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"You know what's the best thing about being the boss, Snivley?" Packbell said as he stood next to Snivley's bed. "You can sleep in late after a rough night, or go back to bed and start a day over, and not worry about getting your butt chewed out by someone like Ro-Butt-Nik. And I heard that things didn't go exactly as planned last night, as usual."

Snivley was groggy as he crawled out of bed. "Who the phrack let you in?"

"Oh, I came in through the vents, like any stinking Freedom Fighter. You know me, Boss. I'll always give you crap."

"You better believe that I'm the boss, and don't you ever phracking forget it!" Snivley got a cup of the usual crappy coffee and stood in front of a terminal. "Computer, run surveillance tape of last night. Filename: Crockett."

A video tape recording of a human with a robot left arm appearing from The Void was played. "It appears that another player has entered the game." Another monitor showed a snapshot of the human's head and whatever data it had on him at the time. It wasn't much: Just the who, Davey Crockett, and the why: Delivering a message to Princess Sally. "This has King Acorn's name written all over it. He must've known that Robotnik is gone somehow, so that he knew exactly when to send him. What's his game?"

Packbell turned to the playback and cringed. "Obviously hardball." He switched on the audio. "No, you fool! Not so early in th--"

Both were blasted with a Death Metal guitar lick which accompanied this particular scene in the tape:

[Sung in a fake-prosessed growl]
MY MISSION IN LIFE IS TO SEE YOU DIE, JAMNIT
I'M NOT YOUR SLAVE
I'M THE HARBINGER OF YOUR DEATH
I'M YOUR NOOSE--YOUR RAZOR BLADE-----
YOUR LETHAL INJECTION
I'M SENDING YOU BACK TO OZ, TIN MAN--
IN PIECES!!!

With his jetpack blowing flame behind him, Davey Crockett looked like the Avenging Angel as he charged a squad of six Swatbots head on, his eyes glowed an angry red so bright you can't see the eyeballs. Each hand held a rifle that he fired indiscriminately into his quarry. One shot removed a Swat head in a grotesque blossom of metal, oil, and circuitry. Another one got clipped by the knees, toppling it to the ground. A third got in the way of a decapitating clothesline.

Crockett landed on the just-crippled Bot with a gut-squishing stomp, sending upwards a geyser of oil that popped the top off like a cork. He growled at his fourth victim and pounced on top of it, knocking it down to the ground. He reached back with his robot arm and dove it right into the Swat's chest, grabbing its oil pump and ripping it out. Davey held the still-functioning robot 'heart' up like a trophy, then dropped it to get at the remaining two Swats.

He grabbed Swat #5 by the neck with his left hand and wrung that Swat around like a chicken, knocking #6 off a wall and into his right hand. A panel sprang out from underneath the left forearm and a metallic spear on a cord spat out, snaking around Davey's back and playing 'Alien' with #6 as #5's head fell off because it's neck was squeezed into the diameter of a toothpick.

Davey lifted #5 up high above his head, and with a scream that sounded like it came from Hell, he brought the Bot crashing into the camera.

COME ON, SAY IT------
ROBOTNIK SUCKS!!!!
I CAN'T HEAR YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!

The screen went to white noise for a few seconds before showing Davey's standing up to Mecha Sonic, and the subsequent breaking out with even more of the previously viewed carnage, but both Packbell and Snivley were still in shock . "Snivley, my man, that guy is a wacko. He's sick. He's out there like phracking Pluto. He is gone."

"Maybe. I think he's just a rookie punk out looking for respect. He needs to be knocked down some, that's for sure. <sighs> He's probably a Freedom Fighter by now, the Knothole scramblers won't let me pinpoint his location. It would be easier with that robot arm--"

An alarm sounded saying that Davey Crockett has been spotted outside of the great forest. "He's headed for Minoc Grove, and going as fast as Sonic!"

Snivley got an visual I.D. He took a double take at the large fox riding a hovercycle going 65mph, but the coontail cap and robot left arm was a dead giveaway.

"Nice fur coat, Crockett. How'd ya get the blood out?"