FoxFire Studios present: A Firestorm Brand Disney FanFict Mouse Worx Installment 2 By David Gonterman Jonathan Brisby and Storyline by David Gonterman Everything else is Copyrighted Material of The Walt Disney Company used primarily for Fan Fiction Purposes only. E-Mail David at dgonterman@aol.com and visit his FoxFire Studio Web Site at: http://users.aol.com/dgonterman ________________________________ "Hey JB, look at what got thrown into the weekly care package!" Gadget reaches into the box to pull out the familiar plastic package of-- "A Condom?!" Jonathan laughs, surprised that they would consider *this* to be a topic of discussion, but in these time of rampant diseases with three-letter names . . . "Why's *that* for?" "I think they heard about your love live. Guess the horse's out of the wagon, so to speak. . ." Jonathan just quietly stood up and gave an index folder to Gadget. "A record of my medical exam prior of my coming here. Note the test results of all known Sexually Transmitted Diseases." A quick scan not only showed that they are all Negative, but the words on the bottom practically scream: I CAN'T BELIEVE IT--THIS GUYS *STILL* *A* *VIRGIN!!!* Gadget returns to Jonathan with her eyes wide open. "Not expected for somebody who's been seen in bed with several dozen--" "H-How?" "Simple: I don't have to use 'it' to give 'it' to them." Jonathan took the file away. "Uncle Copper taught me a psychic technique from the Orient where I can mentally affect the five senses in a living body; sight, smell, touch, taste, and hearing. I can trick them in accepting faked input as real as if it's actually happening to them. It's usually used for ninjas and healers and such, but imagine what a preteen thought he could do with it when he found out what sex was about." "Golly, it makes condoms obsolete!!" "Yeah . . . I don't intend to try that anymore. Not when I'm in Disney, even if it just in FanFict form. I mean, I'm in a universe with a name synonymous with good, clean, wholesome family entertainment, for Pete's sake!" "You've obviously haven't met Ariel yet." "oooooo..." "Yeah, there's a lot of stuff you don't know about on the inside. We've got some stuff that'll put the National Enquirer to shame!!" "really?" "yeah . . . [A long pause in Gadget's head as she shows mixed thoughts, then] . . . er, JB, will you show me . . . how it works?" Jonathan raises an eyebrow. "Waaaaat?" "I don't mean . . ." Gadget looks down. " . . . *thaaat* . . . ick . . . I meant if you can do something . . . simpler . . ." "Oh, I see." Jonathan sat over the edge of the bed as Gadget reclines. With a finger, he tickles her foot. She crackled once loudly as her leg jerked away. 'We'll start with that, okay?" Gadget nodded. "Now then, I need you to relax now, clear your mind of any thoughts. Your mind must be completely blank in order for it to work the best." As Gadget closes her eyes and empties her head, Jonathan places two fingers on her forehead Vulcan-style. With his other hand, he presses his temples in concentration. Suddenly, Gadget's leg began to jerk again, and she crackled a lot more. She arches her back over her bed as the tickle-torture sensation causes her body to convulse. As quickly as the wave hit her, it passed over, allowing her to fall back into the mattress. Gadget's eyes open to find out that JB's hands could never reach that foot being tickled, because she swore that it was the *other* foot tickled, the one on the other side of the bed. She giggled. "Golly, that was a cool trick, JB . . . let's see you try it again, this time with my nose. I always wondered what Monty's cheese attacks feels like . . ." _____________________ Monterey and Mickey were caught completely unawares as Gadget storms into the kitchen with drool on her lips and lust in her eyes. She began to uncharacteristically devour a wedge of swiss right in Monty's hand and then continued with diving face first in the basket of Brie. "CRIKEY AND A HALF!!" Monty shouted when Gadget finally slumps on the table, licking her face for leftover diary products. "What on earth happened to you??" Mickey only humped and said one word to sum it up: "Puberty." Suddenly, a beeper can be heard. It was the one owned by Cartoon's Living Legend. "Hot Dog!! That was Chief O'Hara, my connection with the police. He can get into the Military Records without us having to hack our way in. He'll give us the dirt on Donald's missing record." "Golly, you've got a relationship *with* the Cops?" "Doesn't *anybody* read my Comic Books?" Mickey rolls his eyes over. "I know the writer does. prefers comic books to cartoons . . . heh-heh, strange fellow . . ." "Crikey, Mickey. *We've usually hang around the ceiling fan and spy on the police. Heh, sometimes do a little stealing of our own with their cheese supply." "Yeah," Mickey raises an eyebrow in remissant of his Uncle Walt's 'dirty look'. "I've *seen* your cheese addiction at work--as well as JB about to switch on Sarcasm Mode:" "Oh, joy. We're going to work with the cops. The fuzz. The pigs. . ." _______________________________ "okay . . . the balding basset hounds with the standard Irish accent. Are these handcuffs real?" "Why sure, laddie, they are." Chief O'Hara inspects the 'cuffs that Jonathan recklessly slapped on himself. "Special 'Toon-proof model too; it took Roger Rabbit a full minute to break free, and he's the record holder . . . I take it you don't have cops in Thorn Valley, do they." "Nope . . ." ---CLANK--- It took Jonathan Brisby ten seconds. ". . . We have sort of a communal farm over there. We're a small but tight-knit group." Jonathan moves to the soda machine whistling something from the radio--"Oink-Oink-Swooooeee--Yippe-Yo-Kai-Yah, Pig Man in th' hooooooouse."--as the Chief's mouth was left hanging. "Mickey, where in the Wonderful World of Disney did you get this guy?" "I found him after that incident with Pippkin. He moved in with the Rangers after Chip 'n' Dale left for the RAS. He's very talented, a well-learned magician--it takes me *fifteen* to break out of that cuffs--and in some circumstances very much like me; it's surprising coming from a Generation X'er. I see a lot of promise in JB. Now, if I could steer the boy in the right direction . . ." At this point, an officer passed by with a manila folder for Mickey. "The Navy records on a Seaman Donald Duck." A quick scan confirmed Mickey's fears for one of his friends. "As I figured. It *was* dishonorable. I guess they couldn't take his attitude and that heavy duck accent." He sighs as he hands the file to O'Hara. "That career in the Navy meant a lot for him. He considered it a lot higher up on the food chain than the successful life he has in Disney. I think I seen this coming a mile away." He turns to Gadget, Monty, and the now-returning Jonathan. "I need Donald to get it through that thick skull he's got that he still has a life with us. I don't want to make you take up what is essentially *my* problem, but if you want to help--" Monty got up. "Why sure we can, Mate!! We're *still* the Rescue Rangers, even without Chip 'n' Dale, right Gadget luv, JB?" "Sure thing, Mickey. Golly, I always wanted to be in the same story with Mickey!" "Gosh, Gadget, it's not like I'm *that* much in the foreground these days." "Yeah, I'd bet every Toon around would sell their sense of humor to play straight man to you." "I'm not *that* expensive, JB. Heh-heh. All I'd ask is an E-Ticket . . . or maybe two." A pause from Gadget, Monterey, and Jonathan gave Mickey the impression that he just gotten over their heads: "E-Ticket? What's an E-Ticket?" "They stopped those in '82, mate." "Did you just show off your age there?" "*D'OH!!*" " Now yer acting like Homer Simpson. That's getting closer." "Why you little . . . I didn't start with that punk hair-do with yours, JB--" Jonathan was about to say that Disney can give him a haircut only if they shave any Disney Princess bald first--the barber took one look as Pocahontas cracking her knuckles and dropped the case--when the police scanner squawked to life. "Robbery at fifth and chestnut, request officers. Be warned: Suspects are armed and dangerous." Three mice try to get up to investigate when the more-experienced fourth waved them off. "Calm yourselves, guys. You don't have to concern yourself with this--the Cops can handle it." Mickey starts to whistle "Informer" from Snow when the next line from the scanner almost turned his fur color white. "Lead suspect is a duck, black sweater, wearing mask . . . highly temperable . . . with a big speech impediment . . . cant hear a damn word he's saying . . ." Mickey's expression of utter disbelief was lost to Jonathan. "Is it me or did that guy just cussed on the scanner? I thought this was going to be like one . . ." Mickey didn't hear his younger contemporary. He was glued to the scanner like it was reciting Stephen King. Listening for the distinctive quaaaaack, only to hear a woman's voice; like Mickey's only even higher than him: "Snatch *my* purse, will you?! Take *that*!! Ohmigosh!! D-D-D-Don--CLICK!" Mickey was booking out of Police Headquarters as if a cat were right on his tail. Monterey, Gadget, and Jonathan followed in close pursuit. "That must've been Minnie on the scanner, Mates!! She's the only one I know who'd make Mickey run this fast when she's in trouble!" "Golly, That was *Donald* robbing the bank?! I can't believe it!!" "Round *two?*" _____________________________________ The Classic Disney Mouse/Duck war continues . . . With a Firestorm Twist . . . Next Installment, Lawsuits not-pending . . .