Three things:

1. This story is not part of the "Freckle" universe or any other viable universe.

2. It was completely uncalled for.

3. But it felt very good to write.

I hope you enjoy it.

Yono the Destroyer, Monkey Fist, Sensei, Rufus and Kim Possible are all owned by Disney.

My sincerest apologies to David Lynch.


Yono the Destroyer woke fitfully from unsettling sleep. He was most certainly not in a good mood. Phrases that had pierced his stoney sleep were still echoing in his head.

From the darkness of future's past

He shook his small head angrily in an attempt to dispel the irritating words from his annoyed memory.

The magician longs to see

Suddenly, he realized that the words were not being recalled, they were being spoken.He was awake, yet the speech was still going on.

One chants out between two worlds

As these last words radiated through his tiny chamber, Yono ground his teeth in exaggerated fury--fury that was exaggerated to hide the fact that he knew the next line before it was spoken, and that the words filled him with dread.



Still puffed up with churning anger and fragile bravado, Yono the Destroyer burst through the open door of his temple to confront whomever had disturbed his rest. Not only was the individual not using the prescribed mantra, he was spouting utter nonsense. Nonsense that Yono knew should not have been able to wake him.

This final fact pricked his heart with a certain degree of fear, and Yono did not like being afraid. He increased his anger and hatred in an attempt to cover up this fear and the self-loathing it had produced. He was glowing with the full intensity of what Monkey Fist had referred to as his "light show" as he shouted, "Who dares disturbs the rest of Yono the Destroyer!"

There was no answer forthcoming.

"Yo! I am not referred to as Yono the Merciful, the Patient, or the Giver-of-Second-Chances! I am Yono the Destroyer! I demand to know who has disturbed me! All will feel my wrath unless I hear an answer NOW!!"

Only the breeze through the trees answered him.

Yono looked around and knew immediately he was no longer in Japan or even in Asia. His temple has risen within the bounds of a limitless evergreen forest, a forest he sensed was somewhere in North America. A few yards before the lower steps of his temple was a small black pool. Surrounding this puddle of fetid, stagnant liquid was a circle of twelve frail, withered trees, denuded of leaves. As Yono looked angrily about him, he wondered absently, with no real concern, as to the nature of the dying trees. Then the music and the singing began.

And I'll see you

And you'll see me

And I'll see you in the branches that blow

In the breeze

Under the sycamore trees

There was something very odd about the singing. In addition to the fact that it seemed to be coming from nowhere, Yono could not tell whether the singer was male or female. As the last line was sung, the universe shifted.


Hanging above the pool in midair, there was suddenly the beam of a spotlight. Then the evergreens beyond the circle of sycamores changed ... began to bend, flutter, and wave in the air. They became thick, blood-red curtains that extended to the sky and ended in bunched folds upon the floor of the forest. The curtains flowed to the beat of the music that was still playing although the singing had ceased. They flowed gently with the breeze.

Yono found himself standing before the curtains right where the spotlight reached them with no idea how he had covered the distance. He turned behind him, reflexively, to judge the distance from the temple to his current location. His temple was gone.

Fear had become more than an embarrassment, more than annoyance, for Yono the Destroyer.

For reasons that simultaneously confounded, outraged, and chilled him, Yono found that his hands were moving toward the curtains and parting them. He stepped through them.

The curtains blended back into the evergreens and the spotlight shut off.


Yono the Destroyer found himself in a very large, very bare room. The four walls were draped with the same curtains that had appeared in the forest. Or, perhaps, the curtains were the walls. The floor of the room was linoleum, made up with a jagged, regular black and white pattern that seemed to extend on forever if he stared at it for more than a second or two.

With automatic motion, his feet walked across the tile floor until he reached the rear "wall." The journey seemed to take forever. Once it was complete, he parted the curtains and stepped through to the next "room."

This room was the same as the last except that it was not empty. In the center of this room were two overstuffed, velvet red chairs. In these chairs sat two figures.

The one on Yono's left was a silver-haired and silver-bearded human dressed in a dull brown suit. The only exceptional thing about this person was the fact that his left sleeve was empty and laying uselessly against his side. He was a one-armed man.

The figure on Yono's right was nothing but exceptional. He appeared human, but he was even shorter than Yono. Dressed in a suit the same color as the curtains, this person unsettled Yono immensely. His feeling of dis-ease only increased as the second figure got out of his chair.

The sound of his footsteps against the floor sounded ... backward ... as if they had been recorded and Yono was hearing the playback in reverse.

The peculiarity of the sound of the figure's steps was immediately forgotten as Yono realized he was levitating into the air. His anger, for the moment, overtook his fear, and he was about to give voice to this righteous anger when he discovered that his body was trembling all over. No, trembling wasn't right. It was undergoing spasms.

The second figure had reached his destination by this point. He was standing next to the first figure and looking directly into his eyes. The first figure, however, only stared at the suspended Yono. The second figure placed his hand upon the place where the first figure's lost arm would have been.

"Onoy" the two spoke in unison. "!aizobnomrag ym lla tnaw I"

Even when Yono mentally reversed this statement, he could make no sense of the final word. Yet once he had heard the reversed phrase repeated in his own mental voice, he felt compelled to comply with the request.

He raised his hands above his head, and, once the spasms and jolts overtaking his body reached a crescendo, he flung them toward the floor far before.

An immense streak of blood coated the floor. It contained all the pain and suffering Yono the Destroyer had caused those he had (temporarily and permanently) destroyed up to and including Monkey Fist, Sensei, Rufus, and Kim Possible.

Suddenly, a flash of blue electric light and the hum of static filled the room. The floor was clean once more.

Yono's convulsions subsided, and he found himself slowly sinking back down to the floor. As he did so, he noticed that the second figure was seated again. He appeared to be eating creamed corn from a rather large spoon.

The corn was finished as Yono's feet touched the tile. Yet, Yono found he was still sinking. Sinking from beneath his robes, sinking close and closer to the floor.

Both figures looked at him dispassionately as he sank, as he changed.

His arms grew longer and thin. So did his legs. His eyes shrank. The bones of his skull unlocked and shifted until his head, like the rest of his body, took on the shape of an ordinary spider monkey.

The real changes, however, took place inside.

Just as his mind lost all its mystical properties and became concerned only with trees, scratching fleas and eating bananas, Yono the Destroyer was able to think and utter one final intelligible word.