SWAT Kats is a trademark of Hanna-Barbera and a creation of Christian and Yvon Tremblay. Anything else with a trademark is owned by that trademark or is my character, which is featured on my fanfiction page at www.fanfiction.net, pen name Leo the Tiger.
It was no surprise, at least to those who knew about it, that the inventions of Razor all came from scraps Burke and Murray left on their doorstep. But, what would happen if Burke and Murray did find out that even the Turbokat came out of scraps? According to Razor, “They’d cough up a hairball!” Indeed. Who would not be amazed at the genius behind such a talent? Even Commander Feral was impressed when he found out about it on the day he made peace with the SWAT Kats and, in a private meeting with them, finally, as he put it, “Found out who they really are. I regret doing so because they were once my troops. I have seen the error of my ways in telling them to back off and leave Dark Kat to me. While their disobedience deserved what it deserved, the blame really goes to me for that act.”
One rainy morning, Burke and Murray came by with another load for Chance and Jake to manage. As before, the duo had no idea about the real identities of the two mechanics as the SWAT Kats, so, naturally, Burke taunted, “Miss flying, you losers? Maybe I can put you back in the air.”
“I got a better idea,” Chance shot back. “Why don’t we put you in the air?”
Knowing what that meant, Burke paused, then said to Murray, “I got no response to that! You?”
“Nope,” said Murray, suddenly feeling paranoid. “Frankly, my brother, I don’t give a dang about it. Better get out of here before Commander Feral spots us. I think he knows something about them we don’t and shouldn’t or else we’ll go to the electric chair for knowing too much!” Burke stepped on the accelerator and hustled out of the yard.
“What’s he so paranoid about?” Chance asked Jake.
“I don’t know,” said Jake, “but I think it’s something to do with the fact one of the biggest crimes, regardless of the punishment, is unmasking a superhero. Commander Feral and the others who witnessed it, plus Grimalken since he was informed about it, are let off the hook, and they’re not revealing it.”
“What worries me is that Ann Gora, a news reporter, also saw the act, as did her cameraman and chopper pilot.”
“Don’t worry about it, Chance; they’re not talking either. They got more important things to report.”
“I guess you’re right. But, look at what they left us this time. I think this abandoned cylinder here, with a few modifications, will fit great in Callie’s car since she said it needed a new one.”
“And, I think I found a new computer with these parts. Hmmm. It’s an Amiga. I remember having one of those, but I sold it before I became an Enforcer. Of course, that turned out to be a fraudulent deal of Dark Kat’s scheming, and as a result of that, I kept all the games. This will be great for one of those days where there isn’t anything to do but that, but I have a feeling that won’t happen too often with our jobs and our duties as the SWAT Kats and as members of Konway’s Korps—oh, and our rock band, too.”
“I see what you mean, Jake. Once you get it all hooked up, why don’t you show me some of those games? I think I remember the computer, too, but I had a Commodore 64, not an Amiga. Or isn’t the Amiga by Commodore?”
“It is, and the Amiga has far superior graphics and sound quality. Sure, I’ll show you a couple of them.”
“Great.” Chance turned to sort out some more of the junk from the mess Burke and Murray left behind.
The next day, Jake had just finished hooking up his Amiga and making sure it worked properly when the alarm went off.
“This is what I was talking about,” he told Chance as he ran to respond to the alarm. “Duty first.” He pushed the button to stop the buzzer. “Yes, Miss Briggs?”
“Hi, Razor,” came Callie’s voice from the other end of the line. “I wasn’t positive, but I think it’s Dr. Viper and his mutants who are responsible for the mess. Whoever it is, they’re dumping trash all over the place, and it’s hypnotizing innocent civilians and turning them into goons serving the purposes of the villain. Since you revealed your other identities to Commander Feral and to some others, including me, I know about your junk yard duties, but I doubt your scrap yard can hold all the trash.”
“Don’t worry, Miss Briggs; we’re on our way!” Chance replied, running to his locker and grabbing his flight suit.
Soon, he was flying his beloved Turbokat high in the sky as the mighty T-Bone, and Jake was once again in command of the weaponry and arsenal as Razor.
Feral, using one of Razor’s new inventions coming out of the scraps he used in the yard, was shielding his sedan from incoming trash attacks with a force field and clearing away some of the trash in the streets. The Sergeant rode alongside him since Felina was piloting a helicopter to ward off air attacks with her fellow Enforcers. Lenny Ringtail, now the police detective for the Enforcers, decided to go with Felina.
“First time in a helicopter?” she asked him.
“It is,” he said. “Not sure I could handle one of those fighter jets right now, but I suppose once I got in shape for it, I could. What could be causing all the trash?”
“Miss Briggs thinks it’s Dr. Viper. It’s the only logical choice, really; it’s not Dark Kat, Hard Drive, or even Hard Drive’s twin, because all three have repented of their sins.”
“I didn’t think Hard Drive’s twin would ever repent. At least it was a case of walking amnesia. Huh. That happened to an outlaw that cowboy known as Nickelback Nathan was fighting not too long ago. It must be contagious.”
“Must be.” Felina dodged another attack although got an unwelcome substance on her windshield, prompting Lenny to wipe it off with the windshield wipers. “Hey, I smell chemicals,” she reacted.
Lenny took another smell. “That’s Katalyst X-63, the one Dr. Viper’s been stealing from Megakat Biochemical Labs all these months! Now we know it’s his doing!”
“Better warn my uncle. We can’t let him get over it.”
“Roger.” Lenny turned the communications link over to Feral’s sedan.
“This is Feral,” Feral began.
“Commander, it’s Lenny. I’m in Lt. Feral’s chopper, and we just had to wipe Katalyst X-63 off the windshield. This is proof Dr. Viper’s the crook behind it. Don’t let it get you if you can help it.”
“Thanks for the warning,” Feral replied. “The Sergeant and I shall take that precaution. In the meantime, do you have any way to inform the SWAT Kats about this? I’m having trouble removing all this trash anyway. At least I’m able to get it to the scrap yard where their alter-egos work, plus the Dark SWAT Kats if I remember telling them to work with the SWAT Kats.”
“I think you did, yes. I can alert them for you.”
“Then do that. Feral out.”
The link broke off, and Lenny switched frequencies so the SWAT Kats would hear his voice.
“This is T-Bone,” T-Bone began when the signal came into the Turbokat.
“This is Lenny Ringtail. Lt. Feral and I determined this is Dr. Viper’s work because our senses of smell ever so accurately detected traces of Katalyst X-63. If there’s anything Dr. Konway can do to reverse this problem like he did before, we’ll enlist his help. If not, it’s all on you, I’m afraid.”
“We’ll try not to let you down,” Razor replied. “Miss Briggs had a hunch it was Dr. Viper, and she was correct after all.”
The link broke off, and Razor switched the Turbokat’s functions into another creation of his that took to the streets and found a way to recycle the trash it picked up so that the streets were as clean as ever and gleaming like the streets of Hollywood said to be paved with gold. Before long, Megakat City was thriving again, with no trash at all.
Having put on a ton of deodorant, Captain Grimalken had been sitting down next to an air conditioner to help purify the air in his house after the trash left. As soon as it was appropriate to do so, he began cleaning some of his prized possessions, including—you guessed it—his electric guitar and amplifier speakers. He hooked everything up, then struck a few chords to make sure it worked.
Just then, Dr. Viper came into view, outside in the Captain’s front yard. “What is happening, my little creatures?” he asked in disgust. “Why don’t you enjoy the right to roam free in my swamp city? And, what am I doing here? I should’ve been at Enforcer H.Q. hours ago!”
This was an indication Dr. Viper’s plans were to ultimately trash Enforcer H.Q. and make all the officers and other Enforcers into mutant soldiers. But to no avail.
“Get off my property, you creep!” Grimalken shouted in anger as he stepped outside to get the mail.
“Who are you?” Dr. Viper exclaimed, having never seen Grimalken.
“Who am I? The world’s mightiest guitar hero, that’s who!” Grimalken grabbed his guitar, turned the volume to its maximum, then struck an A major chord.
Dr. Viper, obviously not expecting this, reacted to the sound negatively and started somewhat to lose his sanity and his ability to control his tolerance for such noise.
“Such bothersome noise!” he screamed. “You stop that now!”
“Not until you give up!” the Captain struck back, striking another chord and beginning another round of improvisation. The citizens who lived close by, who had been shielding their ears, stopped to watch their favorite rock star perform as Dr. Viper cried his eyes out. By then, the Turbokat was back in fighter jet mode, and T-Bone was noticing it.
“Hey, buddy,” he called. “Looks like the Captain did it again.”
“Probably because Viper’s mutants took a wrong turn at the corner of 7th and Main,” Razor replied. “I witnessed it on the radar. Get ready; I’m about to grab him with the hitch.”
“Roger!” T-Bone flew the Turbokat closer to the streets, and Razor activated the hitch.
In an instant, Viper was caught in the net, flown back to Enforcer H.Q., and thrown in solitary through a duct.
While on patrol, Lt. Vanderbilt, one of Feral’s troops, watched Viper fall through the duct and land in the solitary confinement cell. “Those brats have foiled my plans again!” he said to the officer. “And, just when I was winning, too!”
“Well, play it cool,” Lt. Vanderbilt replied, “and the judge just might let you out of the cooler soon on good behavior. Like, say, 75 years from now.” He chuckled at his own joke as he left the area and returned to the main floor of H.Q., then radioed to Feral that the SWAT Kats had dumped the villain into solitary for him. “Do you mind?” he asked.
“Oh, not at all, Lt.,” Feral replied. “The SWAT Kats are great heroes to cheer for. I know you think I’d be angry they’re doing my job for me, but I’m not that way anymore. In the meantime, report back to your patrol station. I have a side prisoner for you to escort, but this cat’s simply been speeding too many times.”
“Yes, sir!” Lt. Vanderbilt walked over to the front part of H.Q. where two other officers had arrested the speeder.
Back at the hangar, T-Bone and Razor had donned their normal identities of Chance and Jake again and added the victory to their count.
“Mission accomplished, Miss Briggs,” Chance reported. “Dr. Viper’s in solitary, and he’s not coming out, we hope.”
“Well, if he ever does, I know you can handle him. Thanks again.”
“Anytime.” Chance hung up the phone and went to his truck. “Hey, you want pizza tonight?”
“Sounds good to me, but isn’t tonight your night to pick up the latest issue of Kat Kommandos at Papa Perkins’ Comic Stop?” Jake asked as he got in the truck.
“It is; thanks for reminding me,” Chance replied. “What’s the one you’ve been reading?”
“Crossfire. It’s a sci-fi type of comic. There’s a new Western-themed one I’ve been wanting to read as well, and I think that’s out as well.”
“Okay, let’s take a look then.” Chance started up the car and headed for the comic stand, high-fiving Jake all the way. “Score another one for the SWAT Kats!” he smiled.
“And, many more to come, I’m sure,” Jake smiled back. “No stopping us now!”
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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.