After a few long months, another chapter of this "Sesame, DC" tale arrives. Enjoy.
Chapter Four
What a wonderful feeling it was to be on a porkout with Kimiko, Clay, Raimundo, and Mr. Wayne, who was wearing the special outfit that he got from Mr. Fox and a black mask that hid his face very well. We others were wearing special outfits as well—special black Xiaolin uniforms that shroud our appearances, as we stood on the rooftops of Gotham City with one of our new friends from Sesame Street, Count von Count.
“
Gordon and that poor excuse for a cop, Flass, have entered the station.” Detective Sean Thomas said over the talkie-walkie.
“OK. We’re going in.” Mr. Wayne responded, not long before he tossed our walkie-talkie to Count. “You keep watch from these rooftops. If we don’t get back before fifteen seconds, tell Thomas and Alfred to go on without us.” That was most noble of Mr. Wayne to suggest…but it was also most troubling, seeing as how a task like the one we were going to handle would take much longer than fifteen seconds.
“I will start counting as soon as you five start climbing.” Count had promised, and as we immediately start climbing through the shadows, Count immediately started counting.
“He must really do that a lot where he comes from.” Raimundo commented, concerning Count.
“I just hope our butts are out of the room, before he gets to fifteen.” Kimiko said, and when Count was on number five, we were inside the building at the highest floor, where we spotted an old man (not as old as Master Fung, but a little close) who Mr. Wayne and Detective Thomas called Detective Gordon. When we came through the window, Detective Gordon had his back to us, giving the opportunity for Kimiko, Clay, Raimundo, and I to grab him and tie him up in the chair that he was sitting in, while Mr. Wayne turned off the lights and slammed a book that had a very peculiar title about bats on Detective Gordon’s desk.
“Don’t turn around.” Mr. Wayne told Detective Gordon from behind. I was very puzzled over the way he was pressing a stapler against his back, but I did not bother to ask any questions, seeing as how crucial our task was at the moment.
“What do you want?” Detective Gordon had asked.
“I’ve been watching. You’re a good cop. One of the few.” Mr. Wayne had replied, and then he followed with a question of his own to ask Detective Gordon, bringing up a name that I had heard all too much in recent days. “What would it take to get Falcone?”
“Carmine Falcone?” Detective Gordon remarked as if he was very surprised that Mr. Wayne brought up that name.
“He brings in shipments of drugs every week, but no one takes him down.” Mr. Wayne had said. “Why is that?”
“Because he’s paid up with the right people.” Detective Gordon had told Mr. Wayne. “Only leverage on Judge Phelan and a D.A. brave enough to prosecute would be two good ways to take down Falcone.”
“Hey, doesn’t that woman who Detective Thomas mentioned before work in the D.A.’s office? What’s her name? Rachel Dawes?” Raimundo asked, and little did he know of how much he had sucked our pillow. I could tell from the most awkward look on Detective Gordon’s face that he was beginning to suspect our appearance.
“Who are you people?” Detective Gordon had inquired.
“Watch for a sign.” Mr. Wayne had uttered, and I had no idea whatsoever by what he meant from that statement.
“Am I dealing with just one man here?” Detective Gordon had asked.
“No…We are two.” Mr. Wayne had remarked, and before I had the chance to even think about what he had said, we were untying Detective Gordon and fleeing out of the window in a divided second, climbing back onto the rooftop and joining Count, who had just finished counting to fifteen.
“Count, tell Thomas and Alfred to get the car ready, we’re…” Before Mr. Wayne could finish, a door had opened nearby, and Detective Gordon appeared with two officers.
“Uh-oh! Time to high fin!” I had yelled.
“That’s high
tail, little partner!” Clay had corrected me, just as we all had run to the edge of the roof. We had seen how enormous the gap was between the rooftop we were on and the one far ahead of us, but we did not let it stop us. The six of us had leaped very high and yet we were dropping very fast, missing the top by a foot. However, we were able to grab hold of a balcony below, but it broke away after and left us dropping to the one further down. We were all very winded but felt very lucky to still be alive.
“Let’s get the heck out of here.” Kimiko said, not long before we all disappeared into the shadows.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The following morning, I went with Mr. Wayne and my friends (Dojo, Clay, Kimiko, Raimundo, Count, Oscar, and Detective Thomas) to see Mr. Fox again at Mr. Wayne’s Science of Divisions Supplied (at least, I believe that was what it was called). Mr. Fox asked Mr. Wayne if he came for more tools to do his “spelunking” with, but Mr. Wayne came for the opposite reason. He had come to get some equipment that would help him do some “base-jumping.” Though I had no idea what that was, I knew that Mr. Wayne would use the tools for
other purposes.
“We’ve got suction pads, grapples, and this neat thing.” Mr. Fox had said, right before he opened a metal box and pulled out a most intimidating gun and harness.
“What’s that little toy?” Oscar the Grouch had asked, and I was quick to correct him on the way he indicated the object, telling him that it was not a toy. His only response to me was, “Shut up, lemon-head!”
“Pneumatic, magnetic grapple. Monofilament tested to 350 pounds.” Mr. Fox had said, speaking a language that I could not quite understand.
“350 pounds? That is most definitely a lot of pounds for one simple gun.” Count had said, while Mr. Wayne had felt the weight, not long before he picked up the harness that it went with.
“Too expensive for the army?” Mr. Wayne had asked, just as Mr. Fox had taken the gun away from him.
“Guess they never thought about marketing to the billionaire base-jumping, spelunking market.” Mr. Wayne could seem to sense a mocking attitude from Mr. Fox, and so did I. “Look, Mr. Wayne, if you don’t tell me what you’re really doing, then when I get asked…I don’t have to lie. But could you and your companions not treat me like an idiot please?” Mr. Wayne looked over at me, and then he looked to the others.
“Fair enough.” We had all said together, just before Kimiko walked to another part of the room and indicating another creation of Mr. Fox’s.
“What does this do?” Kimiko had asked, moving her delicate female hands through a sheet of black fabric, while Mr. Fox put on a black glove.
“Memory fabric. Dual layer polymers with variable alignment molecules.” Mr. Fox grabbed the fabric and the most remarkable thing had happened. The fabric instantly popped into the rigid shape of a small tent.
“Most intriguing!” I had said, while pushing on the tent and feeling the fascinating strength of it.
“Can it make other shapes?” Detective Thomas had asked, and with the slightest touch, Mr. Fox had made the tent collapse.
“It could be tailored to any structure based on a rigid skeleton.”
“I bet if Telly were here, he’d ask for something else shaped like a triangle.” Oscar had said, and Mr. Fox had given Mr. Wayne the black glove, allowing him to take the black fabric and flick it in a whipping motion. He had the most ponderous look on his face that was quickly wiped off, as soon as he noticed yet another interesting creation.
“What’s beneath this tarp over here?” He had asked, and we all had turned to see some type of vehicle covered by an enormous tarp that covered it at all sides, except for the huge tires.
“The Tumbler?” Mr. Fox had said, with a playful smile on his most kindly face. “Oh, you all wouldn’t be interested in that.”
“Well, in that case, can we get outta here then?” Oscar had asked, and we all had given him mean looks for nearly ruining our opportunity to see what this Tumbler was like.
A short moment later, we all were given one marvelous ride inside the Tumbler vehicle, with Mr. Wayne using billions of controls to drive it. Kimiko, Clay, Raimundo, and I were screaming (in a good way) from the twists and turns, while Mr. Fox and Detective Thomas were smiling with glee. Count von Count was gazing at the controls and counting the numbers on them, and Oscar the Grouch was hiding in his garbage can, where he was screaming not so happily.
“One hundred miles…Two hundred miles…Four hundred miles…”
“TOO MANY MILES!!!!” Oscar had yelled from within his trashcan, as Mr. Fox shouted over the loud engine.
“She was built as a bridging vehicle!” He pointed to one particular button in the vehicle. “You hit that button and it boosts her into a rampless jump!”
“It looks like it could’ve made one superb military vehicle!” Detective Thomas had complimented, also shouting over the loud engine.
“I’ll say! In combat, two of them jump a river towing cables, then ran a bailey bridge cross!” Mr. Fox had remarked. “The bridge never worked, but this baby works fine!” I still have no idea why he addressed the vehicle as an infant.
“For real!” Detective Thomas had said. “A forward-slung gunner’s driving position between our legs, video screens, electronic controls, and windows with heads-up display.” Mr. Wayne had increased the speed on the vehicle, and we burned the rubber down the road, until we came to a complete stop.
“Zero! That’s
zero miles!” Count had said.
“Oh, will you shut up!” Oscar had told him.
“That was so wicked!!” Kimiko had shouted.
“Most exciting!” I had stated.
“Woo-wee! That was more fun than an old-fashioned rodeo!” Clay had exclaimed.
“Man, I’d take this thing to the beach any day of the week!” Raimundo had yelled, as Mr. Fox turned to Mr. Wayne and smiled.
“So…what do
you think?” He had asked, and Mr. Wayne looked at him, smiling as well.
“Does it come in black?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Later that same day in Mr. Wayne’s bat cave, we had commenced with our plans to track down Carmine Falcone and kick his evil butt. Unfortunately, by the wishes of Mr. Wayne, we were demanded to stay in his mansion and not come with him. This was much to our displeasure, for we had assisted him in stopping Ra’s Al Ghul and saving Mr. Ducard, and we deserved the chance at helping him stop more evildoers. As he was grinding some metal object, we attempted to alter his thoughts.
“Come on, dude!” Raimundo had exclaimed. “It’s not like we hadn’t faced any dangers before. Let us come with you, man!”
“Going up against Carmine Falcone should be a task for me—and me only—to handle. It’s not like fighting other skilled warriors.” Mr. Wayne had told us, and Detective Thomas came to help in his defense.
“Besides, these guys will have guns and all sorts of other dangerous weapons in their arsenal.” Detective Thomas had mentioned. “And trust us when we say that they won’t hesitate to shoot a bunch of meddling kids…or mini-monks.” Raimundo, Kimiko, and Clay just scoffed at the warnings of Mr. Wayne and Detective Thomas, as they all stormed out of the bat cave. I was quite offended myself, but it did not stop me from asking one important question to Mr. Wayne, as he finished grinding his metal object into a most strange design.
“There is one thing that most puzzles me.” I had said to him. “Why do you choose to be the symbol of a bat?” Before Mr. Wayne could answer my question, Count and Oscar had entered and interrupted him.
“Why not a bat?” Count had asked. “They are the most thrilling creatures on the planet…and they can see in the dark.”
“Oh, gimme a break.” Oscar had uttered. “He’s choosin’ bats ‘cause they’re irritating. And what a way to chase off bad guys than to irritate them to death.”
“Is that true?” I had asked Mr. Wayne, and he simply just shook his head and grinned.
“You’re both wrong.” He had said. “Bats frighten me. And it’s time my enemies shared my dread.” Mr. Wayne took the metal object that was shaped like a bat and threw it towards the cave wall, clinging against it instantly.
“Impressive. Most impressive.” I had said.
END OF CHAPTER FOUR