This is the third story I wrote in my sequence – much lighter reading than the two before it, except I must issue a warning here: DANGER! Large words ahead! And I’m going to have to admit that I am pretty proud of this story, though for no discernible reason. Like my other submissions, the original was written when I was 15, begun 6/23/97 and finished 6/25/97.
VERY IMPORTANT – there are some characters in this that need to be explained before you begin! The first is Jason Whiskers, an Enforcer who is Felina Feral’s “love interest” (although we all know how she feels about love). He plays a part in most all the stories, but I pledge to you this: he will NEVER, EVER, EVER be the hero over the SWAT Kats. That is against my creed! Also in this fanfic is a pilot named Scotty, who debuted with Jason in the first installment. He won’t take the credit either. We all know that “pulling Ferals” is a lame thing to do.
The main criticism of this has been that the words are too ornate. Feel free to complain to me if you share this sentiment. And if it makes no sense, tell me that, too.
I guess all that’s left to say is the disclaimer: the SWAT Kats and others from the TV show are not mine but I’m going to use them anyway, so kiss my rear, tED tURNER! (I hope he reads that and gets an aneurysm, the jerk.)
Okay, on with the tale! (And please e-mail me w/ questions and comments, that is, if you would… please?)
SWAT Kats in:
Friday Night Special
by Barb Mooney
(original ded. to Liz Mooney)
(revision ded. to Kris and Chris – two very “kewl” friends!) Part I. A little introduction.
Fridays are special days in MegaKat City. Every other Friday is pay day; Fridays mark the end of the long and tedious workweek; Friday nights are party nights at Glitter’s MegaKat City Discotheque.
Chance Furlong and Jake Clawson loved Fridays back when they were Enforcers. They used to hold “I Hate Commander Feral Club” meetings at 6 p.m., then go out partying ’til Saturday Morning. But now, things were different. They couldn’t host any more club meetings, for fear of exposing themselves as the SWAT Kats. And, as the ever-ready heroes of the city, partying and getting sloshed was decidedly NOT an option.
To compensate for their loss of social lives, Chance and Jake came up with the SWAT Kat Friday night special training routine. It was a grueling workout, which often left them very tired in the morning. Their solution? Make the workout harder. (So? They’re heroes, not rocket scientists… oh, wait, they are.)
This Friday night was to be no exception. They set up the initial obstacle course, the intensive training room, the reflex room. They strapped on their SWAT Kats gear. Lastly, they adjusted the SWAT Kat alarm to go directly to their glove-a-trixes. And then, they started their routine.
This Friday was special, down at MegaKat Hazardous Weapons and Biological Warfare Development Co., Enforcer division. The engineers, technicians, and assorted scientists therein had created a new, mutant/monster/supervillain hide piercing gun. This was no ordinary weapon. It was a handgun, small enough to fit in the fifth pocket of a pair of Levi’s. A baby kitten could lift it. It was made of non-metallic materials, and therefore undetectable by conventional means. Plus, it was to be issued to all Enforcers, pending Commander Feral and Mayor Manx’s approval.
Commander Feral loved to ruin other kat’s Fridays. He brought two helicopters in addition to his own to the meeting at the MKHWBWD co. He also made sure that along with Mayor Manx came Deputy Mayor Callie Briggs. The two of them got to ride in his chopper, so he could act macho and tough and maybe get a raise.
It was rumored that on top of that he had a “thing” for the Deputy Mayor. However, one of his top lieutenants had started the more widely believed rumor that he had a thing for Mayor Manx.
Whatever was true, Feral had arranged this whole ordeal for this particular Friday evening, and EVERY supervillain in town knew about it.
Mac and Molly Mange had been planning for this day for weeks now. Of course, their plans were half-baked, because they could never agree on what to do.
“We should just blow the place up,” Mac had said.
“No, stupid! How would we get the plans?” Molly had retorted.
“Yeah, but think of all those guys in one place!” Mac had pointed out.
“Ah, we could get ’em all in one place just by taking over city hall,” Molly had snorted.
“Wanna go do that, then?”
“You MORON! How would we get the plans?!”
The plans to which they referred were those for the new guns – there was only one gun manufactured so far.
Molly wanted to steal the plans and make more guns, then kill all the living kats. Mac just wanted to kill them and take their money.
“Honestly, sometimes I don’t know WHY I married you,” Molly moaned.
Dr. Viper knew about the guns, too. He had decided rather quickly that no mutant-hide-piercing bullets were going to pierce HIS mutant hide. He had planned ahead to use some leftover mutant henchmen from earlier capers to help him steal the gun plans – he didn’t want to call attention to himself by stealing any new katalysts.
Once he had the plans, Viper planned on making one to kill his competition, then kill “thossssse meddling SssWAt Katsssss.” It was a well thought-out plan, actually.
DarkKat couldn’t wait to steal the plans for the new gun. In reality, he was excited because he could smell the inevitability of a final victory. He knew that he would have the city’s top brass as sitting ducks, and that the SWAT Kats would try to save them. He had been chuckling a good deal since he realized how much fun he would have, crushing his goody-goody nemeses with one fell swoop. He chuckled more at the sound of “fell swoop.” What a stupid-sounding expression.
Oh, he couldn’t wait.
HardDrive had made himself a new surge suit whil he was in prison. The incredibly naive guard had dismissed the incriminating evidence when HD informed him that he was into “old circuits and embroidery.” As soon as he’d finished it he’d escaped. The guard didn’t notice, because HardDrive’s other “hobby” was “baking donuts” for his “friend” the guard. The donuts contained a secret ingredient from another “hobby,” “chemistry.” (It was strychnine.)
HardDrive had overheard the guard mention the gun (before he ate the “specially formulated” donut).
‘If it’s on disk, it’s MINE,’ he thought merrily. “I’ll sell the plans – no, I’ll sell the guns!”
He was all set.
The PastMaster laughed loudest and best of all. His plan was, after all, the epitome of perfection. He was the one responsible for making sure all the local supervillains would be there.
His idea was simple: get all the goody-two-shoes in the same place as all the evils, give them a common goal, and while they fought, seize control of the city. Meanwhile, who would notice if he decided to grab his intended?
He crowed, one red eye a-twinkle, as the hour drew nearer to the dawn of the new past, when he would snatch up a kingdom and be with Callista at last.
“Ha ha! I’m gonna beat you AGAIN!” Jake/Razor chortled.
“Not in this lifetime!” Chance/T-Bone roared.
Razor neared the finish line of the course, and T-Bone put on a sudden burst of speed, vaulting over the danger fence and tackling the finish line DarkKat dummy.
“Crud!” cursed Razor.
“I won,” taunted T-Bone. “Next time, don’t go gloating.”
He stood up and brushed the dirt off his flight suit – only to trip over the fallen doll.
“Next time, you too,” laughed Razor.
T-Bone growled and lunged at him.
“Oh, crud,” gulped Razor, suddenly fearing for his nine lives.
Up in the pinkish polluted skies above the city, three helicopters flew gracefully as dragonflies towards the MKHWBWD co. building.
The chopper in the center was Feral’s piloted by his niece Felina. Flanking them were Scotty Angora and his new co-pilot Jack McKatross; and Jason Whiskers and his current co-pilot, a non-com named Duke Cueball. Duke had very, very little training, but came recommended from a nearby city, where he had served for about three months. Coincidentally, this was the same city that had sent Lt. Commander Steele.
Jason had noticed how horrible Duke was right away, when they had climbed in the chopper and Duke sat down in Jason’s seat. So Jase, wonderful feline that he was, decided to try a little hazing.
“Hey, Dookie, talk to me,” he said casually.
“Please don’t call me that,” said Duke.
“Okie dokie, dookie,” Jason sang.
Duke just looked antsy, like he desperately needed to urinate. He seemed to be examining the gunner controls with approximately the same understanding as a baboon.
“I hope we get in a dogfight,” said Jason. “I’ll get us in a groove, weaving through skyscrapers, dodging bullets. Dookie then shows his muscle, grits his teeth, and blows the bad guy out of the sky. Why, if we live, we’d show up the SWAT Kats!”
Duke gulped and sank lower in his seat. His eyes darted about as though looking for the litter box.
Jason laughed. He grabbed the radio voice unit.
“Boomerang to Main Squeeze, hey, Main Squeeze, wake up!” he said.
Over in the other chopper, Lt. Felina Feral smiled. She liked Jason’s nickname for her, although she didn’t admit this to her uncle.
“Main Squeeze here. I read you, Boomerang.”
“Hey, Main Squeeze, how’re the Powers That Be?”
“They seem to be okay, just silent. But I don’t know if they appreciate the nickname.”
“Roger that… Q-B says hi to Windbag – who’s that, Q-B?”
Felina laughed in spite of herself.
“Tell Q-B to watch his mouth,” she warned. “Luv ya.”
“And vice versa,” said Jason. “Boomerang out.”
Callie Briggs heard their conversation but didn’t say anything. She *was* going to go out this evening, but *no,* it was a *special* Friday. That usually meant trouble. She was glad she remembered the emergency SWAT Kat summoning device.
Mayor Manx stared blankly into space. He was imagining playing golf down at the “galf carse.” Callie looked at him in distaste.
“Someday I’ll be the mayor,” she thought. “And the SWAT Kats will be the heads of defense!”
Commander Feral reached into a box under his seat and grabbed a fresh donut to eat. It would be another minute before the meeting – he had time.
“Yum yum,” he thought. “And only one – all MINE!”
Felina looked over as though she’d read his mind.
“Oh boy! Donuts! I’m sure you’ll share, won’t you, uncle?”
Feral muttered curses to himself as he broke the powdered delicacy in twain.
Moments later, they arrived at the MKHWBWD co. building, anxious to get the whole thing over with and go back to their individual lack-of-lives. Part II. Can it be… a plot?!
Dr. Katchet, head researcher and developer of the new gun project and normally, the head of the ballistics division, greeted the eight kats who enetered the building warmly, with outstretched paw. He had a cheerful, if a mite vapid, smile that revealed two rows of straight yellow teeth.
“Hello there! It’s a pleasant evening, isn’t it?” he said.
Feral walked past him, ignoring the pleasantry. He did this to appear intimidating. Casually he cocked his head, and with a narrowing of his eyes, he returned the greeting.
“Yes, most certainly. Where is Dr. Katchet; I do not seek to waste time.”
The diminutive doctor reddened.
“I am Dr. Katchet,” he ventured timidly.
*”What’s that, Dookie? You think he has something up his butt?”* Jason whispered to Duke, just loudly enough for Felina to hear.
She covered her mouth to suppress laughter.
“Be quiet,” she whispered back, semi-sternly.
“What did you say, Felina?” asked Jason loudly.
Feral gave both a cutting glance.
‘If those two weren’t such good Enforcers…’
Felina mouthed the words as he muttered them, having heard that spiel at least a thousand times.
Dr. Katchet led them into the primary area. They passed desks covered with papers and files, with computers displaying screens and screens of data. There was a conspicuous lack of the bubbling liquids and test tubes that had been expected.
“Shows what they know about science,” muttered a technician as the curious- eyed kats passed by.
“Well, at least now we know why City Hall pays us crud,” said another.
“They probably think we get to mix chemicals all day and have fun.”
“But we do have fun! Remember the time that Larry in datacomp had that beer, and how he got all plastered and wrote ‘Heisenberg may have been here’ on the bathroom wall?” supplied another.
“How about the time when Simon in statanalysis broke his glasses in half *again* – ”
“- And you hid the duct tape!”
They all laughed.
“Or how about the time I synthesized all that THC for you guys,” said another.
“That wasn’t very cool, Marv.”
“Yeah, if I’d had a girlfriend at the time she’d have kicked me in the jujubes.”
“…what’re the ‘jujubes?’” asked a female technician.
The guys blushed and giggled, not quite knowing what to say.
Callie found their conversation less than droll, her lovely ears having picked up every word.
*”Psst, Mayor, remind me to cut their staffing budget,”* she whispered.
She didn’t say it to be malicious; she knew that the Mayor would forget.
“In just a minute, you are about to see the future in crime-fighting paraphernalia. But first, I have to ask you, Commander, what the probability of your approval of my new mini gun might be,” said the physicist/engineer.
“Virtually *zero*,” Feral sneered. “These weapons are dangerous. I can but imagine what would occur should our city’s criminal element get ahold of these!”
*’Imagine that…’* thought every supervillain in the room. They were all there, hidden in assorted places throughout and completely unaware of one another.
“Well, they won’t,” asserted Katchet. “There is only *one* gun, as of now, and only six bullets. The top secret plans will be in your care, Commander, and your Enforcers will supervise both production and distribution.”
He motioned with his hand at a techie in the corner. Nothing happened. He motioned again, and the techie jumped up, shuddered, and ran over, bearing a tiny box. Dr. Katchet took the box and opened it.
“Ahh. This is it. Ladies – I mean, lady (Felina bristled) and gentlekats, may I present to you the next innovation in mini-gun technology… the Friday Night Special.”
He handed the box to the collosal commander, who looked inside. He then removed from the box a miniscule weapon. It had a mother-of-pearl finish and a glossy black barrel. Feral opened it to reveal the six bullets, all with marbled cartridges. The bullets themselves were of a synthetic material which resembled glass.
“Cute,” said Feral, returning it to the box and the box to Katchet.
“CUTE?” repeated Katchet, but was able to restrain his urge to attack. “You don’t know the half of it. Those tiny bullets can go through ANYTHING, and once they penetrate, they’re programmed to explode at a depth of X inches. Right now that X equals 6, but you can change that. Plus, absolutely NO parts of this gun are forged from metal, and so they can’t be detected. They’re perfect for undercover missions or as backup guns, should one lose one’s firearm. And, this may put an end to unwieldy armaments. A gun makes you a target – unless the enemy can’t see it. *You,* Mayor Manx, and *you,* Deputy Mayor Briggs, might want to carry these, considering the dangerous jobs you hold. Imagine, being able to to defend yourselves the next time a supervillain strikes – fighting back and WINNING! WHy, who knows, we might make the SWAT Kats obsolete.”
“I doubt that very much,” said Callie, wondering how she had managed to endure so much bologna.
“Oh, really? Perhaps, then, you would like to test this weapon out,” said Katchet, handing the gun to her.
She inspected it, turning it around in her delicate paws.
“I’m sorry, Dr. Katchet. I just don’t see how I could support something so potentially dangerous,” she said.
“Why not? You *do* support the SWAT Kats,” countered Feral.
“Watch your mouth, Commander,” she snapped. “What I’m saying is, there’s no point in giving law enforcement a weapon that can be so easily concealed, because from whom would they be concealing it? This seems more like a criminal- style gun to me, one that should be banned and NOT produced.”
“I don’t know,” said Felina, looking thoughtful. “It seems pretty cool to me.”
She took the gun from out of Callie’s paw and began to play with it. Then she pretended to draw it from her pocket and leveled it at Jason’s head.
“Stick ’em up!” she shouted.
Jason grinned and happily played along.
“Oh, please, don’t shoot!” he begged, dropping to his knees. “I have twenty kids and six wives back home, and my mother is starving in Anchorport!”
“Pleading ain’t gonna do you no good,” said Felina, in her best “mobster” voice. Mac and Molly were slightly offended.
“Ohh, please?! Don’t shoot!!!” he moaned.
“Ha ha ha! I’m gonna take your money, and then shoot you!”
“Oh no no no! I don’t have any money for you, honest!”
“Oh? Then what’s that in your pocket?” said Felina in clipped tones.
“Now that you ask…” he said, reaching into his pocket. “It’s a Friday Night Special, and I’m an Enforcer!”
He jumped to his feet, leveling a pretend gun at Felina’s head. Felina moved hers up to match.
“Standoff. Game over,” said Jason.
“Never! Don’t move!” she shouted.
“Felina, come on. This isn’t funny,” he said, dropping his arm to his side.
“I said don’t move!” She was louder this time.
“Felina… *kats are staring*…” he said, through nervously clenched teeth.
“DON’T MOVE!” she screamed, and pulled the trigger!
Jason dived to the side. The bullet missed grazing his ear by nanometers, only to impact with the computer behind him. It exploded, an impressive display of pyrotechnics and shrapnel.
Feral grabbed the smoking gun from the paws of his niece, who remained perfectly still, a picture of shock and mortification.
Jason looked up from his place on the floor.
“…y-you pulled the trigger…” he said, barely comprehending and not at all believing what had happened.
“THIS GUN IS EVIL!” Feral roared.
Dr. Katchet looked nervous, as though his biggest secret had just been promulgated on Kats’ Eye News.
“I-I’ll go delete the plans, yes, I’ll do that. They’re on that disk on the table over there,” he said.
“THAT’S JUST WHAT I WANTED TO KNOW!!!” shouted all of the supervillains at once, all simultaneously leaping from their hiding places.
“Crud!” shouted everyone else.
The villains looked a bit shocked to see one another. For a few seconds, nobody moved – except Callie, who pressed the button on the calling device in her purse. Part III. The SWAT Kats kick some serious tail.
When Ms. Briggs’s call came through, the SWAT Kats were lying on the floor of the reflex room, completely exhausted.
“Let’s go!” shouted T-Bone, jumping to his feet at the first peal of the alarm. “Callie’s in trouble!”
“Just a minute…” moaned Razor.
“C’mon, little buddy, you can’t be that tired.”
“But I don’t wanna go to school today…”
“Oh, don’t be such a *wuss*,” T-Bone chided.
“Who you callin’ a *wuss*?!” snapped Razor, jumping up.
“Just get in the jet.”
T-Bone flew artfully and speedily over MegaKat City, weaving through skyscrapers, imagining the worst. The thought of Callie in trouble was enough to send him flying blindly into any situation.
Razor slumped back, ill, in his seat. The thought of weaving through skyscrapers was enough to send *him* flying blindly into the *bathroom*.
“I’m gonna be sick…” he moaned.
“Maybe you should’ve installed barf bags,” joked T-Bone.
“No joke, buddy.”
“*Re-lax…* When we get wherever we’re going, you can puke on the bad guy.”
Razor smiled. “Just go easy on the turns, would you, buddy?”
“Sure thing!” said T-Bone, pulling a hard left. “Sorry about that!”
Razor was green.
“You know, I had a cousin who *died* choking on his own vomit,” he pointed out.
“Poor guy – what was the matter, he couldn’t *hack it*?!”
Razor decided not to dignify that with a response.
Instead he said, “Gee, buddy, we’d better hurry up! It looks like Callie’s about to be mutated by Dr. Viper!”
“Callie!” T-Bone yelped, accelerating, apparently unaware that Razor couldn’t possibly have known that.
Maybe that wasn’t the best idea!
They set down on the top of the MKHWBWD co. building within seconds of the exchange.
Inside, the place had erupted into chaos. Predominantly visible were technicians in to-the-death fights with creeplings. Upon closer inspection, one could see Felina, frozen in place, with the most heart-wrenching look in her eyes. A violent fight between HardDrive and Scotty Angora was taking place in one corner while Mayor Manx cowered under a table nearby. Commander Feral was battling with DarkKat, who had knocked the mini-gun into a corner. Dr. Viper was fighting with Jason, and was losing. Duke had since vanished, hiding someplace where he couldn’t be found. Jack, Dr. Katchet, and Callie were bunkered behind a table while waging war on Mac and Molly.
The SWAT Kats opened the doors on the aforementioned scene.
“Looks like the gang’s all here,” said T-Bone.
“You always say that,” replied Razor.
Two creeplings lunged at them, sharp claws attempting the severance of the jugular. The SWAT Kats grabbed them by the neck and punched their faces in in unison.
“The SWAT Kats!” exclaimed the villains, while cool guitar music played in the background.
“I gotta hand it to you, Razor, these new soundtracking devices are working great!” said T-Bone.
“Thanks – but I don’t think that these guys would agree!”
Another set of creeplings lunged for them in the meantime, and they blasted those back with mini-tarpedoes. The battles did not stop to accommodate them, and they felt a little upset.
T-Bone pulled a creepling off of the back of a bloodied technician. He whirled around and threw it like a shotput at the wall. Razor tore another one away from its victim and stomped its ugly monster-face into the ground.
“Hey – look at Lieutenant Feral!” he called to T-Bone.
“What th-” he said, but a creepling jumped on top of him, and a mutant mouse tried to take a chunk out of his leg; so he was temporarily distracted.
Up in that same pinkish sky, which had now slightly darkened in keeping with the hour, the PastMaster’s time portal appeared. He descended down to gleefully witness the struggle.
“Things are working out *purr*-fectly,” he chortled. “Now, to find Callista, take over the city, and destroy the SWAT Kats!”
Dr. Viper would not be beaten by a mere boy. He lashed at the gray-furred Enforcer with the full sting of his lizard tail. Jason yelped in pain as the blow felled him. Viper took a step in, and Jason dove between his legs, only to stand up behind him before the mad doctor could turn around. Viper spun into the young lieutenant’s fist.
Viper hobbled backward, katalyst-enriched blood filling his oral cavity and dripping down onto his white coat. He swung around full circle, bringing the full weight of his tail crashing dow onto Lt. Whiskers’s shoulder. His right arm went limp at his side. He stepped back, and Viper advanced.
And the SWAT Kats shot Viper in the head with an electrocutor missile.
“Thanks, guys!” called Jason as the demented doctor fell to the ground. “LOOK OUT!!”
The SWAT Kats whirled around to see *another* set of creeplings, which they knocked asunder, grabbed, and drop-kicked out the door.
DarkKat and Commander Feral were deeply engrossed in their combat, the War of the Windbags. NO actual blows were exchanged. They merely circled each other at arm’s length.
“Try and stop me.”
“Okay, then, I will.”
The SWAT Kats had finished off almost all the creeplings. They looked around for bad guys to fight, and spotted HardDrive.
“Nah,” said Razor.
HardDrive’s eyes scanned the room for the disk with the plans. None of the other supervillains remembered that they wanted it. Scotty Angora punched HardDrive between the eyes. Now HardDrive didn’t remember, either.
The SWAT Kats had turned their attention toward destroying Mac and Molly. The two tin terrors toted twin tommy guns. They fired on the SWAT Kats, who performed a few well-timed acrobatics and dodged the bullets. Mac then decided to shoot at Dr. Katchet and Jack. He didn’t care who he killed, so long as he killed someone.
“Hit the deck!” yelled Jack, pulling Katchet to the ground with him. The projectiles whizzed over their heads.
“No fair,” said T-Bone.
“Cowards,” said Razor.
“Oh yeah?!” said Molly, and she shot at them with her concealed chest rocket launchers.
“Holy Kats! Bazoomba bazookas!” shouted Razor as the two leapt to the side.
“We can’t keep this up much longer,” said T-Bone as shreds of lead flew over their heads to make dents in the wall.
“So why do we even bother?” asked Razor, raising his glove-a-trix and firing a mini-scrambler missile at Molly Mange.
“Molly!” shouted Mac as his wife began to spark and frizzle. “I’ll kill you for this, SWAT Kats!”
He pressed a button on his arm, revealing a gigantic laser cannon.
“Crud!” said Razor.
Mac pressed another button and a high pitched whine began to register.
T-Bone’s paw hurt. He lifted it up and looked at it, finding that he had embedded a stray ball of metal in his palm. He pulled it out – and got an idea. He threw it directly at the cannon.
“So long, SWAT Kreeps!”
*beep* *beep* *beep* *beep*
Mac looked at the cannon just in time to spot the plug before –
– his entire arm blew off.
“AAAHHH!” he squeaked, and with his remaining arm picked up the shell of his wife, intending to flee.
The SWAT Kats grinned victoriously, and T-Bone unleashed another scrambler missile, which connected with the back of the metal mobster’s head. He fell.
“Jeez, T-Bone, those things are really hard to make! Did ya have to waste one on *him*?” said Razor jocularly.
T-Bone elbowed him in the ribs.
Jason looked around the room to witness the fall of HardDrive and that of the Metallikats. Then he spied the War.
“Oh, please,” he said.
He walked towards the dueling losers and nearly stepped on the Friday Night Special and (conveniently located next to it) its plans.
He picked up the plans and gun, putting the plans in his pocket alongside the cyanide capsule. Then he leveled the gun at DarkKat and fired a round into the supervillain’s chest.
DarkKat collapsed forward, green-brown blood (yuck) spilling out onto the ground where he fell. He lay there, twitching, amazingly having survived the depth-charged superbullet.
Jason was about to shoot him again but instead shook himself back into reality.
“Nice shooting, Lieutenant. However, he was *my* tag,” said Feral.
“Sorry, Commander. Dr. Viper -”
“Isss right behind you!”
Short, Green and Gruesome jumped out of the shadows at the surprised Enforcer. Jason ducked, and Viper sailed over his head to land at Feral’s feet. The burly commander picked him up, looked at him, looked over to the SWAT Kats, and smiled. He threw the mutant into the air above him, and then headed him like a soccer ball over to the masked vigilantes, who shot him in midair like some living skeet. He was gone.
Scotty Angora shredded HardDrive’s surge suit.
“Y’ shoulda tried t’ fight back, wussy,” he said, and kicked the villain right where it counts.
“Uff,” grunted HardDrive.
Scotty cuffed him.
But while the SWAT Kats were busy fighting the Metallikats, the last supervillain involved showed up. The PastMaster slipped unnoticed into the lab room. Callie was fighting a maverick creepling when he found her. He reached into his robe and pulled out a crystal prism.
Callie kicked the creepling in the face, denting it with her high heel. She turned, bracing herself, only to discover the PastMaster.
“YOU?!!” she shouted. “Get away from me, you miserable little troll!!”
“Don’t speak so harshly to your groom-to-be,” he chided.
He held up the prism.
“Demons of old
Demons of new
Cast this creature for mine eye to view
Her soul to this crystal
Her body the same
For I hold the gem of Kya’ya’hara
And I tire of this game!”
Callie felt a strange sensation, like the time she had been in MadKat’s box. She no longer felt solid; she felt as though she was suspended in ether. She knew the PastMaster had put her in his prism prison.
“HELP!! SWAT KATS!!!” she screamed.
“No one can hear you, my dear,” said the PastMaster. “Now we must depart. The city is mine for the taking!”
“No!!!” Callie shouted.
“Calm yourself. You will live. No one else here will – you see, I’m going to blow this place up!”
“You CREEP! Let me out of this thing!”
“Uh-uh. You stay with me. We’re going to take over the kingdom and reign eternally – I’ll make you immortal.”
Callie sighed immaterially as the PastMaster spirited her away.
‘He just doesn’t get it,’ she thought.
All the supervillains had been vanquished, so far as the SWAT Kats and others knew. The room fell silent; so silent the the ticking of the PastMaster’s time bomb (what else?) could be heard. Razor fell upon it and defused it – he was lucky this time; unlike DarkKat, the PastMaster did not have all of the wires red.
T-Bone looked around the room.
“Has anyone seen Miss Briggs?” he asked.
Everyone shook their heads “no.”
The PastMaster had, meanwhile, walked into City Hall and up to the Mayor’s office. He’d been there once before and he rather liked it. He then announced over Kats’ Eye News what he had done – or rather, what he had thought he’d done – to the SWAT Kats, the mayor, and the commander. He proclaimed himself King of the renamed Megalith City, and threatened to kill “Callista” if any attempt to depose him was made. He had called for a priest, and had made arrangements for a royal wedding to take place – right then and there.
Steele and the Enforcers had a difficult decision to make. It seemed the chain of command had severed and left its foremost link in the clutches of Public Enemy No. 3. Much as they didn’t like it, to protect the “new mayor” they would lay down their arms. Besides, Steele didn’t have time for this now. He had a hot date at eleven.
And, of course, the PastMaster wasn’t about to leave the decision to them. He’d tainted their water earlier with potions. Part IV – The old Damsel-in-Distress bit that’s starting to get tedious.
“Is everyone else accounted for?” asked T-Bone.
“I don’t know about all these technicians, but I know we’re missing my co-pilot, Duke,” said Jason.
“And Felina’s only half here,” supplied Scotty. “You missed it, SWAT Kats – she tried to kill Jase! I’d never seen anything like it!”
The SWAT Kats looked wide-eyed (although no one could see their eyes through their masks). Jason looked down at the floor.
“It’s that gun,” said Feral. “We came here to see a new gun that might be approved for Enforcer use. When Felina got ahold of it -”
“She started fooling around, then, I don’t know why but she pulled the trigger!” finished Jason, his voice near cracking.
“Hey, don’t be so down on yourself,” said Razor. “You didn’t do anything, and I’m sure she didn’t mean it.”
“Razor’s right,” said T-Bone. “But wait… I don’t know why, but for some reason, we’ve all been having a little too much fun here.”
“Yeah,” said Razor. “Normally we don’t play sports with villain carcasses.”
Dr. Katchet looked a bit nervous and began to back away.
“It looks like someone has a bit of explaining to do,” said Feral.
“But that can wait for later. Right now, we have to find some missing kats!” said T-Bone.
“Right!” said Scotty and Jack.
“For once, you’re right,” said Feral.
“Right,” said Jason.
“That’s the spirit, Lieutenant!” said Razor.
*”Hey Razor,”* T-Bone whispered, *”Check and see if you can get a fix on Callie.”
“Roger that, said Razor quietly, checking his glove-a-trix.
“So, Lieutenant, got any ideas on what happened to what’s his name?”
“Last I saw Duke was when all the supervillains showed up. I think he split – he’s more than likely outside somewhere,” Jason replied, having regained most of his composure.
“Then let’s ignore that coward,” he said. “Razor, you getting anything?”
“Well, sort of – it’s somewhat like a signal, only on a spectrum – and weird, like from another dimension,” said the little SWAT Kat, his brow furrowed.
“You think it will lead us to Miss Briggs, SWAT Kats?” asked Feral.
“It might,” said Razor.
“Then let’s MOVE OUT!” said Feral.
They set off running.
In the meantime, the PastMaster had the wedding ready, except he didn’t want to let Callie out of the prism to put on her dress.
“You’ll run away,” he said.
“How could I?” she replied.
“I suppose that to be true,” he said. “Very well. You may go for a few minutes, but after that, back in.”
The SWAT Kats traced the signal back to City Hall, but when they approached, they were fired upon. Scotty’s chopper was hit, and the SWAT Kats caught it with the TurboKat’s grappling cable. They flew down aways and landed.
“Looks like the signal was right on,” said T-Bone.
“Yeah,” said Razor.
Razor looked at the signal pulse. Suddenly, it flashed blindingly. Razor blinked, and saw that it had resumed being a normal signal.
“Hey, buddy – the signal’s back to normal now!” he shouted.
“Too weird,” said T-Bone.
“Tell me about it.”
They hopped out of the jet.
“Hey, guys, I’ve been thinking,” said Jack McKatross.
“Well, I was just wondering about that bomb. None of the villains there would’ve left it – it’s just not their speed,” he said.
“So you’re thinking there was another villain,” said Scotty.
“So which one leaves time bombs?”
“More pertinently,” said Jason, “which one is always after Callie?”
‘Which one isn’t,’ thought T-Bone.
“Wow, brilliant detective work, Sherlock,” said Jason.
Jack was smiling.
“Well, if he’s right, then we need a plan,” said Razor. “I recommend that we take the building on three sides. The whole place is full of traitors, and if we tried to take it head on, either we’d be killed or Miss Briggs would.”
“Yeah, you’re right; those did seem like Enforcer weapons.”
“In that case…” muttered Feral, “Lt. Cmdr Steele is due for a demotion.”
“So it’s agreed. T-Bone and I will take the back. Feral, you and Whiskers should take the one side. Scotty and Jack take the other. We’ll all rendezvous in the Mayor’s office – that’s where all the trouble is most likely to be.”
They all nodded agreement.
The six good guys set off for City Hall on foot. There was determination in their eyes and strength in their stride. And not one of them had inside even a drop of fear.
Callie, meanwhile, was in the bathroom, putting on the dress the PastMaster had selected – the coronation gown of a medieval queen. It was bedecked with rare, priceless gems and interwoven with gold and silver. It was a bit old- fashioned, but flattering, and under other circumstances she might have enjoyed wearing it.
“Are you ready, my dear?” called the PastMaster through the door.
“Not yet. Give me a few minutes,” she answered.
She had no intention of marrying the PastMaster. She was merely trying to stall for as long as possible, until her beloved SWAT Kats could show up and save her. But even that notion was getting a bit wearing.
Her hands shook as she attempted to put on makeup. She thought about making a break for it, but she would be caught, she knew, and god knows WHAT the PastMaster would do. She reached into her purse and procured the summoning device, hoping against hope that the PastMaster’s plans to kill the SWAT Kats had been thwarted, and that they were on their way.
*”SWAT Kats! Hurry! The PastMaster has control of the Enforcers and City Hall! He’s going to force me to marry him, if you don’t get here in time!”* she whispered.
“Are you ready NOW, my dear?” asked the PastMaster once more.
“Not quite. I need to fix my veil and makeup,” she called back.
The SWAT Kats heard everything.
*”Don’t worry, we’re on our way,”* T-Bone whispered back.
The rush of relief she felt would have to be delayed because at that very second the PastMaster began to jimmy the doorknob.
*”Thanks a million, guys – I’m counting on you,”* she whispered, and ended transmission.
The PastMaster opened the door, looking at his watch.
“Time’s up, Callista – we mustn’t keep the wedding party waiting!”
“I’m almost ready,” she said, and adjusted the veil.
The PastMaster looked up, his good eye going wide.
“A vision of loveliness!” he said, enraptured. “Now we must go to the wedding, my bride and queen.”
“Yes,” she said, feeling as weak as a ladybug in a spiderweb.
The SWAT Kats snuck inside the back of City Hall with minimal difficulty. There were no Enforcers posted to guard a brick wall – which was the preferred mode of entry for the feline superheroes. T-Bone smashed a hole in the masonry and then into the vent shaft that Razor had detected behind it, and in they went.
“I hope Callie’s okay,” said Razor.
“That little creep better not lay a finger on her, or I’ll…” he grumbled.
“Easy, buddy. Stay calm – getting angry’s not going to help Callie.”
T-Bone did not calm down, but the two SWAT Kats continued their synchronized ascent.
There are things that one learns simply by being around a while, and Scotty Angora, having been an Enforcer for three years, had his share of them. Usually these things are useless trifles, and this particular example would have been, had it not been for the *un*usual circumstances. The sergeant and his partner slipped in via the side entrance to City Hall – jumping through the window – and made their way stealthily to the top via the unused, crumbling, original staircase secreted behind the newer one.
Each step had to be tested, carefully, before they dared apply their body weight to it. The boards were rotted and bats hung from the banister (or what sections of that remained). Their nerves were shot; it had been one incredible night so far. They still felt – as did all others involved – that going out clubbing would have been a tad more enjoyable. Going home, having a nightcap, and going to sleep would even have been better.
Jason Whiskers and Ulysses Feral were hiding behind a dumpster, trying to think of a way up and inside.
Some scaffolding for window washers lay rested on the ground. The two to whom it was employed were perched on the back of their truck, eating tunafish sandwiches. One was incredibly large, bright orange, and cycloptic. The other was dwarven, and appeared to have been born with hydrocephaly. His head was HUGE, compared to the rest of him. The only possible course of action became obvious to Jason.
*”I have a plan,”* he whispered to the commander.
The commander didn’t mind hearing out his lieutenant. He hadn’t let him down before too badly. Besides, Felina would claw his eyes out if he didn’t.
“Good plan,” Feral said.
The “window washers” were phonies, as was completely obvious by their notoriety. They were known criminals – “Kill-O-Tron” and “Junior,” the robots. They didn’t like the PastMaster at all for bringing them here, to guard the building. So they opted out of the job, and sat on the truck.
The two Enforcers walked up to the window washers. The noshing pair did not see them approach, and Jason and Feral hit them over the head with pipes. They dragged the unconscious kats back to the location behind the dumpsters.
“Hey, Commander… these guys seem a little heavy,” said Jason.
“Tell me about it. This one must weigh at LEAST a metric ton! He also has only one eyeball… and peculiar dentition…”
“Come to think of it, why are they here?”
“Windows don’t usually get washed at night…”
They pulled off the coveralls and found their answer.
“They’re made of metal?”
“Kill-O-Tron,” said Feral. “That’s who *this* one is. I’d know that pumpkin-face anywhere.”
Jason frowned, puzzled.
“Hey, Commander – do metal kats *eat*?” he asked, thinking suddenly of his own encroaching appetite.
“Let’s find out.”
Feral punched out the large robot’s abdominal panel, and found a ball of undigested tunafish sandwich.
“I didn’t think so.”
Jason took the remains of the smaller robot’s sandwich and began to eat it.
They pulled on the coveralls as Whiskers finished his sandwich. “Junior” had stretched the smaller suit to bizarre proportions.
Feral laughed. “Don’t worry, Lieutenant. The ‘grunge look’ suits you.”
“I’ll only take Felina’s word for it,” he replied.
The commander’s jaw set tensely. He smashed a beefy fist into one of K-O-T’s panels.
“Let’s go get the PastMaster.”
That cheered him up a bit.
They then took the tools and climbed up onto the scaffolding.
“What now?” asked Feral.
“What else? Work our way up!” Jason answered blithely. “Just go quickly and we should be there in no time.”
Now all three teams were on their way.
The PastMaster had spared no expense for this wedding. He’d even hired an organist, who had just begun the haunting, heavy strains of “Lohengrin.” (The immortal Wagner’s song also known to the plebeians as “Here Comes the Bride.”)
The troll-like immortal grinned as he marched in and to the front. His legs were so very short that it took him two verses. The kats along the aisle had tears in their eyes, which the PastMaster assumed was caused by pollen. He should not have bought all those flowers, but then, he had a weakness for ragweed.
Behind her translucent, iridescent veil, Callie Briggs looked sad and nervous. She sent a furtive plea to the crowd with her big, green eyes, but no one did anything. She scanned the room. Steele was standing beside a priest; the room was teeming with turncoat Enforcers. The Kats’ Eye News team was filming in the corner.
The organ silenced.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here tonight to witness the union of these two souls-”
The PastMaster cut him off and gave him a nasty look.
“Sorry about that – we are gathered here tonight to witness the complete subordination of one soul, that of Callista, to the whim of the soulless PastMaster.”
‘My own wedding, and they can’t even get my name right,’ thought Callie, attempting to distract herself from the terror of the moment.
The priest droned on about the importance of love in a relationship, blah blah blah, yadda yadda yadda. Callie didn’t care. It made her job – that of stalling – a good deal easier.
The PastMaster was rapidly growing impatient. He looked up at Callie, and she looked away, unwilling to let him see the fear in her eyes.
The SWAT Kats and Enforcer teams were only two floors below the mayor’s office, where the wedding was taking place.
“Almost… there…” grunted T-Bone, a tad fatigued from the climb.
On the stairs: “Nearing the top… We can smash through the east wall and that should bring us into the mayor’s office, which is sealed off otherwise,” said Scotty.
“Roger that,” said Jack. “I just hope there aren’t any other supervillains wanting to make an appearance tonight.”
Scotty chuckled. “Likewise.”
Outside: Commander Feral’s arms hurt from washing so many windows.
“Almost there,” said Jason. “What a workout! …Sorry, Commander.”
“For what?” Feral asked, still washing. “It was a little wearing, lieutenant – but it is an honor to have someone like you on the force.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Jason, reddening. He felt like Felina… but he couldn’t think about her right now, no matter how much he wanted to.
“And wherever two are gathered in my name, there is love. Here, in this place, ladies and gentlekats, are two kats gathered in the name of the Lord – and filled with much love.”
The priest was not a convincing liar. His entire speech sounded as though it were being fed to him through a teleprompter. At any second, Callie expected him to squint and curse the small print. But then, suddenly and without warning, it was over, and he had moved on to something else.
“If any kat here tonight has reasons why these two should not wed, speak now or forever hold your peace.”
There was deadly silence in the room. No one dared to speak. Mentally, the deputy mayor took note of who was there and crossed them off her Christmas card list. She looked around, still hoping beyond hope. There was none left for her.
‘Where are the SWAT Kats?’
“Then we shall go on. PastMaster, do you take Callista to be your *lawfully* wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and on health, in good times and in bad times, for richer or for poorer, ’til death do you part?”
The PastMaster found the final stipulation highly amusing. He cackled a bit before responding: “I do.”
The villain grinned, face alight with anticipation.
“And do you, Callista, take the PastMaster to be your lawfully wedded husband-” a glare from the PastMaster “- in all of the same circumstances, ’til death do you part?”
Callie’s heart raced. She hoped her hair wasn’t turning gray.
‘T-Bone! Razor! Where are you?’
Pastie smiled up at her, and every kat in the room was fixated on her. The only sound was that of the cameras rolling, broadcasting her moment of truth throughout the city.
“I… I…” she began, shaking.
*”Say it,”* whispered the PastMaster.
It felt as though time itself stood still as she opened her mouth to phrase her own undoing. Part V – Yeah, I know you saw this a mile away. (Denouement.)
…And then, at that very moment, T-Bone, Razor, Feral, Jason, Scotty, and Jack burst through from their access points into the room of the dread ceremony.
“I don’t and NEVER WILL!” Callie shouted joyously, throwing down her bouquet of known allergens.
“Game over, PastMaster – you lose!” declared T-Bone.
“Oh, no, I don’t – Steele, open fire!”
The Lt. Cmdr did as he was told, the other turncoats joining him.
Callie turned to run away as the room erupted into anarchy, but old Pastie stepped on the train of her dress and she fell, hitting her head on a chair and blacking out for the briefest of instances.
The room went wild. No one knew whom to shoot, so they shot at everyone. The SWAT Kats attempted to round the bad guys up with their nets, but the Enforcers had lasers which they used to escape.
Piles of wounded formed on the floor. Laser blasts snaked through the air.
Razor spotted the PastMaster standing by a fallen Callie, and decided not to tell T-Bone, but rather, just to act. He shot the PastMaster with a small missile, like the one he had used to pin mutant T-Bone, and stuck the troll to the wall.
“Hey, Jason! Want to play pin the eye on the ugly?” he yelled, and the gray lieutenant grinned, ducking under a volley of fire directed at his head.
“Deja vu,” he muttered.
Commander Feral spotted Lt. Cmdr. Steele, who was trying to flee. Feral fired on him, striking him squarely in the small of the back.
Callie was just regaining consciousness as the battle wore down. Unfortunately, the PastMaster had wriggled out of his confines. He fumbled around in his pocket and produced the Gem. He ran over to her.
The SWAT Kats took care of the last three stragglers and turned to see Feral, who was approaching the dwarven demon.
“Surrender, Sorcerer!” he boomed.
“Never!” the PastMaster crowed.
“Demons of old
Demons of new
Cast this creature for mine eye to view
Her soul to this crystal
Her body the same
For I hold the Gem of Kya’ya’hara
And I tire of this game!”
While the SWAT Kats, other good guys, and katizens of MegaKat City watched, Deputy Mayor Briggs became enveloped in gold mist. She began to levitate. Her body began to sparkle, and she was tossed in the throes of magic. She vanished in a puff of smoke, only to reappear inside the prism.
“Now, we must be off,” said the PastMaster, laughing.
He raised his watch, and a portal formed outside, swirling black and green sky. As the onlookers gaped, he began to float away, brandishing the semi-precious stone that held the Deputy Mayor. It swung from a velvet rope, wavering in the breeze.
“NO!” yelled Jason, but it was nearly too late.
Then he remembered the Friday Night Special. He drew it from his pocket. He ran to the window and elevated it, but he was shaky.
“Give me that,” snapped Razor, and he snatched it away.
“No, don’t!” shouted Feral. “Those bullets explode!”
“EXPLODE!” Razor gasped, turning – and firing.
The infinitesimal projectile whizzed upwards, mocking gravity. The protagonists watched with baited breath as it severed the cord – and exploded just behind the freed gem, destroying it.
There was another brilliant flash – and the Deputy Mayor rematerialized, falling to the ground at a rate of negative sixteen meters per second squared.
“CALLIE!” roared T-Bone, and leapt out of the window. He blasted a telephone pole with his grappling hook and swung across the street, catching her by the arm as she reached his elevation and pulling her in tightly to him as momentum and the cable length drew both to the ground.
The PastMaster screamed ancient curse-cyphers at them as he was sucked up by his own designs.
“Miss Briggs,” said T-Bone, struggling to catch his breath. “Did the PastMaster…?”
She smiled at him through weary eyes.
“No, he didn’t,” she said. “But someone will, someday.”
“I hope not!” T-Bone roared. “Why I’d…”
Callie laughed at the misunderstanding.
“I guess I heard the question wrong,” she told him.
“What did you think I meant?” asked the SWAT Kat, puzzled.
But she didn’t have time to answer him as the Kats’ Eye News chopper set down next to them and Ann, Feral, Razor, Scotty, Jack, and Jason hopped out. T-Bone realize that he still had his arm on Callie’s shoulder, and he blushed.
“SWAT Kats! T-Bone, Razor – the city, we thought…” said Ann breathlessly into her microphone.
But they weren’t paying attention. T-Bone and Razor were talking to Jason, and Feral was conversing with his sergeant and officer.
“No worries, Ann,” said Callie, “the SWAT Kats are *always* on call.”
Ann tried to press further but Callie was already missing, and a stream of other reporters and photographers had invaded the area. Feral et. al. were gone, returned to their choppers that they might go home.
“Nice shooting, Razor!”
“Nice catch, T-Bone.”
“Hey, Jase, guess we were lucky you had this gun,” said T-Bone.
Jason took the Friday Night Special back from Razor.
“What, this? Razor could have done that with any old gun! This is just a bad influence, and it caused way more trouble than it’s worth.”
“We were lucky to have such heroes around, that’s how we were lucky,” Callie corrected, her eyes set on T-Bone and Razor.
The news teams surrounded them, flooding them with questions.
“I don’t know anything!” said Jason. “I’m outta here.”
T-Bone held up a paw to the cameras.
“Miss Briggs, would you like a ride home?” he asked.
“That would be lovely,” she said.
The three walked off, trailed by the reporters, on their way to the Turbokat… and the welcoming night sky.
“What an incredible evening here in MegaKat City. Secrets, struggles, coups d’ etat – firefights, weddings, and sorcery. Yes, we’ve seen them all, in only a few short hours. And now, Kats’ Eye News sources indicate that FIVE of the city’s most notorious supervillains have been apprehended earlier by the same six kats who broke up that awful wedding. This is Ann Gora, Kats’ Eye News, leaving you to ponder: what in the universe will happen next? Stay tuned.” Epilogue One – A wrap-up.
T-Bone and Razor droppe Callie off at her place. It had been a rough night for all three of them, and much as she would have liked to have them stay and chat over a cup of hibiscus tea, she fell asleep on the way and the SWAT Kats left without waking her. When she did awaken, and found the two gone, she took several cold showers before returning to the security of her warm bed.
She dreamed that someday, this sort of thing would not happen to her.
The SWAT Kats returned to their hangar, changed back into civilian garb, and would have gone to sleep as well except for an old lady in need of towing.
The two Enforcers, Scotty and Jack, returned to their apartments and to their own creature comforts.
Commander Feral did whatever it is he does rather than have a life or sleep.
DarkKat was in very poor health after Jason shot him. He swore revenge on the silver-furred pilot, to be executed as soon as he escaped from prison.
Dr. Viper was put in HardDrive’s old cell, and was guarded by the same guard (who had somehow survived the poisoning spell). The guard took a shine to the reptilian pseudo-scientist and began to suggest that Viper take up some “hobbies” to pass the time.
HardDrive employed his old tricks, but now within the walls of the lunatic asylum. He liked the madhouse much better than prison. The company was more enjoyable.
The Metallikats were, as usual, dismantled and placed on shelves in the evidence locker.
And the PastMaster, angry about losing his captive “Callista,” sulked. He plotted his next caper -and this time, a little more careful with the details.
The stage was set for a new adventure. Epilogue Two: The “sappy” one. Gets rid of the holes, though.
Lt. Jason Whiskers flew his helicopter back to the MKHWBWD co. building. The first to greet him there was Dr. Katchet, who appeared to have been waiting for him somewhat impatiently at the door.
“Finally you have come back! And look, now someone has stolen the Friday Night Special!” he snapped.
Jason pulled the pint-sized piece from his pocket and waved it under the scientist’s nose.
“You mean this?” he asked.
Katchet snatched it away from him.
Jason snatched it back.
“It’s been confiscated by the Enforcers. You won’t be researching this form of weapon anymore.”
Katchet began to bluster. He swelled up and made gurgly noises, all of which made his appearance and stature seem the more ludicrous.
“As far as the plans, those have been confiscated as well. Both are to be destroyed.”
“W-w-when? I demand a chance to appeal this decision!”
“Fine. You have thirty seconds, and you can start by explaining what the effects of this on Lieutenant Feral REALLY were.”
Katchet was purple now and he could no longer could make any sound as he followed the lanky lieutenant down the corridor, deep into the building. Jason then stopped short by a door marked “Danger: Blast Furnace,” and opened it.
“You can’t go in there!” Katchet blurted.
“Are you going to stop me?” asked Jason, with an expression he’d picked up from Felina.
He walked in the room, threw back the blast furnace door, and readied the gun and the disk.
“Any closing remarks?” he asked, poised to toss.
“My crowning achievement! NOOOOOO!!”
Katchet jumped at him. Jason grabbed him by the nape of the neck and brought him about, his face near to the fire.
Jason pulled him back, knowing what had been said lately about police brutality. He slammed the furnace door shut.
“Now, did the heat loosen your tongue or am I going to have to find another means of getting you to talk?”
Katchet began to cry.
“It was my dream! You don’t understand! It’s only the resin! That’s all that it was! I could easily have changed the formula – oh, why, why couldn’t I have been more patient?!” he wailed.
“Calm down,” said Jason. “You’re not making sense.”
“The fumes from the preparation of the resin act as an intoxicant even in small concentrations.”
“The synthetic material that the barrel was made of. I… spilled some in the lab, in a vent grate… it spread throughout the building… your friend must have stood to close to an air pocket… I didn’t mean…”
“It doesn’t matter what you meant, the point is that you knew. I was almost killed in there, and you’d have had a hell of a time convincing a jury to knock the charge down to katslaughter, if that!”
Katchet began to cry louder. Jason looked away and loosened his grasp. A pair of partollmen entered, and Jason ordered them to take him away, the commander would want to hear this one personally.
But there was something HE had to do right now.
Felina was still in shock when Jason approached her. He stood behind her frozen form and waved his paw in front of her eyes. No response.
“Felina…” he whispered in her ear.
He put his paw on her shoulder, and she jumped.
“Jason?” she said, turning.
She embraced him.
“Jason, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me,” she said, then drew back. “What’s the matter?”
He was smiling and crying at the same time.
“I’m sorry, too. I never should have doubted you.”
“But I -”
“Was high on resin fumes, courtesy of the good Dr. Katchet,” he said.
She laughed once, a surprised, relieved laugh.
“Jason, I…” she began, but her voice trailed off.
“Listen, Felina. It hasn’t been very long that we’ve been together – granted, it’s been a long time that we’ve felt this way. It feels as though I’ve known you forever, and I knew – I know in my heart that that wasn’t you. There is no way in the universe that I could ever stop loving you for that. I care about you – I guess that’s all I wanted to say,” he said, tears rolling out in a profusion.
Felina usually reddened when “love” was mentioned. She usually looked away and laughed at her partner, or her uncle, or the SWAT Kats – whoever brought it up. But this time, she didn’t even bat an eye.
“You’re so sweet,” she said.
They stood there, and then Felina embraced him again.
“Oh, jeez, Jason,” she cried, “I love you so much!”
Now she was crying, too. He hugged her close.
“I love you, too,” he said. “And nothing could ever change that.”
Or could it….
The pair stood there for a long time. Enforcer teams eventually began to detoxify the air. Felina took a deep breath in. Suddenly she realized what she was doing, and she jumped away.
“Sucker!” she shouted, and turned to run.
He reddened, shivered, smiled, and began pursuit.
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Disclaimer: SWAT Kats: The Radical Squadron is copyright to Hanna-Barbera Cartoons Inc. All Rights Reserved. © 1995. All other characters and material within this page are the property of their respective creators.