Thunderfunk the Superchicken - Chapter 25

Advancement

“You abandoned me.” Straw Daq sat in his chair and sulked, bandages still wrapped around his head. “I waited in that lobby for five hours. FIVE HOURS!”

“I will have you know I was only four hours and forty-nine minutes late.”

Straw glared at his boss for a moment before returning to his sulk.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Thunderfunk the Superchicken tried to explain himself again. “See here young man, as I have already explained, I was unable to make our appointment as I was trapped in the house by our neighbour Mrs. Henderson.”

“For five hours? Excuse me, four hours and forty-nine minutes.” Straw did not sound mollified in the least.

“She is a very persistent woman.”

“There are at least four separate secret entrances and exits that you could have taken.”

Thunderfunk’s eyes widened. “Egads,” he said. “That’s right. I had completely forgotten about them.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Bah,” was all the reply that Thunderfunk felt was necessary. He walked away, angry at his protege’s insistence on blaming the entire mess on him. It was obvious to anyone that the fault lay with Mrs. Henderson and her infernal cat. That, and the fact that he did not enjoy driving cars. That was what he had servants, lackeys, flunkies, and even the occasional stoolie for. In all his years of super-villainery, Straw was the best pilot he had ever come across, and the most faithful. It would not do to have him angry and moody. Not if he was going to have his plans carried out.

Setting his jaw, Thunderfunk returned to where the young man sat, arms crossed, brow furrowed. “We have a mission,” he said cautiously. Straw continued to stare straight ahead, but his eyebrows raised ever so slightly. He was listening. “For this mission,” continued Thunder, “I will need you to fly the Harrier for me.”

Straw immediately brightened. “Really?” he asked enthusiastically, a smile breaking across his face. “You never want to use that thing. This is awesome.” He jumped to his feet and headed towards the hangar. “Where’re we going anyway?”

“To Breadbuuter’s house.”

Straw stopped dead. “You want me to fly the Harrier jet to Cornelius J Breadbuuter’s house?” He turned to look at his boss. “That’s it?”

“Yes.” Thunder was mystified by the young man’s response.

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Straw squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “He lives next door,” he said. “It will take me longer to get the plane ready than it would to walk over there, which, I might add, would do you a world of good. You figure hasn’t been remaining as trim as it once was.”

Thunder looked down at his waist then back at his pilot. “Listen ‘friend’” he began hotly. “I am in perfect condition. And besides, the jet gives off an impression of power and superiority. He doesn’t have one, so it makes me look good.” A haughty expression settled on his face as he raised his head ever so slightly and peered down his beak at Daq.

“Fine.” Straw continued to where the planes were stored, muttering about the price of jet fuel these days, and did anyone know how much cabbage cost and how late it would be before he could get to bed, basically sounding like an old man.

Thunderfunk shook his head. Did the young people of the world understand nothing about the proper use and presentation of power? There was still much that he had to teach his pilot. Much indeed.