My standard KP disclaimer:
I know Disney owns "Kim Possible"...lock, stock, and Rufus.
If they want to sue me, they have to get behind all my other creditors.
Since I am in south Florida, the line has formed to the right
…and goes all the way to Sacramento!
The 'Newbell Prize®', 'Mega Cone 3000®', 'Star-Blaster Pop®', 'Triple Choco-Bomb®',
the phrase 'frozen treats that can't be beat', 'Mr. Flopsy®', and 'Mr. Flopsy's Cone Cart®'
ALL belong to me...Thad Marster, The Samurai Crunchbird®.
I will defend the rights to these original names…with my heart, my honor, my agent (Matthew Shrader),
and The Sword of the Ancient Mystics® (also mine)...though not necessarily in that order!!
1) Well, folks…this is the fourth story in the 'ch-RON-icles' series. These tales feature Ron Stoppable in many of his everyday adventures before he began joining 'you know who' on her missions.
I feel I must give fair notice in advance…This installment IS rated 'T'!! Even though I am sure my loyal readers (both of you) may think it doesn't need to be raised from the usual 'K-Plus' once they read it, I feel a moral obligation to do so.
2)I realize the scene from 'A Sitch in Time' had Ron mention the drawbacks of going to BuenoNacho on a tricycle. I always thought there was more to it than that, maybe a 'mental block' keeping him from 'remembering' how to ride a bicycle. My words here attempt to reflect that deeper 'back-story'. For any other 'canon' issues, I invoke my 'AU License' (with restrictions requiring corrective lenses while driving).
Also, in replies to reviews for the last story, I told some of you I would use the name Amos instead of David. Given the potential for 'Amos and Andy' jokes that didn't fit this particular tale, I switched it back to David.
Enjoy the show!
'ch-RON-icles: Uncle David'
…For Jody Hull. I forgive you…
…For many children, it is the first real instrument of freedom and independence. If they wanted to go to their local library or a friend's house, they no longer had to beg their parents for a ride or spend half the day walking there…
…For parents, it was yet another sign their children were growing and maturing. It wouldn't be long before their sons and daughters would begin asking for the car keys and a later curfew…
…But a bicycle played a pivotal role in one of the strangest times up to that point in the life of one soon-to-be eleven-year-old boy in particular…
A few days earlier, he and his best friend, Kim, were present at the grand opening of Middleton's first Bueno Nacho location. At that celebration, she expressed her frustration about their journey to the restaurant…
"Ron," Kim complained, "I can't believe it took us this long to get here. With your extra weight, I had to pedal twice as hard just to go half as fast."
She looked into Ron's eyes, took a deep breath, and softened her tone. "I'm sorry I snapped at you. I just don't understand why you couldn't ride here on your own bike."
"Don't blame me." Ron countered. "Ask your brothers about that. Remember last week, when your 'fam' came over for that cook-out after your trip to Nana Possible's house?"
A look of shock gripped her face as she gasped, "You mean, they…"
"That's right, KP." Ron replied. "Those two took the whole thing apart and lined up the pieces in the garage, behind my dad's car."
A memory was triggered in the young girl's mind as she asked, "Didn't your dad have to go to the store to get more hamburgers and hot dogs?"
With a look of utter defeat, Ron sighed and responded, "Yep…and boy, was he mad about running over the bike frame. I mean, that thing was brand-new. I only rode it a few times that week, but I really looked forward to taking you up here in style!"
"OOOOOOOOOOOOOHH!" She growled. "When I get my hands on those twin dweebs, I'll…"
"Hold it, Kim!" Ron interrupted, desperately trying to diffuse the situation. "If they are twins...and they are dweebs...doesn't that make them...'Tweebs'?"
The laughter they shared completely eliminated the minuscule levels of frustration remaining in Kim's heart. Once again, the power of 'Ron-shine' was successfully used to savelives…even if it got on his best friend's last nerve sometimes.
"Okay," Kim acquiesced with a hint of a smile, "when you get it fixed, it will be your turn to bring me up here."
Ron laughed and quipped, "I wouldn't want it any other way. Besides, there's not enough room for both of us in the front of my 'old folks' tricycle."
Referring to the three-wheeled transportation used primarily by Ron's Grandpa Jesse when he came to visit, Kim protested, "It's not like one of those little trikes we had when we were five, you know! I would've fit perfectly in the huge basket on the back of that monstrosity."
"Uh-huh. Yeah, sure." Ron observed. "Did you forget you're wearing a T-shirt today? I didn't want this bon-diggety time of snackage to be spoiled by some jerk calling you 'Waffle Arms' or something."
With a jolt of realization of how the basket's detail would have imprinted itself on her forearms, she relented, "Good point, Ron!"
Ron placed an arm around Kim's shoulder and declared, "Just 'having your back', KP."
…Elsewhere in Middleton, Andy was on the verge of a monumental triumph. It would be on a par with the monumental discoveries his father helped develop for the Apollo lunar modules. If only that man lived long enough to see Andy's breakthrough, he would have been extremely proud of the scientist.
Unfortunately, Andy lost the man he so highly revered when he was only five. His father died instantly in an accident involving the development of a heat-resistant shielding. Once it was perfected, the shielding was the prototype for the coating later used for the tiles on the underbelly of the Space Shuttle.
Andy was working hard on a solution to the worldwide energy crisis. The countless hours of pain, suffering, and tenacious effort produced a substance capable of burning one-tenth as quickly as regular gasoline, yet providing twenty percent more horsepower.
Since the substance was derived from a byproduct of a local plastics plant, it was much cheaper to produce and refine than regular gasoline as well. In addition, the non-toxic exhaust formed a two-inch biodegradable solid cube, which could easily be removed from a small compartment in the trunk after every re-fueling.
The possibilities for this energy source were practically endless in Andy's fertile mind…
He deduced in thought, 'If everybody switched to this new fuel, there would be no more ozone-depleting chemicals in the atmosphere…no more smog emissions…fresh, clean air for everybody!'
His smile grew broader as his mind concluded, 'This fuel has the potential to—Dare I consider it?—save the WORLD!!'
The only drawback was the permanent discoloration of anything that came in contact with the substance. It was not an insurmountable issue, however. All a person had to do was either let the substance biodegrade or let it dry in its cube form before taking it to a collection center. From there, enough collected blocks would be taken to an electrical plant to use instead of coal to burn for generators. When burned, the blocks would break down on a non-toxic molecular level due to the intense heat of burning them.
Andy simply needed to put this revolutionary new fuel to a road test. Once he compared those findings with all his other data, the Newbell Prize for chemistry was as good as his. Oh, sure…his previous failed experiments forced the fair-skinned, brown-haired, bespectacled man to leave the Middleton Institute of Science and Technology in shame.
This discovery, however, meant so much to Andy for many reasons. Of course, there would be the fame, fortune, and worldwide accolades he felt he richly deserved. More than that, it also provided one last opportunity for redemption—not only from his peers, but more importantly in the eyes of his father. Andy was sure the man was looking down at him from the heavens and would have finally been proud of his son…
Today was officially Ron's eleventh birthday, but it fell on a Tuesday this year. His birthday party was scheduled for the following Saturday after Temple at J.P. Bearymore's Pizza Party-Torium. Ron was already anticipating the party as he sat on his bed and read the latest 'Fearless Ferret' comic book.
"Ronald," a voice called out from the garage, "could you come out here for a moment?"
Ron quickly recognized the voice and responded, "Sure thing, Dad. I'll be right there."
He walked into the garage and noticed both his father and Uncle David standing next to a large item. It came up just past the man's elbows and was covered with a black canvas tarp.
Confused, Ron inquired, "What's going on?"
Donald Stoppable smiled and responded, "Well, you know your mother's family all went to Colorado and mine all went to Colorado State, right?"
This had been a point of contention in their house at every family gathering they ever attended. It took every last ounce of respect and decency in Ron's body to restrain his thoughts.
In his head, he snarked, 'Alex, I'll take 'DUUUUHHHH' for 1,000! It's only why we've been banned from Seder feasts every Passover by both sides of the family.'
Aloud, he chuckled and motioned toward his uncle, "Sure…everybody except you, Uncle Dave. You went to Nebraska, didn't you?"
David laughed along with Ron and agreed, "You know me, 'Little Man'…Never be normal!" Ron's smile grew broader each time his favorite uncle called him by that nickname and repeated the motto he adopted as his own.
A starry look appeared on Dave's face as he reminisced, "In fact, I met your Aunt Sarah while I was standing in line to buy tickets for the visitors' section that time we faced CSU in Fort Collins. She heard me taunt at a guy in a CU T-shirt, and the rest is history."
Donald suspiciously eyed his brother-in-law and declared, "Funny thing, Dave…to this very day, neither you nor my little sister will tell the rest of us what you said to that man."
David gave a wicked grin and replied, "That's just one of those 'little secrets' couples share."
Ron pointed toward the canvas-covered lump and queried, "Umm…Dad? Uncle Dave? What does any of that have to do with this tarp?"
"Well," Donald began, "your mother and I had a little…disagreement on who should get this for you…"
David started removing the tarp and concluded, "…so they compromised. Happy birthday, Ronnie!!"
The tarp was pulled away to reveal a brand new bike…with an interesting color scheme. The left side was adorned with green paint and 'COLORADO STATE RAMS' emblazoned in gold lettering on both the front and rear fenders. The right side was purely in black, except for the gold block lettering which read 'COLORADO BUFFALOES'. Gold-toned reflectors, symbolizing the one common color for both schools, completely lined both wheels.
Even the back of the brown leather seat was an enduring symbol of the rivalry. Thanks to a 'split embroidery' process, the left side displayed the left half of the CSU 'Ram' logo, while the right side displayed the corresponding half of the CU 'Buffalo' counterpart.
Ron shouted, "BOO-Yeah!" He then hugged both Donald and David as he went on. "You guys ROCK! Thank you so much."
While Ron began his inspection of the bike, Donald said, "You're quite welcome, son. We just have to get it out of the way for now. Your mother and Nana Rose went with Sarah to Smarty Mart so they could get the decorations and order your cake for Saturday." He glanced at his watch and observed, "They should be back any minute."
"Awesome!" Ron beamed. "And I know just how to keep them from hitting it."
He hopped on the bike, pointed it toward the open garage doorway and crowed, "It's time to see what this baby can do!"
Donald quickly grabbed the bike's handlebars and countered, "Not yet, son."
As Ron's face contorted into disbelief, David produced a box large enough to hold a set of boots. It was wrapped in red paper adorned with a pattern of little white 'N's. A white ribbon and bow completed the box's decoration.
David handed the box to Ron and explained, "You'll need these, first."
Ron removed the ribbon and bow, ripped away the paper, opened the lid, and looked inside the box. Above a layer of white tissue paper sat knee and elbow pads, all in bright red. Each of the pads had embroidered white letters. The elbow pads simply read, 'NEBRASKA' while the knee pads declared the school's battle-cry, 'GO BIG RED!'
After Ron placed the pads on his elbows and knees, he noticed a large lump underneath the tissue paper. He quickly moved the paper to reveal a helmet completely coated in white reflective paint. Its only markings were a strip of reflective red tape down the middle and a red 'N' on each side, made from the same reflective material. With a little help from his father, Ron was able to properly adjust the straps of the helmet so that it provided a comfortably snug fit on Ron's head.
Completely geared for safety, Ron looked up and saw Uncle David wearing a similar helmet and pads and holding a gleaming red bicycle beside him. Both sides of his bike had 'NEBRASKA' on the front fender and 'CORNHUSKERS' on the rear fender, with red reflectors lining both wheels.
"What do you say, 'Little Man'?" David offered. "Are you ready to roll?"
Like the cowboys of yesteryear did with their hats, the boy ran his finger across the front of his helmet and drawled, "A-Yup...I reckon I am!"
Sensing Ron's vivid imagination at work once again, David decided to play along. "Headin' anywhere in particular, hombre?"
Ron beamed a full smile, nodded in the general direction of the Possible house, and replied, "I got a place in mind. 'Mi amigo' is just over that ridge there. What do you say we rustle her up and mosey over to Bueno Nacho?"
David had to contain his laughter as he declared, "Pardner…Let's ride!"
With a couple of whoops and hollers, Ron and David pedalled off toward their intended destination…
Andy checked and double-checked every component of the prototype car. He was most concerned with the fuel distribution. Since it was not set to completely burn itself like normal gasoline, the fuel tank had to be repositioned in the front of the car. This was to ensure the by-product would not cake itself in the fuel line by going all the way from the rear of the car, through the engine, and out the exhaust, like a regular gas engine would be configured.
Andy inspected the vehicle once more. He wanted to make sure every last detail of the trial run was perfect, as he knew there would be no second chances.
The route was simple enough. Since he was at the southern end of town, he would travel north on the Upperton Expressway and test the horsepower applications first. After taking the last northbound exit for Middleton, he would travel at leisurely pace until stopping at the home of the man who used to be his best friend long ago…until the man became one of his fiercest critics. Andy wanted the personal satisfaction of showing this man his most crowning achievement.
The car's performance far exceeded even Andy's expectations. It was smooth sailing in the high-speed arena that was the UppertonExpressway. The car's acceleration was smooth, and the automatic transmission shifted flawlessly. Its idle was quiet as Andy patiently waited at the light after exiting the expressway and turned onto the road leading toward Middleton's business district. The typical 'stop and go' traffic was easily managed, without as much as a twitch in the needle of fuel gauge.
Andy's car came to a stop at the sign just a few blocks north of his final destination. Andy took a deep breath and muttered to himself, "Okay, Andy, it's time to get your just reward. When Jimmy looks at this, it's going to drive him nuts!"
He lightly tapped on the gas pedal, just enough to get the car moving again. Suddenly, the accelerator stuck, causing the car to tear down the road at an alarming speed. Andy was doing his best to get the pedal to release its grip on the floor. He tried to throw it into neutral, to prevent any further increase in speed and allow the brakes to be safely applied. Despite his best efforts, the adrenaline flowing through his veins caused the gear shifter to break in his hands.
He steered through the traffic as best he could—that is, until he approached an impassable hazard. An ice cream vendor was surrounded by parents and children, with the only vacant part of the street being the opposite sidewalk, with two riders nearing that position on their bicycles…
That sweltering Tuesday proved to be one of the hottest afternoons on record in Middleton. Since school was still a few weeks away from starting, ice cream vendors were enjoying the windfall of the increase in sales. Children and adults alike were looking for any kind of relief from the scorching summer heat.
One mobile vendor seemed to be more popular than the rest. His success came despite what some thought of him away from this job, had they ever discovered the man behind the make-up and costume. In a few hours, he would once again become Peter Hobble…the straight-laced, no-nonsense sergeant of the Middleton Police Department. For that sweltering Tuesday afternoon in mid-July, he still spread joy to the entire neighborhood as Mr. Flopsy…the lovable scamp who served up (as his sign proclaimed) 'frozen treats that can't be beat' out of 'Mr. Flopsy's Cone Cart'.
Kids loved his funny antics as Mr. Flopsyserved their ice cream with a smile and a quick joke. Parents loved his 'low-fat' frozen alternatives. Both groups loved the fact he was the only one of the vendors not to sharply raise his prices and gouge his customers in light of the recent heat wave.
The 'Cone Cart' was parked just outside the Possible residence. They were some of his best customers, with the boys each buying a 'Mega Cone 3000' and Kim getting a 'Pandaroo Cream-sicle' nearly every day Mr. Floppy ran this route.
Whenever she had 'time off' from the hospital, Dr. Anne Possible indulged in a 'Triple Choco-Bomb'. She knew full well the amount of exercise needed to burn off all those calories. Chasing after two sugar-charged sons and a 'highly-spirited' daughter all day proved more than an ample opportunity to do just that.
If only she had been home that day, she would have sprung into action after what transpired in those next few seconds…
…From one direction, two figures on bicycles approached the truck…
…From the other direction, a car was hurtling uncontrollably toward the truck…
Ron and David approached the Possible house and saw the 'Cone Cart' parked just past the driveway. It seemed like dozens of people, including Kim and the aforementioned 'Tweebs', were already trying to place their orders.
"Uncle Dave," Ron called out as they pedaled, "Can we get a 'Star-Blaster Pop' first?"
"Sure thing, 'Little Man'." David yelled back. "I think we both need to cool off for a bit. Besides, it looks like that little red-head over there is sweet on you."
Before Ron could argue the point, he and David saw the car coming right at them. Instinctively, David repositioned his bike in an effort to shield Ron from the speeding sedan.
The automobile seemed to be aiming for the riders as it hopped the curb. It struck both of them with a sickening cacophony of metal and bone before spinning into a large maple tree.
The impact threw Ron completely off his bike. He felt his helmeted head smash into a solid surface before he bounced back onto the street, uncontrollably rolling a few times before resting on his back. He unsuccessfully tried moving around to search for his uncle. He felt his breath growing too short for any attempt to call out the man's name. Ron only felt the excruciating pain for another instant before darkness claimed his bloodied eyesight…
…Andy quickly swerved the car away from the road, in an effort to keep it from hitting anybody. The attempt only caused the car to spin out of control, smacking directly into the riders. The angle of the impact caused the car's back tires to roll over the adult rider before ramming head-on into a nearby tree.
The seat belts snapped on impact, causing the deployed air bag to knock him to the floor. The broken remains of the gear shifter gashed his face as his head struck the steering column. Soon after that, the over-sized fuel tank ruptured, spilling its contents into the front seats of the car. Gallons upon gallons of the experimental fuel deluged over Andy, coating him from head to toe. The substance fossilized him as it began to slowly turn into a solid form…
…Thankfully for all concerned, Officer Hobble (aka 'Mr. Flopsy') kept a walkie-talkie, tuned to the Middleton Police Department's official radio band, in the 'Cone Cart'. With the crowd's attention focused elsewhere, he closed the windows of the 'Cone Cart', changed quickly into his spare MPD uniform, and grabbed the walkie-talkie. While keeping the on-lookers away from the scene, he immediately called for help.
Within minutes, every available rescue worker in Middleton rushed to the scene. While policemen kept the crowds and news crews a safe distance from the scene, paramedics approached the cyclists first. Their assessment of the adult rider was abrupt. Checking for a pulse was a mere formality, as the lower half of the man was completely crushed under the frame of his bike. After police photographers captured enough images for their investigation, the paramedics covered the body with a sheet.
The boy, on the other hand, had a chance to pull through. Yes, his leg was broken in two places, his wrist was shattered, his ribs were cracked, and every one of his multiple head injuries was quite serious.
…All things considered, it could've been much worse…
The speed of the impact on the sidewalk split his helmet right down the middle. Were it not for that added protection, his skull would have been crushed instantly. The elbow and knee pads were shredded; but they did their job, as his elbows and knees merely sustained superficial cuts and bruises.
As the paramedics placed a collar brace on the boy's neck, his body grew still. They tried various methods to bring him back, but were finally forced to pull a sheet over him as well.
Other rescue workers rushed over to the car. Upon sight of the substance oozing from the windows, they quickly rushed back to their truck to don their 'haz-mat' suits. They forced the open the car's door with a metal-separation device called 'The Jaws of Life'. Hearing muffled screams inside a solid block of the substance, hammers and chisels were used to carefully chip away as much of the block as possible…
Author's ending notes:
While the conclusion of this tale will be released next week, I will still be posting further stories every two weeks until further notice.
I hope you are enjoying these 'ch-RON-icles'.
I have a few more of them, including a multi-chapter piece involving a magical mask and Ron's first venture into hockey.
Please watch for new 'ch-RON-icles' as they come down the line.
The production of this story, like that for any work of fiction, is solely dependent upon the constructive feedback of its readers. If you like it, I will gladly make more. If you think of ways to make it better, I am always open to suggestions. If you really think it's a piece of garbage, stop me before I strike again!! Once again, Review me, e-mail me if you wanna reach me! If you want to 'PM' me, that's ok!
Your friend in writing,
The Samurai Crunchbird