Part 1: I Have a Cause, You Idiot!
A Kutlass Piece of Work
Disclaimer: Swat Kats: The Radical Squadron is © Hanna-Barbera
Author's Note: I was motivated to start writing this out of pure annoyance with all the political ads flooding the air-waives this mid-term election season. I could think of no better way to vent my frustration than putting the citizens of Megakat City, and you dear readers, through some ridiculous political satire. Don't try to read too much into it all, because its not really serious enough to take all that seriously. You dig?
It was a hazy, smog-filled day in Megakat City. The pigeons were cooing, the roaches were hissing, and trash fluttered lazily across the bustling streets and alleyways. Even the rats weren't coming up from the sewers for air. Commander Feral sat staunchly in his dual-exhaust SUV, a scowl etched across his muzzle.
"This city stinks," He declared, "Megalomaniacs, killer robots, and aliens aside, this place has really gone to the litter box! Twenty years I've been here, and still, nothing ever changes or seems to improve. This place is exactly the same as it was in the 90's!"
"Yes, sir," Steele affirmed, throwing back a cocktail of prescription medication. He was securely buckled into the passenger seat. "Why anyone still lives and works here is a mystery to me. I'm only staying because I'm locked into a 20 year lease with my condo. It's how I got such a great price on it."
"I thought you got out of your lease when it burned down from that chopper crash a year ago?"
"Apparently, the fine print says the contract is only void if it was a total loss. Since there was technically one wall still standing, I'm stuck with it."
"Bureaucracy at its finest! If you weren't with me at the moment, I'd be awfully impressed. For your sake, however, I'm appalled!"
"The lean-to I've fashioned from plastic bags and cereal boxes isn't so bad. And I've finally gotten that skylight I've always wanted," Steele mused, "It's just a shame my unit happens to be next to the new landfill, feedlot, and fertilizer plants the Mayor just approved. The 'triple threat,' as the hazmat guys call it."
"Oh, so that explains the smell." Feral cranked the A/C up a little higher.
Steele heaved a long, slow sigh. "I sure wish someone would look out for the little guys like me."
"Mmm, yes," Feral disliked how uncomfortable his smelly Lieutenant made him feel when he started getting all downtrodden like this. He quickly turned on the radio to drown out the whining.
"Are you caught in a lease or mortgage you can't escape? Are you living in squalor because your home was recently destroyed by an Enforcer unit engaging a super villain? Are you forced to reside next to an unpleasantly odorous factory?"
Steele's ears perked, and he quickly reached out to turn the volume dial up.
"Then you are in the minority! Megakat City continues to putter along, thanks to the continued efforts of our very own Mayor Manx. This November, remember to cast your vote for Mayor Manx - again! Because status quo, is the way to go!"
Steele moaned, turning in his seat. "That's it - I can't take it anymore!" He pressed his hand against the window, and jammed his other hand onto the automatic window controls.
"Steele, what are you -?"
"I've had enough! I'm jumping!"
"From a full-sized SUV?! Stop talking crazy, soldier, and roll that window back up!"
Steele sulked backed into his seat, obediently rolling his window back up.
"It's just not right, sir. I'll never get the life I deserve, because there's never a candidate that will give it to me! Manx never comes up against real competition during the election cycle, anyway."
Feral sat pondering this a moment, stroking his four whiskers, which he always sharpened to a fine point every morning. He pondered so long and hard, the two of them sat through the green light at their intersection. This created quite an uproar behind them, as the size of Feral's massive SUV took up both lanes of traffic.
After his long, ponderous pause, Feral finally spoke. "I don't revel in saying this Steele, but you may be right."
Steele blinked at the Commander, remaining silent.
"We are the 73% who live marginally tolerable lives compared to the rest of the world," The Commander pounded his steering wheel with gusto, "We deserve better!"
"I mainly just care about myself, sir."
"This city deserves a leader who cares about its katizens following the rules! A leader who is tough, but fair. A leader who has a keen sense of justice, and the toughness to carry it out. One who will set up a perimeter first and ask questions later. It needs someone who's unafraid to do the right thing… toughly!"
"Hey ya' moron!"
The blare of a car horn was followed by a flurry of expletives, all coming from the Boy Scout carpool directly behind them, "Move your dual-exhaust eco-killer out of the way! We're calling the Enforcers!"
"Do you hear that, Steele?"
"Yes, quite clearly, Commander."
"They're calling for us. This populace is unruly and belligerent, because it's at the breaking point. It needs *me* to whip it back into shape."
Feral's chest swelled with pride and new-found purpose. He leaned out his window, waving his baton at the cars behind them.
"Back off, Boy Scouts! You're heckling the next Mayor of Megakat City!"
Steele peered at the Commander in disbelief. He wasn't sure whether to laugh, cry, or get out and call a cab. However, at that very moment, the smog-laden clouds parted in the sky, and a ray of light shown down from the heavens. Ferals' gargantuan chin was illuminated in a blinding golden beam. The chorus of angry car horns behind them seemed to swell in unison. It may have been the medication talking, but Steel could have sworn the honking oddly resembled that old, patriotic Enforcer anthem, "Harken to Thine Back, Ye Winged-Chariot."
Maybe, just maybe, Commander Feral really was the only candidate capable of ending the Manx era.