Warnings: I’ll get back to you on that one.
Sage’s Comments: Duuuuuuu’h… Which way did he go, Modad? Which way did he go? ::dizzy::
Modad’s Comments: …………..
The Pastmaster sat in the Telecommunications office, pondering just where the SWAT Kats were. It had been days since he’d carried out his threat, and not even the Enforcers had bothered to show up. He sighed….and then realized that he had forgotten just what his big threatening plan was.
“Darn my short term memory,” he said aloud. He got up from his chair and began to wander around the facility, and then abruptly and rather inexplicably he found himself in a TV studio being shoved up onto a stage. There was an audience cheering and an obnoxiously loud host speaking out.
“Welcome to Megalomania! MKC’s newest gameshow! Let’s meet our contestants.”
The Pastmaster blinked as he saw Dark Kat and Dr. Viper at their respective podiums, with himself being shoved in front of another.
“What infernal spell *is* this?!” He demanded. “What’re YOU TWO doing here?!” he added, directing his attention towards the other two villains.
“It was part of our sentencsssse,” Viper replied. “We get tortured mercilessly in front of the very people we’re ssssssupposed to conquer.”
“Oh come now, Viper,” Dark Kat said. “You’re just saying that because *I* always win.”
“Let’s introduce today’s contestants,” the show host continued. “Firstly, our returning champion has already shaved 150 years off his sentence. Pretty soon the city is going to owe him time. Give it up for Dark Kat!”
The crowds all boo’d and threw miscellaneous items at the evil kat. Dark Kat seemed to revel in it as he reached into his cloak and pulled out a remote with a button on it. The crowds all gasped and quickly shut up.
“Second, his slithery opponent, that lizard of list, that snakey, sneaky, snickering, sadistic…”
“They get the idea!” Viper shouted.
“Thirdly, that mystical, magical, mysterious, mundane, mischievous, marvelous, masterminding, mummy moving…”
“If he says what I think he’s going to say…,” the Pastmaster said under his breath.
“…miniature, microscopic, *midget*, the Pastmaster!”
“I hate mortals… immensely,” murmured the Pastmaster.
“Let’s get on with our show!” stated the host. “What’s on today’s list, Jim?”
“On today’s list, we got-”
“Darnit Jim! I’m a doctor not a game show contestant!” Dr. Viper cut in.
“Marsha!” shouted the host, revealing a muscled she-kat standing about four feet above the other villains.
The villains inched back.
“Marsha used to be a bouncer,” explained the host. “Make me unhappy and you make her unhappy.”
“She looks like a female version of you,” Dr. Viper whispered to Dark Kat with a smile. Dark Kat merely shot Viper a look of disgust.
Marsha abruptly burst out crying.
“Awww. You insulted her!” shouted the host.
“HOW?!” demanded Viper.
“You called her fat! Shame on you!”
Viper snickered as he raised his hand.
“What is it?” the host asked, obviously annoyed.
“Sssssince that was evil of me, do I get bonus points?”
Marsha wasn’t amused. Instead, she grabbed Viper by the neck.
“Alright alright! I’ll be good!” Viper stated.
Marsha obviously didn’t understand that much English.
“You insulted Marrrrsha!” she shouted, her voice in a strict German accent. “Do you not like Marrrrsha?!”
“Arrr! This is getting tiresome!” the Pastmaster shouted, as he took out his watch and zapped Marsha with it. She glowed with the crimson light of the miniature necromancer’s magic, and transformed into a gorilla in a bathing suit. The Pastmaster then took out a banana.
“Here monkey monkey, go get banana! Yum!” the Pastmaster said as he threw it out the nearest door.
“Can we get on with the show?!” the host shouted.
“Don’t rush me!” the Pastmaster shouted back, raising his watch threateningly.
The host showed no sign of flinching and instead pressed a button. The Pastmaster was stripped of everything save for his cape.
“Gah! My watch!” the Pastmaster shouted, then noticed a slight breeze as he pulled the podium closer to himself.
“Don’t worry, lack of pantssss never sssstopped me from being evil,” Viper proudly proclaimed.
“Same here,” Dark Kat concurred.
“Let’s get started with… NAME that Law Enforcement Person!”
The crowed roared with excitement.
“Here’s your first question. This Enforcer is Commander of the Enforcers.”
A theme oddly similar to that of Jeopardy began to play as Dark Kat pressed his buzzer first.
“Who is Commander Feral?”
“I’m sorry, you must answer the question, not ask another one,” the host stated.
“But I thought-”
Viper pressed his buzzer. “Isss that Commander Feral?”
“NOT another question!” shouted the host.
Pastmaster pressed his own. “What in the world is an Enforcer?!”
“Sorry, you’re all wrong. Next Question: What is the answer to this problem?”
The equation 10X10000000000 appeared before them. Dark Kat buzzed in first.
“Wrong, any others?” the host asked.
Dr. Viper buzzed in with a wicked smile.
“Dark Kat’s weight?”
Dark Kat was obviously not amused.
“That is incorrect!” he shouted. “I’m the double of what equation states!”
“Yeah, all fifty states,” Dr. Viper chuckled.
“Shall we continue?” demanded the aggravated host.
The contestants didn’t protest as the host began anew.
“Next subject: Articles of Clothing. What form of clothing is traditionally worn around the legs and lower midsection?”
Dark Kat and Dr. Viper both gave perplexed expressions as the Pastmaster fumed in anger.
“Pants! Which is what I need!”
“That is correct!” shouted the host.
“Here’s your prize!” the host continued. A pair of pink zebra pants soon descended from the ceiling and landed on the Pastmaster’s head.
It wasn’t what he’d had in mind, but anything was better than the breeze the Pastmaster was experiencing. He threw on the zebra pants as fast as he could.
“Very stylish,” Dark Kat commended.
“A real trend sssssetter,” Viper agreed.
“Shut up,” the Pastmaster replied.
“We’ll be back after these messages,’ the host said to the camera, before running off stage to pop a couple of aspirin.
T-Bone was nearly out of breath by the time he and Razor’d reached the hangar.
Razor sat on T-Bone’s shoulders as the larger SWAT Kat labored up to the entrance, panting and perspiring. Razor yawned.
“Boy, was that ever tiring.”
“I hate you.”
Razor hopped down and slumped into the only available seat in the hangar.
“Ah, sooooo good to be home again. I was starting to get worried after the whole 17 minutes we spent in jail.”
“Oh, like rapping wasn’t scary enough?” T-Bone demanded as he stripped off his mask and helmet.
“You’re the one who wanted to rap! I specifically warned against it.”
“It was the only way to get outta there alive!”
“I’m sure the big obvious door marked “Exit” wasn’t an option,” Razor remarked dryly.
“I was desperate!”
“Too desperate to just turn the knob and walk out???”
“Something doesn’t seem right,” Razor mused as an idea came to mind. He then held up four fingers. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
“Uh…” T-Bone began, then hesitated. He squinted as hard as he could, trying his best to see Razor’s paw only two feet away. “Uh, three?”
“I knew it!” Razor exclaimed. “You need glasses!”
“Oh, I think you do, Chance,” Razor said as he patted him on the shoulder. “It’s okay, buddy.”
T-Bone grumbled. “There are three. The thumb doesn’t count assa finger.”
Razor reached behind his back and took aim at T-Bone’s face with a large bazooka.
“Sorry, Chance, but it’s for your own good.”
“What the! Wait, don’t-” T-Bone began, and Razor pulled the trigger.
Expecting the worst the larger SWAT Kat closed his eyes, and when he opened them again the world seemed a bit different.
“Ah, my vision corrector device works like a charm,” Razor said proudly.
Running over to a mirror T-Bone shrieked in horror as he saw a pair of the absolute largest bifocals that he had ever seen stuck on his face. He scratched at them, trying desperately to claw them off.
“No can do, buddy. These things could latch onto Volcanus and not come off. Special agracite bands that are essentially super-glued, duct taped, and pasted to your cranium.”
“Razor!” T-Bone screamed. “Get these things off!”
“Uh well, that’s the problem….”
“I haven’t quite figured that one out yet.”
“No, I’m sorry, the correct answer is not “you’re a stupid idiot and I will skin you alive when I get my watch back,” anyone else?”
The Pastmaster was growing frustrated. “I’ll KILL YOU!”
Dark Kat buzzed in.
“No, I’m sorry, but wrong again. Dr. Viper, do you have an answer?”
“Yes! The answer to 1 + 1 is 2!” Viper said, clearly exasperated.
The Pastmaster sighed, trying hard to remember his mission. WHAT… WAS… HE… SUPPOSED… TO…. DO!
All those lights, those cameras, those annoying talk show hosts…wait! That’s it! The Pastmaster cackled evilly as he remembered his ultimate goal.
“Now I remember what I’m supposed to do!” The Pastmaster shouted as he leapt up and stood on his podium. “I’m going to steal all of your shoes!!!!!”
The audience got quiet rather quickly as an uncomfortable silence followed.
“Uh, don’t got any,” Dark Kat admitted.
“Same here,” Viper concurred.
The Pastmaster slapped his forehead in frustration.
“I don’t care anymore!!!! How about I just go with the usual ‘destroy the city’ routine? ANY OBJECTIONS????”
Dark Kat and Dr. Viper thought it over for a second then replied.
“Nope, not really.”
“Sssounds good to me.”
With that, the Pastmaster cackled evilly once again.
“You foolish mortals!” The Pastmaster proclaimed as he reached into his cape and withdrew a limited edition ‘Pastmaster’s Watch, With Sound Effects!'(c) from his cape. Still in the plastic packaging he struggled for a moment as he tried to open it.
“Stupid packaging,” he muttered as he finally opened it. Sliding it two Double A batteries, he lifted it above his head. “Prepare to meet your doom!”
The watch came to life, opening a time vortex in the sky.
However, the batteries soon died down, taking the vortex along with them.
“Curses!!!” screamed the Pastmaster.
“Shoulda used Energisssssser,” Viper stated.
“GRRRRR!” The Pastmaster growled as he began to foam at the mouth. Then, remembering something, he lunged at Dark Kat, taking the criminal mastermind’s remote and pressing the button.
“Hey!” Dark Kat exclaimed, then began to get teary-eyed. “I’m supposed to be the one who gets to press the button.”
Pastmaster simply cackled. “We’ll see what the button does!”
And, nothing happened.
The Pastmaster blinked. “What’s wrong with this thing?!”
“Gah!?” Dr. Viper shouted rather abruptly. “My 3 hairs!” the mad scientist shouted, his limited amount of head hair ablaze. He ran wildly in circles, trying to put it out.
“I was going to hold Viper’s hair hostage,” Dark Kat explained.
Pastmaster couldn’t believe his ears. “WHAT?! And you call yourself an arch nemesis?!”
Viper continued to run in circles and scream in the background as Dark Kat spoke.
“Are you questioning my level of evilness?” Dark Kat asked.
“Yes, I am!” Pastmaster shot back.
“My hair!” Viper shouted as he dove into the nearest restroom and plunged his head into a toilet, causing the flames to go out. “Ah….,” Viper sighed in relief.
“Very well, Pastmaster. If it is a challenge you want, then it is a crushing defeat that you will receive.”
“Only if you sit on me,” the Pastmaster muttered under his breath.
“What was that?! Fine!” At that, Dark Kat tore off his garments, revealing boxer shorts. With that, he took the stance of a sumo wrestler.
“HAI!” he shouted.
The Pastmaster blinked as he loooooooooked up at the opponent that stood before him. Before he even had a chance to prepare, Dark Kat charged at him with more force than a freight train, smashing him into the wall, then through the wall, then into another wall, and through that wall winding up outside.
As he slowly regained consciousness a few moments later, the Pastmaster dug himself out of a small pile of media debris and clambered to his feet.
“HAI!” shouted Dark Kat once again. “I smash Midget!”
The Pastmaster growled in rage, and, using god-like strength, he rushed up at Dark Kat and pressed him above his head! In one swift motion, the Pastmaster spun the large megalomaniac in circles above his head and threw him into a nearby building, causing it to collapse.
Struggling out of the debris, Dark Kat shot back up to his feet and gazed in shock at the midget creature before him.
“How did you become so strong?”
The Pastmaster seemed to glow with a golden aura as he stood before Dark Kat, panting and perspiring in rage. His normally white hair had transformed to a brightly shining, spiky and long yellow/goldish style. Realization dawned, and Dark Kat began to get nervous.
“Oh no. The anger and frustration has caused the Pastmaster to go Super Feline!”
“Yes!” shouted the Pastmaster. “Now I shall power up for another 30 minutes whilst I scream threats about how I’m gonna blow you up!”
“Oh no!” Dark Kat shouted in pure horror.
The Pastmaster then clenched his fists as he screamed a deep throaty scream. The air around him surged and his golden aura seemed to expand.
Dr. Viper pulled at his charred three hairs. “NOOOO!!! I cannot be ssssssssstuck in a Dragon Ball Z plot!”
The host simply sighed. “We’ll be back after these messages.”
After multiple hours of sawing, cutting, clawing, scratching, laser torching, and even face planting T-Bone could not get the ominous optical “specs” off his face.
His patience was coming to an end.
“RAZOR!” he screamed. “Take these things off…. NOW!”
“I can’t!” Razor said.
Abruptly, the two were interrupted as the Klaxon began to blare.
“It’s Callie!” T-Bone shouted as he ran up to the Klaxon. He just as soon ran past it and into a wall. “Darn these glasses!”
Razor blinked. “Odd… I coulda sworn they made you see better…”
T-Bone slowly pulled himself up off of the ground as he picked up the receiver.
“SWAT Kats, we break it you buy it.”
“T-Bone? It’s Callie! The Pastmaster and Dark Kat are fighting amongst themselves outside of MegaKat Telecommunications!”
“We’re on our way, Ms. Briggs!” T-Bone said, then paused. “Hey, Callie, did anything uh…unusual happen today?”
“As a matter of fact it did. I must’ve fallen down the stairs or something because I-” Callie began, but was cut off as T-Bone hung up the receiver.
“Ooooookay, well, maybe I wasn’t dreaming after all,” T-Bone said.
“I TOLD you we shoulda been more cautious,” Razor muttered.
“Hush, Razor. We got more important things to worry about now. Like transportation…,” T-Bone pondered aloud.
“Awww, Chance. I don’t want to ride the bus to the crime scene again. It’s so embarrassing.”
“Can’t you do something about it?” T-Bone asked.
Razor scratched his chin in thought, and then a light bulb visibly turned on above his head. “I got it!” Razor nearly shouted as he reached into that magical place behind his back and withdrew what looked like a deflated life raft.
“An inflatable Turbokat.”
“WHAT?!” T-Bone couldn’t believe his ears. “NO! I’m NOT going through THAT again.”
Razor pulled the rip cord as the bundle expanded and inflated itself into a full-sized working replica of the SWAT Kats famed jet. Hopping into the WSO seat Razor brought the systems online.
“C’mon buddy! We don’t got much time to waste!”
“Razor…” T-Bone began.
“T-Bone, Dark Kat and the Pastmaster are gettin’ it on in a parking lot somewhere,” Razor further emphasized. “They’re fighting EACH OTHER as opposed to fighting us!”
“Yeah…Hey! They’re cuttin’ us out of the loop! Oh, that makes me mad,” T-Bone growled.
But, as he was about to take off, he realized what he was about to say to Razor before being interrupted.
“Yeah… we COULD get there… IF the throttle weren’t made outta rubber, too!”
“Improvise,” Razor said plainly. T-Bone sighed as he looked around, then got an idea.
“Fine, I’ll ‘compromise’.”
“I said *improvise*,” Razor returned.
“Whatever,” T-Bone replied as he reached back and poked a hole in the back of the jet. The result was instantaneous as the two were sent rocketing forward out of the hangar and into the sky, heading towards the battle of the Pastmaster and Dark Kat.
“Yes, see it all in the next part of ISP. The tyrannical terror of terrifying tyranny, Dark Kat, fights the supah feline necromancer of post-neo-vertically-challenged-ness, the Pastmaster! See it SUNDAY SUNDAY SUNDAY on Pay-per view!” the narrator’s voice abruptly cut in.
TO BE CONTINUED
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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.