HA M'LAY! I actually WROTE this one! IN YO FACE!

I thought of this last night. It played in my head over and over and more scenarios popped in there (it's a scary place). The more it bounced around, the more I liked it and its potential. So ENJOY this short yet somehow satisfying first chapter.


So here we are.


And we've been captured.


And we're in a living nightmare.


And Gazzy's getting…well, gassy.


I can't believe I let this happen. I mean, get caught and put through hell once, shame on you. Get caught and put through hell twice? Shame on me.

At least we aren't in dog crates this time. After our last little adventure with the white coats, they decided to keep us bigger kids in jail cells. (Mostly because we destroyed most of their crates.) So Iggy, Fang and I are all in this tiny little cell that STINKS to high heaven.

It's REALLY awkward going to the bathroom.

Angel, Gazzy, and Nudge are all in their dog crates. I shouldn't be complaining – at least I can go to the bathroom when I want, and I don't have to wait for someone to experiment on me to get relief.

The squeak of the door let us know someone was coming. A white coat appeared at the bars, looking at us in fascination.

"Take a picture, lady. It'll last longer." I told her.

She seemed startled. These creatures, intelligent? Capable of speech? Amazing.

"Oh, well, I…Um…I need the experiments called…" She consulted a clipboard. "Max and…Fang?"

"You're new here, aren't you?" I asked from my place on the bed.

"Why, yes. How can you tell?" She inquired.

"Lucky guess. What do you want us for?"

"Just some tests." She replied.

Fang and I looked at each other and shrugged. They would either drag us out the hard way and beat us for it, or we could go the easy way.

I prefer to keep my kidneys intact, thank you very much.

Upon arrival at our destination, I noticed one of those operating tables with the bands of metal across it and for the feet and wrists, in case the patient was a frisky one.

The sight of it gave me a very bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. I turned to Fang to voice my opinions, but before I could open my mouth, Erasers swarmed in, pinning Fang to the table and jamming the restraints into the right sockets. A few of them reached for me and got a gutful of fist for their efforts.

Fang, struggling on the table, shouted, "Max! Look out!"

Coming up behind me, an eraser thought he was being sneaky. Luckily, I had stolen a gun and a pair of handcuffs from one of the poor, bruised erasers withering on the ground.

I pulled out the gun, pointing it right at his head. He froze in his tracks.

White coats, alerted now to the ruckus, were flooding the room, shouting and pulling out needles that made my skin crawl.

They started to wheel Fang away.

"NO!" I cried. I had no idea what they would do to him; all I knew is that I couldn't let them do it.

I yanked the pair of handcuffs from the pocket which housed them and attached one end to my wrist. Ignoring the cries of, "NO! DON'T YOU DARE!" I attached the other end to Fang's right wrist, to his surprise.

I pointed the gun at a tank that I hoped was filled with something flammable and tried out my bluff.

"Let him go, or the top blows off this place!"

They seemed pretty scared, let me tell you. Fang watched the chaos from his table.

"What the hell are you doing?!?" He whispered urgently to me.

"Saving your ass." I replied.

"What's handcuffing us together got to do with that?"

"I don't want you to get separated. You're on a freaking operating table! If you go under the knife, you won't come back."

The white coats basically freaked out, sicking Erasers on us. One wrenched the gun from my hand, twisting it painfully in the process. They couldn't do an operation on Fang with his extra appendage now kicking and screaming her head off.

They shoved us both into a different tiny cell, directly across from Iggy's.

I stuck my tongue out at them.

When I turned back, Fang had a horrified look on his face. "What?" I asked.

He wordlessly pointed at our wrists, joined together with a shiny metal chain that clinked whenever it was jostled.

It took me a few moments to realize why he was so dismayed by this discovery.

We didn't have the key.


"You will NOT."

"What am I supposed to do, hold it in? Come on, Max. I REALLY have to go."

"I don't want my hand so close to your…little man…"

"'Little Man'? That's disturbing."

"No, what's disturbing is what you're asking me to go through."

"I don't see what all the fuss is about. I do it every day, several times. So do you."

"Yes, but in PRIVATE."

"And…what are you going to do about it if I go anyway?"


"Exactly. I'm going to relieve myself now, and there's NOTHING you can do about it!"


"See? Now that wasn't so bad."


"You're being dramatic."


The possibilities are ENDLESS for this story!

I'm happy for myself that I thought of it!


Now. YOU. Click on the little purple button. THEN. Go get me some cake.