."
Oscar shrugged in ignorance. "Anyway, what are you two cooking?"
Splaarghön's temper immediately fizzled out, gingerly presenting the recipe from the cookbook. "Oh, this."
Oscar was surprised that those kids picked a healthy recipe compared to the unhealthy music. No longer feeling like he couldn't get out, he was filled with curiosity as to what these little cooks were doing. Never knew they had THIS responsibility for a big empire.
Staring at the meat bowl, he calmly grabbed one meat slice and gulped it whole, earning wide eyes from Splaarghön and Shaård.
But all Oscar could taste was something similar to bland salmon.
Swallowing, he crossed his arms, unimpressed. "If I'm Gordon Ramsay, then I would say this cooking would turn out to taste like bull-"
"Seriously, why is everyone so worried about taste?" deadpanned Splaarghön.
"Shush, don't interrupt me," sassed Oscar, placing his pinkie thumb over the cyborg's mouth. "There's no taste of salt or pepper. The spice seems to be excessive in certain parts. I can still feel clumps and bones in the meat: not sliced perfectly." He rolled the raw meat in his mouth again. "Oh, and it's not necessary, but it's not human meat."
A disgusted Splaarghön poked her tongue out. "What's wrong with you? We're not cannibals!"
"You're still going to preserve the flesh of the D-class prisoners for the werewolf cyborgs?" snarked Shaård.
Splaarghön gave him the creepiest glare and it was so unintimidating that it got Shaård corpsing.
"I propose a sauce to add for the seasoning," said Oscar, making himself home in the small kitchen area. "Should be close to the recipe. Now, where do you keep all of your sauces?"
"It's in the fridge," said Splaarghön.
No one could stop Oscar when he tore the fridge door open and collected a mixture of sauce and milk bottles. Once gathered, he pulled out a large bowl and a wooden spoon before he poured each bottle in. The two human cyborgs watched carefully, nearly thinking Oscar was throwing in the rubbish.
But to their surprise, the liquids splashing in the bowl didn't clash surprisingly. He even stirred gently, unlike his rough attitude. After a few careful whips, a velvet, red-orange cream took over. Oscar was really going for something really specific. Once done, he scooped some of the new sauce with the wooden spoon.
"Try it," said Oscar, grinning. "You won't die from it."
Splaarghön and a suspicious Shaård dipped their fingers from the spoon and licked them. The second the sauce hit the tongue, it suddenly felt like heaven.
Splaarghön, in particular, was amazed. "Oh…oh…OH! This actually tastes really good! Even nearly matching the seasoning of this recipe!"
"That's what I'm talking about," said Shaård, unable to stop grinning in satisfaction. "I…I can even taste many herbs in it. Though, it tastes like buffalo wings."
Oscar took this in stride. "Well, I can reassure you, that's a bit of my wife's special buffalo sauce. She's a little vain of it, but for good reason. It was her favorite, even drinking it for her last supper before she passed away. I learnt from her. I'll admit, it's the only sauce I can make without using instant noodle seasonings."
"And yet, I was beginning to think you're secretly a master chef," teased Shaård. "Your wife should be proud that you carried on the tradition."
"And I heard the Bad Guys tried doing it," admitted Oscar reluctantly. "Lou…told me once Mr. Piranha attempted to. I bet it's not as good as mine."
Splaarghön nodded. "The sauce is good to go on the chicken then!"
Oscar immediately poured the buffalo sauce into the meat pile. As an exaggeration of its tastiness, they could hear the meat popping in response. Splaarghön took over, taking out a spoon to stir the saucy meat evenly.
Shaård smirked in both irony and glee. Before, he was quite wary towards Oscar. Maybe it was due to pitying the Great White Shark, but he was starting to comprehend Oscar's strange generosity. Even if it was just cooking.
"Oh, what a great family we are," he sang jokingly. "The kooky, dysfunctional and definitely-not-psychotic family of all time!"
"Oh, we still are," said Splaarghön without hesitating. "Anyway, today's experiment on the chemical went alright? Doing alright thinking about your son?"
Oscar closed his eyes, expecting another guilt trip. Like said before, he wasn't going to reveal to them that he suffered another vision. His co-workers might spill the beans, but he wasn't ready to admit it. Not when he was starting to feel good at this moment. However, instead, he decided to give the more positive side. He took a professional stance in talking about results.
"Can call it a success," he said flatly. "There were no setbacks. It's just on a guinea pig so far. However, I need a sample of your DNA, Splaarghön. It's necessary for the chemical."
"You need my blood?" asked Splaarghön.
Oscar nodded with a serious look. "Through a clean needle."
"Sounds like you were well-behaved?" asked Shaård.
"A bit tense," admitted Oscar, rolling his eyes in annoyance. "I lashed out a little. But at the end of the day…I promised I'd take breaks."
"Grumpy much?"
"And about how I'm feeling about my son…" Oscar took a moment to progress through his worries. "I'm still not happy, but I'll give him a chance. I hope he is doing well."
"He will be," said Splaarghön, patting Oscar on the shoulder. "I promise." She suddenly stopped stirring the meat around upon a familiar feeling. Envy. She hummed sadly. "You know, you're lucky to have a family."
Oscar was confused. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, Lou only left when he was old enough, you didn't run into any problems and you sharks grew under a shelter together." Splaarghön had a wistful look. "It's a comforting thought that even some of the reckless could maintain a comfortable household."
"Oh."
'Oh' was the right term indeed.
Oscar couldn't really say that he agreed to this. It didn't feel like a comfortable household. His relationships with his son and wife were strained. He still loved the thrill of crime and murder. And when it came to his son, it was anything but good since his son wasn't like him. Thinking about it again made Oscar feel guilty about what he should have done before.
But as he thought back, there were some good memories. At least Lou took some advice from him that allowed for longer survival. Even if it meant sticking with those pathetic Bad Guys. Maybe most of the good memories were before Judy passed away. That time was easier, simpler. Adjustable to relate to both of them.
Judy wasn't sure at first. This could be something Lou might discard when he becomes older. But his sweet eyes showed interest. A massive contrast to how he viewed his father's lessons. Maybe this might be a good thing for Lou. This was admired by humans as well, right? So that would make them humane?
With this thought, Judy felt warm inside. She found herself feeling…happy.
"Of course, my little shark," she said, picking Lou up and on her lap.
Oscar gasped, trying to process his son's intrigue. His son never showed interest before. He would often appear afraid of what he presented. But how come Judy managed to interest their son? How was she able to reach his motivation in educating him? Alas, it did relieve Oscar since it was the first time he saw Lou liking something for once.
Oscar chuckled to himself over the memory of when Lou first gained his interest in acting. It was a pipe dream but adorable watching him mimic the many characters he could think of. Effective for being a con, which Lou had no qualms over. Now might be different, however.
Oscar frowned slightly. "I cannot say it's perfect. I'm guessing that yours is much more stable, you two?"
Splaarghön grunted, slamming the spoon against the bowl. "I…erm…I actually stayed with Shaård's family the longest."
It was this hint that Oscar believed she might not see her blood family stable as well. And then, he decided to ask further. He thought it might help him relate to his son better now that he was connecting with these two.
"What happened to yours?" he asked.
Splaarghön's pink eye glowed brightly. She rolled her shoulders, uncomfortable with telling the full story. She could say too much when asked about her past. However, Oscar might not take it too seriously or fuss about it. She could feel Shaård's eyes staring at her in concern, but she decided to give the abridged version.
"I haven't seen my parents ever since they were arrested…over related crimes and financial issues. But I'll say Shaård's family is perfect since they picked me before I could go." She smiled, waving her spoon around in chosen forgetfulness. "I mean, it's a family of different cultures! Sensational!"
"Don't take that to face value," added Shaård in discomfort. "...but it's true now that we are of different cultures. We tried to understand each other, even when she moved in. Got to say, I never knew you managed to pick that many languages up."
"And that's why I got an A in Chinese," said Splaarghön, side-hugging the male cyborg.
Oscar shouldn't be too surprised, but he raised both eyebrows. "To be honest, I thought you two were siblings. So, you're like adoptive siblings?"
"Not really, since me and Sharon met her before she had to move in with me," said Shaård, fiddling with a loose hair strand. "...and I had a crush on her when we were children before I settled with Sharon. Call it having Splaarghön as a roommate."
"Yeah, we prefer being called friends," said Splaarghön, smiling. "Unless-"
"Guess that you two are lucky to have an extended family, huh?" congratulated Oscar. "Are they aware of what you two are doing?"
Shaård shook his head simply. "I haven't told them. I don't want them to worry. I mean, they already have a lot of jobs they and I don't think they'll be able to handle what we're doing."
"You know that the invitation for them to come here is still open," offered Splaarghön.
"I know, but I don't want to freak them out. They CAN handle animal people. We did come across a friendly crocodile. But they believe robots are corrupted."
"What?" snickered Oscar. "No. That's fictional."
"And that's how every inventor dies by creating an artificial intelligence who can access the internet." Shaård bit his lip, trying to appear sheepish. "And I don't think they would accept…murderers?"
"Melodramatic," commented Oscar.
Splaarghön thought about it. "I'm…not going to go with this idea, but after what I learnt from Spencer, what if we have the predator animals on our empire to go good?"
Oscar's smile fell. "Girl, that's a horrible idea. Do you remember what Professor Marmalade did?"
"Of course, but I concealed it better." She laughed to herself at that part. "It's called marketing. You need to get people's trust without forcing too much doom. And then easing them in knowing what they are working with. The same way as having domestic animals."
"Um, Splaarghön," pointed out Shaård. "It would be bad to try presenting the animal members as loyal pets."
Splaarghön huffed, adjusting her jacket collar. "Watch. Now, Oscar, pretend to be a dog."
Oscar blankly stared at her. "...but I'm a shark."
"PLEASE act like a dog. Like…licking or barking."
"Oooh, I'm good at that."
And he did the first suggestion.
Strangely, Splaarghön barely flinched when Oscar licked his bigger and wetter tongue onto her face. She stood there in triumph, hoping this made her point. Even if she was coated in saliva. She didn't seem to recognize the slimy saliva coating her face like a popsicle.
Meanwhile, Shaård scrunched his nose up in horror and disgust, the sight now ingrained in his brain.
[End of Song]
A dramatic thunderstrike occurred and all three were greeted by the bat-themed fox cyborg in a pose like he just landed from above.
"Hi there!" said Splaarghön casually. "What is it?"
"Overlord Dread Splaarghön and Underlord Shaård," reported the fox cyborg like he didn't see anything. "Forgive me for interrupting your questionable intimate moment with the Great White Shark."
An embarrassed Oscar realized what this meant and drew back his tongue. Thanks to his growing vulnerability, he covered his burning face with his hands, hoping not to be seen. Immediately, Shaård grabbed a couple of tissues and began wiping the confused Splaarghön's wet face.
"It's not what it looks like!" claimed Shaård nervously. "Don't read into this!"
"Our spies found the next Eden Apples," continued the fox cyborg. "But I must alert you that this wielder will sell them soon."
"And where is that at?" asked Splaarghön.
"It's at a black site outside the city. We have approximately three hours to retrieve it."
AN: I think we all know where this might go later on. :3
Yes, I did take some information from Wikipedia on the black snake fireworks. Rally came up with the idea of including black snakes, based on that one episode in South Park where a gigantic black snake nearly destroyed the United States. As an ambassador for the wackiness, I decided to include black snakes in. They'll appear again soon, mwah-ha-ha.
The gaming competition takes inspiration from When You Have an Online Nemesis by Nelson Boys and while it's unfortunately cut short, it's pretty funny since we all got these different gamers duking it out. There's even a reference to Flushed Away before Gumbo could get chomping on Baron's boys.
The scene where Shark explains his choice of being non-binary was inspired by Nimona. I even came to a friend of mine for advice since they are more close to understanding this concept. It took some research to understand the concept of the non-binary gender and how I could translate that well here. It's a really personal moment for him and it can even relate to anyone struggling with breaking out labels. I would appreciate feedback on this coming-out scene since it's a really important moment and I would like to know if I execute the themes appropriately.
What do you think of this chapter and the conversations? And how would you rate Gumbo's fighting skills? Let me know in your reviews. If you enjoy this story so far, be sure to favorite or follow. Constructive criticism is appreciated, but if any flames, then it's down the drain.
Until next time, keep on rocking!