Disclaimer: Kim Possible was created by Mark McCorkle and Bob Schooley, not me. This is just a fan fic.
Hello, and welcome to my first Kim Possible fic ever written. I don't want to give too much away, but I'll give you a few hints now that you've read the summary. An old villain returns and Kim is put in a very.. hmm.. let's say.. awkward situation. Hehehee. You'll see what I mean in the chapters ahead. Do NOT overlook this boring prologue just because Kim and Ron are not introduced yet. Trust me, it's very important to the story. I promise Kim and Ron goodness in Chapter 1. D Enjoy.
Timeline: The story begins a few months after the episodes 'Emotion Sickness' and 'Bad Boy' but BEFORE 'So the Drama'.
A thunderstorm could not have reflected his mood more perfectly. The sound of thunder pounded powerfully, but far away for him to reach. He needed that strength now more than ever. Another flash followed, blinding his senses for a slight moment. He decided it was enough, and pressed a small red button on a remote control that triggered a black wall, sliding over the wet window.
For Jack Hench and his company, Hench Co., business was dying far quicker than expected. No, that was a lie; he never expected productivity to decrease. He was at the top of his game ever since the 2004 super villain convention. Nevertheless, the unexpected flew past him. The company was only holding onto a few strings that were already snapping as he did nothing that night but listen to the pattering rain. What could he do? Business could never peak up with the statistics he received from last few weeks.
Mr. Hench exhaled loudly as he made his way back to his desk. The Hench Co. headquarters was very quiet that night. He vowed not to return home until he figured out how to keep his company from going bankrupt, which was definitely inevitable. Three weeks of living off of coffee and candy bars from the dispenser. His position was becoming critical. Co-workers clearly recognized this and tried their best to recommend the man some help, but Hench was without doubt that he was in control.
He placed his index finger on the edge of his half-empty coffee cup, slowly moving it around the thick Styrofoam. The liquid was not doing him good anymore. He knew very well that it was diminishing his health, along with the artificial junk food, but he vowed not to step out of his office until he had a clear, flawless plan.
About a meter from his desk stood three tall stacks of papers, two with newspapers dated as old as two months ago to as new as yesterday. Every weekday morning his secretary would slowly enter his office, provide the man with coffee and a fresh newspaper issue, and now and then, a few papers regarding the company's statistics. Many times she would ask Mr. Hench if there was something wrong, but each time he waved her off once she finished her task. Nobody would dare enter the room, and very soon, people began leaving the company without notice. Hench tried to force himself to care, but he was too conceited to bother.
As a blast of thunder hit once more, he grabbed a handful of the newspaper stack with both hands and flung it across the room. The papers fluttered out of their neat package and scattered across the floor.
"This is bullshit. Why can't life ever be easy?" he said out loud without a care. A few months ago, he would not have done something like this. He never envisioned his own downfall, because in his deceived mind, failure did not exist.
His loss of sanity returned to realization of his actions. After brushing the short bristles on his face with his hand, he bent down and began cleaning up the mess.
Mr. Hench stretched his hand as he picked up a piece of newspaper that had a slight rip at the side. When his hand was placed on the paper, his thumb and index finger was positioned in a way that made it look like a large 'L'. In the one corner of the angle, he noticed a typed name. Dr. Cyrus Bortel. Why this unique name caught his interest, he could not know. Nevertheless, he took the article with him as he brought himself up to his feet.
He placed the paper on his desk and turned on the lamp. The fluorescent light caused a sharp pain to his eyes. He needed to close them for a few seconds before they could adjust. His vision was still blurry, but as long as he squinted, the problem was not too grave. With both arms as his support over the desk, he began by reading the title of the article:Government Agencies involved with Late Night Auction Disappointed
Government Agencies that took part in last night's auction to open doors to new inventors were not pleased with the outcome of one Dr. Cyrus Bortel. The men were eagerly waiting to bid on his new invention, the Moodulator. Dr. Bortel explains that the Moodulator 'works to stimulate the brain waves of an individual, causing them to fluctuate through different kinds of emotions, depending on what the remote control demands.' The creation was promising, but ended in dissatisfaction. On the night of the auction opening, Dr. Bortel announced on the auction website that the Moodulators (only two were produced by the inventor) were ultimately lost. When a reporter visited his workplace to interview him, he accepted but seemed very nervous and self-contradicting during the conversation. "I'm terribly sorry for what has happened," Dr. Bortel said during the interview, but he has not heard a word of forgiveness from anyone just yet. What could have been a great change in the world today has now gone astray due to the carelessness and possible deceit of one individual.
"Moodulator.." Hench said aloud to himself. Looking over Bortel's definition of the invention several times, he could not help but dwell in fascination. A device that could modify a human's emotions.. it did not differ far from his own invention, the Attitudinator, which erased the balance of good and bad in a person, leaving him or her with only one side. This device was created for villains who did not feel evil enough; therefore they would eliminate all good inside of them. The gadget was a definite success at the villain convention; he was able to sell over three hundred packages within the first day of the weekend con.
Unfortunately, the end of the weekend convention meant the end of the success. "It's their fault, isn't it..." he whispered while pushing his hand into the desk, listening to the creak of the dry wood. He was referring to the incident at the convention between Dr. Drakken and Zorpox. Word had quickly gone out about the problem that had occurred. Not more than a day later, statistics showed that productivity was decreasing. No other reason could be reached; Hench Co. did not have competitors selling the same product, so what else could it have been? It was them for certain.
His thinking process was beginning to take large skips. He had not eaten anything decent in so many days. However, he believed that the picture was very much clear to him; he needed to get back to the top, and he would do anything to get there.
Even use this.. Dr. Bortel.
Turning on his computer database, he began typing in the search bar. His hands shook uncontrollably as he hit the keyboard, but this was easily ignored. Hench tapped into the security information from the convention. Every single person who entered that convention had to put their first and last name on the list. If he could find that information from the boy who dressed up as Zorpox, that was one step completed.
After five minutes of searching, he was already able to get over fifty images of the boy walking around the convention with a friend who appeared to be in some sort of feline costume. Who she was did not concern him at that moment. Hench also witnessed images from the fighting incident, where the good and bad side divided and was consumed by two individuals: Dr. Drakken and that boy. He knew so much of Dr. Drakken; he could have created a website dedicated to him, so he was not an issue.
The next thing he tapped into was the list of attendees to the convention. This process could have taken the rest of the night, but Mr. Hench knew the system too well to waste that sort of time. Within another five minutes, he had found a match.
It could be a fake name, Hench thought to himself. It is commonly done in conventions, where individuals tend to write their names as the character that captures their interest. He had never heard of a Ron Stoppable, so the name being factual could very well be possible. But then again, he never heard of Zorpox either.
Moving out of the convention database, he took a dangerous risk and hacked into Middleton's home security system. Stoppable sounded like such a rare name.. it was still possible. Tracking.. tracking.. tracking..
He found a result. Just one result.
"Wow.. what luck," he said as he smiled, which he had not done in months. He printed out the information and crammed it into his brief case.
The first part of his quickly-growing plan had been complete. Now he had to make a trip to see Dr. Bortel. As he made his way to the door of his office, he realized he had not stepped out of the room in days. The office became a new home to him, and going out would mean making sure that he did not come that close to failure ever again.
Hench tightly wrapped his hand around the knob and turned it with all his might. He slammed the door behind him, letting a few extra newspapers flying across the room. One of the headlines of an old edition had a familiar name on it..
Rocking back and forth on his immovable chair, his shivering fingers trying to rest on top of each other, Dr. Cyrus Bortel struggled to persuade himself to get some rest, but the voice in his head ultimately gave up. He had not slept one good night since that day when his Moodulators broke down thanks to Kim Possible. He knew very well that there was no other choice, but he did not look forward to the stress of telling the government officials a lie on that dreadful night. There was absolutely no other way. How could he possibly tell them that the Moodulator chips were accidentally placed on two unaware women who just happened to be Kim Possible and Dr. Drakken's assistant, Shego? Either way, truth or lie, they were not going to be happy. The last thing Bortel wanted to recall was the crude emails and angered calls. The only hint of joy to think from all this was the negative feedback was proof that people were truly looking forward to own his new invention.
Dr. Bortel held no anger towards Kim Possible because he knew that it was a mistake. His first impression was that someone had stolen his Moodulator chips and remote control, but once he heard the story, he slowly understood and trusted the heard judgment. But what would he do now? His reputation was scarred. If he created another set of Moodulators, which was possible but needed extra time, who would trust his word again? Second chances were rarely given in the inventing industry. That was the trouble. Bortel had nowhere to go now.
He remembered that he left a small glass of Brandy on the edge of his desk in the other room, but he no longer had the desire to wipe his mind free by means of alcohol consumption. He needed to think clearly for once and decide what his next move would be. Should he continue his work in hopes of a possible reconsideration from the government officials? Should he quit completely and consider a different career? After much thought, he realized there were many choices; it all came down to which was the right one to pursue.
There were three harsh knocks at the door which disrupted Dr. Bortel's thinking process. "Who would come to my door at this time of night.. or even in this kind of weather?" he said as he walked out of the kitchen. He fixated on the entrance. He could have definitely made a simple excuse not to answer it; he could pretend he was sleeping or perhaps not even be there at all.
Two hard knocks followed during his pondering. Then again, it could be urgent news. Perhaps this was the light that he was searching for after all the misfortune he encountered since that incident a few months ago. Things were not getting any better, so why should he not take just one more chance?
For some reason, he felt concerned with his appearance, for he was not properly dressed. It was late in the night, and he was already in his night robe and gray slippers. Nevertheless, he continued onwards to the door of his small home. He unlatched the lock above the knob and slowly turned it to get a first glimpse of his visitor.
The first thing Dr. Bortel saw was a sudden flash of lighting which completely threw off his balance despite the spark being at a reasonable distance from his home. This caused him to let go of the door, allowing it to fly open with the help of some wind from the storm. Bortel was able to keep himself up by grabbing onto the edge of a nearby chair. His closed his eyes and inhaled after experiencing such a thrill. He then remembered that someone was waiting there. As he opened his eyes he could see that the person was still there, standing at the opening. A great pound of thunder followed the observance.
"C- can I h.. help you?" Bortel asked with a slight shiver in his speech. It was pitch black outside, and the only source of light was a dimly lit lamp in his living room. But it was not enough for him to clearly see who the figure was.
"I'm sorry to bother you at such a time, Dr. Cyrus Bortel. May I.. step in?" the masculine voice at the door said confidently. Bortel felt like he was put in such an awkward position, to a point where he feared for his life. But, for one reason or another, he felt like he could depend on the kindness of strangers.. just this once. He had not spoken to someone in at least a week or two. He gave a somewhat robotic nod as his reply. The figure took that as the key to coming into his house. His black pants were wet from the rain and had already made a puddle on the floor by making just one step. "Sorry about this. I'll clean it up."
Bortel wondered how in his right mind he could possibly let in a stranger in the middle of the night. He must have been crazy! Had he drank in the past few hours? No, he did not, but judging from the glass of Brandy that he poured earlier in the night, he wanted to.
With every step the man took into his home, the more his image became clear in the light. The inventor noticed that he kept one hand in his pocket and his other arm around what seemed like a large box. The package brought down his reassurance, since whatever may be in that box was unknown to him. By the time the man had stopped walking, he was roughly half a meter from Dr. Bortel. The light in the other room showed half of his face.. pale and tired, quite contrast to the buoyancy in his voice.
"D-don't worry about that. Just... who are you?" Bortel brought up another question, this one he eagerly wanted an answer to.
"My name is Jack Hench. I work for the Hench Co., as you may have heard. I've come here to discuss some business with you that cannot wait until morning."
Dr. Bortel blinked twice when the man finished his sentence. Was it really Mr. Jack Hench standing in front of him? He had surely read much about his company, but what sort of business could he want with him? This could definitely be what he was hoping for!
"Oh, Mr. Hench!" Bortel said in delight. "Such an honour for you to come to my own home.. er.. yes, please come in." The last thing he said was rather useless, since Hench was already inside. Bortel hurried to the door, almost losing his balance from the large puddles Hench left behind, to close and lock it. He entered the kitchen, which was the next room into the house, and turned on the main light. "I apologize for my appearance. Make yourself comfortable at the table. I'll quickly fix up a few drinks."
"It's not as bad as mine," Hench muttered as he placed his package onto the wooden table and helped himself to a seat, Bortel rushed to the bottom cabinet under the counter of his kitchen to grab two small glasses and a bottle of Brandy which was a little more than half full. The inventor had completely forgotten about the glass in his living room. He put the two glasses onto the table, poured them up to the half-way point with the alcohol, and then shifted one glass to Hench who took it, saying 'thank you' as the walls of the drink touched his fingers. Mr. Hench took a long sip while Bortel put the cap back onto the bottle and took a seat opposite of him.
After taking the slightest sip from his glass, Bortel looked up at the tall man. "I must admit, you gave me a fright. I'm not used to people knocking at my door so late in the night."
"Again, my apologies, Dr. Bortel. It's not usual of me to make these kinds of journeys at midnight.. unless it's urgent."
"Please, Mr. Hench. Call me Cyrus. And don't worry, you weren't intruding on anything important, despite my appearance," Bortel reassured him as he pointed to his robe. He still felt flattered that Hench had bothered to meet with him at all, despite no warning. "Now, what is so urgent that it cannot wait until morning? Am I in some sort of trouble?" Bortel had the urge to say 'again' at the end of his question, but decided not to bring in his personal matters. Besides, Jack Hench most likely knew about the problems he had with the Moodulators.
"You're not in any kind of trouble, Cyrus," before Hench continued, he took another large sip of his Brandy and placed it back onto the table. "But I am. I'll get straight to the point. Do you know about Hench Co.'s latest invention, the Attitudinator?"
Being an inventor himself, Bortel made sure he knew exactly every invention that came out of the doors of Hench Co. He did recall reading an article about the Attitudinator a few months ago in the Super Villains Convention '04 Magazine. It was such an impressive machine that he almost convinced himself to order one, but he would have no use of it and money was not entirely in his favour after the Moodulator incident. Nevertheless, he cut the article out and kept it with him as a reminder of what great minds can do.
"Indeed I have," Bortel answered as he lightly tapped the sides of the Brandy glass with his fingers. "Quite an invention, really; I was awed by it. The ability to split up the human psyche into good and evil.. definitely something a villain could use." Although Bortel was not a villain himself, nor did he support their evil ways, he could not help but marvel at creations such as these. Just as long as he was not doing them, any evil inventions were worth his time to investigate.
"You're right about that," Hench said, finally putting his glass down. He was drinking too quickly, and could feel the burn of alcohol through his throat. He decided to lay off the Brandy until he had his message clear. "But lately, things have not been going well. Prices are going down and the company's on the break of.." he was afraid to say it.. ".. bankruptcy."
Bortel gasped as once said the word. "Bankruptcy? Surely that's an exaggeration. I've been watching the productivity of Hench Co. for at least five years. What could've possibly-." He stopped, wondering if he was saying the right thing. It was not polite to question the facts when Hench knew them best.
"I can assure you that this is all true," Hench decided to say without letting Dr. Bortel continue. "There were some problems during this year's convention that made customers think that maybe we're not very careful with our products."
In an instant, Bortel knew exactly what he was saying, for he had gone through the same dilemma. He did not know Mr. Hench personally, yet after hearing this, he felt like they had a very close bond. He then wondered if Hench truly knew about his Moodulators, or if he was here for a completely different reason.
"Oh, I see," Bortel said quietly. He decided not to change the subject. "What a terrible thing to happen, and all because of one invention. But how are your stockholders doing?"
"Don't even start with them," Hench quickly responded. "I can no longer provide them with help. I need to start new. This is the reason why I came here." Once he finished his sentence, Hench put a hand over the package he brought with him, gently patting it a few times.
"Is that.." Bortel began.
"An Attitudinator? Yes," Hench finished his sentence. "Sometimes, when you want to start something new, you have to look back at your old designs.. find flaws.. make modifications.. turn the past into a future that'll change the world as we know it."
Bortel could only watch as the tone in Hench's voice grew louder and more confident. His eyes glittered with greed, Bortel could clearly see it. Or perhaps he was mistaken. It could be just a passion to complete a revolutionary goal without any sinful intentions, much like how his thought process would experience when making inventions.
"It's.. good to see that you still feel secure, Mr. Hench. A lot of men in your case tend to give up, leave their company with whatever money they have, and attempt to start a new life. I admire your confidence. But.. what does this have to do with me?" Bortel could not help but ask as his eyes shifted to the box which held the Attitudinator. Having such an invention in his house was certainly exciting.
"Because you and I are striving for the same thing. Just one thing." Mr. Hench paused for a few seconds before he continued. "Another chance."
"W.. what?" Dr. Bortel stuttered.
"I know very well of your Moodulators, Cyrus. I must say, they caught my attention right away. It's a shame that they had to go to waste. That's why I'm offering you something that is almost impossible, but most certainly can be done thanks to me."
"I.. don't quite understand, Mr. Hench."
"You see, doctor.." At this point, Hench easily took off the tape that tightly bounded the package together and lifted the Attitudinator out. ".. I have never been more proud of myself than when I first had the idea to make the Attitudinator. I knew it would be a huge success among villains, and it definitely was, until that incident during the convention." He could tell that Bortel was ready to ask questions regarding the incident, but he pressed on. "There was no point in trying to continue with marketing; it would cost more money and no profit would be made. I initially thought of scrapping the idea and moving onto something new, but I just.. couldn't leave this wonderful thing behind. I knew it was special, and I was not ready to let some stupid villain and mischievous boy get in the way. Before coming here, I thought long and hard about your Moodulators and what they could do. And then it hit me.."
Hench shifted the Attitudinator across the table and towards Bortel, his hands still holding it. As it traveled across the wood, it made the most irritable sound which Hench did not notice, but made Bortel quite uncomfortable. He looked at the invention with a slight worry in his eyes, and then looked back at Mr. Hench. Stupid villain and mischievous boy.. was this about regaining success or...
"Dr. Cyrus Bortel, you have to make those Moodulators again."
Bortel's eyes widened as he heard this request. After what happened with his invention before, nobody dared to ask him to reinvent those devices once again. They did not trust him anymore. Yet.. could it be that Mr. Hench trusted him? Should he really take the chance?
After letting his mind wander on the thought for some time, something then struck him. "Wait a moment.. if you are so devoted to your own work, why would you ask for something from me?"
Hench inhaled shortly and looked a bit embarrassed by what he was about to say next. "Have you heard about the boy band, Oh Boys?"
Bortel definitely watched the events that happened over a year ago with the music band on television, from their rise, to their downfall, and ultimately, to them being captured. However, he was never interested in that kind of music, so he did not listen to their albums. He gave a short nod.
"Back when they released their album, it was being talked about everywhere. A week later, they were old news and no one would buy their music anymore. And then, when they got captured by Senior Senior Senior," Hench did not take into consideration that Bortel was not familiar with all the villains, but he did wish to show off his knowledge, "they were famous once again. You see.." Hench took another pause. ".. the public loves controversy. It's new and exciting, and it insists them to support the happenings. Imagine what could happen if two men, who obviously went through a breakdown like the Oh Boys did, teamed up to create something the world has never seen before?"
Bortel wanted to put his head down when he heard the word 'breakdown', but his spirits suddenly lifted when he heard what was said afterwards. "You want.. me.. to work with.. you?" He almost could not believe it.
"It surprises you, doesn't it?" Hench said while raising an eyebrow. "Imagine what the media would think. Once they learn that we're working together, they'll be itching to found out what the hell we're making."
He still could not believe it. Jack Hench, the president of Hench Co., wanted to team up with him. It would have been the ultimate dream come true if he did not know that Hench Co. was suffering. Instead, it was just a normal dream come true.
"It is.. quite a surprise," Dr. Bortel said, trying to speak without faulting. "But, ever since I made the Moodulators, I haven't had any other ideas. I was hoping they would last for at least a few months before I went back to inventing. I don't see why you would want me to make new ones.. because.. I cannot picture the public forgiving me." He put his head down and began staring at the liquid in his glass.
"Here is my proposition," Hench said, trying not to lose Bortel's interest. "I had a brilliant idea of not moving away from the Attitudinator and Moodulators, but actually.."
Dr. Bortel's head slowly lifted as he heard the last words coming out of Hench's mouth.
".. put them together."
He.. can't be serious, Bortel thought. For the next minute or so, there was a much needed silence as they looked at each other.
"To put the Attitudinator and Moodulator chip together.. what possible purpose-" Before the inventor could continue, Hench resumed speaking.
"As you know very well, Hench Co. does help those of villainous intentions. I'm not going to sit here and believe that you simply 'lost' the Moodulators. Could you possibly enlighten me?"
Bortel was hoping that he would not go into that. He would certainly not lie to the Jack Hench, but he was most ashamed to regurgitate all that has happened.
"It was.. my fault, really. I shouldn't have left my Moodulators alone. At first I thought they were stolen because when I came back to my working room, many things were out of order and damaged. I found a device on the ground that showed me to way to what I believed were the culprits. Once I made it to my destination, I found out from a boy named Ron Stoppable.." Hench twitched at the name, but it seemed that Bortel did not notice his reaction. ".. that Dr. Drakken and his assistant Shego had broken into my lair. They were not after my Moodulators, but they somehow attached to Shego and teen superhero, Kim Possible."
Mr. Hench could not have known about every villain without hearing the name Kim Possible. Frankly, if it were not for her and her constant thwarting of the villains' plans, his inventions would not have been so popular. Bortel continued.
"The Moodulators went out of control, and.. were destroyed. I didn't know that the chips could be used for such negativity, but I suppose that's Dr. Drakken's doing.."
"See?" Hench interrupted. "Then there's hardly a difference between us. It was Dr. Drakken who caused your Moodulator problem and he also, along with the Stoppable boy, caused my company's profits to decline. We can't let people like them get away with it! That's why we have to put our inventions together!"
Mr. Hench did not realize that his plan all along had slipped, but Dr. Bortel sure did. It had nothing to do with saving their reputation.. it was all about revenge. That's all it was. To think that such a respectable man would stoop so low. Surely Bortel was angry at the blue-skinned villain for costing him the auction, but he was never one to take the extra step to let the other side feel equal pain. It was not in his blood. He.. couldn't do it.
Bortel massaged his right temple after hearing Hench's proposal. There was nothing good about it.
"I.. I'm sorry Mr. Hench," he struggled to say as he placed his arms on the kitchen counter. "I just.. I cannot do it. To take such a risk with the Moodulators again.. it's not worth it. You're just going to have to find someone else to work with."
"Nobody else in the world knows how to make the Moodulators!" Jack heard himself shout. Realizing this, he carefully lowered his tone in order to eliminate any possible anxiety in the atmosphere. "Please, Cyrus. I'm.. willing to give you until tomorrow to reconsider my offer. I was wrong to force an answer out of you right now. But, this is a chance of a lifetime!"
"No, I am very certain about this. I don't want any part of this.. seeking revenge." Bortel sighed deeply, but continued before Hench could pressure him any more. "Mr. Hench, if this is all you wished to discuss, I must ask you to leave now."
"Cyrus.. er.. Dr. Bortel.. y-you can't possibly disregard such a-" Mr. Hench's words were getting tangled as he tried desperately to keep the deal on the table. He did not expect anyone to back out on something that could certainly bring millions of dollars not only to the Hench Co., but to Dr. Cyrus Bortel. He then realized that he let his true plan slip. Mr. Hench was worried about bringing money back to the company, and he believed he could do it by this means, but all he truly wanted was to get even with the two men that did this to him. He gave Dr. Bortel the wrong idea, and it was too late.
"Please, Mr. Hench. I thank you for your offer, but I must decline. And yes, my decision is final."
Hench's nervousness quickly turned into abrupt anger. Bortel could recognize this by the sound of his knuckles digging into the kitchen table. He, by no means, wanted him to get frustrated, but he was in no position to run a business that could have a sticky end like with the Moodulators alone. It was very possible.
"You can't do this to me.. to us.." Hench muttered furiously under his breath. Dr. Bortel must not have heard him, for he had already made his way around the kitchen counter to open the door in the foyer. He would not let his plan evaporate. He will get him to make those Moodulators.
Bortel opened the front door and saw that it was raining violently than before. Despite his hidden irritation towards Hench, he was somewhat concerned for his well-being. "It's raining harder now. You're welcome to use one of my umbrellas if you w-"
Before he could turn around to face Mr. Hench, who he assumed was following him to the door, a large arm wrapped tightly around his neck. He swiftly let go of the door knob, leaving the door flying open, and put his hands over the arm in an attempt to loosen Hench's grip. Bortel never thought, in all that such a respectable man would resort to this kind of violent action.
There was no talk during the struggle. Unfortunately, Hench was taller than the poor inventor, but he used his size to a somewhat of an advantage. Forgetting about the open door, he managed to push Hench, with his spine, back into the kitchen and against a wall. It was not a hard impact, but just enough to slightly loosen the arm clasped around his neck and gasp for air. Finally, he tried to talk some reasoning to the man.
"Hench.. stop it.. this is mad.." Dr. Bortel fought to say as he tried to use his own upper body strength to weaken Hench's arm. Hench did not listen to his plea, and when he saw what Bortel was trying to do, he quickly took his other arm and grabbed one of the hands that was attempting to free himself. With it, he forced it behind Bortel's back. Once the inventor's defenses weakened, Hench went back to conversing.
"Now.. Cyrus.. if this is the only way to seal the deal, then so be it," Hench said in a low and deadly tone as he pushed him towards the kitchen table. Bortel had no idea what his motive was. Hench could not possibly kill him if he still wanted him to make the Moodulators. How on Earth would he force the man into helping him? There was no one in the house to take as hostage. Hench did not know him well enough to challenge blackmail. What could he possibly do?
When his belly touched the edge of the kitchen table, he noticed the brown box that laid on the surface. It was the same box that Jack Hench entered his house with. What was in it? Would he use it against him? Was that his plan all along?
Bortel did not want to give in, despite his position. Although Hench used his chin to keep his head down, the inventor could clearly see that he was trying to reach the box with his left arm, leaving his hand that was against his back free. With it, he managed to jam his elbow right under Hench's ribcage, causing him to shout in agony. The arm around Bortel's neck had weakened greatly. After freeing his neck, he pushed Hench off to the side and made his way to the kitchen telephone on the wall at the far corner of the kitchen.
It felt good to breath again, but that was the least of Bortel's problems. He drastically picked up the receiver and tried to call 9-1-1. He did not know how much time elapsed when he nervously shifted towards the phone.. he did not know how long it took him to pick it up and concentrate his trembling finger on pressing the right numbers. Either way, it was too late. Before he could press the last 1 on the phone, something large, like a helmet, had slammed over his head. At first he thought he was unconscious, but then realized that he had only dropped to the floor due to the weight of the thing on the top of his head. He tried his best to get it off, but Hench was holding it down, refusing to let his flailing arms get in his way.
"Don't bother, Cyrus. You're going to work for me no matter what," Hench said in a much calmer tone. He decided it was time to relax and let his Attitudinator do the job. He watched closely as his invention separated Bortel's good and bad side into two containers. Hench noticed the inventor's hands drop to the floor as he lost control of his body. Once the separation was complete, the Attitudinator went onto the next step, implanting all the bad energy into Bortel while leaving the good enclosed. It was a smooth procedure, and before Hench knew it, it was complete. He slowly lifted the helmet off the man and placed it beside the open box on the table. The blue mist, which represented Bortel's good energy, was trapped in one of the two containers, bouncing off the sides with nowhere to escape.
Once the Attitudinator had been taken off of his head, Dr. Bortel seemed to regain control. He slowly got up, his back towards Mr. Hench. Hench wondered if the Attitudinator could ever work this quickly; it usually took a day or two before the person had felt the effects. Nevertheless, he sure hoped that this was not the case.
"Dr. Cyrus Bortel?" Hench called out.
Bortel slowly turned around to face the man. The first thing Hench noticed that was different was his eyes. They had not changed colour, but his pupils were much smaller, as if he was fully aware now. There was now an aura around him that made him look dangerous. He almost resembled a drone, but Hench knew very well that he did not have him under his control.
"What do you want?" Bortel hissed.
Hench tried to speak normally, as if Bortel perhaps lost his memory and simply needed to regain it. "You better get your normal clothes on, Dr. Bortel. There's much work to be done."
"How dare you give me orders!" Bortel shouted as he dove towards the man. He grabbed the front of Hench's coat and gave him an awful glare, as if ready to kill him. The Attitudinator worked better than he thought. Now Hench had to work it into his advantage.
"Orders? It was your plan all along. You wanted to make the Moodulators again, remember?" Hench said in a calm tone despite his position.
"What?" the evil Bortel roared. He did not see to be buying it, but Mr. Hench did not give up.
"That was your next evil plan.. you wanted to remake the Moodulators so you can put it together with my Attitudinator and seek revenge on Dr. Drakken and Ron Stoppable!"
"Evil.. revenge.. yessss.." Bortel whispered as he let go of Hench's coat and started to cup his hands together, looking quite pleased by the words.
"You want to exact your revenge, don't you? You better start working on those Moodulators right away," Hench said while crossing his arms. He now felt confident that Bortel was right where he wanted him.
"Yes, I know! Stop ordering me!" Bortel yelled again, but the tone had become normal for him. "Dr. Drakken and Ron Stoppable must pay.. THEY MUST PAY!"
He threw his hands into the air and cackled as lightning sparked and thunder roared outside of the house.
"Yes.. well.. I'll leave you to that," Hench said, finding the laugh very abnormal. He would not leave the house until Bortel had completed the mission, for fear of him going off-task.
"You're job," Bortel pointed furiously at Hench, "is to make sure absolutely nobody enters this house. No one is allowed to disturb me while I'm at work!" With that said, he unplugged the phone chord in the kitchen and stormed out of the room.
Mr. Hench wondered if he should follow him, but decided to keep it safe and just assume he was doing what he was supposed to be doing. If that was the case, than part one of his plan was complete. He sat down at the shifted kitchen table and took another sip of his Brandy. Meanwhile, the thunderstorm still held its superiority outside as it spread crackles and abrupt noises through the night.
"Hmm.. I might like this villain work."
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