A/N: Well, here's another fic. Actually, it's not really a fic, but more of an excerpt from the movie, with the exception of a few lines. (For some reason, I absolutely love watching a scene from the movie, then putting extra things in it. This particular one is in Rita's POV, and it's what she's thinking while Roddy is introduced to her family. So, I hope you enjoy! (When I watched this scene and decided to write a fic on it, I thought, "It has to be in 1st person." Don't ask why, it just did.)

PS: I do NOT own Flushed Away. If I did, I would have already made a sequel... .

Family Dinner

I jumped off of my boat easily, from years of practice. My new accomplice followed me, looking at the docks nervously. I began walking towards my home, shifting the box in my right hand. Roddy followed somewhat hesitantly.

"Are you sure we should be stopping, with all those goons on our tail?" he asked, waving his arms around a bit for emphasis. I rolled my eyes.

"We aren't going to get far without a map, are we?" I kept my voice steady, patient, when really I felt like hitting him upside the head for being so ignorant about travel. It's ok, Rita. It's not his fault he's been Up Top all his life.

I started down the plank that led to my house, shaking my head at his antics. Roddy, on the other hand, stopped short when he saw the building—if you could call it that—in front of us. It swayed dangerously, and parts of the building would lurge to the side, coming seriously close to falling off. It was rickety, run down, and clearly not safe in the least.

Home sweet home.

Roddy's eyes widened as he took this all in, "Is that—is that a house?"

"Yes," I responded, not even looking back as I made my way to the front door. He started after me again, and I grinned as I stepped over the third plank from the beginning of our porch, knowing that he wouldn't be as wise, "And it's very dangerous."

I took another step onto my porch, "So…" I turned around just as Roddy hit the third step—the one that I had deliberately walked over—and crashed through it, holding on by his head, hands, and feet, "Why don't you wait here?"

He looked ridiculous, but I refrained from laughing as another idea popped into my head.

"Waiting here. Excellent idea," he nodded in agreement as I opened the door to the house and stepped halfway inside.

"Watch out for the piranha!" I practically sang, and my grin widened as he cried out in fear and jumped onto the post that held the house to the docks. He couldn't have reacted better. Well, unless he fell into the water, and then he'd have been wet as well as scared, but beggars can't be choosers. This was going to be a fun trip.

I closed the door, leaving him on the post to ponder the thought of a giant man-eating fish in the water, and turned my attention towards my siblings.

"Rita!" they cried, and I welcomingly took in the utter bedlam and confusion that always seemed to occupy my house. Instantly kids were screaming and yelling at me, my mother, or someone else. I bent down to pat some of my siblings on the head, replying greetings to each of them in turn. Kids were jumping out of closets, climbing down stairs, even flying off our fan. It was a complete and utter mess, but I loved every minute of it. That's what family was, right?

I opened the box and began handing my findings out to my brothers and sisters, "Here you go, Annie. You too, Shamus," I looked and noticed a little girl with bright red hair in pigtails picking her nose, and I grabbed her by the back of her shirt, easily lifting her off the ground, "Mimi, get your finger out of your nose."

My largest, but still younger, brother approached me, looking at my box curiously. I smiled at him, putting down Mimi, "Hello Fergus," he nodded at me and quietly picked out an item from the box, a pink heart or something. Grinning at his new toy, he skated off, and I turned to point an accusing finger at another sibling.

"Jojo, no biting!" I reprimanded, shaking the finger at her. She ignored me, of course, but with all the commotion I wasn't surprised.

The cabinet where most people keep their nice dishes opened up, and about twenty more little kids popped out, leaping at the fan and running around the room, shouting my name and giving my legs hugs. I winced as one of my many little brothers flew off of the fan and landed flat on the wall just left of the England poster, sliding down it as gravity took over. Another brother, one of the older ones, was sawing a younger brother in half, and a little girl's head popped out of the part where his body should have disappeared.

"Rita's back!" she cried out, as if nobody had noticed before now. I shook my head, lightly noticing that Mimi still had her finger in her nose, but what else was new?

Suddenly, mum came running out of the kitchen, arms outstretched as she greeted me, "Rita!"

"Mum, oh Mum!" I held my arms out as well, and she engulfed me in a hug.

"Thank goodness you're safe!" she said, letting go of me. The previous events flashed through my mind, and I forced a smile on my face.

"Nothing exciting happened," I lied to her, pretending that the day had been much more boring than it really was.

She smiled at me, still holding my arms comfortingly, and my dad rolled himself out of the kitchen, "Rita!" he exclaimed, and I grinned as I noticed his hands fitting through the hand slots on either side of the door frame. One of my siblings had carved them out when my dad had broken his bones, and apparently it was immensely helpful.

"Hello, Dad," I responded, and mum let go as I walked a step forward to give him a hug as well. By now, the kids had scattered, and he had plenty of room to roll around in.

"Give us a hug, girl!" he exclaimed, rolling himself forward. Just then, Fergus decided to skate to the other end of the room, and the house tilted in that direction. My dad flew forward, slamming into the wall. I winced as he fell off of it, followed by one of my brothers, and another sister. I shook my head at this, thinking, Only in my house… Then, I noticed Roddy standing by the window, peering into the house with shock.

My brother—the one who had been pinned to the wall by dad—jumped up and pointed accusingly at Roddy, "Oi, Mum! There's a peeping tom outside!" Roddy's look changed from shocked to startled at the statement.

Mum peered around my brother to see him, a smile growing on her face. Suddenly, my grandmother popped up out of nowhere and pushed us both aside, "Tom?! Ohh!!! It's Tom Jones!!!" she exclaimed in that crazy way that she always talked, running to the window with clasped hands.

"Mother, it's not Tom Jones," Mum said, pulling my grandmother back towards us so as not to scare Roddy off. I bit my lip and looked sideways at her.

"That's… that's just my passenger," I stated, acting like it was no big deal. Roddy breathed on the window and wiped away the fog that formed with his hand, still watching us with interest.

Mum forced my grandmother back down, then smiled at me, still looking at Roddy, "He's very good-looking." She said matter-of-factly. I shook my head, folding my arms.

"He is not coming in," I raised my eyebrows, daring her to say otherwise. She looked at me, then back at Roddy, and her smile grew.

Of course she would say otherwise.

"Soup's on!" someone called, and the dinnertime chatter began. Roddy looked at everyone with interest, his smile bigger than I'd ever seen. He looked sideways at me, and I sent him my most threatening glare, fists formed, hunched over slightly. He continued to stare, and I sighed in defeat, looking away and putting my cheek in my right hand.

"It's lovely, thanks mum!" another sibling said, and agreements flew across the table as the house rocked from Fergus's skating.

I noticed the soup bowl coming my way, worn and chipped, and I picked up my spoon. Roddy readied his, still clearly confused. It slid right by him, but I got a sip from pure experience. He looked shocked as it passed, but said nothing. The bowl almost slid off the table at dad's end, but Fergus chose that moment to skate in the opposite direction, sending the bowl back down.

This time Roddy seemed ready, and for a split second I wondered if he would actually get some food. I grabbed some, but he struck a second too late and hit only the table. I wanted to laugh, but I knew that only family would be able to get food on the first try every night, and only if they were older.

A sister with short brown hair and a snobby look peered at Roddy, then at me, and then back at Roddy. She folded her arms and sneered, "So, how long have you been Rita's boyfriend?"

I scowled, thumping my spoon against the table, "He's not my boyfriend," I said sternly. She stuck her tongue out at me, and I rolled my eyes. Roddy stayed quiet, watching this exchange of words, a smile on his face.

"So," dad spoke up, raising his voice a bit to be heard, "Are you going to make an honest woman of my daughter?"

My eyes widened in exasperation, "Dad!" My siblings, I could see saying something like that, but my own father?!

Roddy grinned and put his arm around me as I stared at the table in irritation, "Well, we were sort of thinking of a spring wedding, weren't we, cream puff?"

In one quick motion, I flung my spoon back and slapped him on the nose. It must have stung, because he removed his hand and began to rub it, looking hurt and smugly pleased at the same time. I started at my dad, moving my gaze to each of my siblings.

"Look, I just want all of you to know that he's—"

"Tom Jonnnnneeesss!!!" my grandmother cried, standing up and choosing that exact moment to slam her hands down on the table, head twitching. Unfortunately, the soup bowl happened to be in front of her at the moment, so her hands went into the food instead.

Mum watched with an amused smile as one of my brothers moved to get a spoonful of the soup. I groaned in exasperation and slapped my hand to my forehead, leaning heavily against the table.

My brother, the one who had called Roddy a 'peeping tom', turned to him and stared, "So you're name's 'Roddy', is that right?"

Roddy nodded, "Yes, that's right. Roddy St. James."

"What a beautiful name," mum leaned against her cheek, cradling a baby in the other arm and staring at Roddy, casting subliminal messages through her eyes at me. I groaned and burrowed my head further into my hand.

"Hi, Roddy!" a little boy with fire-red hair, spiked to stand up straight, approached him. I shot up at the voice, frowning as I recognized it.

"And who might you be, little chap?" he asked, all friendly.

I stared at the other end of the table, away from the disaster that I knew was approaching.

"They call me Shocky," he stated innocently, staring at Roddy with his big green eyes. I allowed my own green eyes to trail over to him. I couldn't pass up an opportunity like this.

Roddy blinked, "And why do they call you that?"

I cringed as Shocky pulled out a 9 volt battery and two plugs, pinching Roddy's chest with them and sending strong shocks through his body, "Shocky!" he cried, doing it two more times before grabbing his battery and bolting, leaving Roddy shaking and panting from the experience.

Despite my best efforts, I had to lean down to see if he was okay. He seemed to be recovering nicely, so I picked up my spoon and grabbed a sip of the soup as it careened by once more.

"Rita, where're you taking this handsome young man then, eh?" my dad spoke up once more. The bowl arrived at him, and Shocky put a straw into it while another brother pushed his wheelchair forward, allowing him to take a sip.

I hesitated, "Well… Actually, that's why I need your maps, dad," I put on my most charming smile, "Because he's from… uh…" I lowered my voice and cleared my throat, "Up Top."

My dad spit out the soup in his mouth, splashing everyone with the brown goop. The table fell silent, something that didn't happen often, and he glared at me, "Kitchen. Now."

Roddy sent me an apologetic look as I scooted out of my chair and began for the kitched. My grandmother put her hands together, staring at him dreamily, "Oh, sing us a song, Tom!!!" she crooned, and mum nodded enthusiastically.

I walked into the kitchen, standing by the countertop as my dad rolled in, "What are you thinking, Rita?" he demanded, "The trip to get Up Top is too dangerous!"

I folded my arms stubbornly, "I'm not saying it isn't risky."

He shook his head, "But it's impossible, Rita!" he slid backwards, hitting the wall as Fergus continued to skate around, "No one's ever got past the rapids at High Punk. Once the current gets you—"

I cut him off, "Dad, dad! He's gonna pay us!" I turned him around to face me, and he hit the opposite wall, next to the table, as I rubbed my fingers together to show what I meant.

Dad scowled, "For the last time! We don't. Need. The. Money!" he banged his fist on the table at every word for emphasis. At the final thump, the table collapsed to the ground, and the stove door opened simultaneously. With the weight of the door throwing it off balance, the stove toppled forward and fell through the floor, into the water below.

The cockroach behind our stove pulled his smoking pipe out of his mouth and looked up from his paper, at us, "A new stove might be nice."

Smugly, knowing I had won this argument, I turned back to my dad. He was looking at the hole in the floor in shock, and I raised my eyebrow as he grinned sheepishly at me.

Suddenly, I heard a new, strange sound coming from the living room. It sounded almost like… singing. I quickly peeked my head around the corner of the kitchen, looking in pure surprise as I saw Roddy, parading on the table, loudly singing She's a Lady by, you guessed it; Tom Jones. All of my siblings, and even my mother and grandmother, were clapping their hands—out of beat, I might add—and cheering up a storm.

Once the surprise had passed, I felt astonishment that someone could fit so well into my family. Not only was he patient with kids, but he could entertain as well. Maybe he wasn't so bad after all. I winced as someone, probably my grandmother, threw a pair of underpants at him. He peeled them off and instantly incorporated them into his song, breaking off into a new verse about them. The cheering got louder, and I tilted my head in thought.

Just then, the flowers beside me moved, and I glanced over to see Liam standing inside a flower pot, with the soil and flowers on his head like a hat. An eyebrow rose as I stared in disbelief at him.

"Psst! Rita!" he whispered urgently, poking his head further out of the pot, "It's okay, it's me, Liam."

I kept the eyebrow raised, thinking, Of course I know who you are, you idiot. I'm your sisterBut I kept quiet.

"Quick, in the kitchen!" he scuttled into the room, and with a shake of my head and another quick glance at Roddy, I followed.

Liam stood by the window, still inside the flower pot, waving a piece of paper around, "This bloke isn't who he says he is!"

I folded my arms as I listened to him. Why, do you ask? I often ask myself the same thing.

"His real name is Millicent Bystander, and he's an international jewel thief," he opened the paper to show dad and I a crudely drawn picture of Roddy holding a ruby in his left hand. I raised my hand to my chin as I tried to think of where I remembered that name from.

"a criminal mastermind, a secret criminal," Liam continued, unfazed by our disbelieving expressions. Then it hit me. That was what Whitey had called Roddy, back when he had captured us on my boat! I groaned at this thought and what he was still babbling about, thinking about how absurd it was, "They say he crossed the Toad and got away with it."

I rolled my eyes, thinking, I did that too, Sherlock, and you don't call me a jewel thief! But my father was listening too, and I couldn't just blurt something like that out. Liam sunk back down into his pot, still talking, "He's a dangerous man, but don't think of it. I've got a plan…" he trailed off as he turned away and began walking towards the window.

"Really?" dad asked, sounding almost as exasperated as I felt, "And what might that be?"

"Well, look at this," Liam showed him the flyer that he had clearly drawn just a moment ago, "It says here that there's a huge payment for anyone who turns 'im in!"

I stared at him, "Great!" I put a lot of emphasis on the word, "So, I hand Roddy over to the Toad, obtain the reward, then we're all set and pretty for the rest of our lives!" I finished my pacing circle and leaned on my father's bandaged up left arm with my own, "Is that the idea?" Liam nodded fiercely.

"Yeah! The Toad'll pay a fortune for him, and he's a bad one anyway, so—so it's all right, isn't it really?"

Dad's eyes narrowed, and he wheeled forward to slap Liam across the head, "Why, you tricky little monkey!" he missed, as Liam jumped backwards to avoid the blow. I put one hand on my hip and shook my head as dad continued, "I won't have no son of mine acting the rat."

I stepped in, waving a finger at Liam as he turned away from us, towards the window, "We Malones never go back on our word," I reminded him, crossing my arms.

"He's gonna steal your boat," Liam said in a warning voice.

"He won't steal my boat."

"He's stealing your boat."

I rolled my eyes, "He isn't stealing my—"

"He stole your boat," Liam interrupted, smiling at the thought.

I ran forward, pushing the flowers out of the way, only to see that for once, what Liam said was true. Roddy was in my boat, trying—very shabbily, I might add—to drive it out of the harbor, "What?!" I exclaimed in surprise and anger.

"It's like Robin Hood, in reverse," Liam murmured thoughtfully.

I cried out angrily and bolted for the door, only to see that several of my siblings had beat me to it. They stood crowded at the dock, but luckily I was the oldest, and tallest, so I easily saw over their heads. Putting my hands to my face to shout louder, I yelled, "Oi! I thought we had a deal!"

Roddy turned around, holding our soup bowl with some spoons in it. Faintly, I wondered why he had those, then shook it off for more pressing matters. He glared at me, "So did I!"

And he drove my boat away. I watched him go, fury running through my veins, my fists clenched. Then I heard dad shouting out, and instinctively stepped aside so that he could pass, not even considering the fact that he would roll right off the dock. Apparently my siblings had forgotten as well, and he barreled right past us and into the water.

My grandmother came running, clutching a red flotation device in her right hand, "This is an emergency! Get out of the way! Emergency, Emergency! Stay clear!" she dove into the water, and my dad's eyes lightened at the idea of being pulled out of the water. Instead, she swam right past him—at a frightening speed—and tore off after my boat, shouting, "I'm coming, Mr. Jones, I'm coming! Oh, marry me, Mr. Jones!!!"

I watched her go, and it only added fuel to the fire. I jumped up and sent the boat my most furious glare, clenching my fists so hard that I would have winced from the pain if I wasn't so mad, "Ohh… Roddy!!!!"

He was dead meat.

A/N: There you are. :) I hope you liked this fic. Please review and tell me what you think. Thanks for reading!