Chapter 1

Wednesday, May 12th 2010, 01:37 PM.

At Chop 'N' Fry, the incredible amount of people seemed to burst the own restaurant. Geez, how could these people of N. Sanity Island be so hungry? Serving lunches on large plates every single five minutes sure gets annoying after a while. Loudness and ordinary conversations between the ones who were enjoying on the tables were some of the disadvantages, major fact that working there as a waitress would be a kind of a hell work.

Amelia Bandicoot and Pasadena O'Possum were two of the few waitresses, once the restaurant itself wasn't huge enough to hire more. This was sort of a job that twenty-three-year-old Amelia never wanted in her life; serving food to almost everybody she barely knows at all, by giving them fifteen minutes long prepared meals. Back and forth, back and forth. It was just beyond than tiresome.

"I swear, Pasadena, if this wasn't to pay the rent of my and Crash's apartment, I wouldn't even put here a foot." Amelia complained, as she barely arrived into the kitchen to place plates back into the same worktop while picking new ones to take.

"Me neither." She replied, washing the dirty dishes in the washbasin. "I only accepted this job to see if I could gain my own earnings, since Von Clutch's MotorWorld went to... you know... bankruptcy." Pasadena added, shivering. "I hope he reopens it one day, though. I miss racing like hell."

"I think both we weren't born to serve other people's mouths."

"You just got that right."

In the moment the chief called the black female bandicoot's name to cut girly talking and go back to work, Amelia left the worktop as quickly as possible, narrowly not having any accidents by passing through those nomad and sitting people everywhere she'd turn. Achieving to a table, Amelia asked.

"Did anyone ask a grilled steak with fries?" She inquired out loud so that the men could hear her. In the second they turned their heads at the bandicoot waitress, the same old conflicts began.

"I did ask a grilled steak with mashed potato, not fries." One of the men told her, a little upset.

"What I asked was not even a steak, all I wanted was a salmon with boiled potato and broccoli." The other, however, almost protested. Rolling her eyes and sighing hard, Amelia had no choice but to 'apologize' to the customers.

"Sorry, I must've mistaken the table..." Amelia said, grumbling to herself as she turned her back to the men. God, she really hated this place.

"Grilled steak with fries, ma'am?" She asked for the third or fourth time as she approached to another table. Remarkably, the woman nodded.

"Yes dear, that's what I've asked. Thank you." The woman politely smiled. In the moment Amelia put the plate in front of the kangaroo woman, her young son - who was occasionally eating two balls of ice cream in a cup for some reason -, decided to play a prank by putting a ball of cold ice cream inside one of the pockets of Amelia's suit, smudging it with strawberry flavor on purpose. When she found out, she glared into the kid's eyes, who was now laughing at her pink and dirty restaurant suit. Man, what a brat...

Finally returning to the worktop to deliver more plates, the female bandicoot walked past Pasadena, with a more unfriendly facial expression than before. Pissed off, she couldn't contain it to herself.

"I hate kids." Amelia muttered.

Noticing the wet spot in her suit, the female opossum couldn't help but laugh.

"You'll get accustomed to 'em."

Twenty-two-year-old Crash Bandicoot was boxing with his brother-figure Crunch, inside his recently purchased small apartment that he and Amelia have bought a few weeks ago. Though that the orange adult bandicoot was never interested in Crunch's tastes, he thought that learning a bit of boxing would somehow improve his unpractised muscular structure.

"You're doin' fine, fella." Crunch said, giving him a few slight punches on his face to study his reaction. Sweating from the tips of his dark auburn mohawk, Crash stopped, panting due to the endeavor with his hands on his knees.

"So? Am I still a weak like you always thought I was?" He asked, with a silly smile pasted on his face.

"Hmm, you're indeed a bit better, yes." The burgundy bandicoot shrugged, unsure. "But it's still not enough. Come on, shorty; bring it on!"

And so the two fought for another five long minutes, until their ears caught someone opening and closing the front door. Without surprise, it was Amelia, who was equally annoyed and tired, as she arrived into the boys' living room to sit on the couch for standing all day.

"Hey Ame." Crash greeted, cleaning his sweaty forehead with his hand, with his good-humored smile that even could change the airs. But, instead, Amelia didn't say anything, only exchanging a deep yet a quick sigh. Worried, Crash sat next to her.

"You all right?" He placed a hand around her shoulder. Amelia eventually turned her hazel eyes into his greenish ones, not sure what precise mood she was at the moment.

"Yeah, I'm okay." She told him. "I'm just concerned of how we're going to go through this..."

Crash frowned. "How so?"

She scowled at him. "Crash, we're engaged." Amelia stated. "Money doesn't fall from the sky, unfortunately. I don't know how long I'll keep this stupid job."

Hearkening their conversation, Crunch stopped his turn, bringing a clean white towel upon his large shoulders, as he decided to join them.

"C'mon, fellas, I'm sure you'll solve that thing in no problem." Crunch remarked, trying to encourage the young couple. "You two are best friends for over six years, and you both survived the worst, right?"

"I know, Crunch, but this is a slightly different thing." Amelia said.

"Well, why don't Crash go to find a job then?" He suggested. "He only eats and takes naps all day anyway."

The adult bandicoot widened his eyes, turning abruptly his head at the brawny bandicoot in utter surprise.

"Wow, wow, I admit that I'm lazy, but I do really, really have to do that I'm thinking you guys are... thinking?" Crash dared to inquire, swallowing slowly. Crunch and Amelia nodded their heads.

"Yes Crash, I think you really have to start finding a job for you, too." The black female bandicoot folded her arms. Even so, Crash hesitated.

"Can't it be for another time?" He urged.

"When? In a month? Six months? A year?" She tried to guess. "Crash, you need to get over your laziness. It's taking over you."

"And you don't wanna see your wedding ruined, do you?" Crunch frowned an eyebrow.

"Crunch, the wedding will be in two weeks." Crash reaffirmed. "You guys just need to take it easy."

"I can imagine you being on the couch watching TV while Amelia is washing up the floor..."

Offended, Amelia punched the burgundy bandicoot's arm.

"Ouch! What did I do?" He glared at her, rubbing his arm out of pain.

"Crash, if you want our wedding to work, then just do a simple favor for me." Amelia stated, placing her hands on her hips. "Get your pants dressed, go to the employment center immediately, try to find a decent job that can repay my already low salary, and return home right after."

"But-"

"No buts. Just do it." She ordered.

And, upset, Crash finally rose up from the couch, heading towards his bedroom against his own will to pick up his clothes, and leave the apartment.

It was 8:00 PM, and it was starting to grow dark. Crash has left his apartment for about thirty minutes, walking on foot through the sidewalks of the surroundings of the N. Sanity City until the employment center. The evening was cold, making the gray jacket that Crash has dressed in the last minute not enough to warm him up. Tsk tsk, he really did wish that his fianceé, soon-to-be wife within a fortnight, wouldn't be so sissy about what he thought to be pointless stuff. Sure, he was already in the age of finding a more serious job, but Crash was still stuck in his old system; getting lazy all morning and afternoon by eating Wumpa fruits, and taking a nap twice a day. It was just too hard to let those good old times go.

"(Why doesn't she borrow Rick's money instead?)" Crash thought to himself, still a bit annoyed for leaving at the wrong time. "(That guy has more money than his sister for being a military pilot and lives in a better house than mine... and doesn't do nothing, which is worse. No, what's even worse is that he's dating with my own sister, Coco... gosh, I hate that blonde crackhead.)"

All of a sudden, Crash felt a tiny yet stinging sensation that someone was watching his moves and, without him noticing, following him. The young adult bandicoot stopped drastically, turning his head back to see if there was anyone else near by, and nothing did answer his weird and inexplicable feeling. Reconsidering that it was just his plain imagination, he kept on with his life.

A few minutes later, Crash almost seemed to see the guy who was walking mysteriously behind him, although this time he disappeared for complete before he even had the chance to picture him in this mind. These stalkers, how they're so fucking annoying. Getting on his nerves but slowly, Crash continued, with his eyes discreetly peeled to the person who was presumably wanting something from him, attentive...

Achieving to a café, Crash entered inside as fast as possible to hide behind one of the walls, spying the stranger to see if he was really looking for him. Oddly, he kept walking forward, not seeming to care if the bandicoot went to another direction. Relieved, Crash put his hands in his dark-blue jeans', turning his back to head himself until the counter to ask something else to soothe his tension.

"One coffee, please." He told the shop assistant. Less than a minute later, the man gave him a bottle of hot coffee.

"There ya go, boy." And he left the counter.

Drinking the bottle in a jolt, Crash almost choked, trying despairingly to breathe normally after some coffee liquid entering into his lungs. Man, his day wasn't really ocurring that well, but he nevertheless drank the bottle until the end. And, after tossing a few pennies to the counter to eventually leave that entertaining place, he did.

But, much for his amazement and dismay, that certain someone punched Crash's muzzle, knocking him down so briefly that the next thing he automatically remembered was waking up lied on the ground. Incapable to identify the mysterious guy due to being hidden inside an uncanny suit with a hood covering his face, Crash escaped, running at his maximum speed as the stranger also ran to chase him.

Close to knock almost everybody that was peacefully walking on the sidewalks, Crash kept running like a lunatic, jumping every obstacle with the purpose to divert the stalker. But the plan didn't work. Arriving to a deserted local with no possible way out, with only full garbage cans and nasty trash everywhere he'd turn his eyes, Crash surrendered, talking face-to-face for the first time.

"What the hell do you want from me?" The young adult demanded out loud. The stranger merely smirked, his face still hidden beneath the shadows.

"You might remember me, but now all I want to do is my job." He withdrew a gun from inside the suit, aiming the weapon at his target. Uptight, Crash tried to change his mind.

"H-hey, what are you do-"

"Shut up."

As a deadly bullet got fired from the gun, Crash lowered his head barely a second before the stranger could pull out the trigger, but it was too late as the bullet went through his shoulder, leaving a round hole marked in it. Fainted and bleeding, Crash didn't know if he'd either scream for help, or just stay there trying to lift up from the unforeseen situation with an uneasy wound.

"Try to move another muscle and I'll kill you." The stranger warned him simply and clearly, putting a boot upon his stomach to be assured that he wouldn't run away. Suddenly, Crash heard a cell phone ringing.

"Yes?"

"(Did you catch him?)"

"Yes, I did. I'll bring him right away."

"(Finally. Just don't forget to bring the rat alive.)"

"He is alive, sir. I'm not stupid."

"(Good, good. Bring him to my lab without delays. I'm waiting.)"

Hanging up the phone, the stranger saved it again into his pocket, and dragged Crash carelessly with his gun always pointed behind his back...