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"Full Throttle"

The sound of metal echoed through the corridors as Plutarkian Lawrence Limburger walked the main hallway from the prisoner cell blocks toward the command center. Dressed in his blue suit and still wearing his human mask, he couldn't help but sport a rather nasty smile. He was actually ready to report to the High Counsel on his continued success on planet Earth. He'd managed to capture one of his hated enemies; one of the Biker Mice from Mars. He stepped up to a large rounded doorway leading into the following chamber and pressed his hand squarely in the center of the console directly to the right of it. To his disdain, it flickered and gave him a nasty shock.

"AHH! Hahh!" He shrieked in pain, wagging his hand and pulling it away from the door. "Karbunkle, dear doctor..." He pressed a button directly underneath the panel. "We've been given this ship out of the blackness of the counsel's hearts, it would be nice that if I want to access my bridge..." He inhaled sharply and belted out a scream. "THAT IT WILL NOT ELECTROCUTE ME EVERY SINGLE TIME!"

"I-I'm sorry, my fish-fried one." The raspy, high pitched voice emitted through the communications unit. "Greasepit was supposed to have that fixed days ago! Here, let me open the door for you."

With a hiss, the door started to open, then with a grinding, nasty crack it stuck about halfway, allowing Limburger to take a step over the threshold before the door snapped shut behind him, yanking his mask off and revealing his hideous, fishy nature underneath. He stared at it for a moment and appeared to collect himself. "Oh, typical."

Karbunkle was at the top of the staircase as Limburger ascended to the bridge carrying the ruined mask in his hand. Discarding it carelessly to the side, he simply slid open a cabinet under the console and pulled out a new one putting it on. The scrawny mad scientist was typing at the controls which had begun smoking a bit as he doused flame after flame that sprouted up with the aid of his diminutive assistant Fred, who laughed giddily as he chased sparks around. Stepping on the discarded mask, it slipped out from under him and he tumbled down the stairs, laughing all the way until he hit the bottom. Even then, he let out a dazed giggle of enjoyment as the two villains stared at each other and shrugged.

"Doctor Karbunkle." He said as he adjusted his mask and tugged his gloves on. "Please open a communication to High Lord Camembert if you would."

Karbunkle looked at Limburger and continued to putter around the console. "E-Establishing communciations with the counsel now sir. At least... I hope it'll go through."

"For your sake, it had better." He said pressing the threat with a wide smile.

"Thirty seconds--"

Just as Karbunkle said this, there was a loud bang as Greasepit came up the stairs; a bucket had been pulled over his head as he peered at Limburger from under the mask. "Oh hello, Mister Limburger." He said.

"It's about time you got up here. Report, how much disrepair must we go through to be fully operational?"

"Well, let's see... we got no power below the prison deck. Oxygen supplies are minimal and stale, no medical supplies or crew to speak of." He pondered. "And I think the engine's got squirrels in it."

"Either that or it was meant to power this heap." Karbunkle said under his breath.

Limburger sighed. "Typical, I sweat and stink blood throughout the galaxy and this barge is all that's been given in return. I have a good mind to tell Camembert exactly what's on my--"

"The ship isn't yours, Limburger. It's on loan from the Durma Galaxy." Limburger's blood ran cold hearing the High Lord's voice behind him and he turned around to see his fellow Plutarkian staring into his own cuticles, sitting like a hologram on the display stand. "And your ungratefulness is not helping matters much."

"Oh! High Lord!" Limburger bounded toward the hologram, displaying his buttocks for their traditional greeting. The commander simply looked and recoiled in disgust.

"Sorry, no. My back has gone out again, we can dispense with the greeting for now." He said. "What is your report? I am a highly busy man, you know."

"Yes sir! As you are aware, the Martian Biker Mice have been the reason for great delays on mining out the minerals of Earth, despite my years of attempting to squash them out, they've always found a way to rebound. But I've finally managed to capture one and I am bringing him to Plutark to stand trial and execution at your discretion, sir."

"That is good news." Camembert looked at him with a shocked glance. "Good news from YOU must mean that something is wrong." He pulled up a small control pad and read through the display. "You said he was a prisoner, you aren't by any chance holding him in cell six, are you? The one which; according to all visible records, is prone to shorting out?"

Glancing at Karbunkle who then pointed at Greasepit, Limburger knew immediately that was the case; out of all the cells they had, the lunkhead had to choose the one that shorted out. A quick press to the button on the console turned off the High Lord's visage and all three of them made a run toward the door in order to get to the prison block.

"How was I supposed to know it wasn't fully operational?" Greasepit asked as they ran.

"Because you DOLT! You would have noticed the power was out in that cell!"

"I just thought it was better lighting, it was easy on my eyes."

They reached the cell and to Limburger's dismay, found it empty. The shackles keeping the mouse in place must have loosened and he was able to open them. He couldn't contain himself. "GET BACK TO THE BRIDGE! WE HAVE TO STOP HIM!"

Throttle was already running full-boar through the hallways leading toward the hangar at the back of the ship. No security guards, no drones, this was an easy escape even if he had to do it naked. He skidded to a stop and the light-brown-furred rodent spotted the bay doors had begun a slow wind down to sealing. He ran toward the opening and threw himself past the small crack just as it came to a close, narrowly missing his tail, which dragged behind him. Catching his breath, he spotted a single escape pod in the back corner. He ran to it and flipped open the hatch, sliding inside. As he began to go through activating it, he could hear the computer speak up:

"Systems online, beginning adrenaline injection for spacial distortion"

Before Throttle could do anything, six nozzles suddenly popped out of the walls from around him and injected him with a brown-colored liquid that seemed to burn its way into his system. "YYYYAHHHHHHH!" He screamed out as he thrashed throughout the pod. The injectors vanished into their alcoves and Throttle threw himself back in his chair, breathing heavily as every inch of him began to burn. "O-Okay tha-that's bad... I don't know what they injected me with but fu-uuck!" He yelled as another sudden jerk shot him into motion and the pod was launched from the bay in an instant. Flailing about, Throttle grasped the controls and he realized that he was able to steer the shuttle.

"Fire! What are you doing?! FIRE AT HIM!" Limburger shouted at Karbunkle, who had donned a scarf and had drawn his goggles down over his eyes before firing away, laughing like a madman.

The guns scattered around the shuttle, barely grazing the hull as Throttle envoked a dramatic dive toward the planet Earth below him. There was a shuttering bump and sparks began to eject throughout the small cockpit as it started to spin out of control. Limburger grinned as the ship entered its spiral and grabbed Karbunkle by the shoulders. "Now! Now finish him off!"

Karbunkle aimed another shot at the ship, ready to blow it to pieces but as he hit the fire button, the cannon exploded and threw everyone aboard to the ground. "What was that?!" Karbunkle exclaimed.

"Ahhh I think that explosion activated the hyperspeed engine..." Fred said staring into a monitor and he was quickly brushed aside by the scientist.

"WHAT?!"

"Where is it sending us to--ohhh no..." Limburger moaned as he recognized the coordinates of Plutark displayed on the screen.

As Throttle watched the ship suddenly vanish in a brilliant flash of purple and green lights, he smiled in relief, but his relief was short lived as he found himself careening toward Earth. "Not enough thruster to aim for Chicago, but we'll see where we can get." He said.

Hunter yawned as he baked under the light from the sun, wearing a pair of sunglasses that Blitz proclaimed "are the best in beachwear style" he was surprised that the rest of his team hadn't come along with him on this summer vacation that they all needed. Colleen had traveled to her hometown of London to visit family; Exile, having heard nothing particularly exciting about it headed to Delaware to see what that state was all about while Blitz and Shag remained at the base, uninterested in going out for vacation. He really felt the need to play some fetch, but no one around there seemed interested in throwing a ball for him to play with.

The crowd was small today, the sun was warm and Hunter was lying around in a pair of neon green swim shorts that hadn't even gotten wet yet.

Suddenly, he spotted an object in the sky. Lowering his sunglasses a bit, he could see a streak of light that flashed into a shape headed straight for the beach. He quickly got up and shouted. "Everyone! Get off the beach! Something's coming down!" No one heard him, or at least no one was paying attention to him as he groaned. "Oh for crying out--go! Go! Go!" He shouted again as he leaped from his chair and at a super fast speed, blinked across the beach, leaving a trail of fire behind him as he ran. He gathered up two and sometimes three humans at a time, quickly depositing them outside the beach's perimeter as he moved to each civilian. Stopping to catch his breath he looked around. "Is everyone alright? Where--"

"Snoopy!" A little kid shrieked and Hunter turned to see a single pitbull bouncing around a frisbee on the edge of the water.

Hunter sped over, he could hear the sound of the object whistling as it fell directly toward their location. Snatching the dog up, he escaped the impact just in the nick of time though the force of the explosion knocked him off his feet and sent him tumbling to the ground. Rising and returning the dog dizzily to his owner he beckoned to the crowd. "Okay everyone, I'm gonna need you to clear out! I'll take care of this..." He turned to see a mouse staggering from the shuttle. A muscular mouse--with antennas coming out of his head. Hunter swallowed nervously. "At least---I think I will? Go!" He shouted, but he didn't have to convince the humans who were already running at the sight of an alien arriving on their shores. "They don't bat an eye at me, but some guy with antennas comes crashing down and suddenly it's all running--and screaming..." he said to no one in particular. He stood upright and made his way toward the alien. "Alright, stop right there? Who are you? What do you want?"