Princess Violet
11-30-2011, 10:48 PM
Chapter 6
Ron had fallen asleep at the Ron's Pizza in Toontown Central - again. He was hungover by the non-alcoholic not-really-soda soda and fake cheese - which may or may not contain alcohol. I have no idea what it's made of, but Ron seems to have an endless supply. He got up, drunk on fake cheese, and walked to the giant sink. He filled it up with clean water (a surprise) and grabbed a soap bar. He jumped in and took a bath fully clothed and washed his arms and legs and face; especially his face. When he got out he changed in the back into his usual outfit - he had 8,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 copies of the same outfit and rarely does laundry - and pulled on a bib that said "Eat FAKE CHEESE like a King". Originally it only said "Eat like a King" but Ron added the "FAKE CHEESE" with a permanent marker, writing it over the rest and putting an arrow between "Eat" and "like" pointing to "FAKE CHEESE". He pulled together a large meal of fake cheese, not-really-soda soda, cheese milk, fake cheese pizza, and a few slices of real cheese pizza. Before he did, he ate a small piece of real cheese - Gouda - and ate it saying, "It's good-a to eat Gouda!" because the Gouda would reduce his drunk-ness dramatically and help him hold it out until after the meal. Sitting down at one of his tables, he looked on hungrily at the pile - with big eyes and dripping slobber - and dug in.
I ran up to Flippy in The Brrrgh, where he was busy fishing for Frozen Fish for a recipe I promised I would bake him if he caught 8 for me. We showed him the document. "AROOO! OH NO!!!" he cried. "ANOTHER TOON! OOO! NO!!!" Flippy screamed, spazzing. Scared toons stared at him. Some slowly backed away while others ran, silent. "AROOO! AROOO!!!" He screamed, jumping up and down and overall being a nut-job. He jumped onto roofs, off onto the snow, spraying it everywhere and covering me and Matt. "FLIPPY." I said loudly and solidly. "WHAT. ARE. YOU. SCREAMING. AND. SPAZZING. ABOUT?" I asked through gritted teeth. Flippy gulped. "W- well," he stammered, "T- this doesn't h- happen every day." "NO DUH IT DON'T!" I yelled. "What do we do?!"
Ron sat in his shop, eating his heart out. Pizza, fake cheese, and not-really-soda soda. Gulp, gulp, gulp, chew, chew, slurp, slurp, nom, nom, nom, slurrrp. The disgusting sounds radiated through his empty shop. Fake cheese was piled in front of him, him forcing it down his throat hungrily. "I wonder what Flippy is doing." he mumbled, chewing on the fake cheese. He sat at a table in his shop, His cheeks were full of fake cheese and sour pizza dough, his whiskers and chin dripping with not-really-soda soda. A thick layer of grease covered his lips and face, along with the top of his ears. Grease hung in the air, making it quite thick. Finally he finished. "Ahh, deliciousness." he said. A few minutes later he burst into the bathroom and stayed in for an hour - a usual reaction to the not-really-soda soda. He walked out, covered in toilet paper. He went to the sink and washed his fur, because last time Flippy nearly chopped his head off because it was so greasy. "GROSS! WASH IT OFF BEFORE I CUT YOUR HEAD OFF!" Flippy had yelled. Ron quickly washed off and was about to go write a poem about fake cheese when a toon ran in. "Ron," he said, panting, "Flippy needs you for - something important."
"Ok, now. Team A goes in this door, Team B goes in here, and Team C enters here after they hear the first screams of sellbots. Now, when teams A and B enter, they will come from either side," I pointed to the map, "And will attack the VP where the cog meeting is occurring and where they are holding this non-shopkeeper toon. Team X will come down from the ceiling here," I pointed at the map again, "remove the toon, and get out of there. Me and Matt from Team X will jump down to fight while the others get the toon out of there for further examination." Flippy had collected numerous toons to capture this toon, and now 4 teams of 8 stood before me. I explained it as we sat in a shadowed area of the pit in Sellbot HQ courtyard. "Okay now," I said, putting my hand in the middle of the circle, "GO TEAMS!" We all screamed after putting our hands in and thrust-ed them into the air. Team A, led by Flippy, entered on the east side while Team B, led by Ron, entered on the west side. Team X, led by me and Matt, scaled the wall as we tried to get up to the top. Halfway there, we heard a cog yell out and saw Team C, led by somebody from the toon council. We entered the roof after a while to see TOTAL CHAOS. So funny. The team lowered me, the lightest, most flexible person on the team (also the only person who was previously a spy) down to the cage. I was on top, about to release the person, when a cog spotted me.
"AHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" I screamed as the cage flew down the main hall. A cog had pulled a cord, sending the cage down a zip-line that would lead it to a cog jail center. Quickly thinking, I pulled the toon out, a small blue bunny, and jumped. Time stopped. The small bunny, only a baby, held onto me for dear life. The sound had stopped, at least to me. Really it was still loud as ever. Matt gasped. I hit the ground, feeling pain radiate up from my feet. One of the cogs threw a medical needle, which shot into my arm and stayed there. I ran numbly outside, while about fifty gazillion cogs came after me. I, after all, had stolen their baby... toon. I stumbled down the pit, grabbed the plans, and ran for Daisy Gardens with Matt on my heels more then the cogs, who continued through the gate. I held the bunny closer, wrapping it with both of my arms, and felt myself speeding up. My instincts overruled my thinking. Enemies. Run. Escape. I resisted the urge to fight. I couldn't feel anything but pain under my waist. Pain and numbness, which you technically can't feel. When I finally stumbled into Daisy Gardens and only Matt followed me in, I collapsed to the ground. I put the bunny down on my stomach and began breathing hard. Darkness clouded my vision, either from the pain or the shot. I saw Matt call 9-1-1 and scream hysterically into the phone before I blacked out.
*Ron is owned and created by The Monkey Man. I do NOT own him.
Ron had fallen asleep at the Ron's Pizza in Toontown Central - again. He was hungover by the non-alcoholic not-really-soda soda and fake cheese - which may or may not contain alcohol. I have no idea what it's made of, but Ron seems to have an endless supply. He got up, drunk on fake cheese, and walked to the giant sink. He filled it up with clean water (a surprise) and grabbed a soap bar. He jumped in and took a bath fully clothed and washed his arms and legs and face; especially his face. When he got out he changed in the back into his usual outfit - he had 8,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 copies of the same outfit and rarely does laundry - and pulled on a bib that said "Eat FAKE CHEESE like a King". Originally it only said "Eat like a King" but Ron added the "FAKE CHEESE" with a permanent marker, writing it over the rest and putting an arrow between "Eat" and "like" pointing to "FAKE CHEESE". He pulled together a large meal of fake cheese, not-really-soda soda, cheese milk, fake cheese pizza, and a few slices of real cheese pizza. Before he did, he ate a small piece of real cheese - Gouda - and ate it saying, "It's good-a to eat Gouda!" because the Gouda would reduce his drunk-ness dramatically and help him hold it out until after the meal. Sitting down at one of his tables, he looked on hungrily at the pile - with big eyes and dripping slobber - and dug in.
I ran up to Flippy in The Brrrgh, where he was busy fishing for Frozen Fish for a recipe I promised I would bake him if he caught 8 for me. We showed him the document. "AROOO! OH NO!!!" he cried. "ANOTHER TOON! OOO! NO!!!" Flippy screamed, spazzing. Scared toons stared at him. Some slowly backed away while others ran, silent. "AROOO! AROOO!!!" He screamed, jumping up and down and overall being a nut-job. He jumped onto roofs, off onto the snow, spraying it everywhere and covering me and Matt. "FLIPPY." I said loudly and solidly. "WHAT. ARE. YOU. SCREAMING. AND. SPAZZING. ABOUT?" I asked through gritted teeth. Flippy gulped. "W- well," he stammered, "T- this doesn't h- happen every day." "NO DUH IT DON'T!" I yelled. "What do we do?!"
Ron sat in his shop, eating his heart out. Pizza, fake cheese, and not-really-soda soda. Gulp, gulp, gulp, chew, chew, slurp, slurp, nom, nom, nom, slurrrp. The disgusting sounds radiated through his empty shop. Fake cheese was piled in front of him, him forcing it down his throat hungrily. "I wonder what Flippy is doing." he mumbled, chewing on the fake cheese. He sat at a table in his shop, His cheeks were full of fake cheese and sour pizza dough, his whiskers and chin dripping with not-really-soda soda. A thick layer of grease covered his lips and face, along with the top of his ears. Grease hung in the air, making it quite thick. Finally he finished. "Ahh, deliciousness." he said. A few minutes later he burst into the bathroom and stayed in for an hour - a usual reaction to the not-really-soda soda. He walked out, covered in toilet paper. He went to the sink and washed his fur, because last time Flippy nearly chopped his head off because it was so greasy. "GROSS! WASH IT OFF BEFORE I CUT YOUR HEAD OFF!" Flippy had yelled. Ron quickly washed off and was about to go write a poem about fake cheese when a toon ran in. "Ron," he said, panting, "Flippy needs you for - something important."
"Ok, now. Team A goes in this door, Team B goes in here, and Team C enters here after they hear the first screams of sellbots. Now, when teams A and B enter, they will come from either side," I pointed to the map, "And will attack the VP where the cog meeting is occurring and where they are holding this non-shopkeeper toon. Team X will come down from the ceiling here," I pointed at the map again, "remove the toon, and get out of there. Me and Matt from Team X will jump down to fight while the others get the toon out of there for further examination." Flippy had collected numerous toons to capture this toon, and now 4 teams of 8 stood before me. I explained it as we sat in a shadowed area of the pit in Sellbot HQ courtyard. "Okay now," I said, putting my hand in the middle of the circle, "GO TEAMS!" We all screamed after putting our hands in and thrust-ed them into the air. Team A, led by Flippy, entered on the east side while Team B, led by Ron, entered on the west side. Team X, led by me and Matt, scaled the wall as we tried to get up to the top. Halfway there, we heard a cog yell out and saw Team C, led by somebody from the toon council. We entered the roof after a while to see TOTAL CHAOS. So funny. The team lowered me, the lightest, most flexible person on the team (also the only person who was previously a spy) down to the cage. I was on top, about to release the person, when a cog spotted me.
"AHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" I screamed as the cage flew down the main hall. A cog had pulled a cord, sending the cage down a zip-line that would lead it to a cog jail center. Quickly thinking, I pulled the toon out, a small blue bunny, and jumped. Time stopped. The small bunny, only a baby, held onto me for dear life. The sound had stopped, at least to me. Really it was still loud as ever. Matt gasped. I hit the ground, feeling pain radiate up from my feet. One of the cogs threw a medical needle, which shot into my arm and stayed there. I ran numbly outside, while about fifty gazillion cogs came after me. I, after all, had stolen their baby... toon. I stumbled down the pit, grabbed the plans, and ran for Daisy Gardens with Matt on my heels more then the cogs, who continued through the gate. I held the bunny closer, wrapping it with both of my arms, and felt myself speeding up. My instincts overruled my thinking. Enemies. Run. Escape. I resisted the urge to fight. I couldn't feel anything but pain under my waist. Pain and numbness, which you technically can't feel. When I finally stumbled into Daisy Gardens and only Matt followed me in, I collapsed to the ground. I put the bunny down on my stomach and began breathing hard. Darkness clouded my vision, either from the pain or the shot. I saw Matt call 9-1-1 and scream hysterically into the phone before I blacked out.
*Ron is owned and created by The Monkey Man. I do NOT own him.