Heroes of the Multiverse
by Ari Rockefeller
Usual
disclaimers apply. These characters do
no belong to me.
The First Bank of
For normal civilians and citizens,
such as Ash Ketchum, who just entered the bank, they were treated
normally. They were individuals whose
money mattered, but in the grand scheme of things they would get lost in the
shuffle.
The interior of the bank was a site
to behold. The floors were a lovely,
polished marble, and several large chandeliers hung from the high
ceilings. The chandeliers were made of
highly polished crystal that cast multicolored specks of light across the lobby
when the sun hit them. Despite the
superior technological advances of the Multiverse, the tellers’ counter looked
like something from the 50s or 60s.
There was a marble counter with dark oak partitions separating each
teller, and each teller was separated from the customer by a polished steel
grate. Overall it looked old, but in a
distinguished, stand-the-test-of-time manner.
Off to either side were individual
accountants sitting behind rich, oak desks.
Further back on the right side was a huge titanium, circular door, half
open. The pathway, however, was blocked
off by a metal grate with a lock.
Obviously that must’ve been where the safe deposit boxes were. Two armed guards stood outside.
Remembering he wasn’t in his home
world any more, Ash expected to be asked to leave, what with having an “animal”
like Pikachu on his shoulder. After all,
this looked like far too elegant a place to deal with some Multiverse newbie
who just rolled in off the street with his pet rat on his arm. However, much to his surprise, he would be
treated like any other customer.
A lady with cropped brown hair in a
blue women’s business suit approached him.
“Excuse me young man,” she said, “can I help you?”
“Um…I guess,” he started. “Uh, I’m here to…open up an account…I didn’t
know who to talk to about that, though…”
“New to the Multiverse, kid?” she
asked.
“Can you tell?” Ash said with a
chuckle.
“Don’t worry about it, kid; we get
at least one new person every day, it’s no big deal.” She walked towards her desk and motioned Ash
to follow. “Come with me, I’ll get you
all set up.”
“Well, so far so good, right,
Pikachu?” Ash asked.
“Pikachu,” {“She seems nice enough,”} he said as Ash
followed the nice lady.
CHAPTER
VI
MONEY
IN THE BANK
In his career as a thief, Arsénsé
Lupin III has knocked off more than his share of banks. Banks, for most thieves such as him, are
elementary-level tasks. Even the more
sophisticated banks like in parts of
At least in the Multiverse –
specifically, Multiverse City – Lupin could ideally have a fresh start. The City was, needless to say, in another
dimension, and out of Interpol’s jurisdiction.
Now perhaps if this dimension had an Interpol (or equivalent) of
its own, that would be a different story.
After all, up until now Lupin hadn’t committed any crimes in The City,
and the MCPD couldn’t legally lay a finger on him.
So why would someone in Lupin’s
situation want to screw things up in a brand new world like this? He hadn’t done anything wrong (yet), and this
place was like a sanctuary to someone with a record like his. What would drive him to throw away a good
deal like this?
Well, to be honest, it was in his
blood. His father, and his father before
him, both were thieves, and he had two generations of stories to learn all the
tricks of the trade. This thieving
pedigree didn’t help him very much when he did try to go legit a few
times. He grew bored with “honest” work,
and before long, he would be back doing what he was born to do.
“Pretty classy digs they’ve got
here,” said Lupin as he entered the lobby.
“Hmm…” Jigen grumbled. He looked around, noting the locations of the
security cameras. “Security is tighter
than expected for this place.”
“We’re not worried about a few video
cameras, Jigen,” Lupin reassured. “Our
main concern is getting a hold of all that…all that…” He started scratching his
head. “Hey, what color is the
money in
* * * * *
Ash sat in a brown leather seat as
the woman – Helen, according to her name plate – idly typed information into
her computer as he answered her questions.
She looked like she did this a hundred times a day, and Ash was just
another newbie to Multiverse City. Like
he was just someone else with a story to tell.
Only, judging by the tangents she went on, she was more interested in
his than she would normally be.
“…and were you referred to our bank
by anyone?” Helen asked.
“Um, yes…a Ms. Bulma Brief, the—”
“The C.E.O. of Capsule Corp.,” she
finished, “yes, I’m familiar with her.
She’s one of our best customers.”
“Does…that make any kind of
difference?”
“Well, since you’re affiliated with
an elite zaibatsu within the city, you’re entitled to a higher interest rate
than our regular customers. If you
could, I could tack you on to Capsule Corporation’s account, to make it
official.”
“Okay,” Ash shrugged, “let’s do
that.”
“Pikachu,” {“More money is good,”}
Pikachu said.
“Just out of curiosity, kid…” She
stopped typing and looked at the young boy sitting across her desk. “What brings you to The City?”
He could tell that this would make
no difference to his financial standings with the bank, but he answered
anyway. “Well, I was recruited as part
of an elite superhero team by none other than Son Goku,” he told the woman.
Helen laughed lightheartedly. “Kids,” she sighed. She turned back to her computer.
Ash rolled his eyes. He shouldn’t have been surprised she didn’t
believe him. But he was.
* * * * *
“Next customer, please?” one of the
bank tellers, a pretty blond in a pink blouse called. “How may I help you?”
Lupin casually walked up to the
teller and leaned over the ledge. He
stared into the girl’s eyes for a few seconds, drawing a surprised gasp from
her. “Well, hello there, gorgeous,” he
crooned.
“Lupin!” Jigen shouted from behind
them.
“Oh!
Right.” He would have to put his
affections for this young beauty behind the counter. He gave a nonverbal signal to Jigen, Goemon
and Fujiko, who knew exactly what to do.
Goemon and Jigen approached two other tellers, pushing aside the
customers who were being waited on. “You
can help me by giving me all the money in the vault over there,” Lupin told the
clerk. “You see this…” Fujiko fired a
few rounds from her machine gun straight up at the ceiling, dislodging chunks
of plaster and tile. “…is a robbery.”
People started screaming in panic,
and some made a break for the doors.
“Alright, everyone stay right where you are!” Other accountants at their
desks (and their clients) stood up, planning to run themselves, but Lupin’s
order stopped them dead in their tracks.
“Everyone just stay calm, and this will go over relatively
painless.” He stepped away from the cute
teller, who was in the process of filling a red bank bag with stacks of
money—it didn’t matter if the cash was blue (100 credit bills), green (500 credit
bills), or red (1000 credit bills). As
long as it was being put in the bag, it was all the same.
The people behind the counter were
terrified, as well they should be. Never
before had this bank ever been targeted for a robbery…at least, not at a time
any of the employees could remember. The
security was there to serve a purpose, but with the nonexistent crime rate in
Let them all know that Lupin III was
here to stay.
“And you over at those desks,” Lupin
called out, “you stand right there and keep those hands where we can see them,
alright?” He leaned forward, his gun
hanging off his finger by the trigger guard.
“I don’t wanna see anyone get hurt, I really don’t! You give me what I want, I leave…boom! We can all go home scot-free! Simple, no?”
* * * * *
Ash didn’t get up, and given his
vantage point from behind a five foot tall partition, it was doubtful the
thieves could see him. Instead, he
looked over his shoulder and around said partition, noting the three—no,
wait…four thieves. He slowly slipped out
of his chair, keeping hunched down behind the dividing wall, peeking his head
around the corner just enough to see without being seen.
“What are you doing?” Helen
shout-whispered.
Ash shushed her quietly, and then
crawled forward a little further. He
stayed low, staying no higher off the ground than his Pikachu was tall. “This is it, Pikachu,” he told him quietly,
“this is the moment we’ve been waiting for.
We’re gonna prove ourselves as heroes.”
“Pika, pika,” {“Let’s do this,”} he
said.
Ash retained his stealthy posture, or as
stealthy as he could possibly be. He got
within about ten feet of the bank robbers before his presence was known. One of the robbers – the samurai guy, he was
the only without a gun – noticed him first, but didn’t really pay much attention. After all, he was just a kid. What could he possibly do?
“Hey, you!” Ash shouted, pointing at
Lupin.
His smile disappeared, his gun arm
flopping down by his side. Slowly, Lupin
turned to the source of the noise. He
saw a young boy of about twelve, pointing at him, his other hand clutched in a
tight fist at his side. There was a
yellow…a yellow…well, he didn’t know what
the hell that thing was. But it had
electricity(???) crackling from two red circles on its cheeks.
The thieves obviously didn’t take
this kid seriously. Onlookers could tell
just by Lupin’s reaction. His eyes grew
wide as dinner plates, and he looked around for a few moments. “Who, me?” he asked after a while, pointing
to himself.
Ash could tell he was being
mocked. The growl and gnashing of teeth
in anger made that apparent. “Yes, you!
Duh!” Ash snapped.
“You’re not gonna tell us that we’re
robbing the bank, are you?”
“I don’t need to state the obvious,
but I will anyway. I’m here to stop you
crooks!”
“Pi ka!” {“Right on!”} Pikachu
shouted.
“Uh…huh…” The French thief’s eyebrows
furrowed. This didn’t seem too out of the ordinary, even though he
hasn’t been in the Multiverse very long.
But from what he did know of
A small smile, almost a smirk
appeared on his face. “I thought you’d
never ask,” Ash answered. He grabbed the
brim of his hat as he spoke “I am Ash Ketchum, the greatest Pokémon master in
this or any other world!” He struck a quasi-superhero pose as he concluded,
Pikachu jumping off his hat with a flip and landing in front of his trainer.
“Pika, pi ka pi ka!” {“And I’m
Pikachu!”} he called.
Lupin was still at a loss for words
as this kid made his intro. Even the
innocent bystanders in the bank had grown silent and had their eyes on the
kid. But in a few seconds, they forgot
they were hostages as Lupin busted out laughing…followed by Jigen, Goemon and Fujiko…followed
by everyone else.
Ash’s face was as red as a tomato
and his teeth were gnashed together in anger.
Pikachu’s ears was bowed in embarrassment, but snapped up at a unique
sound. A low growl crept out of his
mouth. It flared up just as Ash shouted
in anger. “I’m serious!” he wailed. This did little to quell the laughter,
however. In fact, it seemed to make it
worse. Lupin by now had hit the ground,
and was rolling around in the fetal position, he was laughing so hard.
It would be a while before the
laughter died down. All the while Ash
stood there, frozen in anger, his fists shaking by his side. By the time they stopped laughing, they were
ready to take their job seriously again.
For now, at least. The four thieves
stood between Ash and the bank tellers, who had since lowered their arms. The silent alarms, they knew, had summoned
the police, and they knew they were waiting outside at that very moment.
In fact, one of the policemen was
looking in on them right now, poking his head in through a window.
That was three stories up.
* * * * *
A dozen cop cars had skidded to a
halt outside the First Bank of
The one who had his head in the
window had the rest of his body behind the other cops and cars. A long tube of flexible titanium acted as his
neck, allowing him to extend and retract it at will (though usually accompanied
by a clever activation phrase). His
brown gloved hands were behind his back.
His gray trench coat was clean as a whistle.
“What’s the situation in there,
Gadget?” asked a detective in a brown, similarly styled trench coat standing
next to him. He waited a few seconds for
a response, in vain. “Gadget?”
“He can’t hear you when his head’s
twenty-some feet from his body, Zenigata,” said a very fat, pig-nosed
policeman, the third of the operation’s overseers.
“Whoops,” Inspector Zenigata of
Interpol said. “Forgot about that.” He poked the gray coated detective in the
shoulder a few times, hard enough for him to feel it. His head retracted to his body seconds later.
“Your suspicions were right,”
inspector Gadget confirmed, “it’s Lupin and his band of thieves.”
“You’ll have to excuse me,
gentlemen,” Zenigata said, “it’s just that I get a little…worked up whenever I
hear about Lupin’s exploits. I tell you,
he’s given me and everyone else at Interpol no end of nightmares.”
“And now he’s doing the same to the
MCPD,” chief of police Clancy Wiggum added.
“Once a thief, always a thief.”
He turned to Gadget. “What’s the
situation in there?”
“It appears Lupin’s taken hostages,”
Gadget said solemnly, “including a little boy and his pet….something-or-other.”
“Hostages? Lupin?
This is new.” Zenigata’s surprise
quickly snowballed into rage. “How dare
he—sure, a few gorgeous women in the area I can see, but Lupin putting a gun to
a child’s head?! Oh…” he chuckled an evil chuckle. “He’s gonna rot in jail for a long time!”
“I’d better radio for backup,”
Wiggum said, reaching for his walkie-talkie.
Just then, about a half a dozen news vans pulled up at the end of the
block, cameramen and reporters filing out.
“Backup’s arrived, chief,” Gadget
said with a smirk.
Wiggum growled in anger. “We do not need these media parasites getting
in the way,” he grumbled.
“What we need is a negotiator,”
Zenigata suggested. “Get one out here
now…the best in the city!” he insisted.
* * * * *
“Wait, wait, wait, hold on a second,
hold on,” Jigen Daisuke coaxed. While
the bystanders stopped laughing a while ago, Lupin and the others kept going
on. “What’d you say your name was, Ash
Ketchum?”
“Yeah, that’s right,” Ash
stated. “What of it?”
“I’ve heard that name. You’re the Pokémon master everyone’s been
talking about, right?”
“Without your Pokémon, you’re
nothing, right?” Fujiko asked.
“That’s not true!” Ash
protested. “I’m easily stronger than any
of you four!” His fist shook as he held it out a few inches from his body.
“Oh, really?” Lupin challenged,
slowly striding towards the boy. “You,
with you short, stubby little arms and little twig legs?” By now, Lupin was about two paces from the
kid. “Don’t make me laugh. You’ve been watching too much pro wrestling,
kid.”
“And besides,” Goemon said, “what
can one little kid like you possibly do?”
“I’ve proved what one person is
capable of plenty of times,” Ash answered, “and against bigger threats than you
clowns.”
“Pika, pika chu!” {“You guys are
nothing!”} Pikachu added.
Lupin straightened up, his hands in
his pockets. He looked over his shoulder
at Jigen and the others. He
shrugged. They exchanged glances with
one another, trying to decipher what Lupin was planning. Lupin reached inside his red suit jacket and
pulled out his favorite pistol, a Walther P38, and aimed it right at the young
Pokémon trainer. Said trainer flinched
and his eyes grew wide, but he held his ground regardless.
“Ever been shot at, kid?” he asked,
grinning. He believed he had this kid
figured out—a little mama’s boy from some backwater town out in the country who
probably never heard a four-letter word in his lifetime, let alone been
threatened in such a fashion. He’ll be
cowering any second now. “Heh…I’ll bet
you’ve never even seen a gun in your life before, kid, have you?”
“Are you going anywhere with this?”
Ash asked, annoyed. “Because if you are,
you better hurry the hell up and get there.”
Lupin hung his head, his gun arm
falling limp at his side. His free hand
slid through his short, black hair until it settled on the back of his neck.
“Lupin…!” Jigen warned. He knew what this meant, though he rarely saw
Lupin act like this. This was how he
would act when he wanted to shoot someone (to kill) but couldn’t. Lupin’s patience was wearing thin, and he
didn’t want to suffer because he lost his cool.
They were already looking at a long jail sentence (given they got
caught), and if a hostage died because of them, well…
They didn’t know if
“Great,” Lupin grumbled, “that’s
just great. You know, kid, I was gonna spare
you – I really was! – but you know what, with that attitude…I got no
choice. The kid’s gotta die.”
Ash’s eyes grew wide as dinner
plates. So did those of his comrades.
“Are you crazy?!” Fujiko shouted,
nearly dropping her gun.
“Y-yeah, I mean,” Ash stammered,
“you can’t shoot a kid!”
The French thief looked at Ash, his
lips pursed. He let out a low hiss in
contemplation. “Well, yeah…” he started,
“it’s just that…”
And at that, he quickly aimed his
gun and fired six shots, each one striking Ash Ketchum right in his chest, each
successful hit marked by a splash of blood.
Ash was forced back with each shot until he froze, his eyes glazed over,
before falling face first to the cold, marble floor.
“Lupin! You idiot!” Jigen shouted. His appalled gaze shifted from the smiling
Lupin to the dead Ash. “You didn’t have
to shoot the poor kid!”
Lupin shrugged. “Yeah, well…” He spun his gun on the trigger
guard, and slipped it back in his holster.
“What’re ya gonna do, right?” He
tossed bags of the bank’s money at his cohorts, the idea being they were to
carry them out. Each had two bags, with
Lupin holding two more under his arms.
“Do you really expect us to shoot
our way through this city’s police force?” Fujiko argued.
“They’ve probably got the whole of
the force right outside the doors as we speak,” Goemon said.
Lupin, Jigen, Goemon and Fujiko
continued to argue as Lupin started for the door, bags of money in their
hands. The main lobby of the bank was
very large, and they had a great distance to go before the inevitable shootout
with the police. Somewhere in the back
of their minds, there was a feeling of doom—there was already one casualty in
this heist, even though that wasn’t part of the plan, and more were on the
way. Even worse, Goemon didn’t carry a
gun, only a katana that was in his family for generations. And as good as he was with said katana, a
highly trained city police officer can bring a swordsman down pretty
quickly. Not even the great Goemon
Ishikawa could parry gunfire. What
samurai could?
During their argument, which was
escalating at an alarming rate, they paid no attention to the young man they
had just lain waste too minutes ago.
After all, they thought he was dead.
Well, that’s what the kid wanted
them to believe.
What they didn’t know is that Ash
was not in fact dead. It only looked
that way. See, in his shock at being
shot, the young Pokémon master failed to realize he was wearing one Bulma’s
prototype inventions—a bulletproof vest that was laced with a membrane full of
fake blood made from corn syrup and red food coloring. This model was the same color as his shirt,
and with his jacket over top, it looked like he wasn’t wearing it. It was merely a modified police issue
vest. That was it. According to Bulma’s assumptions, the fake
blood would do nothing to compromise the vest’s integrity. When the wearer is first shot and he or she
falls over, the blood would drain out of the hole in the vest, further driving
home the belief that the wearer’s blood was leaking out of them from underneath
them.
And so far, it worked like a charm.
Even Ash’s Pikachu believed his
master to be dead, his ears drooping as he crawled under Ash’s limp arm, his
eyes beginning to tear up over his “death”.
He nearly screamed out when he felt the corpse’s hand tighten around him
slightly.
Ash quickly shushed Pikachu, wanting
the thieves to believe him dead. He
smiled at the yellow mouse, while his other hand reached for a Pokéball on his
belt. With a silent count, Ash sprung to
his feet and threw the ball.
“Bayleef! I choose you!” he
shouted.
Everyone shouted in shock as Ash got
back up. He had them all fooled; they
all thought he was dead. Lupin and his
gang spun around so fast they nearly broke their necks. Their eyes were wide in shock. Even Lupin screamed a high, falsetto shriek.
“What?! I thought you were dead!” he shouted. “You saw me shoot him!”
“Well shoot him again!” Jigen
shouted. “Make him stay dead this time!”
Ash would have none of that. “Bayleef!
Razor leaf attack!” he shouted.
The evolved Chikorita whipped her neck around in a circle, launching a
volley of razor-sharp leaves at the thieves.
As the strange creature started its attack, the thieves dropped their
bags and drew their guns. But they would
not react fast enough. Before even a
single shot could be fired, the leaves struck, leaving a handful of nicks and
cuts on them.
“Some ace in the hole,” Jigen
taunted, pulling the trigger. As he did
that, his gun fell apart. Lupin and
Fujiko tried the same with their pistols, with similar results. The harmless-looking leaves were so sharp
they had cut their guns to metallic scrap.
Fujiko still had her Tommy Gun, and Goemon’s sword was safe, but those
facts escaped them at the moment.
“You forget, I’m a Pokémon master,”
Ash said. “With my Pokémon at my side
I’m unstoppable!”
“Wait, wait, wait!” Lupin
shouted. “How are you not dead?!”
Ash removed his jacket and pulled at
the collar of the bulletproof vest he was wearing until the Velcro straps on
the side came free. “This is why,” he
said, tossing the bullet-riddled armor aside.
On the back was the Capsule Corporation logo. “It’s a vest called the Façade. And it really pulled the wool over your eyes,
didn’t it?”
The sound of a gun cocking wiped the
smile off Ash’s face. Fujiko busted out
her Tommy Gun and had it trained on the arrogant youth. “Should’ve left it on, kid!” she shouted. “This time, you’re gonna bleed for real! You and your Pokémon!”
“Bayleef, return!” he shouted. He just barely returned Bayleef in time,
sparing it from being shot. As he
returned her, Ash turned around and ran like hell, bullets whizzing by him and
smashing into anything in their path. He
quickly changed his course, running with the tellers’ partition on his
right. Behind him, chunks of plaster and
wood flew in all directions as it became riddled with bullet holes. Pikachu ran on top of it, the cloud of dust
hindering him very little.
At one point, the gunfire
stopped. Ash looked at the shooter and
saw her reload her weapon. Ash wouldn’t
let this opportunity pass. “Charizard! I choose you!” he shouted, throwing the
dragon Pokémon’s ball. It snapped open,
and said dragon appeared with a mighty roar, flames burning off the tip of his
tail, its wings opened.
“This kid’s got a pet dragon?!”
Lupin shouted.
Behind the dragon, Ash was running
towards him. “Charizard! Let’s go!” Ash shouted as he jumped. Charizard knew the drill. He lowered his neck and flattened out his
wings, and once Ash was settled, he took flight. He flew as high as the chandeliers hung down,
circling his prey. At his master’s
command, he turned some quick maneuvers as Fujiko resumed shooting, the bullets
doing little more than smashing some of the crystals and dislodging chunks of
plaster from the ceiling. Charizard
waved back and forth as he swooped down, avoiding the gunfire from Fujiko’s
Tommy Gun.
“Charizard! Flamethrower attack!” Ash shouted. The dragon swooped down and launched a
torrent of red-hot fire, engulfing Fujiko and Goemon. As the attack subsided, Ash left off
Charizard’s back and returned him all before he hit the ground.
“Yeah!” Ash shouted. He grabbed another Pokéball. “And now for the finish—”
The sound of a gun cocking silenced
the boy. Lupin was off to the side, his Walther
aimed directly at the kid’s head. Ash
froze at the sight of the gun. He was
without his bulletproof vest, and had no other real way of weaseling out of
this situation. The Pokéball was still
in his hand, full-size and ready to be launched at a moment’s notice.
Whether or not he would get that
opportunity was still up in the air.
“Hands where we can see them, kid!”
Lupin, now furious, barked. He rejoined
his partners, all of whom (except Goemon) had guns trained on him. Ash slowly raised his hands, his heart
beating up in his throat. The hand that
held the Pokéball shook with fright…fright that Ash didn’t want to admit
feeling.
“Drop that ball!” Lupin ordered.
“Drop
it!” Jigen shouted. Ash did so,
letting the Pokéball slip out of his hand and bounce a few times behind
him. Their faces held angry expressions until
they heard the ball snap open and the Pokémon inside materialized.
Their lips pursed and their eyes
grew wide at the sight of the very large Pokémon.
Ash smirked. The giant Pokémon growled and scratched
itself. It was angry that it had been
woken up. A Snorlax was the biggest
Pokémon known, a typical Snorlax weighing in at around 1200 pounds. But Ash’s Snorlax was big even by those
standards. On its hind legs, it stood a
foot and a half taller and weighed close to a full ton. Yet it moved with all the grace and style of
a Pokémon a small fraction of its size.
“Snor laaaaax,” {“You woke me up,”}
Snorlax grumbled.
“You know,” Ash started, his hands
now in his pockets and Pikachu on his shoulder, “maybe watching all that
professional wrestling isn’t such a bad thing, now that I think about it.” He whispered something in a volume only
Pikachu could hear. “Because I never
would’ve got the idea to do this!”
“Do what?” Lupin whimpered, his eyes
still on the large lummox the kid had under his control.
Ash and Pikachu turned and ran to
the left as fast as he could.
“Snorlax! Rolling Thunder
attack!”
Snorlax growled loudly, and charged
forward. With three big, ground shaking
strides, it cleared half the length of the lobby before leaping and curling
into a ball. It rolled until it came
within ten feet of the crooks when it sprang to its feet and leapt high into
the air. Finally, it came down back
first, trapping the entire lot under its great mass. A hand – Lupin’s, judging by the red sleeve –
twitched violently before falling limp to the floor.
Everyone else in the bank was silent
for a few seconds. Then, the bystanders
erupted in exuberant cheering. Ash stood
there for a few seconds, dumbfounded. He
wasn’t used to getting this kind of attention on the few off times when he did
prevent some disaster from happening on any given day of his journey. He blushed deeply.
“Thanks, Snorlax,” Ash said, looking
at the huge Pokémon. “You did a great
job.”
Snorlax stood up from the huge crater
he made when he hit the floor. Lupin and
the others were laid out, groaning in pain, thankful to be out from underneath
the ton of Snorlax.
“Snorr…orrrr…laaaax,”
{“I’m…Snor…lax,”} it grunted, pointing at its shoulders with its thumb claws.
* * * * *
Outside the bank, about twenty
S.W.A.T. officers, wearing full body armor and armed with blasters and
high-grade plastic shields stood lined up in two columns outside the doors to
the First Bank of
One of the officers in front saw a
few figures try and leave through the main doors. “Sir!
Someone’s coming towards the door!”
“This is it, people!” Wiggum
shouted. He reached for his pistol. Zenigata grew tense. The figure approaching the door grew bigger,
slowly coming into focus as it approached the distorted glass door.
And suddenly, the doors opened.
As soon as they came out, every
S.W.A.T. officer took aim at who they thought
was Lupin & co. But what they
saw blew their minds. A boy of no older
than twelve with a beast that looked like a living plant exited, Lupin and his
cohorts tied up in its vines and suspended about a foot from the ground.
Ash blinked at the sight of the
police with their guns aimed right at him.
He flinched when a few of their laser sights glanced over his eyes. They wouldn’t shoot him, right? He and his Pokémon weren’t the target.
“What is the hold-up?!”
An angry voice called out from
behind the wall of blue. Zenigata pushed
through the other police, Gadget a half-step behind him. When they came to the clearing, both
inspectors were at a loss for words.
“Wowzers,” Gadget gasped.
“Th-th-this…this kid put a stop to Lupin?!” Zenigata
shouted in shock. He suddenly slumped
forward with a loud groan. “This is
unfathomable! I got shown up by a damn
kid!”
Ash tilted his head to the
side. “What…what’s the problem?”
Zenigata wailed loudly. “Ten years on the force and all that work
gone to waste in a single instant!”
A yellow hand on several yards of
flexible titanium rods pushes the distraught Zenigata to the side. “Oh, give it a rest, Zenigata,” Gadget
insisted. He looked at Ash. “You’ll have to excuse him; he’s been trying
to bring Lupin and his cohorts to justice for years.”
“Let me guess…I just made him look
like a dope, right?” Ash asked, deflated.
“In his eyes, yeah, probably.”
“But don’t let that get you down,
kid,” a very fat officer – Wiggum, he would later find out – said as he joined
the other two inspectors, “if it weren’t for you, this guy would be free to
commit all sorts of robberies not just in the city, but anywhere else on the
planet.”
Ash regained his smile. “Yeah, you’re right.” He looked at Bayleef. “Alright, Bayleef, you can drop them.”
“Bay, bay! {“Can do!”} Bayleef said,
unloosening the vines around the four thieves.
They collapsed in a pile of defeated flesh. The officers quickly aimed their guns at
them.
Zenigata was the first to pounce on
them, a pair of handcuffs gleaming in the afternoon sun. “I’ve been waiting to do this for a long time
now!” he shouted, handcuffing Lupin’s hands behind his back. One by one, Goemon, Jigen and Fujiko were
handcuffed and led to a squad car waiting at the bottom of the steps.
“Looks like you can die a happy man
now, eh, Pops?” Lupin asked.
“You got that right!” Zenigata
answered. As he put him into the car, he
banged his head off the top of the car.
“Watch your head,” he said with a laugh.
Lupin was the last to be loaded into the car, and once the thieves were
secure, the car left, its siren and lights blaring.
“Well, that’s that,” chief Wiggum
said. “Lupin and those other crooks will
be behind bars for a long, long time.
The City owes you a great debt, kid.” He, Gadget, and Zenigata (with an
eye roll and a disgusted sigh) saluted the kid, who returned the salute in
kind.
News reporters for both television
and the press were over the scene like the plague. “Excuse me, officers?” a news photographer
called.
Wiggum glanced to his right, where
the photographer was. The other three
were in the perfect spot for the camera, and he managed to snap what he thought
was the perfect shot.
* * * * *
The incident was all over the
news. The news stations covered it in
some way, including getting a few bashful reactions from the kid who just went
in to open an account and ended up bringing one of the most notorious thieves ever
known to justice.
In Wiggum’s office, he sat down at
his desk, going over some paperwork. The
incident had also made the evening edition of the Multiverse Times newspaper, the largest newspaper in the entire
city. On the front page was he, Zenigata,
Gadget and the little hero, Ash Ketchum, all in mid-salute. The headline was also part of the clip, the
words YOUTH HERO FOILS LUPIN spelled
out in big, bold letters.
Wiggum sat down in his chair. While it may have been just another day in
the life of a police officer, that Ash kid would be talked about for days –
maybe even weeks – to come. And the kid
knew it, too. He also told people that
he was in league with Goku, and everyone in
The City knew who Goku was. It didn’t
hurt matters when Goku was later approached by reporters and told them that he
and his other two hero friends would be holding an open audition for any hero
who thinks he or she has what it takes to defend the city from the most
diabolical of villains.
The phone on his desk rang, shaking
chief Wiggum out of his thoughts. By the
phone was a picture of him, his wife, and his ten-year-old son Ralph. He grabbed the receiver. He got into his all-business mentality as he
put it to his ear. “Wiggum,” he
said. The voice on the other end was
low, under control, but clearly upset with him.
“Well…there was nothing I could do, Mr. Negotiator, I had no idea what
happened today would happen…”
* * * * *
“That’s none of my concern, Wiggum,”
retorted Roger Smith, master negotiator. He was driving down Highway 13 in his jet
black 1956 Rolls Royce Phantom IV. The interior of the car was perfect save for
a few modifications, such as a communications system linked to his home, and
his butler, Norman Burg. The car looked
as glorious and pristine as the day it rolled off the assembly line. “You requested my services and by the time I
arrive, you tell me that there’s nothing for me to do?”
“Well, yeah…” Wiggum answered. “But you…you should be thankful, Mr.
Smith. Right? I mean, you didn’t have to dirty your hands
by dealing with scum like Lupin. He was
brought to justice, and everyone goes home happy, right?”
“Lupin was brought in by a
prepubescent little boy who shouldn’t be doing anything more than going to
school and playing with other children,” Roger explained. “And to answer your question, I’m not going home happy. I’m not a superhero, chief, I’m a
businessman. My time is very valuable,
and I can’t have it wasted in such fashion.
I plan on sending you a bill for half of my usual negotiation fee, just
for wasting my time.”
“What?!” The sound of clattering
rang out. On the other end of the phone,
it sounded like Wiggum nearly fell out of his rickety old chair. “But that’s impossible! You didn’t actually do any negotiation! The city will not pay you when you’ve done
nothing!”
“I see. I’m sorry you feel that way, chief.” Roger smiled, then switched his cellular
phone to his other hand. “Perhaps it would
interest you that I have Commissioner Gant’s number on speed dial.” Wiggum gulped, but not quietly enough for
Roger to hear. “And from what he’s told
me, he’s been upset with your…performance.
With one phone call I could have you paying my fee out of your very
pocket. How does that sound, chief?”
He heard Wiggum growl on the other
end. Roger could practically hear his
teeth grinding away. “Alright, Roger,
you’ll get your fee. Just don’t think
you’re gonna make a habit out of this, you got it? You’re not in
“I know. The Paradigm police are a lot more
professional than this.” Roger hung up
the phone, and tossed it into the empty passenger seat. He sighed heavily. That conversation with that fat excuse for a
cop Clancy Wiggum really got under his skin.
He couldn’t even enjoy the car ride home. And he was hungry.
He grabbed a microphone built into
the divider in between the seats. The
second he clicked it on, the round, gray monitor came to life, the face of his tuxedo-clad
butler Norman appearing. “Yes, Master
Roger?” he asked.
“
“I thought you had cancelled your
dinner plans, Master Roger,”
“It didn’t happen. And from what I understand, it’s all over the
news.”
“Very well, sir.” He was about to close communications when the
face of a red-haired (though you couldn’t tell, given the black-and-white
monitor) girl appeared. It was the face
of his “partner”, R. Dorothy Wayneright.
“Roger,” she asked, “did you hear
about the auditions tomorrow?” she asked.
“What auditions?” Roger answered.
“Did you not hear the news? There is a superhero audition tomorrow being
held by the same people who were responsible for foiling the bank robbery. I think you have a good chance of making it,
Roger.”
“Dorothy…” he sighed, “I’m no
superhero, I’m just a negotiator.”
“What about Big O? I believe you and the
Big O can greatly benefit The City,
and mankind.”
“Sorry, Dorothy, I’m not really
interested in this sort of thing.”
Dorothy was silent for a few
moments. “Perhaps I can persuade you to
at least try.”
“Persuade me how?”
* * * * *
At approximately 6:00 Multiverse
City Time the next morning, the sound of loud, rapid piano music reached the
farthest corners of Smith Manor. Roger
was in the midst of a deep, peaceful sleep when the sound assailed his
ears. Roger rolled to his side, his eyes
shut tight. He rolled to his other side,
groaning in frustration. He hated when
Dorothy did this. It was her way of
getting him out of bed and keeping him from sleeping in too late, or when she
wanted him to do something for her. And
sadly, he knew exactly what she wanted him to do.
“Alright, alright!” he grumbled,
finally getting out of bed. “I’m up, I’m
up! Geez! Enough with the piano, would you?!”
Roger Smith lurched into the main
dining room, where
“Don’t tell me you were in on this,”
Roger grumbled, sitting down.
“I’m afraid so, sir,”
“Six in the morning is way too early for me, Norman!” Roger
wailed. He quickly regained his failing
composure. “Look, I’m not really interested
in this Goku guy’s agenda; I’m only doing this to appease Dorothy.” His glance drifted around the room, as
Dorothy’s piano playing only seemed to get louder. “Besides, if I didn’t, you and I both know
she would never stop playing the piano.”
“Understood, sir.” He left Roger to his breakfast. “I’ll go warm up the car.”
TO
BE CONTINUED……………