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The Beginning of the End
“How are the preparations coming?” Thunderfunk paced the control room nervously.
Lights flashed a rainbow of colour across Straw Daq’s face as the clicking of various buttons being pushed flooded the room. His hands were a blur as has flipped switches and turned dials. Sweat ran down his face, falling to splash on the rubberized tile. “Things are going well,” he said tersely.
“Excellent.” Thunder wrung his hands. “Are the lasers in place?”
“Yes. And I calibrated them myself.”
“Good. What about the incendiary devices?”
“Placed at the best strategic locations.”
“Grenade launchers?”
“Loaded and armed.” Straw wiped his brow with a damp sock.
“Mortar rounds?”
“Prepped.”
“Missiles?”
“Coordinates loaded and warheads armed.”
“Squirrel gun?”
“Ready.”
“Clown?”
“Just putting on his make up. We had an issue with the wig, but we think it has been handled.”
“Good. We certainly do not want a repeat of Grenada.”
Straw shuddered at the memory.
“Vacuum?”
“Bag emptied, ready to go.”
“Screwdriver?”
“I’ve gone with a Robertson this time. Seemed apropos given the circumstances.”
“A fine choice.” Thunder sat down, closing his eyes for a moment before leaping to his feet. “Spaghetti?”
“Al dente.”
“Soap?”
“Nice and sudsy.”
“Turtles?”
“Shells are waxed and buffed. One wasn’t feeling in a bitey mood, but I reminded him that he was contractually obligated.”
“It was Louie, wasn’t it.” Thunder rubbed the spot at the bridge of his beak that always seemed to calm him down. “I never should have hired him.”
“Don’t worry, it will be okay.”
“Okay. Did you get the ping pong balls?”
Straw grimaced and breathed in through a clenched mouth. “The store was sold out. All they had left was hockey pucks, and not very many of those.”
“It will have to do.” The two looked at each other for a long moment. “It is time, isn’t it.”
Straw nodded.
“Very well.” Thunder tugged on his tuxedo jacket and straightened his bow tie. “Then make the call.”
CAZ
“Would you like a drink, sir?” asked the aide. He grabbed a series of bottles, deftly pouring and mixing a cocktail of some sort. “Wha..oh, yes. Of course.” The general scrawled his signature at the bottom of a page. As he accepted the drink, he sat back, rubbing his neck. “That’s good,” he complimented his aide. “Only the best for you, sir,” came the smooth reply. I was surprised at how casual this aide was with such an important man. Judging from the plethora of stars and stripes on the general’s uniform, he must have been the highest man in the army. “Have we received any reports back from the field?” The general tipped his glass up, finishing the entire drink. “Everything is proceeding as planned,” replied the aide. He quickly prepared a new drink. “I’m still not comfortable with this,” said the general, accepting the new drink. A sour expression flitted across the aide’s face, but it was gone before the general could notice. “I understand, General Toshi, but you saw how restless the workers were getting. We needed something to stop any chance of them organising or revolting. We need them under control and faking some alien attacks was enough to get them scared and clamouring for our help and control. Plus, revealing this information to the public will unite them and make them think that they need us to protect them as well. Everyone is under our control now.” The general leaned back, holding out an empty glass. “I guess so,” he said reluctantly. “I am curious how you managed to set up the fake attacks so quickly.” The aide smiled his oily smile. “It is amazing what bureaucracy can accomplish when the goal is its own gain.” I pulled back from the window, staring at nothing for a long time. “We have to reveal the truth,” I whispered. I glanced over at Spin whose shoulders visibly slumped. “Why did I know you were going to say that?” he lamented.
Almost There
The next few days were busy for the evil supergenius. Straw Daq watched as his employer descended into madness. Actually, Thunderfunk the Superchicken had been mad from the day he hatched. “He came out half scrambled”, his father was fond of saying. But Straw worried nonetheless. He had never seen Thunder so focussed before. There were several easy opportunities for megalomania that he ignored. He even, in his distraction, said hello to Mrs. Henderson without cursing or sighing. All he wanted to do was attack Breadbuuter. One attempt after another failed. They drove a tank at his gates, only to be met with a barrage of anti-tank weaponry, such as a giant lizard foot falling from the sky to crush it. They tried to fly a helicopter over his house, but a laser guided laser sliced the rotors clean off and a humongous mallet smacked the falling helicopter far away. They tunnelled towards his land, only to accidentally hit the lava crocodile pit. Not much gets the heart pumping like being chased through a tunnel by a lava crocodile. As well as lava. The lowest of the low moments came when they dressed in girl guide uniforms and tried to sell cookies at the front gate. Finally, after two weeks of failure, Thunder sat on his red leather chair, one arm in bandages, a bald spot in his feathers where the stiches had gone in. He slowly raised his head, meeting his protege’s eyes with an icy gaze. “It’s time,” he said. “Prepare the device.”
SPIN
I couldn’t see her face, but I could tell from how her shoulders slumped that Caz was relieved about something. “What’s up?” I asked as we strolled around the side of the building. When we were hidden in the shadows, she removed her helmet. “Didn’t you recongise that guy?” she hissed. I glanced around but couldn’t see him anymore, so I shrugged. “That was the general’s aide.” “Which general?” “The one that captured me when we first got back.” She wiped her brow and then put her helmet back on. “Oh right. The guy I smacked in the face. Hey, if his aide is here, do you think the general would be too?” Her helmet bobbed up and down in the dim light. We slunk over to a nearby window and peered inside. The general was sitting at a desk, reading over some papers. He glanced towards us, revealing the remnants of a nasty bruise around his eye and cheek, a bruise that closely resembled the butt end of the gun I had hit him with. The door behind him opened and the aide returned, flicking a cigarette butt into the night. As they began to talk, I couldn’t help but wonder if the fear that had seemed to flash across the general’s face was real, or just a trick of the light.
Attempt Number One
Applying black face paint over feathers was harder than it looked, but it was an essential part of late night skullduggery, largely because Thunderfunk was a white chicken with a white head, so he was highly visible, even at night. He finished the last touches, smearing the greasy paint on his neck feathers. “There, how do I look?” he asked Straw. “Too much mascara,” replied the young man without looking up. He had been ready for an hour, but it was always much easier for him. “Can we go now?” he whined. “Yes, the time for us to depart has arrived,” said Thunder. They slunk out of their secret lair, moving silently through the inky blackness, grateful for the lack of a moon. Soon they had reached their destination. “This part of his fence is always neglected,” whispered Thunder, reaching forward to grasp the metal wire. Straw looked around. “I smell barbecue,” he said, puzzled. “Who in the world would be barbecuing this late at night?” “Hnng!” replied Thunder, his entire body stiff, smoke curling from under his black toque. “Oh,” said Straw. He grabbed a stick and knocked Thunder’s hand off of the fence. The giant chicken slumped to the ground, babbling incoherently. “I took the liberty of rewiring the fence for electricity,” came Breadbuuter’s voice over a hidden speaker. “Did you like it?” “Hrrg!” replied Thunder sullenly. He rose to his feet shakily and tottered off, limping visibly. Straw looked around, unsure of the protocol. “Sorry to have bothered you,” he finally said before running into the darkness. He bounced off of the fence with a loud zap. Rising to his feet, he glanced around. Patting his head until the flames went out, turned and followed Thunder into the darkness.
CAZ
It was absurdly easy to break into the base. The M.E.R.C. troops were well trained, but not overly observant, and having two extra soldiers wasn’t noticed by anyone. As soon as we were inside the base, we snuck away from the soldiers. The darkness provided many shadows in which to hide. I had never been here before, but the basic layout of the bases was pretty standard.
We paused at the corner of a building. “There’s no cover here,” I whispered. “We need to get to that building over there.”
“Let me guess,” came Spin’s reply. “We are going to casually walk across the open space and hope no one stops us.”
“You have a better idea?”
“Sadly, no.”
I knew the best way to get away with any deception, and that was to act like you belonged. So I strode with confidence as though I had done this many times before and knew exactly where I was going. By the time we reached the other building, my heart was pounding so hard it almost hurt. But we had made it.
Just then, the door opened and out stepped a man, an unlit cigarette dangling from him mouth. “Do you have a light, soldier?” he asked.
“No sir,” replied Spin, patting his pockets as though looking for matches or a lighter.
“That’s okay,” replied the highly decorated officer as he wandered away.
I was glad that Spin had answered because my heart had crawled into my throat and cowered in fear. Coming face to face with the general’s aide had almost been more than I could take.
Set Up
“Come face me you coward!” Thunder raised his fist to the security camera, shaking vigorously. The small tv set in the wall of the guard room sprang to life. “Oh, I think not, my dear colleague.” Breadbuuter’s large face filled the screen. “We have said all we have to say to each other.” “We had an agreement...a gentleman’s accord. How dare you violate it?” Spittle flew from Thunder’s beak. “Hah!” Breadbuuter threw his head back, flailing his arms to catch his balance. “That agreement was not worth the paper it was printed on. This is not a game, good sir. And I would thank you to leave my premises before I release the hounds.” “You don’t have hounds.” “True. I do have an angry, trained hummingbird though.” Thunder’s eyes went wide. “All right, I shall leave. But I’ll return. And when I do, only one of us will emerge alive!” As he turned to go, a man in a guard’s uniform flew through the air. “He had better not be late on Monday,” muttered Thunder as he stalked away.
