Manx Municipal Park was bustling with activity that warm, sunny day. Picnicking families lay on blankets and ate food. Cyclists pedaled along the bike paths that wound through the park’s sparsely-forested landscape. The enormous statue of Mayor Manx had some graffiti sprayed on its base, but overall the park named after him seemed to be in generally good condition considering how poorly its grand opening had gone a year earlier.
Among the parkgoers were Chance and Jake. They’d driven to the park and already had their skates on, skating around over near the statue, although their mood was generally gloomy. The promise rematch hadn’t even happened. And, Burke and Murray hadn’t showed up, although perhaps that was a good thing.
“Tough luck about that new Enforcer guy,” Chance was saying, “what was his name?”
“Taylor,” Jake reminded him.
“Yeah, Taylor,” Chance remembered now. Corporal Taylor. Poor guy. “As if we needed any more reason to hate those nasty bugs…”
He shuddered at the thought, rubbing where he himself had been bitten, grateful that the converted guard hadn’t been far enough along in his transformation to have done to him what had been done to Taylor. The thought of losing his sense of self and being mind-controlled while his body inexorably changed into an alien bug filled him dread. He really, really hated the Ci-Kat-A.
“I just wish we knew where they went.”
Jake skated in a circle around Chance.
“Relax, buddy,” he said, trying to sound optimistic. “Street’s bound to surface again sometime soon. Whatever he and his bug-eyed crew have planned with that katalyst they took, we’ll stop ’em. We just gotta wait for ’em to act. Until then, we can’t just rush off trying to look for ’em because we don’t have the slightest clue where to begin.”
“So just enjoy some time off for a change, will ya? Beautiful day, fresh air, lovely scenery…” He trailed off, eyeing the Manx statue. “…well, mostly.”
“Hey guys!” yelled Murray from nearby.
Jake halted beside Chance, and they watched as Burke and Murray Schlepper came walking up. Both of them were carrying rollerskates. Chance grumbled, but Jake wordlessly urged his friend with a pay on the shoulder to be civil. Burke and Murray put on their rollerskates and proved to be surprisingly graceful skaters despite their odd proportions, bulk (especially in Burke’s case) and general seeming clumsiness.
Clearly enjoying themselves, the brothers made a point of showing off. Murray wore a Walkman, through which what Chance and Jake thought was the Nutcracker Suite could be heard tinnily as Murray pirouetted about. Chance shook his head. Jake just chuckled. The fact the Schlepper Brothers had warmed enough to them over the last year to be considered something resembling friends frankly amazed him. It wasn’t so long ago these two spent every waking moment of their lives trying to pick fights with Chance and Jake and generally making their lives miserable. Now, they were skating with them at the park. How times change, thought Jake.
Mayor Manx’s long, white limousine pulled into the park. One of the tinted black windows rolled down, and Manx leaned out, waving to the uncaring public, who mostly ignored him. The limo parked near the statue. The uniformed chauffeur got out and went to open the back door, but it flew open. He jumped back as Manx got out in his golfing clothes, nine iron in one hand, crumpled speech notes in Callie Briggs’ handwriting in the other.
“Come, Callie!” Manx said, excited. “I want to get this wretched speech over with so I make my tee time!”
He ran off towards the base of the statue. Callie, getting out after him, briefcase in hand, sighed and exchanged tired looks with the chauffeur, who merely shook his head and shut the door. They watched Manx beginning to deliver a speech about progress and low crime rates to no one in particular. Noticing Chance and Jake, Callie smiled and walked over.
“Well, if it isn’t my two favorite auto mechanics.”
“Hi, Callie,” said Jake.
“Nice to see you two out and about,” said Callie, who rarely interacted with the pair outside of the garage, or so she thought. “What’s the occasion? Or is it just for fun?”
“Yeah, that and, uh…”
Chance skated past behind him. “We needed a break from mindsucking stupidity, but it followed us.”
Callie glanced at Burke and Murray. She wasn’t too familiar with them, but she was aware there’d been tension between them and Chance and Jake in the past. “I see. Well, you know the old saying. You can’t pick your friends.”
At that, she again looked over at a wildly gesticulating Manx, still droning on and being ignored by the parkgoers. Suddenly, a punk on skates shot past and grabbed Callie’s purse.
“Hey!” she yelled.
Chance and Jake immediately moved to pursue him. “Don’t you worry, Callie! We’ll catch this guy!”
Before they could move, Callie, gripping the handle of her briefcase tightly, turned and flung it after the retreating thief. It hit him in the small of his back, sending him sprawling. With a yelp, he crashed to the ground, and the contents of Callie’s purse scattered all over the cement. A few bystanders gasped and then applauded, including Burke and Murray.
A little numbly, Chance and Jake went and helped Callie pick up the dropped items from her purse. She smiled. “Thanks, guys.”
“Don’t mention it,” said Jake “Say, that was pretty impressive, Callie.”
“Self-defense classes,” she said with a smile. “The SWAT Kats can’t be everywhere at once, after all.”
Chance got up and skated over to where the mugger was lying. Finishing, Callie stood and gave her purse a little shake, all the items rustling inside, and she gave it a little pat with a smile. Meanwhile, Chance grabbed the dazed mugger and yanked him to his feet, dragging him over, the criminal’s shirt collar in one hand, Callie’s briefcase in the other.
“Here ya go,” he said, handing her the briefcase. To the mugger, he said “Now, say you’re sorry and be a good boy and sit and wait for the Enforcers.”
He gave the crook a rough shake.
“S-Sorry,” the mugger said, wincing.
Suddenly, the ground trembled. Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked around in confusion. Birds flew screeching in a wild panic from the trees.
“It must be some kind of earthquake!” cried Jake.
The ground split open, and the giant grub worms created by Dr. Street erupted up into view, sending chunks of earth and concrete flying in all directions. They bellowed angrily, emitting a gurgling hiss, drooling slime hideously from their proboscises. People began screaming and running away.
Numbly, standing and watching openmouthed, Chance released his hold on the terrified mugger, allowing him to skate away to safety. He hurriedly disappeared into the anonymity of the fleeing crowds.
Murray screamed. “Yaaahhh! Let’s get outta here!”
Burke grabbed his smaller sibling, slinging Murray onto his back, and began skating away.
“Aw, man, can’t we just have one nice day without anything bad happening?” complained Chance.
Noticing the fleeing Burke and Murray, Jake said, “They’ve got the right idea! Come on, Callie!” He scooped an unresisting Callie into his arms.
Nearby, Manx screamed as one of the worms slithered over towards him. “Godfrey!”
He and his chauffeur ran to the limo, the chauffeur opening the front door, Manx opening the back, but before they could get in, the worm’s path towards them took it into direct contact with the statue. Bonk! It slammed into it. Manx stood half in, half out of the car, watching in wide-eyed terror as the enormous stone version of himself with its insufferably smug grin came teetering down towards him. A quick-thinking Chance skated over and grabbed Manx, pulling him to safety by the collar. He turned to do the same for the chauffeur, but he’d already leaped free as the statue landed on the limo, crushing it.
The grub worm bellowed and bent towards them, the spoutlike proboscis widening a bit like a funnel, as though to swallow them whole. Instead, it sprayed a torrent of acidic slime!
Chance, it turned out, had worn the Turbo Rollerblades after all. He’d intended on cheating again in the rematch that never ended up happening, but he realized it was a good thing he had them. He activated the rocket boosters. Little jets of fire shot out from his heels, propelling him forward with Manx in his arms. In motion, he hoisted Manx onto his back, the terrified Mayor releasing his precious golf club so that he can hold onto Chance’s back with one hand and grab his hairpiece with the other; his golfing cap flew off, and the toupee would’ve joined it, but Manx, skilled at saving what little dignity he had in these kinds of situations, managed to snatch it out of the air just in time.
The two shot off just as the acid spewed forth by the monstrous worm hit the ground. The puddle hissed and bubbled and began to melt through the concrete. Manx screamed. The chauffeur got up and ran off in another direction.
Nearby, Callie was being carried by Jake. Both of them took notice of the Turbo Rollerblades, but for different reasons. Jake was simultaneously annoyed and relieved that his friend brought them even though he swore he wouldn’t, while Callie was confused, wondering why on Earth Chance would have rocket-powered rollerblades. Although there were more pressing things to worry about right now, like the giant grub worm slithering determinedly after them, hissing, she had noticed it nevertheless. She clung as Jake skated around bushes, park benches and other obstacles, struggling desperately to put some distance between them and their wormy pursuer, which sprayed a firehose-like torrent of its greenish acidic glop, just missing them, splattering the ground with the hideous liquid.
It reoriented itself and spat another blast, which Jake just barely dodged. The slime splattered all over a bench, a hot dog vendor’s cart and a sundial, causing them to hiss, bubble and pop, melting into puddles like heated candle wax.
Running perpendicular to them, Chance noticed their plight, and with a whoosh, he skated over, making a beeline for the worm that was trying to get them, shouting a taunt at the one chasing him and Manx in the process.
“Come on, ugly! Come and get me!”
Enraged, the worm redoubled its efforts and started undulating his bloated body faster in an effort to catch them. The one chasing Jake and Callie was oblivious to this. Chance shot underneath its raised chin, momentarily confusing it, and them wham! The worm that’d been pursuing him smashed into its companion, and both were sent reeling into the grassy knoll, smashing into a gazebo, splintering it into matchwood.
Safely out of their reach, Jake breathed a sigh of relief. Chance deactivated the rockets on the Turbo Rollerblades and skated normally alongside his friend, offering a sheepish grin. Jake just shook his head.
Upon reaching what they figured was a safe distance, the two set Callie and Manx down. “You guys stay here! We’ll go get help!” Jake said.
“But-” protested Callie.
Before she could finish, the two skated off, heading towards where they’d parked the tow truck, thankfully parked out of Callie and Manx’s line of sight. They opened the doors, and rummaging inside, pulled two parcels from underneath the seats containing emergency SWAT Kat suits and Glovatrixes. They’d been caught without the Turbokat before and had since taken to carrying emergency equipment stowed in the truck just for situations like this.
“I wish we had the Turbokat!” complained Chance as he changed clothes.
“Beggars can’t be choosers!” said Jake as he likewise started taking off his civilian clothing. “Hurry and get dressed! Those worm things are slow, but Callie and Manx won’t be safe where we left them for too long!”
They hurriedly changed, becoming T-Bone and Razor once more.
“Let’s rid this park of these overgrown pests!” T-Bone said.
Rushing forward, he aimed up at one of the grubs with his Glovatrix.
“Launching Mini-Matchhead Missiles!”
Fwoosh! The missile flew up and splatted into the worm’s ugly face. It shrieked in agony as its soft flesh was set alight, its entire head aflame.
As its screaming rose in pitch and became unbearable, a wincing T-Bone readied his Glovatrix again. “Time to put this poor ugly thing outta its misery!” He aimed at it. “So long, big guy! Launching Mini-Turboblades!”
The Turboblades shot out and sailed true, hitting the worm’s soft underbelly, piercing it easily. They passed through its thick body and erupted out of his back, neatly slicing the enormous monster into three sections. The middle section thudded to the ground, lifeless, as did the head, the life draining out of its face, a mixture of greenish, bloodlike goo, acid and saliva drooling from the limp proboscis, a death rattle gurgling out, while the lower half continued twitching and flailing, spraying green slime in all directions, as though unaware the upper two portions it’d been separated from had died.
T-Bone gave the dead monster a little salute. “Rest in pieces, pal!”
At Enforcer Headquarters, the mushroom monster was out front, still surrounded by commandos. Dr. Viper had gone inside in the meantime. The assembled Enforcers were clearly nervous. The monster glared at them with narrowed eyes. Hearing the rackety whir of rotor blades, the commandos looked up. High above, they saw a squadron of Enforcers taking off from the elevated runway and flying away. While they were thus preoccupied, the mushroom monster turned and eyed the still open manhole he and Viper had used when they arrived. He inched toward it.
Suddenly, a commando noticed him. “Hey!”
The mushroom monster’s eyes widened, and right as the Enforcers took aim at him with their laser rifles, he liquefied himself, collapsing into his sentient puddle form, and promptly oozed swiftly across the asphalt and into the manhole, disappearing from sight even as the startled commandos opened fire.
A few ran to the open sewer and aimed their guns in after him, but were stopped by their leader. “Hold your fire! He’s gone!”
The Commander wasn’t going to like learning they’d let Viper’s monster sidekick escape, thought the lead commando.
Back at Manx Park, Razor was fighting another worm. He readied his Glovatrix, aiming into its proboscis, which widened as it prepared to shower him in acid.
“Launch Mini-Piranha Missile!”
The missile shot forth, the tip splitting off to reveal working, serrated mandibles which opened and closed, making metallic “chomping” noises.
The little projectile flew into the funneled opening of the proboscis and made an unpleasant, somewhat obscenely cartoonish bulge as it travelled right down the protruding appendage – and promptly got stuck! There was a pitiful little whirring noise signifying that upon becoming stuck, the Piranha’s metal jaws had stopped working.
Razor blinked, taking a step back. “Aw, crud…!”
The worm’s brows knitted in fury, and it shook its head back and forth wildly in an attempt to dislodge the missile, then stopped, glared down at Razor, and reared back, preparing to spit acid at him, throat bulging and swelling. Splorch! The acid hit the Piranha Missile inside the tube, and, although it did actually begin melting it, it wasn’t quick enough.
Razor watched in disgusted horror as the worm’s face bulged outward like an inflating balloon and then popped, shooting torrents of the corrosive glop every which way. Some of it headed for him, but he deployed the expanding shield from his Glovatrix, using it to protect himself as he ducked behind it. The acid splatted the shield, where it hissed and fizzed, but thankfully didn’t melt it.
After a moment, Razor peaked over the top of the shield. He saw the headless body of the giant worm lying on the ground a few feet away, surrounded by several bubbling puddles of acid. Smirking, he lowered the shield completely and it retracted back into its compartment in the Glovatrix.
“Thank goodness for acid-proof shields!” he said.
“Good job, buddy!” T-Bone congratulated him. He looked at the third mutated worm slithering its way across the park. “Two down, one to-”
He stopped short as he heard a sickly, insectlike buzzing noise, and then he and Razor turned towards the big hole in the ground the three monsters erupted from. The five Ci-Kat-A drones and a trio of winged Venus’ flytrap-like abominations – the “Venus Trap Flies” – came flying out like a swarm of locusts, followed by the three converted convicts and the Megakat Labs security guard, Steven.
“Spoke too soon, buddy!” Razor said. “Looks like our fan club is here for a visit!”
The SWAT Kats and their foes clashed! The two vigilantes focused primarily on the fully transformed Ci-Kat-A drones, the five created from the MASA guards and released from captivity, because they were the ones whose bite could convert more kats – including them if they weren’t careful! T-Bone fired some Mini Tarpedoes from his Glovatrix, hitting the first drone in the face. He flew down awkwardly and landed, struggling to wipe the drippy black glop from his face.
“Hi-yah!” Razor leaped in and kicked him in the stomach, knocking him down, where he lay on his back and flailed.
A Venus Trap Fly swooped down at Razor, and he ducked, allowing it to smack into another Ci-Kat-A – the one with the mustache. Whirling, fired a miniature “plain old missile,” which hit the winged insectoid-plant abomination, splattering it all over the Ci-Kat-A. The mustached former guard wiped the bug guts off of himself and, with a hissing rasp, launched himself at Razor, trying to bite him. He and Razor rolled around on the ground.
Meanwhile, T-Bone was going hand to hand. He punched Steven in the face, then grabbed his arm, flipping himself over backwards, sending the converted guard flying. Steven smacked into the Ci-Kat-A who had the tar all over his face, bowling him and the convict with the scar over.
He turned and found himself attacked by one of the bug-eyed convicts, who grabbed a bolted down park bench, lifting it with superhuman effort, muscles straining as he tore it loose. Growling, he swung it at T-Bone. The burly SWAT Kat leaped back, and was seized from behind by another drone, whose salivating mandibles prepared to sink into his neck.
But, T-Bone was inadvertently saved when the convict, yelling, swung the bench again. Right as he did so, T-Bone fell to his hands and knees with the drone on his back. The bench smacked the ex-MASA guard off of the SWAT Kat’s back, and then T-Bone leaped up and swung one leg, sweeping the convict’s feet out from under him. The convict dropped the bench and hit the ground. T-Bone leaped onto him and brought his elbow down hard on his head, knocking him unconscious.
Whirling as the drone got up, he launched a Bola Missile, which handily tied the flailing kat-insect to the trunk of a nearby tree. “Ha! Gotcha!” he cried, smirking. “Stick around, ugly!”
“T-Bone!” Razor yelled.
T-Bone turned and saw Razor still struggling with the mustached Ci-Kat-A. Assuming a firing stance, he fired another Bola Missile, which snagged the transformed kat, knocking him off of Razor. He flailed around, tied up. Razor got up and a single punch rendered the tied up Ci-Kat-A unconscious, and then he and T-Bone high-fived one another.
The heard more sickly buzzing, and more Venus Trap Flies swooped down at them. Suddenly, high-powered laser fire ripped in, shredding the insect-plants into lumpy, sticky glop, and the SWAT Kats turned to see a squadron of Enforcer choppers flying in. They began saturating the park with smoke bombs to confuse the Ci-Kat-A and Venus Trap Flies, some of whom fell flailing to the ground, coughing and sputtering like bugs who’d been sprayed with insecticide.
“Looks like the cavalry got here just in time for once,” said T-Bone, giving a thumbs up to the choppers as they went by overheard, he and Razor putting their oxygen masks on to breathe more easily in the smoke.
Nearby, Callie Briggs was racing headlong across the grass. Mayor Manx’s chauffeur was running ahead of her, while a huffing and puffing Manx brought up the rear, holding on to his toupee, sweat stains visible under the arms of his golf sweater. The third giant grub worm was doggedly pursuing them.
One of the choppers hovered above, and a rescue ladder was dropped. The chauffeur reached it first and scrambled up, followed quickly by Callie.
She turned and yelled at the panting and sweating Manx, who had fallen dangerously behind. “Mayor, come on!”
“I ca… n’t…” wheezed Manx. “C-Callie, go on without me… I’m done for!”
Spluttering like a deflating whooppee cushion, the exhausted Mayor fell down, grabbing one of the lower rungs. Callie reached down and pulled him up by the arm, straining with the effort, wishing Manx would go on a diet. Turning, Manx saw the giant worm approaching, shrieked, and began climbing so fast he almost overtook Callie. To avoid being knocked off by his flailing, Callie was forced to release Manx’s sleeve and climb up faster.
The chopper began lifting higher now that Manx was on. The worm’s acid-dripping mandibles grabbed the end of the dangling ladder, a few rungs below Manx’s golf cleats. It yanked, attempting to jerk the entire chopper down from the sky. On the ladder, Callie, Manx and the chauffeur all screamed as they were whipped around wildly, the chopper straining, its engine audibly whining with the effort. Inside, Commander Feral strained at the controls.
Suddenly, the acid ate through the section of the ladder the worm was biting onto, and it snapped loose of its own accord. The three kats held on as the chopper jerked free and climbed higher, avoiding a torrent of the corrosive liquid sprayed after it in impotent anger. Once the aircraft was steady, the chauffeur got safely aboard, followed by Callie and finally a thoroughly worn out Manx.
Feral swooped around, firing at the giant worm. It roared and sprayed more acid at him. Feral yanked at the controls, dodging, causing the chopper to yaw and pitch uncontrollably. Callie and the chauffeur cried out as they were flung to one side. They steadied themselves with one hand on the wall.
Manx, yelping, grabbed at the back of Feral’s seat. “Feral, fly this thing steady!” he demanded.
“Mr. Mayor, that’s difficult when giant monsters are attacking!” Commander Feral snapped back, continuing to wrestle with the controls.
Callie was a little more appreciative. “Thank goodness you got here, Commander!” she said, relieved.
“Don’t worry, Ms. Briggs,” said Feral confidently. “The Enforcers can take care of that hideous monster!”
He lowered his targeting visor and fired, sending a missile which hit the monster dead center, exploding it violently into thick mushy goo. Some of it splattered the windshield. Feral righted the aircraft, steadying it, and Manx’s eyes rolled back into his head at the sight of all the viscera oozing down the windshield.
His chauffeur, sensing he was about to faint, moved to catch him. “It’s okay, sir!” he said. “I’ve got you! Fall into my arms!”
But, Manx was too heavy and simply slipped through the chauffeur’s arms and thudded to the floor of the cargo bay. Thunk!
Outside, another Enforcer chopper, piloted by King, landed near the SWAT Kats, and Felina Feral and a group of Enforcer commandos leaped out.. including none other than Gray Taylor! To T-Bone and Razor’s surprise, the Enforcer rookie was back to normal. And, he looked mad!
Although some of the Enforcers were armed with their standard laser rifles, a majority were packing unusual weapons – single shot gas-propelled dart guns. They ran up and took positions on either side of the SWAT Kats, loaded their weapons with feathered darts filled with a kind of greenish liquid. T-Bone and Razor looked confused.
“How come you’re back to normal?” Razor asked Gray Taylor.
“No time for that!” replied the rookie.
“What’s that stuff, Lieutenant?” asked T-Bone, indicating the liquid in the darts.
“Watch and see!” Felina replied with a smirk.
Snapping the dart compartment of her weapon shut with a click, Felina took aim at one of the onrushing converted convicts. With a soft hiss of expelled gas, she fired a dart of the green liquid, which stuck into the con’s chest. He was flung back. With a yell of pain, he flopped around on the ground, eyes squeezed shut, and T-Bone and Razor watched in amazement as he reverted to normal. His wriggling ceased, and, with a gasp, he opened his eyes to reveal that they were normal feline eyes again. His conversion had been reversed by whatever it was Felina just injected into him.
Steven got up and rushed at them.
“Look out!” Felina cried.
Beside her, Gray whirled and fired. The dart hit the bug-eyed security guard in the neck. He plucked it out, but then fell to the ground, contorting in agony, and they watched as his green compound eyes slowly transformed back into his original kat ones. Rising, he looked extraordinarily confused. He and the once again normal con were quickly overtaken by the commandos, who escorted them to the waiting chopper.
“I don’t believe it!” cried Razor. “You found a way to reverse the effects of the bite!”
“Let’s see if it’ll work on these guys,” Gray said, pointing to the drone who was tied to the tree.
Snarling, he flexed his sticklike arms with surprising strength and snapped the bonds of the Bola Missile, and hopped down, rushing at the group with clawed hands outstretched. Slipping a dart into the chamber of his weapon, Gray snapped it shut, aimed and fired. The dart imbedded itself into the segmented underbelly.
The Ci-Kat-A promptly backed up, emitting a shrill shriek of pain. The sound of crunching bones and squishing organs filled the air as he began to slowly and painfully transform back into an ordinary kat. His wings and segmented body parts disappeared, arms and legs thickening, becoming more muscular, antennae receding into his forehead, his mouth slowly changing shape, the mandibles retracting into nonexistence, and, as he underwent this change, his voice became less and less monstrous until it became an ordinary feline moan, and then the now perfectly normal, albeit naked, kat fell to his hands and knees, head bowed, shaking and panting.
“It’s a miracle…!” said Razor. There was no other word for it.
The MASA guard, returned to normal, slowly raised his head, blinking his eyes. “Ahh…” he moaned. “Wh-where am I?”
“Safe,” said Felina, motioning to her commandos, who got a blanket to drape over the guard’s naked body. He was led to the chopper.
Grimly, she turned and fired a dart into the mustached Ci-Kat-A with the same results. She smiled as he too reverted back to his original self, naked, and looking extremely confused about where he was and what had happened to him. He had only a vague and foggy memory of Dr. Street wearing sunglasses and wanting to show him a “surprise.” He too was given a blanket and helped into the chopper.
Throughout the park, teams of Enforcers were exiting from their landed aircraft and using the dart guns to shoot both the convicts and MASA guards, repeating the process, whittling the Ci-Kat-A army down to nothing methodically. Soon, every single converted kat would be restored to normal. As for the Venus Trap Flies, they were dealt with using regular firearms, blasted apart with well-aimed laser shots.
Feral’s chopper circled the park and finally landed near where the SWAT Kats and Felina were standing. The engine cut out and the rotor blades begin winding down as Callie hopped out and ran to where the SWAT Kats are, embracing them.
“Boy, am I glad that’s over!” she said.
But, Razor was apprehensive. “Something tells me that wasn’t the end of it. Where’s Street?”
He went to the big hole the insect army came out of, peering down. There was nothing but blackness. Despite this, Razor wasn’t particularly relieved.
Callie gently touched his arm. “I’m glad you guys showed up when you did,” she said.
Meanwhile, T-Bone grinned and slapped Felina on the back as the two observed the now once again normal kats being tended to. The three escaped convicts were being handcuffed, so relieved to be normal again that they were not even resisting, while Steven and the five MASA guards were being given medical attention. Everyone seemed to be okay.
“How’d your Enforcer lab boys manage this, Lieutenant?” asked T-Bone.
Felina frowned a little. “We had a little help from an unlikely source.”
T-Bone and Razor exchanged glances. Hearing another chopper approaching, they turned and watched it land. The door slid open, disgorging a thoroughly enraged Dr. Viper in handcuffs and attendant commandos guarding him with laser rifles.
“Viper?!” cried both SWAT Kats at the same time.
“You foolsss!” Dr. Viper hissed, tail lashing. “I told you, thisss was only a dissstraction!”
“Distraction or not, we weren’t about to just let the park get attacked, slimeball,” Felina told him.
She turned and looked at the confused SWAT Kats.
“A case of ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend,'” she explained. “Viper agreed to give us the antidote to the Ci-Kat-A bite that was already in his bloodstream in return for us stopping Street. Dr. Konway cured Corporal Taylor successfully as a test.”
She clapped Gray on the shoulder. “And, it worked,” he said. “I feel like a million bucks.”
“Once that was out of the way, we just flew on over here.”
Viper was impatient. “You have to ssstop Sssstreet before he ruins everything!”
“Wha-? Stop Street?” T-Bone eyed Viper. “What’s goin’ on?”
“He’sss going to attack the Megakat Nuclear Plant!” Viper said. “The fate of all of Megakat Cccity is at ssstake!”
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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.