>Chapter Thirteen : Tanks for the Memories > >"Let's go," Chip snapped out. He darted over to The Exterminator. CROW: What a tactician! "Let's go," -- brilliant! >"Monty," Gadget said, pulling a micro cassette out of the tape recorder. JOEL: [GADGET] I recorded it over the World Cup - hope that's okay. >"You better take this with you on the Ranger Wing." JOEL: [GADGET] So you won't have to listen to talk radio. >"Gotcha luv," Monty replied, taking it under one arm. "Ol' Monterey >won't be around to help, so you just be careful." JOEL: [GADGET] Yeah, the plan counts on -- I mean, I'm sorry you can't come along, but... >She smiled up at him as he rubbed her hair roughly. "I will, Monty. >Thanks." JOEL: [GADGET] But hands off. > >Zipper cleared his throat. TOM: [ZIPPER] Just reminding everyone I exist. CROW: Who's Zipper? > >"Rescue Rangers Away!" JOEL: That's really not an inspiring battle cry, is it? TOM: It used to be "Rescue Rangers Run Away", but they improved it. > >=== > >It had started life in the 1960s as a British toy TOM: "Started life as a toy"? > made of die cast >steel. Resembling a salt shaker, The Exterminator sported a rotating >hemispherical turret with an extended eyestalk, mounted on a base with >sharply sloped sides. A second appendage, a suction cup on a rod, was >even with a nozzle like projection on the front. No wheels were visible: >these were concealed in the wide, flaring steel skirt. TOM: Where's the Doctor? CROW: Who? TOM: Exactly. > It trundled out >from behind a garbage can and crossed the street, making for Fat Cat's >casino. JOEL: I call no way. Fat Cat's is on the roof of the building. TOM: [Sarcasm Sequencer] Ooh! You mean there are little inconsistencies between the Disney Afternoon and Nowak Angst Theater filmed in Depressovision? > >Herbie the rat frowned. The Boss had said to keep anyone from entering, >and that clearly included Daleks. JOEL: Herbie the Rat? TOM: Not from the series. Gadget will probably garrote him with her goggles. JOEL: Ow, that's dark. CROW: Meat boy catches on fast. >"Can't enter -" he began to say. CROW: These were to be his last words as a harpoon plunged into his chest, draining his heart's blood for Monty to use in a recipe. > >The suction dart fired, sticking to Herbie's chest. JOEL: Suction cups stick to fur? TOM: In the show, suction cups stick to everything. Nowak has seen it. Which means he has no excuse. > Herbie stumbled >backwards, but didn't go over. CROW: Then the drill bit began to spin- JOEL: Crow- CROW: [screaming] CROW WHAT? CROW WHAT, ROBINSON?! CROW CREATED TO READ CRAPPY FANFICS SO YOU DON'T GET LONELY?! CROW WHOSE LIFE PARALLELS THAT OF THE DENIZENS OF THE NOWAKVERSE?! FOR I, LIKE THEM, WAS BORN TO SUFFER! SUFFER! SUFFER! [CROW sobs.] JOEL: RAM chip? CROW: [suddenly happy] Thanks, buddy! [JOEL feeds CROW a RAM chip] Yum! TOM: Hey! Just because I'm more stoic -- JOEL: And for you, Tom? TOM: Thanks! [JOEL feeds TOM a RAM chip] > He snarled. He wasn't amused, and TOM: Neither are we. > he >didn't notice the thin wire leading from the back of the suction dart to >The Exterminator. CROW: Wouldn't a mouse want to avoid something called an Exterminator? JOEL: If they wanted to live. CROW: Say no more. > >He noticed the results. As every strand of fur stood away from his body, TOM: In disgust, >an unearthly bluish glow illuminated the entry to Fat Cat's. Being well >grounded, Herbie sparked in a most satisfying manner and drifted into a >dreamless sleep. JOEL: Nowak finally finds something light and amusing, and it's electrocution. CROW: Not surprising. >Inside The Exterminator, Chip threw a winch on, CROW: [annoyed] Now, that's just plain tasteless. JOEL: Winch, not wench. CROW: [disappointed] Oh. >retracting the dart and cocking the action. Electronic photo flash >capacitors whined, recharging from an alkaline battery. TOM: The batteries were rated at 3.0 volts- CROW: SHUT UP! > >Chip looked through the window all around The Exterminator, under the >turret. He nudged Herbie away TOM: I'm sorry guys, but a tank does not *nudge* someone away -- it grinds them into a pulp under it. > and crashed the party. > TOM: Scratch one future dentist. >=== > >The doors splintered and caved in, and The Exterminator rolled into the >dead silence. Though she was still balanced on his lapels, Widget and >Fat Cat watched as the unstoppable juggernaut moved slowly in, turret >flicking from side to side. TOM: [CHIP] Where to start? It all looks so good.... > One of Fat Cat's rats tossed a chair at it. >The furniture bounced harmlessly away, and the rat was soon covered with >a deluge of rubber cement from the nozzle on front. CROW: Covering his nose and mouth, suffocating him to death. > He fell over and >rolled, gathering other henchmen into a single pile, like some snowball >rolling downhill or a black hole gathering matter. JOEL: Ooh, what an accessible analogy. TOM: I never really thought of snowballs and black holes in the same category, myself. > >Fat Cat and Widget's eyes met. TOM: [singing] Across a crowded rooooom.... > >"Truce?" suggested Fat Cat. > >"Okay by me," agreed Widget. JOEL: [WIDGET] I'm sure I can trust you, after all.... > >"GET IT!" Fat Cat cried out, dumping Widget to the floor. > >"TAKE COVER!" yelled Jürgen, who had a better grasp of the situation. > >=== JOEL: Isn't that an operator in C++? TOM: Undocumented feature. It replaces non-Microsoft products in memory with ads for Explorer. > >The events which transpired within the next few minutes would go down in >history as JOEL: The Night That Dalek-looking Thing Crashed Fat Cat's Casino Party -- Literally. > the Battle of Casino. If half the rodents who claimed to have >been eyewitnesses had indeed been present, then a simple calculation >shows there would have been no room in Fat Cat's for the fight to take >place. TOM: If we let a = the floor area of the casino while a' is the area occupied by - CROW: Stop it. TOM: Math wuss. >Like a Monitor ironclad unleashed against a wooden fleet, JOEL: Nowak's analogies are about as easy to penetrate as sloped Chobham. TOM: Hoo-boy, you said it! CROW: I think. > The >Exterminator moved slowly about, invulnerable to thrown furniture, >spreading fear, panic, and a thick layer of glue. CROW: It was invulnerable to spreading fear, panic, and a thick layer of glue? JOEL: Given that it can only electrocute one rodent at a time, all you need is to have two of Fat Cat's henchmen attack from different angles and knock it over. TOM: We're talking about cats who go toe-to-toe with chipmunks and lose. JOEL: Never mind then. > A quick spray of WD40 CROW: Ooh, I love that stuff. TOM: Who doesn't? >under the skirting dissolved the rubber cement and prevented The >Exterminator from becoming a spider trapped in its own web. The sucker >dart / taser made quick work of any opponents large enough to pull free >of the sticky mass. The solid armor was invincible, even against the >impact of a one-pound hammer dropped from the ceiling. JOEL: Which Fat Cat had set up just in case this happened. TOM: If this thing is so invincible, how come the Rangers never used it before? CROW: They had to wait for that ground floor entrance to the casino to open up. > Soon, Fat Cat's >minions were immobilized by the cement, or shocked into unconsciousness. JOEL: Chip probably read them the bit where Widget accuses her father of abandoning her. >The Exterminator commanded a field of fire covering most of the room, >and the only opponents left were behind tables at the walls. It ruled >the dance floor. CROW: And it insisted on leading. > >By an odd coincidence, Fat Cat, Mr. Calvert, Jürgen, and Widget had >taken cover behind the same overturned table. Jürgen watched the melee JOEL: "Hopeless defense" would be more accurate. >and gave commentary, while Widget calmly groomed her ears and Fat Cat's >blood pressure skyrocketed. > >"Okay," Jürgen said. "That lizard has just been knocked out by the dart. >I think I saw his skeleton for a moment while the current was flowing. >The hedgehog has grabbed a table leg. I think he'll make it because the >dart isn't ready to be fired... wait, the panzer CROW: The pansey? > is going in reverse and >to the side and... " TOM: Aren't hedgehogs supposed to be real fast? > Jürgen's impassive narration was blocked by a loud >crash, "Yes, the hedgehog has tripped over the wire and has landed on a >roulette table, breaking it..." JOEL: Think it's Sonic? TOM: Could be. He always gets stupid and worthless in fanfics. CROW: Hey, the main original character has an artificial left arm. Wasn't there some other fanfic character with... [CROW trails off.] [JOEL & the BOTS look at one another nervously.] ALL: AAAAUGH! > >Behind another table, two crewmen had found a mop. One put the mop on >his head, batted his eyes, and blew kisses at Mr. Calvert. The other >pointed and laughed. Mr. Calvert realized he would never live this down. CROW: The answer? Kill them all. TOM: Given that Mr. Calvert's an officer, I would think those crewmen would behave a little more.... > >"So what are you hiding for?" Fat Cat hissed. > >"I'm not hiding," Mr. Calvert said, stunned into a defense. "I am in a >position of defilade." TOM: My God, he used it right! > >It was becoming clear that Fat Cat's few remaining minions longed to be >in defilade as well. > >"You said truce, not alliance," Widget said mildly. "It's not my >casino." > >Fat Cat ground his teeth. JOEL: Like they weren't sharp enough. > >"Shutting off the elevator was a good move," Jürgen remarked. "It's >restricted to this level, at least. CROW: Until they get seven Chaos Emeralds and save up fifty Power Rings. > They'll have to leave the vehicle >behind to go up the stairs to rescue their friend, but then again, there >won't be anyone on your side left to exploit the advantage, except for >the porcupine upstairs." > >"You need reinforcements," Widget said with a smile. > >"What. Do. You. Want?" Fat Cat hissed, slowly. TOM: And thus, a solid friendship was born. > >"One of the Rangers," Widget said immediately. > >"We can offer a swap and then kill 'em both," Fat Cat suggested. > >"I don't want to lie to them," Widget shook her head. CROW: [WIDGET] I may be trying to crush my sister's spirit, but I'm not *mean*. > >"Oh, you're Byronic?" asked Fat Cat, mildly disappointed. "Well, >destroying one of the Rangers is a step in the right direction, and the >one I caught is the most expendable to them... so yes, I agree. CROW: I agree too. Dale's a loser. TOM: No argument. > What's >your plan?" > >"Lever it over with table legs?" Widget suggested to Jürgen. > >Jürgen frowned. "Tricky and risky... but I think it'll work." JOEL: [JÜRGEN] Get out there and try it, Mister Calvert. > >"Begging your pardon, ma'am," Mr. Calvert coughed. "I took the liberty >of sending Mr. Fenton for three Recoilless teams when you jumped on the >cat." > >Jürgen and Widget smiled at him. TOM: When I think of people smiling in this universe, I see the friendly grin of a skull. CROW: Yep. JOEL: I will from now on, Tom. > "Well done, Mr. Calvert." Mr. Calvert >realized he probably would live down the incident earlier in the >evening. Six mice from Albacore trotted in through the front door: three >carried .22 Darned Nearly Recoilless Rifles; three carried backpacks of >.22 rimfire. They split up to find cover. CROW: [WAITRESS] I'm not letting you in until you pay the cover charge. Oh, and there's a two-drink minimum. > >"It's steel. Too much risk of ricochet," Widget decided. "We need to get >it outside." CROW: [WIDGET] Metal's softer outside, you know. > >A small, pathetic drip of glue dribbled out of the nozzle. CROW: Eww! > >"Golly, Chip," came Gadget's voice from The Exterminator. "We're out of >glue!" TOM: [GADGET] And I better tell our enemies! > >Widget perked up. "My sister's in there," she cried out. > >Uh-oh, thought Fat Cat. Scratch one alliance. CROW: Ha ha! Uh... cat, scratch... kill me. > >"You're right, Gadget," yelled Chip. "We had best beat an ignominious >retreat!" TOM: [FAT CAT] Hmmm. Rescue Rodents retreating. That's not suspicious.... > >Widget's ears flattened, and she threw a fist into the air. In a deep, >throaty voice she cried out: TOM: [WIDGET] Check, please! CROW: Hey, she likes this stuff, doesn't she? > >"FIRE!!" JOEL: And was trampled to death by the panicked crowd. The end. > >To Fat Cat, the triple reports of three rifle rounds and the screaming >vwipp they made as they ricocheted about his casino shattering >everything that wasn't already broken were merely dull, anticlimactic >echoes to the fire and feral rapacity of the figure who unleashed them. TOM: Joel, my parser just blew. JOEL: Widget's nasty, and that excites Fat Cat. TOM: Ugh. >He was almost unaware of the damage to his walls as he stared at the >berserk and furious form of the Gray Mouse. > >"Could this be ... love?" he murmured aloud. CROW: I believe this is the first Rescue Ranger fanfic where a female character gets more passes than Gadget. TOM: Could be. JOEL: Call Guiness -- this is the first male Ranger fan to show no overt obsession for landing Gadget! > >One of the shots missed The Exterminator entirely. The other two >careened off the die cast steel. TOM: The Rangers are using tanks. Mice are packing heat. If Wolf shows up, I will build myself tear ducts for the sole purpose of weeping in response. > Most of their energy canceled out, but >there was enough left that the impact lifted the vehicle and spun it >around, ironically pointing at the trashed front door. TOM: In a phenomenon called "spalling," slivers of metal were knocked off the inside of the armor, shredding Chip and Gadget. Their blood mingled in the lover's embrace denied them in life - > >The Exterminator wobbled for a moment, as Chip recovered from the >incredible noise. Neither bullet was able to penetrate, but paint had >been stripped away and two deep dents added to the casing. CROW: So much for the resale value. > Chip put the >pedal to the metal and drove to the exit. Definitely, he had outworn his >welcome. JOEL: When the hosts start shooting at you, it's a clue. > >The Recoilless teams were reloading as fast as they could, but The >Exterminator was already out the door. Determined, Widget leapt from >cover and went after it. Jürgen muttered a curse JOEL: [JÜRGEN] Mephistopheles and Beelzebub, I conjure and abjure thee, to - > and went after her. > >The Exterminator was halfway across the street by the time he got out. TOM: For those playing along at home, we would like to repeat this means Fat Cat's casino must have an exit at street level. >She was standing on the curb, watching it with a determined expression. JOEL: [WIDGET] Darned curb.... >A Recoilless team was at Jürgen's heels. The shooter dropped to one >knee. > >"Give it here," Widget ordered, holding her hand down without looking. JOEL: So he handed her his knee. BOTS: Ew! CROW: Cool! >She took the weapon onto her shoulder, went to one knee, and aimed for a >long time. These won't penetrate the armor, she thought. Maybe... TOM: [WIDGET] It will bounce back at me and end this fanfic! It's worth the risk. > >She fired. The round bounced off The Exterminator's turret and went off >into the night. JOEL: To where? Who cares! TOM: Police were called to investigate gunfire. They found an armed mouse, who refused to squeak without an attorney.... > The Exterminator flipped over, base towards them. > >She let herself smile and handed the weapon back. "Hit it high to knock >it over," she said. "You need a long lever arm to generate torque." JOEL: Thank you for the dynamics lesson, Nowak. TOM: It's part of his special magic. CROW: It makes me want to hurl. TOM: See? > >The hamster nodded, impressed, holding it steady as the Gray Mouse >darted off and his loader went to work. JOEL: [WIDGET] Even though I'm unarmed I'm going to run off to confront Chip and Gadget. Bye! > >"What's torque?" he asked. CROW: The word describes how the fanfic makes me feel. > >"The blonde guy in The Monkees," his loader explained. JOEL: And they never played their instruments. CROW: No way! TOM: Yes, way! > >"I'll never understand engineering," he sighed. TOM: Then what the hell are you doing in this story?! > >Chip pulled CROW: His finger! [TOM makes an appropriate sound effect.] > the ejection lanyard. > >A B6-2 rocket engine will lift a chipmunk 300 feet into the air. JOEL: You guys think Nowak tried it? [BOTS make "ouch" sounds.] >However, as Chip realized as ejection seat started to fire, it needs to >be in an upright position. TOM: Yup, just a little late with that realization, there. JOEL: Note to self - do not fire a rocket engine when it will boost me into concrete. > Chip's ejection seat skidded across the >street, striking sparks, as Chip went ouchieouchieouchie. Then it hit >the sloped part of the far curb, which sent him up into the night sky. CROW: Most of him, anyway. > >Chip's ejection seat reached apogee. A parachute popped out -- only to >be snagged by a hook let out the back of the swooping Ranger Wing. CROW: Are we expected to believe he survived? JOEL: This isn't dark enough for you? CROW: I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking.... > The >two loaded Recoilless teams fired at the plane, CROW: They're loaded. They're armed, drunk, and shooting into the air. JOEL: Typical Saturday night in Manhattan. > one hitting the left >wing. "Load bird shot," TOM: Wait a moment. If they had .22 bird shot, why didn't Widget use it to shoot at Gadget? JOEL: Because then Widget would have killed her. TOM: Oh. Huh? > Widget called out before running around to the >other side of The Exterminator. > >"She's not in the chair," Jürgen said. In horror, he looked at the >toppled toy. Widget was peering through the top. CROW: [JÜRGEN] You don't suppose - we *hurt* your sister or something? > >"I don't see her. Perhaps her body has been rendered charred and >unrecognizable," she said hopefully. JOEL: See guys? Even Nowak adds a touch of hope to his - TOM: Shut up. > >Jürgen walked around behind her. Leaning past her, he pressed the Play >button on a memo recorder. TOM: Miraculously undamaged by the exhaust of a B6-2 rocket engine. > >"Golly, Chip," came Gadget's voice. "We're out of glue!" > >Widget looked slowly up at Jürgen. JOEL: [WIDGET] Oh, poopie. > >"We caught one," Jürgen said, counting on his fingers. "One in the >panzer. One, at least, to fly the plane." > >"--Leaving two to rescue their friend," Widget finished. They looked >back at the casino. CROW: I'm missing somebody. Dale, Chip, Monty, Gadget.... JOEL: Zipper. CROW: Who? > >"We've been Rommelled," Widget concluded. CROW: Is that a verb? TOM: Not since 1945. Speaking of time.... JOEL: Guys, I've got an idea for a fun project. CROW: Oh, goodie.... [1 ... 2 ... 3 ... 4 ... 5 ... 6 ... SoL] [JOEL and the three bots stand in the SoL main deck. GYPSY wears a wind breaker, while TOM has a picture next to them, laying face down on the table, and CROW stands next to a TV turned to face the audience.] JOEL: Hi, everybody. My idea for a new fun project is based on the realization that Zipper is under-utilized. So I had my bots come up with ideas to make Zipper more interesting. Tom? TOM: Thanks, Joel. Even people involved in writing the original series will admit that being mute and with no discernible personality quirks, Zipper was soon relegated to doing little more than hovering around and buzzing. But I realized that Nowak's comments about the size of a mouse litter applies even more so to flies. So I came up with... [JOEL tips up the picture, revealing an evil-looking, black-clad fly that looks similar to Zipper] Velcro, Zipper's thoroughly evil twin, who joins Fat Cat. JOEL: Neat, Tom. And what does Velcro do for Fat Cat? TOM: Well, he mostly just hovers around and buzzes. JOEL: Oh.... TOM: But he does so evilly! JOEL: [Uncertainly] Well, that's good, Tom. [CROW rolls his eyes in disgust.] JOEL: And what do you have, Crow? CROW: Well, like Tom, I also took inspiration from the overall soul-destroying tone of this fanfic, and from another cartoon which has had a bit more success with a mute character. I put together a video pastiche. [The TV turns on. We start with a scene from "Tale Spin," which shows a fly flying over the water, where he gets eaten by a fish. Then we have CHIP looking terrified - perhaps from "Ghost of a Chance". His voice has been redubbed.] CHIP: Oh my God, they killed Zipper! [Cut to a scene with Gadget furious - "Dirty Rotten Diapers"?] GADGET: YOU... BASTARD! CROW: Cool, huh? [Long, awkward pause.] JOEL: Okay... Gypsy! What did you come up with? GYPSY: Oh! Well, I came up with something similar to the sounds encoded onto plastic strips on greeting cards a few years ago. When you zip my jacket up, it makes a sound! It makes zippers more interesting. [JOEL dubiously zips up GYPSY'S jacket. We hear MAGIC VOICE's voice, distorted but coherent.] MAGIC VOICE: It's cold! TOM: Uh... neat. But... JOEL: What Tom means is that the assignment was to think of something to make the cartoon character Zipper more interesting. GYPSY: [blankly, as usual] Who's Zipper? [Awkward pause. Commercial sign.]