Hey everyone!

I'm writing this story for Monkey Fist Appreciation Day. I started this story in…February, close to Valentines if not a bit earlier, so hopefully it'll show my hard work. I've written longer than I usually do for one-shots and as you'll soon find out, I've even added some elements that I'm trying to write for the first time. I hope I'll get everyone in character and keep this story cute, funny, and maybe even creepy.

This is my first time trying to write many characters and put them into this…situation where it is…a challenge, let's say, to keep them in character but make it funny and almost impossible.

:P Nevertheless, I LOVE MONKEY FIST! I'm sure those who are reading this agree.

Disclaimer: I own nothing from KP

Side note: I had to go to Hell and back to find out the name of Drakken's old cupcake factory. I knew it had Hank in it but I kept thinking 'Uncle Hank' for some odd reason XD

AND YES! Later on in the story, my friends and I actually played those games and did those…dares/truths! Guess which ones :P

Living as a high profiled criminal wasn't always easy.

One was always moving. There was no such thing as 'home sweet home', only a 'temporary hide out'. Even then, the hide out felt like something of a hotel, it felt like living outside might be slightly better. Of course indoors had bed and AC as well as heat, plus a million other things outside didn't…but that wasn't why outdoors was a bit better.

Living in some strange place always feels…well, strange. It makes one feel out of place and abandoned, perhaps isolated and depressed in some cases. If people like Monty stayed in their hide outs for many months before appearing, and eventually having to hide in another, they would try their best to make the place feel…cozy to them, familiar. They would try to hang things on the walls, perhaps even paint them if desperate, and set up several things that were imported from the place they once called home.

Yet it never really was a home.

Deep down in both their hearts and minds, they knew they would have to leave the place sooner or later. As soon as they poked their heads out to commit some forsaken and hopeless crime, they would have to migrate to some other safe haven. So this prevented them from trying to feel like that place was 'home'.

At least, this was Monkey Fist's situation.

To him, he had only one home and that was in his childhood…looking back, it hardly was one though. Oh yes indeed it was familiar, he grew up there obviously! He lived some of his adult life in his castle like home, practicing Tai Shing Pek Kwar in the many hidden passages he found as a child.

Every stone was well known to him, every crack in every step located precisely in his mind map, every source of a draft and breeze easily found. He knew the place inside and out along with several hidden passages. That's what the result was of a bored unoccupied youngster with the curiosity of a cat was. Every drop of water that was from the sky and slipped through the cracks, or every drop of liquid that dripped down from a leaky pipe, was recognizable to him.

After all, he grew up in the place; he should know every dusty inch of the place!

Monty Fiske called that place 'home' just for that reason; it was well-known to him. It knew him as he knew it. Hell, the walls seemed to whisper with the sneaky wind and the doors groaned to greet him when he visited it, or when he came home from a long day in the outside world.

Yet it wasn't always warm and cozy as a 'home' should be.

In stories and movies, there was always a mother and a father present to love and protect their child or children. They always depicted the many scenes of adoration and happiness. For example, the winter scene always had a roaring fire with stories filling the warm air. The child would always be in the lap of one parent while sipping hot chocolate full to the brim of mini marshmallows.

Another one of Monty's favorite childhood images from a story was what the parents would do when the child was sick. The kid would always be chin high in blankets, flesh a feverish pink. The mother would bring a tray of warm tea, chicken noodle soup with crackers, and a cinnamon stick that would substitute for dessert as well as a spoon of flavor for the tea. The father would read stories to the kid until he felt asleep and be there almost right before he awoke.

Sadly, that's what they were; images and sought after fantasies made up by authors and writers to be shown for money. They were nothing! They meant nothing! Their value in real life was as real as pixie dust! They were figments of one's imagination, especially of those of a child's!

Monty Fiske's childhood was nothing like that.

Of course he had both parents and they loved him, they had to love him since he was their flesh and blood. But as he learned, there was a huge difference between 'love' and 'showing love'. There was a difference between distant love and just love; it took him years to figure out the two although he experienced only one.

His parents owned the castle mansion the old fashion way; inherence. It had been in the Fiske family for several generations; one day Monty had been so bored during his 14th year of living on this Earth that he actually found out precisely how many. Through the years of learning more and more about the monkey martial arts, he forgot about it.

For as long as he could recall, his parents always seemed to have high respects for one another but there was no real love between them. They probably got married just for money, land, or power. Either that or their parents had forced them to wed, something that they never did to Monty. Perhaps they had been forced to marry and, seeing how unhappy they were at times, decided to let their offspring choose his own path and such.

And what a path that was.

From becoming an archeologist with a fascination of finding old things to being the Monkey Master was not the first path he envisioned. The rush he felt when he found ancient books or objects could compare to no rare rich narcotic. While many of the world's rich youngsters got caught up in sex, drugs, and in short, stupidity, he was behaving himself like a true English gentleman.

He contented himself with searching for myths and legends, finding an almost carnal pleasure in finding out these 'made up stories' were indeed fact! A part of him always wondered if it was considered healthy to feel such a thing and take it so serious…but it was definitely better than doing real drugs and such.

His parents always disapproved of this. It wasn't like they announced it at every dinner, oh no, but they had their ways. When he would mention he heard of a rumor of some beautiful artifact nearby, they would raise their brows in a way that reminded him of questioning insanity. When he would talk about his discoveries, they would turn their noses up and close their ears, pretending to listen as they dined. He finally stopped bringing books and maps to the dining table when his father actually questioned out loud if they were true blood.

They were rich, so why go get dirty and look for some silly old thing?

That was how they thought.

That was why home to him was…a bit off compared to those fantasy stories he heard. Although it never felt perfect, it had the sense of familiarity, of knowing it. It made him…content and comforted in times of distress.

So when he arrived at one of his long lasting hide outs, he felt like he was a stranger. All feelings, even those of vague familiarity, were gone. Part of him debated if he should return to his old castle but suspected that it'd be too much of an obvious target, leading to his arrest.

His weary body just wanted a bed to lie on at this moment, making his thoughts short and choppy. Whether it was a hard bed or a soft bed, his body also knew the difference between that or the one he used since his childhood. Ignoring the annoyance he would no doubt feel later, he walked in and turned the light on.


The sheer force of the shout almost made him fly out the door again. In that split second of time, he instantly thought it was his monkeys who shouted it. After all, who could be inside his hide out other than them? Plus he had learned to speak and understand the monkey language quite well so it was possible.

But if it was his monkeys shouting such an absurd thing, why did they have blond, black, and red, even green, hair? Not hair, but clothes as well! Last time he checked, his monkeys were all brown and wore only black suits…well, except for the occasional pink or yellow cooking apron. Still; this did not explain the colors he saw.

It took a brief moment for his eyes to adjust and when they did, his jaw dropped.

Before him stood a number of people; DNAmy, Killigan, Drakken, Shego, Motor Ed, Señor Senior Jr., Señor Senior Sr., Rufus, Kim Possible, and, worst of all, Ronald Stoppable!

"AHHHH!" He roared in surprise, his eyes almost as huge as they had been when he figured out who Gorilla Fist was. "NOOOO!" In fact, it was almost like déjà vu; his movements, eyes bulging, voice raised; everything was like that one time so many years ago.

"Happy birthday Monkey Fist!" They all seemed to have practice their timing before, speaking in unison. The force of it was not as bad as before when they had screamed it, but it was enough to make him feel weak with shock.

"…Wh…wha…what t…what the devil is going on here?!" He suddenly roared once he got a bit of his senses back.

"We're throwing you a birthday party, snooky wooky!" DNAmy's shrill voice was heard in response. "Why do you think we decorated?"

At this, he blinked and looked around. Up until now, he had been so preoccupied with the fact that people, not to mention his enemies, were inside his house that 'decorations' were far away on his mind. Now that it had been brought up, however, he regretted looking around instantly.

Streamers of gold and blue were posted all over the wall, parts taped while other parts were tacked with tacky thumbnails. Posters of crudely drawn monkeys, bananas, and cakes were posted around with huge oddly fonted words of 'happy birthday'. Balloons of all colors, some too big ready to pop and some probably blown by Rufus, covered the walls as well.

"This is…" He struggled for the right words, gaping at the mess.

"Beautiful?" Kim supplied.

"Annoying?" Shego tried.

"Creepily happy?" Ron threw it.

"A token of my undying love?" DNAmy batted her lashes several times with a lusty voice.

"HORRIBLE!" He roared after a long moment of being interrupted. Taken back, he felt his legs almost give out and looked around. "I demand you explain yourself at once!"

Dr. Drakken snorted as he crossed his blue arms, "Isn't it obvious? We're throwing you a birthday party since you're turning…"

"Don't even say it." Monkey Fist glared at the man. Though he was a bit vain, not as much as women of course, he didn't like his age. The higher the numbers went remained a constant reminder that it was one more year that he had with no heir to carry on his life's work.

"Afraid the rest of your hair will turn grey if we say it?" Shego taunted in a singsong voice. "Speakin' of gray, at your age plus all the stress these three," she pointed her thumb at the good guys, "you should have some…do you dye your hair?"

"I do not wish for any of you people to be there!" He snapped instead of answering, "Leave now!" He was moments away from shoving them out of the place himself when Señor Senior Jr. stepped forward with bottles in his hands.

"Party!" He shouted before passing out drinks. It was clear by the cheers of the small crowd that they not had no intention of leaving.

"We even have a cake for you!" Drakken exclaimed, pulling off what looked like a small sheet from some pastry. "I had to fire up my old company but it was worth it."

Before him was a cake in shape of him, one hand behind his head and the other hand looking ready to grab his own thigh. He had a sultry expression on his face, winking with a grin on his face. His body, on the cake that was, was naked with the occasional hair or two on his chest. What shocked him was his lower regions; he wore a red thong but…the icing on where his shaft would be stood at least three or four inches high! No doubt that was DNAmy's doing. On the side of the box, it read, 'Made by Hank's Gourmet Cupcakes'.

With a heavy sigh, he rubbed the back of his neck. Why did it seem like the world was against him? They wanted to humiliate him and embaress him. Chippy suddenly appeared almost out of thin air before chattering at him, almost scolding. "Hey!" He snapped at Ron. "…Give me a beer."

After all Chippy was right; he did need to loosen up, even if it was just one time.

The next morning was hell.

Some idiot left the curtains wide open…actually, the curtains had been ripped down, allowing the afternoon sun to shine upon the hungover group. They all hissed in their stupor and sleep like vampires, curling up one another.

Monty's eyes snapped open, instantly blinded by the light that felt like a lazer thanks to alcohol, to feel someone move behind him. Rubbing his eyes, he yawned and sat up. Instantly his head spun and the cake, alcohol, and who knew what else in his stomach threatened to come up.

Turning his head to his side, his eyes grew the size of teacup plates.

Next to him was a familiar blue man basically naked except for some boxers. The scary thing though (as if it weren't scary already) was that those boxers he wore…were Monty's! Mouth agape, Monkey Fist looked over at the others on the floor.

It looked like Christmas off in the corner with green and red spooned together…oh wait, that was Killigan and Shego! Not even a yard away snuggled three people though the room was far from chilly, let alone cold. From what Monty could see, the red headed Kim Possible was sandwiched between Señor Senior Sr. and Motor Ed, looking oddly content!

Across the room from then he Señor Senior Jr. laying with his feet to Dementor's head…who was wearing his 'housecoat' though this article of clothing was far more…frilly, in a sense. The next pair almost made Monty overcome the shock and horror to laugh, almost. In Ron's arms lay Chippy with DNAmy on the other side, snoring like a man!

Everyone was there and either deeply asleep or suffering a hangover. Except…Monkey Fist frowned at this; where was that naked mole rat at? As he shifted to stand slowly, he suddenly yelped and flew back onto the floor. Looking down at his (really they were Drakken's) boxers, he saw Rufus poke his head out yawning. The creature rubbed his eyes but paused to see Monty's aghasted face, his own face similar to a deer caught in the headlights.

"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!" Just like the day before, that was the first 'word' to leave Monty's mouth. He looked pale with horror yet pink with rage, a very odd combination which made his skin color look…well, weird. It was like he saw the Saw Puppet on the bicycle coming at him slowly, terrifyingly.

At this, everyone seemed to jolt awake, their eyes wide though it took their foggy alcoholic brains a moment to realize their surroundings. The first thing they saw was Monty staring down at Rufus who still was half in his boxers, which were really Drakken's boxers.

The second thing they saw was each other. And needless to say, this was not a good situation. Seconds later their screams joined Monty's which still, oddly enough, echoed.

"What happened last night?!" DNAmy shouted as she looked around, looking panicked. Clearly she rather wake next to the host.

"I don't…" Monty paused suddenly as he made a move to stand. He grabbed Rufus, all but flinging him towards his master and shuddered. Yet when he moved to stand up, he felt something…under him. His first thought: Oh please don't say someone shoved a banana in me!

When his looked down, fear making his eyes bulge, he felt like a complete jackass. Relief made his limbs become limp and weak as he sighed. He pulled out the thing he sat on, which was not in him.

It was a videotape.

On the top of it, it read 'Play Me'.

When he was sure everyone was dressed and following him, he stopped in his living room. There was a large TV that looked out of place with the out of date VHS player under it. Sliding the tape in, he watched what had happened last night.

The video of last night…

They had just finished playing 'Pin the Tail on the Donkey' at 11, then spent an hour playing Twister. Needless to say, they were in some…less than desirable positions. To everyone else, it was funny, or at least until they found themselves in the position of the laughed at person.

This was why when Shego found herself under Motor Ed that she suggested something else. "Why don't we play TDoD?"

"TDoD?" Monkey Fist looked up from his less than warm cup of tea, ignoring the dissatisfying taste. "What is that?"

Shego scowled, rolling her green eyes as she crossed her arms, "Have you never went to college?! TDoD is the funniest game alive. It stands for Truth Dare or Drink. I swear if any of you even ask me how you play it, you'll be eating plasma."

The name itself explained what it was. Just like in Truth or Dare, you chose one and someone would dare/truth you. If you refuse to do the one you were told to do, you had to drink.

Shego made a quick chart as Chippy got the drinks.

Each drink was given in a shot glass, allowing the person to remain awake until the last drink.

Drink One – Wine

Drink Two – Beer

Drink Three – Sake

Drink Four – Brandy

Drink Five – Rum

Drink Six – Tequila

Drink Seven – Whiskey

Drink Eight – Vodka

Drink Nine – Kahlua

Drink Ten – Moonshine

It all seemed…brilliant! It was exactly what that party needed to liven it up from a lame kiddie social gathering to an adult one. The fact that it had hard alcohol transformed it from a teenage-truth-or-dare game into a…well, an adult one. One that counted, that mattered.

"You're up first." Shego randomly pointed at Ronald.

There was what looked like an evil dark gleam in the young mans eye as he sat down in the circle. Scanning over everyone across and next to him, he stopped his search once he reached Monkey Fist. This made Monty both scowl and gulp.

"Monkey Fist." He said with an ever so rare hint of sadism in his voice, "I dare you to…sit in a tub of banana pudding!" He pointed at the man, laughing evilly. It was clear he wanted to get revenge on the man in the only way he knew how.

Looking a bit put off Monty weighed his options; bathe in banana pudding…or drink for his first dare ever. With a heavy sigh, he decided. "Chippy, start making some banana pudding." Everyone snickered or stayed silent from the astonishment of his agreeing nature.

"Well um…" Ron cleared his throat, obviously having expected the man to drink instead. "I guess we can continue till the…pudding gets here." He shuddered; it hadn't been in his mind until now that he was going to be in the same room as a naked Monty! Oh he regretted the dare already!

"Yeah…um…Motor Ed…your turn." Shego announced since everyone else was pretty much silent. Something told Monty that this night was going to get a hell of a lot weirder before the sun came up.

The grungy looking man stroked his chin in a thoughtful manner, his eyes up towards the ceiling as though the choices of what to do was written there. Finally he snapped his fingers and smiled widely. His eyes landed on Dementor who had changed into his 'housecoat' to keep away the chill of Monty's hide out.

"Yo Dimension dude, truth or dare?"

Instantly Dementor's face twisted with irritation and hatred, "My name is Dementor you fool!" After a moment he added, "Truth." After they had seen what Ronald did to the host, it would be a while until someone was daring enough to choose dare again.

"Okay…dude, do you, like, cross-dress? Or like, are you just totally gay?" His gruff voice rang out, causing a new round of silence to lie around them. Moments later, everyone burst out laughing; one time or another in their lives, they had wondered the same thing.

Dementor's face turned a dark crimson in a mere for seconds. It was unclear if he was embarrassed or if he was just really, really, really mad. Instead of answering though, he grumbled, "Drink."

In a shot glass, wine occupied the emptiness before it was handed over to him. The man drank it without a sound, noticing it was the cheap wine…it probably was purposely cheap for the game, he thought. Placing it before him so he wouldn't lose track, he cleared his throat.

As if it had been planned, Chippy then walked in with a vat of yellow thick substance. He placed it on the ground with ease, courtesy of being a monkey ninja for several years. Making some sort of noise, he stepped back and blocked his master as Monty undressed.

Everyone had their jaws open and their eyes wide, except for DNAmy who smiled ear-to-ear with a flushed face. Keeping his back to them, Monty gulped his hatred and anxiety down. Almost waddling to the vat, he turned but covered his member with his hand, slowly sliding in with a grimace on his face. "…Banana pudding shouldn't go in certain crevices."

"Er…right." Ron averted his eyes.

One hour later…

Everyone had taken a drink; some were on their sixth or seventh drink but no one was below their fourth drink. Some people like Kim were feeling dizzy and tipsy already. It was true that the teen hero was really a good girl who never drank, while on the other hand Señor Senior Sr. made people wondering if he was just drinking water instead of his seventh shot of strong alcohol.

It was now Killigan's turn since they decided sometime between the banana pudding cooling and it crusting slowly to go in a circle. It was easier to remember in case they got too tipsy to recall the odd string of turns.

"Hmm…" his eyes were slightly bloodshot but not to where he looked drunk, "ah! Kim, lass, truth or dare?"

After a moment of hesitation, which for the tipsy girl seemed more like a moment of trying to understand, she slurred, "Fare!!" It was good that they were sitting on the ground or she might have flipped off her chair.

Deciding to take advantage of this, he exclaimed, "Ah, I dare ya to strip & wear a…a…whipped cream bikini!" Everyone paused; had long had he been imagining that?

"Fi-ayne!" She hiccuped halfway through the word and threw her hands up, looking like she was trying to do the wave. Without a moment to spare, she stripped right in front of everyone while Chippy got the whipped cream. When she stood in only her panties and bra, she grabbed the can and nearly fell backward from it.

"Ya have to be completely nude!" Killigan corrected his dare, snickering as she turned her back to them. The sonud of whip cream shooting from the can filled the air as she covered her bare parts, getting some in her hair as she sat back down. Ron was gaping at his girlfriend, stunned by how the whipped cream er…lacked the ability to stand solid.

Jealous that another female got all the attention, DNAmy spoke up in her singsong shrill voice, "My turn!" As if planned beforehand, she looked at the monkey man stewing in pudding and smiled, "Montykins, truth or dare?"

Groaning, he thought it through. "Dare." If he said truth, she'd probably come up with some absurd question that would be loaded, ready to shoot him with every answer. Still, dare was just as bad…so he was screwed either way.

An episode of some silly show came to her mind. It was a plagurized version of the Simpsons…but she couldn't recall the name. Family Dude? Guy Dad? Family Dad? Shrugging it off, she said, "Alright Monkeykins, I dare you to phone the nearest pub and in our thickest English accent…say… 'Is your refrigerator running? It must run like you; very homosexually.'"

The glare he gave the lady was by far the dullest he had managed all night. "I'll drink, thank you." He leaned forward to get the eighth drink, vodka, from Shego. He grimaced again though, feeling the crusted pudding crack and move around. Oh he would get revenge on Ron for this!

As soon as the liquid entered his throat, he shuddered and felt his vision turn blurry for only a second. Oh yes, he was indeed going to get drunk tonight! This made him laugh a bit inwardly; him, Monty Fiske, the most sophsticated Englishman about to get drunk!

Señor Senior Jr. was up next. He rubbed his eyes viciously to try and keep awake but seemed to be slowly failing. "Hm…Shego!" He clapped his hands rapidly, smiling widely. "Truth or dare?" He asked with his accent thickened.

The green skined woman instantly replied with no hesitation. "Dare."

"I dare you to…take off your clothes and sit in…Motor Ed's lap in only a bra and your panties!" He exclaimed like a child in a candy store. He seemed so eager to see her nearly naked that it made her hesitate.

"Fine." She stood and all but ripped off her clothes. Looking over at Motor Ed, she grimaced at how excited (in many ways) he was. Wincing, she sat in his lap and slapped his hands away from her waist. "That better be your wrench poking me!" Shego growled viciously.

Motor Ed coughed and cleared his throat; he would have shouted in joy but with the fierce woman so close to his member…

"My turn…I deserve it." Shego mumbled as an afterthought. "Monty; truth or dare?"

"Truth." He instantly snapped, almost shouting. After all, what could this woman do in truth?

It seemed like there had been one question on her mind all night, for she spoke with confidence, "Okay since I had mentioned your age earlier and since I still spot no gray hairs…do you dye your hair black?"

Instantly Monty felt his assumptions backfire and slap his face. Clearing his throat, he sat back against the edge of the tub. "…Yes."

End of the tape…

The next day - evening…

Monkey Fist searched the internet for clues about any monkey activity around the world. He blinked to see he had an email…what was this? Frowning, he clicked it open and clicked a link.

A moment later the hide out walls he lived in shook as he screamed.

The video was on Youtube.