Kim Possible: Season Four - Chapter Five

5. Amateur Hour

“What could be better than watching eight back-to-back episodes of The Fearless Ferret in a row? Watching them all again! Starting over now, TheFearless Ferret Double Marathon on TV Trash Heap!”

Two sets of burned retinas remained hypnotized by the lights and sounds coming from the Possible’s big screen. Kim was sprawled along the couch as her hand rested on Ron’s head. He was planted on the floor with his head using Kim’s midriff as a pillow. Kim cracked her mouth just enough to speak clearly.

“Maybe it’s time for a channel change,” she barely managed to say. Ron groaned as he reached for the remote on the coffee table but without moving the rest of his body, it remained out of his grasp. Realizing Ron’s effort had failed, Kim made an equally apathetic attempt. Sighing as she resigned herself to another four hours of The Fearless Ferret, her mother entered the room adjusting her earrings and straightening a very flattering dress.

Mrs. Dr. Possible surveyed her daughter and the blonde haired boy who was essentially her third son with a touch of concern. She had seen the pair in relatively the same vegetative state for the first week of summer vacation and she had had enough. The elder redhead picked up the remote and shut off the TV bringing Kim and Ron out of their trances and to attention.

“You need to get off that couch before you two are molded to it,” Mrs. Dr. Possible said flatly. “Your father and I are going to the theater. Keep an eye on the twins for us, please?”

Ron began to stretch as he stood.

“I’ll go get the mind control chips...” he started with a yawn before realizing that Mrs. Dr. P. was still in front of him. “...and salsa for the, um, fiesta.”

Kim slapped her forehead with a groan and waited for an icy stare from her mother.

“Kim, you know the rules...,”

“Only use mind control if the safety of the neighborhood is threatened...,” Kim interrupted.

No sooner had she finished speaking than did the rumble of a jet rattle the living room. The room’s occupants snapped to see a toy fighter being piloted by a pink blob chased into the room by two smaller crafts. Lasers shot from pursuers as the pursuee rolled to dodge. The crafts looped and weaved and rolled through the air as Kim, Ron, and Mrs. Dr. Possible took cover under the coffee table.

Rufus checked his six to see his two opponents locked on his tail. The naked mole rat knew he had to spilt the two crafts apart if he was to have a chance. He boldly straightened his flight path to allow the lead bogey to get a laser lock. As soon as the warning tone filled the cockpit, Rufus swung hard to the right and then immediately to the left. He turned to see the tactic had worked to perfection. The lead fighter found itself crossed up and overshot the pink rodent’s jet.

With the second fighter now assuming the lead alone, Rufus aimed for the floor lamp waiting for the last possible moment to swerve away. His pursuer realized too late what was happening and collided with lamp sending the craft into an uncontrolled spin. The pink rodent completed his turn to find himself in perfect position on the other bogey. As his craft signaled he had a good lock, his eyes narrowed and he sneered, “Buh-bye” jamming his paw onto the fire button.

A small firecracker sized rocket thrust itself off of the wing of Rufus’s jet. Its target knew the threat that hummed towards it and began taking evasive action but the missile closed in despite every loop and turn its prey could manage. In a final desperate ploy, the fighter dived under the coffee table splitting Kim and Ron by mere inches. Almost before they could react to the fighter, the missile whizzed by. Ron let out a gasp as he noticed a few singed strands of his blond hair smoldering on his head.

Climbing straight towards the ceiling, the fighter released a series of flares to throw the missile off. The craft almost scrapped the ceiling as it reached the top of its loop. Confused by the heat of the flares, the missile impacted with the ceiling as the small explosion sent smoke and sheet rock everywhere. Rufus scowled as not only his attack failed, but the second craft had regained control and was pulling around to his tail.

Making a snap decision, the naked mole rat lined his jet up for a spot he hoped was right and reached up to his ejection handle. With nerves of steel, Rufus watched as the first bogey, unable to see him in his path, continued to finish its loop and the second breathing up his tailpipe. Seeing his now or never moment, Rufus jerked the cable and felt himself compressed by the massive g’s of his ejection seat. The first fighter collided with Rufus’s abandoned jet in a burst of flames and metal. Unable to react in time, the last fighter found itself engulfed in the fireball made by the other two craft meeting the same fate.

As the bits of debris and smoke subsided, three terrified figures emerged from under the coffee table dusting themselves off. Ron looked up to see Rufus floating delicately towards him in his parachute. The boy reached out his hand and allowed his hairless friend to land in it.

“Wicked sick jet fighting skills, little buddy,” Ron exclaimed. Rufus squeaked a “thanks” as he shed his chute and helmet Kim-style.

Two small brown haired boys burst into the room brandishing remote controls. Their excited faces turned sour as they saw the smoldering wreckage of their jet fighters.

“Aw, man, Rufus!”

“Those took two weeks to build!”

As Jim and Tim sifted through the remains, Kim turned to her mother.

“So when exactly is the neighborhood not in jeopardy?” Kim said with bit of teenage bite. Mrs. Dr. Possible’s sigh was as close to a concession as she was willing to give.

“Boys, what have we told you about arial dogfights in the house?” their mother asked sternly. The twins pondered a moment before shrugging their shoulders. “Actually, that may be the first time... Hmm, new rule: no air battles in the house.”

Peering into the living room, Mr. Dr. Possible reached the bottom of the steps in a panic.

“What in crimany is going on down here?” he shouted in confusion. Jim and Tim scooped the remains of their fighters and tried to dash past their father up the stairs.

“Boys!” came a stern command forcing the identical twins to stop. The Possible patriarch held out his hand and collected wreckage from his sons. He briefly admired their work though it was in ruins before leaning down to their level.

“While your mother and I are out,” he started with a hush. “I want you to keep an eye on those two.” His eyes led the twins to Kim and Ron in the living room. The identical twins immediately crossed their arms gave their father a ‘what’s in it for us?’ look.

This is the problem with having super intelligent offspring , Mr. Dr. Possible thought with a grunt.

“There may be an experimental batch of new rocket fuel on the top shelf of the garage,” he said with disdain.

“Hicka-bicka-boo.”

“Hoo-sha.”

As the boys high-fived and scampered away to collect their couple-sitting payment, Mrs. Dr. Possible joined her husband in the hallway before turning back to Kim and Ron for one last set of instructions.

“Money’s on the counter for take-out. Don’t worry about waiting up. We’ll be out late,” she said as she slipped out the door with Mr. Dr. P.

As Ron flopped on the couch with the phone book and began to look over their options, Kim tapped the portable phone to the back of her neck waiting for Ron to list off an acceptable suggestion.

“Abe’s Ribs...? Too messy. Kosher Pizza? Didn’t think that was possible... Berta’s Norwegian, can’t put my finger on why but, bleck! ...China Palace?” Ron added as he turned to Kim. She didn’t hesitate to dial the number Ron was pointing at. He hadn’t suggested Bueno Nacho and she wasn’t going to miss the chance for some variety.

------------

Kim pushed the carton of lo mien away cursing herself for eating more than she wanted but as she took in the four males in front of her scarfing food like wild animals, she could help but feel the rub-off effect. A digital beep indicating the top of the hour interrupted the chomping and slurping that filled the dining room. Mouths still full, the twin exploded from their chairs and headed for the hall only to be intercepted by a red blur.

“Clear your spots first, tweebs,” Kim ordered as she blocked their route.

“But our new favorite show’s on!” Jim objected.

“We’re gonna miss the start!” Tim completed the thought.

“That’s not all you’re gonna miss,” Kim snarled standing her ground.

The twins had only a split-second to evaluate their options but both reached the same conclusion. An ordinary sitter, they would handle without an afterthought. However, this was not an ordinary sitter. The pint-sized Possbiles rushed to clear their dishes and glasses to avoid missing any more of their show than they had too.

Kim sat quietly back down only to grimace as the excessive banging of plates landing in the sink vibrated her back teeth. Ron tossed the wrapper of a fortune cookie away and cracked open the small treat.

“’You have many special friends’,” he read from the small slip of paper. “Oh, yeah, right. These are always so generic,” he added with a sigh before catching cold stares from the redhead seated across from him and a stuffed faced naked mole rat standing on the table

“But sooo true,” Ron gushed to cover his faux pas. He began to gather what remained of dinner to take to the kitchen as if he were changing the subject.

Letting him slide, Kim watched him begin to clear the table as she reflected on the last few weeks. Nothing seemed different with Ron, but yet, somehow there was. In the short time between prom and the end of the school year, Ron had experienced a minor bump in popularity. Not from the popular kids, of course, but the average guys in school treated him like royalty trying to copy everything about him in hopes of duplicating his success. To his credit, Ron deflected the chance to let it go to his head but it was still more than disturbing to see a couple hundred Ron clones running around the halls.

Missions seemed to be business as usual. Ron still had the same catostrophic effect on equipment as before and his pants were still slaves to gravity, but yet, things just seemed a little bit smoother.

At first, the subtle changes had scared her and she wasn’t even sure they were changes at all. Kim lost several nights of sleep wrestling with the thought of loosing the Ron she had fallen in love with, her best friend, to the pseudo Ron that had occasionally reared his ugly head. But as the small things that were essentially Ron kept bursting through, Kim’s fears melted away. The things that made Ron, well, Ron; that gave him his ‘Ronness’ were all still there. But there was still just something different and she was begining to like it.

Kim slid out of her chair and started to help him. The two carried plates and leftover cartons into the kitchen as Rufus leaped between them finishing the last of the oriental cuisine. After setting everything down, Kim impulsively took his hands and pulled him face to face with a coy smile--a move neither of them were expecting.

“Ron, I was thinking that maybe tomorrow we could do something besides watching television all day,” she started afraid of what it was that was pushing her to this course of action. “You could swing by on your scooter and we could grab some take-out from Bueno Nacho...,”

Ron could feel his body temperature rise as she slowly drew him closer.

“...and find a nice quiet spot for a picnic... Maybe head down to the lake...”

The tension was almost too intense for Ron as he was now nose to nose with his girlfriend. Girlfriend... The word flew around in his head like a bird trapped in a room unable to find a way out. Exhausting itself, it finally nested in the middle and seemed to get comfortable with its new surroundings. Ron had been making an effort to take initiative and make a few ‘moves’ on his own, but any encounter that seemed to be headed beyond holding hands still freaked him out. In every tender embrace, he wrestled against everything made up his pre-prom conception of Kim.

They appeared like words before him on a computer screen. Known her since pre-K, my playmate, my confidant, my partner, my ace-in-the-hole, the one I turn to when I’m down, the one who turns to me when she’s down, my first friend, my best friend. The words painted a beautiful picture but also formed a wall that kept him from completing the thoughts and feelings that had rushed into his soul during the turmoil before the prom.

The thought of any kind barrier between him and a deeper intimacy with her tore at him as he locked his eyes to Kim’s. The emerald orbs pierced him as they waited for him. Ron could not figure what is was about this moment, what was said or not said, felt or not felt, but the new word that sat in the middle of his mind grew larger and larger as it reproduced itself over and over. A blinking cursor appeared at the end of his list. The period was squashed in an instant and slowly, a new set of words trailed the moving bar: ‘ my girlfriend ’. The unseen typist seemed to pause, reflecting on a new idea, before closing the sentence. But rather than the customary period, it was a comma that now ended Ron’s list.

A volatile cocktail of hormones swirled in the air waiting for the right spark to ignite a chain of events that would send a certain blonde haired boy to places where the laws of physics no longer applied. Sensing ‘danger,’ Ron’s natural talent for breaking tension spurred his mouth to motion.

“Are you sure you want to do all that instead of just watching some TV?” he said with a more seductive tone than he intended.

“Absolutely certain,” she purred as she kissed him on the nose. Kim took his hand and led him back to the living room.

“Take cover!” Jim yelled as he sighted Kim and Ron walking hand in hand. Quickly, both boys whipped out two shields made of tinfoil and concealed themselves.

“What are those?” Kim asked with annoyance.

“Kootie shields,” came the twins unified response. Before Kim could give a sarcastic response, Ron chimed in.

“Ooh, do they work?”

Kim could only grunt as she seated herself and Ron on the couch and turned their attention to the show Jim and Tim had been so eager to watch.

“And we’re back. This is Lairs, the show about the totally wicked homes of the super villains. We’re kicking it with Professor D to the Mentor. Word up, D.”

“Happy zo be zhillin’ wisch you, how zhould I zhay, dawg?”

Kim and Ron dropped their jaws in amazement before looking at each other in disbelief.

“Take us through this phat-cut living room of yours.”

“Well, I wanzed a nice cozhy place to curl up wisch a book and some cocoa and relaxz when not tryingz zo take over zhe world. I zhink it needz some work, butz everyone zhays itz vunderbah...”

“That is not good!” Kim exclaimed.

“I know,” Ron agreed. “Look at those curtains. They totally clash with his whole ‘Roman Paradise’ theme.”

Kim rolled her eyes at Ron before punching up Wade on the Kimunicator.

“Hey Kim!” the boy genius greeted.

“Wade, are you watching Professor Dementor on this Lairs show?”

“Yeah, can you believe those curtains? Total grossness.”

“That’s what I said,” Ron interrupted as he elbowed Kim.

“Hello, boys? Anyone see a problem with one of our arch foes being treated like a rock star?” Kim said regaining control of the impromptu conference.

“Hmm, well, some people are influenced by what they see on TV. We might have to deal with some copy cats,” Wade pointed out.

“I repeat: those curtains are hideous. Why would anyone want to copy them?” Ron fired back.

“Enough with the curtains,” Kim snapped. “I’m worried that people might try to launch their own take over the world schemes to get on the show.”

“Ah, come on,” Ron argued. “No one would ever...,”

“Let’s go build our own lair!” Jim beamed as he cut off Ron.

“And take over the world just like Professor Dementor!” Tim finished.

“Ahem, tweebs!” Kim said as she locked eyes with her brothers. The two jumped back in fear.

“Kim Possible!” they cried together. “Let’s get outta here!” Jim and Tim were out of the room in an instant as Kim stuck her face in her free hand and rubbed her temples.

“I’ll keep an eye out for any evil upstarts for you, Kim,” Wade said.

Kim managed an annoyed “Please and thank you,” before turning the Kimunicator off.

------------

Blades of grass slowly rustled in the light summer breeze. Wild flowers dotted the hills that rolled around Lake Middleton. Gentle waves lapped the shoreline just below a large blanket spread on the ground. A small pink hairless rodent rummaged through left over wrappers of Bueno Nacho finishing every last speck of cheese, cheese sauce, or cheese-type product.

Paying no attention to rustling next to them, a red headed girl and a blonde haired boy leaned against each other cheek to cheek. Glossy eyes gazed out at the lake and the mountains beyond as they breathed in unison.

Contentment. It was a rare feeling for Kim. So rare, she realized she had never really felt it before. For the girl who ran practically half the clubs and functions at Middleton High with astounding success, who posted almost flawless grades, who had a caring and loving family, who saved countless lives and even the world it was a radically new feeling. A small prick of pain flickered in her mind at the thought the moment ending but the inner Kim raged against it her power forcing it to vanish. Externally, she manifested her need to feel safe and contented again by pushing her body harder against the only thing that could provide it.

Nervous. The home room of Ron’s emotions. It wasn’t a bad thing; far from it. Whether it was slowly losing a another round of Zombie Mayhem to Felix, a Mr. Barkin pop quiz, or a covert free fall into one of Drakken’s lairs, he always took comfort in the fact that if he didn’t feel nervous, something wasn’t right. Given the current state of his nerves, things were well beyond right. Ron found himself somewhere between ignorant bliss and cloud nine as Kim was now pressing herself harder into him than she ever had before in the blossoming new stage of their relationship. And the best part was, there was no longer a wall.

Stepping into the inner spotlight of Ron’s mind, ‘Mission Mode Ron’ took front and center. All right, Stoppable, this is perhaps the greatest moment of your young life. But if you think your girlfriend brought us out here for chow and cuddling, you, are sorely mistaken. You can get away with this sitting next to her parents. She’s waiting for you to make your move. The inner Ron proceeded with a series of mismatched Kung-fu moves before extending a beckoning hand towards the surrounding outer Ron. You got game. Just bring it.

His muscles tightened as he drew a sharp breath. Kim’s eyes flittered open as she noticed the change and instantly feared Ron was breaking the moment. But that fear quickly vanished as she felt a hand reaching around her waist sending goose bumps all over her.

If she wanted to pull away or stop him, she couldn’t. Ron had her paralyzed. She could feel his head began to turn against hers slowly bringing them eye to eye. Kim’s center stage was taken by a very conservative looking Kim in a business suit, glasses, and hair pulled up. Kimberly Ann Possible, this is just a little too much, don’t you... Before the conscientious Kim could finish, she was swarmed by an entire cheer squad of Kims jumping and waving pompoms as the darkness of Kim’s mind morphed into the Middleton High gym. Go! Go, Ro-on! Go! Go! Go, Ro-on! Go! Go, Ro-on! Go! Go! Go, Ro-on! The cheer Kims shouted in formation; conservative Kim huffing on the floor.

Ron read the shock, fear, and sly hopefulness in Kim’s eyes mere inches away. Mission Mode Ron continued with his encouragement. You can do this. Just take it easy. Be smooth. Don’t go too fast. You conquered your fear of monkeys--you can handle being in control with Kim. Okay, you just compared Kim to monkeys... That’s just sick and wrong... Although she did turn into a monkey one time, but... Oh, stop listening to me and KISS HER!

Kim’s chest tightened holding her breath as Ron tilted ever so slightly his lips closing in towards hers. She struggled to not move. She began to wonder what was holding her back before she realized how exhilarating it was to not be in control. And so she waited. Waited for the blonde haired freckled boy, the one she had known since pre-K, the one who always seemed to be there in her time of need, the one who was her best friend, her boyfriend to do what she had never allowed anyone in her life to ever do: take charge.

Slowly but confidently, Ron made his way to Kim’s lips. His nose began to slide past hers as she was still seemingly frozen. He paused; hovering just barely touching against her now quivering lips. He could see her eyes bare full vulneralbilty to him. Accidentally stumbling onto a major Kim-button, Ron held himself back letting her anticipation build to near explosive levels before finally closing the paper thin gulf between them. He felt her weight transfer to his supporting hand wrapped around her and he quickly used his other to keep her upright as she flung her arms around his neck and threw herself into the kiss.

A Kim for every occasion filled stands of the gym in her mind as the cheer Kim’s performed a pulse pounding routine drowning out whatever conservative Kim was trying to yell. The squad began to form the show stopping Middleton Mad Dog pyramid. Cheer Kims leaped onto the shoulders of the other cheer Kims forming smaller and smaller rows until it was time for the lead cheer Kim to take her place at the top. She never got there. Dropping seemingly out of nowhere, the formation was capped by a life-sized beeping Kimunicator. The awkward weight of the device toppled the squad into a groaning pile.

Kim and Ron rubbed their foreheads knowing they were going to have matching bumps. Startled by the Kimunicator’s interruption, they had paid the price for keeping such close quarters when their heads jerked towards it.

------------

Wade sipped his soda, his usual cheerful self, and waited for his friends to pop on screen. He was confronted by two flushed faced highly irritated teen heroes. Remembering that they were at the lake--alone--their scowls made him want to crawl under his desk. He cursed himself for not checking the vitals signs streamed from Ron’s microchip for any ‘telltale’ signs.

“Well...,” Kim fumed impatiently. Wade snapped to realizing that was not the first thing that had been said to him.

“Um, sorry guys,” he croaked. “But it looks like your copy cat fear is already coming true.” With a couple key strokes, a new video flashed on screen.

A chisel faced rock of a man stood in the middle of a lair like setting. A chained cape was shrewdly flung around his neck and his hands were covered in a metallic gloves. His fearsome look was only tempered by his apprehensive style of speaking as if he was reading off of a cue card.

“I am the Duke of Wrath and you will soon bow to me!”

“Capital L-ame!” Ron interjected.

“If you do not obey my wishes, I will choke your precious supply of oil. First, your...” The transmission was cutoff as Wade reappeared on screen.

“I’ll spare you the rest of the message. Standard list of super villain demands, blah, blah, blah,” Wade said. “Bernice will pick you up in a couple hours...”

“Okay,” Kim responded as she calmed down. “But are you sure this guy’s just a lame copycat or is he for real?”

Wade responded with his fingers rather than words. The video of the Duke rewound and a spot over his shoulder blew up. A flashing ring highlighted an ugly yet familiar set of curtains.

“Who knew bad interior decorating went hand in hand with villainy?” Ron asked rhetorically.

“Thanks, Wade,” Kim said as she stored the Kimunicator away. Her annoyance slowly bubbled to the surface. She felt bad, angry, and dissapointed-for Ron. Those emotions coursed through her as well, but it had to be worse for him. He had done it. Ron Stoppable, maligned by the Bonnies and super villains of the world for his unromantic buffoonery, had just made an earth shattering romantic move that had toppled all the emotional barriers of the strongest willed girl on the planet. It was nauseating for his moment of pure triumph to be stolen by a couple of melodic beeps.

Well, better get ready, she thought. Bernice will be here in... Kim paused as she recalled what Wade had said and the tone in which had said it. ...a couple hours...? Lips curled. Eyes seductively narrowed as she realized Wade was making up for his intrusion. Maybe this moment can be stolen back. She turned slightly towards the blonde.

“Where were...,” she started but the last word was pushed back as Ron launched a frontal assault on her lips letting her know that if anyone was going to steal the moment back, it was going to be him. Kim lost herself, her train of thought, and anything else that might have ruined the moment. Ron pulled away from her, but only to let her catch her breath which she wasted no time doing. Her emerald eyes beamed a love enhanced stupor towards him. She had the urge to say something romantic and heartfelt, but her brain, in a near punch-drunk state, could only manage “...we?”

Ron gave the red head a gentle peck on the nose and Kim realized just how hypnotic that move could be before they resumed their previous action.

The cheer Kims had broken into two groups and led the separate sides of the gym in a chant. The first group lifted a large sign and the Kims on their side let out a hearty “Boo!” The second group followed with their sign as the other half of the gym added “-Yah!” As the process repeated itself over and over, the frazzled and angry conservative Kim stomped her foot to the floor.

“You are all a bunch of heathens!” she shouted to not a single listening ear...

------------

The yellow glow of a power core flickered on the walls of the lair. The smell of fresh paint still filled the air as a nervous capped figure paced back and forth. Henchmen seated along the panels cringed at each pass he made hoping they would not be at the end of a brutal tirade. The man passed them all without incident before clutching a piece of railing.

“Why hasn’t the world bowed to my demands yet?” he screamed seizing an unfortunate passing henchman.

“Um, well, I don’t...,” the terrified man cried desperately hoping for some salvation from his employer’s wrath before it miraculously came.

“Oo! Oo! I know! I know!” Ron shouted hand raised in the air as if waiting for a teacher to pick him. The Duke of Wrath turned to find a blonde haired boy in a black turtleneck and cargo pants smiling at him. Dropping the henchmen he was holding, his eyes searched for any memory of hiring such a person.

“Because nobody ever surrenders to a rookie,” Ron stated matter-of-factly as the Duke continued his befuddled stare. “You have to start out small. Conquer a street corner or something and work your way up. You can’t just grande size the naco platter the first time out.”

Rage and contemplation battled for control as the capped bad guy stared at Ron. He has a point... he began to think. ...but...,

“How dare you call me a ‘rookie’, boy!”

“Oh, please, everything about you screams rookie. ‘Duke of Wrath’? Lame. These walls are painted beige. Total ‘evil’ no. You put your henchmen in light blue uniforms,” Ron ranted before leaning forward like he was sharing a secret. “And those curtains didn’t work for Dementor. Why’d you think they’d work for you?”

The Duke was almost completely blinded by his rage. His metal gloves scraped as his fists tightened. His jaw jutted and his teeth were bared.

“You...! You...!” was all he could growl as he continued to stare down the smug faced teenager in front of him.

“Um, sir,” piped a timid looking henchmen from behind. “I have to agree with him.” The evil owner of the lair slowly turned to face his boldly cowering employee.

“What did you say?”

“Um, I think he’s right.”

Ron leaned around and spoke, “About the uniforms or the curtains?”

“Well, both...”

“Silence! You will all pay for your insolence,” the Duke of Wrath’s voice strained almost rattling the walls. He turned to Ron and began to menace towards him. “You will rue the day you mocked me. I am going to destroy you.”

“Dude, you’re not supposed to threaten me,” Ron said as he rolled his eyes.

“And why not?” the Duke grunted.

“Because, ‘A’, that’s gonna get you a lot of pain and ‘B’, I’m just the distraction.”

“Distraction?” responded the baddie as his furrowed brow yielded to mild confusion. “For what?”

Ron pointed over the foe’s shoulder. The Duke turned to trace Ron’s nonverbal answer and quickly found a perfectly placed size 7 boot cracking into his chest and sending him over the railing to the level below. Kim continued her swing from the hairdryer grappling hook over Ron’s head before landing on a henchman who had been sneaking up behind him.

“Thanks, K.P.,” Ron said as she retracted the hook and holstered it.

“My pleasure,” she replied before pecking a kiss on his cheek. Kim sprinted forward into a series of tumbles and flips before landing in a swarm of battle ready henchmen. “So, who here’s new to the whole super villain thing?” she quipped as she began to dodge and counter their clumsy attacks.

Ron blushed a bit with a giggle as he took a trip down a parsley lined memory lane. Rufus’s terrified screech brought him back to reality as he saw two large henchmen flanking him. His head darted back and forth as his feet froze with fear. The two men charged him fists reared back and ready to smash. At the last conceivable fraction of a second, Ron dropped to the floor allowing the two henches to connect fist to fist with bone crunching crack. The two men didn’t have a chance to yelp in pain as a blonde capped flash extended two legs in a lightning quick double kick.

Ron landed with his patented Kung-fu poses even less coordinated than the Mission Mode Ron of his mind. He carried his maneuvers a bit too far allowing a substantially larger henchman to cast his shadow over him. Ron paused as he took in the size of the man who was ready to grab him. Before his fight or flight reflex could make a decision, another light blue clad henchmen collided with the imposing figure in front of Ron and the two bad guys tumbled to the ground. He glanced in the direction of where the human projectile had come from to see Kim had made it through about half of the Duke’s henchmen without breaking a sweat.

Refocused, Ron ran to the stairs and slid down the banister and quickly found himself in front of a control panel. He made a veiled effort to comprehend the buttons he was looking at like he had with virtually every device he had ever encountered in a lair. Nothing came to him as he turned to a shoulder perched Rufus who only gave a shrug. With a casual sigh, Ron coiled and launched a kick into the panel smashing the cheap plastic cover and sending electronic components flickering and flying. The yellow glow of the lair’s power core hummed to and end leaving only the light coming through the small windows near the ceiling. Ron slapped his hands together as if dusting them off before giving Rufus a high five.

“And now for your destruction,” grumbled from the Duke of Wrath as he menaced towards Ron. Taking a tentative step back, Ron began to think of something to say but was stopped by two loud thuds that echoed from the level above as two henchmen collided with the floor on either side of him. Before Ron or the Duke could finish looking up, a bundle of red hair landed gracefully between them. A devilish but playful sneer formed on Kim’s lips as she gave the new villain an icy stare.

“What did Ron say about threatening him?”

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As gigantic red ball flirted with the horizon, the orange ripples of Lake Middleton looked like a rolling sea of fire. A gentle breeze still wafted through the leaves and flowers and carried two figures delicately to the earth below them. Kim made a precision landing guiding her chute to a touchdown on the picnic blanket they had left before the mission.

Ron seemed to have things under control right behind Kim before an extra push on the wind nudged him towards his scooter parked nearby. Panicked yelps shot from his mouth as his legs flailed in a failed attempt to prevent the collision. The blue scooter tilted to the ground as Ron flipped over it bring the cables of his chute into a tangled mess around him.

Kim ducked out of her gear to attempt to help. The figure of a struggling Ron filled the bumps under the parachute’s canvas. Kim felt like she was opening a ‘surprise bag’ bought at some tourist trap on one of their childhood family vacations--she wasn’t quite sure what she was going to find. Slipping under the chute, she could see the web of cables that wound a struggling Ron and scooter together.

“Okay, gimme just a second, K.P.,” he said as he pulled at rope.

“Let me help,” Kim replied as she climbed though the maze and stood next to him.

“I’ve got it...”

“Here, just pull your arm...”

“No, that’s my leg.”

“I meant your other arm, Ron.”

“Wait, I’ve almost got it.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Okay, well pull that cable...”

“That’s not going to help.”

“Yes, it is... Ow! Ow! Ow!”

“Told you.”

“Hold on, maybe if I...”

“No, don’t pull that.”

“It’s cool, Kim.”

“You’re gonna...,”

“Ha! I mean uh-oh.”

“Wait, Ron...,”

“No, it’s okay...”

“Ron, really, wait. Ron!”

With swishing thud of cables, parachute, and bodies, Ron was flat on his stomach tangled as ever. A moderately annoyed but amused Kim not sat just as tangled on his back.

“Remind me to sign you up for a remedial skydiving class,” she jabbed. Kim tried to pull her arm but met heavy resistance as the cables pulled taught and lifted Ron’s leg up. She moved her arm back and forth to verify her control of the appendage.

Rufus popped out of Ron’s pocket expecting dinner to be ready only to find a tangled web holding his friends captive. The naked mole rat squeaked an “Oh, brother,” before giving himself a stretch. Flexing his jaws, he set to shredding the chute and the cables to pieces. Within a minute, they were free of their bonds and Ron set to cleaning up the mess.

Kim watched him set to work framed by the setting sun and raw beauty of the landscape. A loving gaze filled her eyes as she once again found a small thing enchanting her to Ron. She approached him and took his hand leading him to the shoreline.

“It can wait,” she softly said as Ron instantly forgot about the remains of his chute. Settling on a large piece of driftwood for a backstop, Kim seated them on the ground comfortably next to each other.

“Now, where were we?” she asked giving her boyfriend a green light but expecting him to make the opening move. Ron was beginning to like those four little words and was more than ready to pounce but he wasn’t going to get the chance.

Beep-beep. Ba-beep. The little notes that had so many times carried lifesaving joy now brought groans of frustration.

“Duty calls,” Kim said dryly.

------------

“...and once world trembles before my Destructobeam, I, Destructor, will take control of...,”

Beep-beep. Ba-beep. Interrupted the wiry villain’s rant.

“Hang on, a sec,” Kim said to him as she pulled the blue device out; Ron leaned against the wall as if he were waiting for the bus. The villain could not believe that the teen hero had cut him off to answer her phone, but his newness to the world of super villainy made him uncertain of how to proceed.

“Go, Wade.”

“You guys taken care of business yet?”

“Nope, you caught us in mid-rant.”

“Ah, well, as soon as your done there, we’ve got another hit.”

“Oi! I hate fads. Where’s the...”

“Enough of this nonsense!” the wiry villain shouted. “Attack droids..., attack!”

Two metal robots twice the size of Kim screeched to life in the corner of the room. They were big enough to put fear into an average person, but their clunky homemade ‘60’s style robot design brought smirks to the faces of the two teens.

“Wade, could you run a quick tech scan for me?” Kim asked politely.

“Sure,” Wade replied as Kim held the Kimunicator and a green beam made a pass at the lumbering droids. “Looks like you can disable them by pinching the hydraulic line sticking out from behind the neck.”

“Thanks you, Wade.”

“No problem. I’ll have your ride ready in five.”

Kim pocketed the Kimunicator and began to draw her hair into a ponytail pinching the hair just in time to leap away from the first droid’s attack.

“Need me for anything, K.P.?” Ron asked.

“Just keep an eye on ‘Mr. Destructobeam’ and make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid,” Kim replied as she landed on the back of one of the droids.

As Ron circled to corral Destructor, the villain could only watch helplessly. His brain refused to believe his eyes as they saw the red headed cheerleader take apart his attack droids as casually as she would walk down the sidewalk.

------------

Slits of light slashed across Kim’s face as she peered down through the vent. The seismic wave generator stolen by yet another ill-equipped and ill-costumed villain upstart sat below her on a pedestal. She made herself a bit more comfortable in the small confines of the air duct. Ron had split off earlier and she now waited for him to spring his distraction.

Beep-beep. Ba-beep.

She cringed as she knew it was yet another evil amateur that needed to be dealt with. Two days of wall to wall missions had her on the edge.

“Please tell me this has nothing to do some bad guys trying to get his fifteen minutes,” Kim sighed to the tech guru on screen.

“Sorry, Kim, no such luck,” Wade sympathetically replied. “How do you feel about taking trips to Bermuda, Vancouver, and Tulsa?”

“Minus the freak fighting, I wouldn’t mind. Can’t we give some this to Global Justice?”

“Well, actually, they’re swamped. These are all their overflow.”

“Great, guess we’ll just have to deal.”

The transmission broke off and Kim was left sulk. She rested her head and her eyes closed. A vision of a certain blonde haired boy in a blue tuxedo filled her mind. He wore a soft smile that she returned. His hand wrapped delicately around her back as the two began to lean closer eyes closing. But just before they reached each other, he spoke.

“What do you mean you don’t have a snack machine?”

Kim’s eyes popped open quizingly as she realized that was not what had happened.

“I mean, you build this place in the middle of nowhere and don’t stop to think that you could get hungry?” Ron’s voice echoed into the vent.

Realizing that it was game time, Kim shook herself off and reached for her grappling hook. Kicking the vent open, she took aim and fired.

------------

Moonlight fell softly through the windows of the tropical conservatory. The stone pathway was lined with ferns and rare flowers beneath the canopy of the jungle trees. Ron walked just behind Kim working out a knot in her shoulder.

“Mmm, little to the left,” she purred. Ron’s fingers complied before a rustle in the trees grabbed their attention.

“Stay sharp,” Kim ordered as they took complimentary battle postures. Their eyes scanned the darkness above as each caught glimpses of movement. With a resounding crack, the lights sparked on and the two teen heroes were confronted by...

The past few days had been a whirlwind tour of the world guided by men and women clad in everything from well chosen outfits to freakishly homemade costumes. All were worn by people who had as much business making toast as they did ruling the world. But the overweight gentleman in a stretched beyond capacity red chimpanzee costume now standing in the pathway before them was too much for Kim and Ron. Whether it was the fatigue from nonstop missions or the pure absurdity they now faced, the two were seized by an uncontrollable fit of laughter. Even Rufus rolled on the ground clutching his gut.

The man fumed as his cheeks began to match the color of his outfit. Ron seemed to compose himself first grabbing a pen and piece of paper from his pocket.

“Okay, give us your name, evil catch phrase, and plot for world domination,” Ron chuckled. The monkey-suited man clinched his fists and asserted himself as Kim finally wound down her laughter.

“I am the Crimson Chimpanzee and you...!” he started before being drowned out by another round of laughter. He growled in anger as he watched Kim and Ron fell against each other for support. The second round dying down, Kim wiped a tear from her eye.

“Thanks, we needed that,” she started before tossing the Kimunicator to a surprised Ron. “He’s all yours. Show him what mystical monkey powers can do. I’ll be outside if you need me.”

Kim turned and made her way up the path to the door surpressing aftershocks of laughs leaving the two alone.

“Did she say ‘mystical monkey power’?” the chimp/man asked frightened.

“Yep,” Ron replied with a sheepish grin and a monkey kung-fu pose.

“Then that means you’re..., you’re...,”

“That’s right...”

“Lord Monkey Fist!” the Crimson Chimpanzee cried as he threw himself to his knees before Ron. “My apologies! I didn’t know you had turned to good.”

“But I’m not...,”

“And that you were so young.”

“Um, dude, I think...”

“Ever since I heard of your acquisition of mystical monkey power, I have strived to be like you; to gain your favor! I surrender to you! I am your humble servant!”

Ron sighed his face locked in a scowl. The man sobbed with his arm flung around Ron’s leg.

“I’m still counting this as a win,” Ron grumbled.

-----------

The warm summer afternoon found Mr. Dr. Possible checking a list and examining soccer equipment on his front lawn as he moved the items into the family van. He barely flinched at the roar of a massive turbo jet that circled the house before coming to a rest in the street. The stair case lowered to the ground and Kim and Ron disembarked with a halfhearted wave. They had intended to make their way inside, but the grass became a satisfactory spot for their exhausted frames to crash.

Kim’s father moved to survey the two lumps that had deposited themselves on his lawn. Bags under their eyes indicated how little sleep they gotten and frazzled strands of hair showed how little personal time they had managed.

“Hey, I remember you,” Mr. Dr. Possible started. “Aren’t you my daughter?”

“Ha, ha,” Kim dryly replied.

“Bad guy knock offs got you two on the defensive, huh?”

“I think a couple of them were girls,” Ron moaned.

“They just keep coming and coming,” Kim added. “I feel like a goalie trying to fend off an entire team by myself.”

Dr. Possible thought a moment as he consulted his years of life experience.

“You know Kimmie, growing up, your uncle and I were always pretty adept at playing sports,” he said as his daughter gave him a quizzical look. “But we never seemed to grasp the concept of defense...”

Kim sat up as she began to see the point her father was making.

“...Possibles never play defense. We play offense,” he finished with zeal and a pumped fist. Kim was on her feet in a flash arms around her father.

“Thanks, daddy, I needed to hear that,” Kim said affectionately.

“No problem, Kimmie-cub,” her dad replied as they released their embrace. “Go get ‘em. Now, I wonder where your brothers are?”

“Dad, have you lost track of all your children?” Kim asked.

“Well, for the most part...”

------------

The windows of the expansive office offered a faint view of a smog covered Hollywood Sign. The rest of the round room was filled with pictures, platinum and gold records, and various other memorabilia. Kim found herself leaning against a chair in the middle casually looking at her surroundings. What it took to impress her had grown quite grand over the years; an office like this was just part of another average outing.

Ron on the other hand had yet to loose his amazement at anything that related to fame. He dashed from picture to award to picture with the customary “Oohs” and “Aaaahs” of an enchanted pop culture fan. One picture in particular grabbed his full attention.

“K.P., look!” he shouted bringing the red head to his side. “This is us at that M.C. Honey concert after you saved everyone there from Drakken’s Hypnophier!”

“I see me, Ron, but where are you?”

“That’s me in the corner.”

Kim parked her nose on the picture and squinted before straightening up.

“Um, that’s a guitar smashed into an amplifier.”

Ron’s excitement shifted to a squint before turning to disappointment.

“Oh, right.”

The double doors burst open and a slick dressed gold chained man entered followed by a gaggle of assistants.

“Mr. Simmons, you’re 12:15 has just moved to 12:20 and your manicurist wants to know how you feel about Tuesday.”

“Mr. Simmons, the producer of Hot Videos Today called to say their guest just canceled and wants to know what to do?”

“Mr. Simmons, your wife wants to know: chicken or beef?”

“Kim Possible,” the executive said as if no one had been talking to him. The pack continued to talk amongst themselves or into their constantly ringing phones. “So happy to see you again after you saved our live video awards show last year.”

“It was no big. Anyone could have climbed up the transmitter and moved that bird’s next to safety.”

“What do we owe the pleasure of your visit?”

“Well, its about your Lairs show...”

“Ah, it’s our number one program. Nice to see that such an expert is also a big fan!”

“Um, actually, we were hoping that you’d pull the plug.”

The crowd of assistants lodged in the door gasped before coming to a hush. Even their cell phones ceased making noise. Mr. Simmons fidgeted with his collar taken back at Kim’s request.

“Pull the plug?” he asked in shock. “But why?”

“Because for the last week, we’ve visited every continent trying to stop copycat ‘fans’ of the show trying to get on.”

“Oh, please, they can’t seriously be a threat, can they?”

“No, but someone still has to stop them from hurting themselves,” Kim said in a more stern tone trying to get her point across.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can do anything for you,” the executive said almost sympathetically. “The sponsors would freak.”

Kim blew a straying strand of hair out of her eyes and began to form a response but before she could speak, the Kimunicator beeped. Kim gave Mr. Simmon’s an ‘I-told-you-so’ glare before answering.

“What’s the ‘amateur that needs to be saved from their own self’ sitch, Wade?”

“Actually, this doesn’t look like any amateur,” he replied seriously. “I’m reading some massive power levels at a lair near Middleton. Looks bad.”

“We’re on it,” Kim sighed with no hope of relief in site.

------------

Another lair; another ventilation duct. Kim and Ron crawled through the tight quarters of the duct of the old warehouse. Reaching the access panel they had been searching for, Kim lead them out onto the catwalk above the main floor.

Kim analyzed the large almost empty space. A few open boxes, tools, and fast food wrappers littered the floor. The only things that seemed out were two medium sized rockets. Open slits along their sides allowed their blue pulse energy cores to glow freely.

“Looks like someone’s actually going to keep it simple,” Ron quipped.

“Yeah, advanced rocketry is sooo easy, Ron,” Kim poked back just as the rusty metal doors opened below. Kim couldn’t make out what was traveling through the dark shadows of the warehouse, but as her eyes adjusted, three familiar things came into focus.

The first was a young brown eyed boy half her size. The second was the flowing mass of an disgusting set of curtains. The third was an identical copy of the first.

“These are going to look great on camera,” Jim said.

“Yeah, especially after we...,” Tim started.

“TWEEEEEEEEEEBS!” Kim shrieked.

The two boys dropped their payload and turned ghastly white in fear at the sight of their enraged older sister. Despite sharing the same house for ten years and constantly bringing her to a boil, they twins had never seen anything like the snarling red head that now loomed above them.

Ron had. And he hadn’t blamed himself for bringing it on. He chalked up the previous occasion to Kim’s moodulated emotions. However, seeing the unmoodulated version, he was having his doubts about that particular theory. Ron quickly swore to avoid doing anything that might wake this beast while thankful that this time it wasn’t him.

------------

“I can’t believe you two would try something like this,” Mrs. Dr. Possible fumed as she paced in front of her sons.

“Your thrust vectors were completely wrong for the fuel cells you choose,” Mr. Dr. Possible scolded before realizing they were not being punished bad rocket science. “And we’re very disappointed you would try to take over the world. After all, Kimmmie’s job is to stop crazy people from doing that.”

Satisfied they were receiving the full treatment, Kim left her spot in the corner of the kitchen and headed to the living room. Excited to join Ron on the couch in a rare spell of downtime, she had to look twice to confirm what show he was watching.

“And this is the underground grotto. We keep an assortment of fast getaway vehicles for when an evil plan goes awry...”

“After nothing but freak fighting for a week, you’re watching the Seniors on Lairs,” Kim said dryly.

“Research, for you know, the next time we’re there,” Ron retorted.

“Sure you’re not just watching to see if you get mentioned?”

“No, that would be so... Oh! Come on! Those missiles were totally my idea! I thought Senior Senior, Sr. had more class than that.”

Kim gave him an annoyed look as she took the remote from Ron to change the channel but paused as the host began to speak.

“A’ight, people. That’s all we got for today, but be sure to check us tomorrow for a Lairs exclusive when we slam it live concert style from Motor Ed’s in Jersey, yo.”

Kim’s eyes hinted her brain going into thought. As she began to piece together a plan, a small smile curled her lips. Ron tried to figure out what Kim was thinking, but was certain it had to do with the Motor Ed concert.

“I’m sorry, but did something wildly convenient just happen for us?” he asked timidly.

“Ron, I hope you’re ready for live TV”

“Not, if they spell my name wrong, again. Stupid American Starmaker...”

------------

“Seriously, I wouldn’t consider myself one of those world conquest types,” a blonde mulleted man said as he walked through an expansive garage. “I just want to build sick machines for some mayhem and shredding.”

“Don’t we all bro’,” the Lairs host said to a beaming Motor Ed. “Okay, we gotta run, but when we get back, it’s to time slam it with Ed and his band.”

The red lights on the cameras flashed off as the show’s host and Motor Ed walked towards the exit. The swarming production crew followed. In the mix, a production assistant with a clip board made certain that her ball cap kept her red hair firmly concealed. She scribbled some nonsense on the page in front of her to make herself look busy as her green eyes kept an eye Motor Ed.

------------

The crowd pulsed and surged to the wailing of the guitars and the bangs of the drums in an open clearing of the junkyard. On the stage, Motor Ed’s fingers attacked the strings of his electric guitar mercilessly as his band began to reach the finale of their song. Giving a jump slide off an amplifier, the Jersey-bred mechanical baddie ended the song with a pose on his knees. The crowd went into larger frolic as Motor Ed came to his feet and took the microphone.

“Thank you, seriously! You guys rule!” he shouted but before the crowd could continue its ovation, they were brought to a simultaneous gasp as Motor Ed was knocked down from behind. Picking himself back up, Ed turned to see where the blind side shot had come from as Kim landed next to him.

“You know, Motor Ed, I have to admit,” Kim said slyly. “That kinda rocked, but now, it’s time for you to roll.”

“Seriously, what’s your harsh, Red?” Motor Ed fired back. “I haven’t committed any crimes... recently.”

“Against society, maybe not. But against fashion, definitely.”

“Oh, you better not have just knocked the mullet. Boys! Show Red here what we do to gate crashers the don’t pay the cover!”

The band members instruments were quickly replaced by crowbars and chains as they circled a posturing Kim. The street brawlers had little chance as each attacked without thinking allowing Kim to make short work of the crew. Forced into action as his lackeys/band were tossed off the stage or smashed into amplifiers, Motor Ed charged Kim wielding his guitar like a battle ax. Kim ducked and weaved at each exaggerated swing before Ed finally smashed the guitar into the ground. A quick spin kick sent him into the drums with a terrific crash. Motor Ed was dazed and confused as Kim pulled him out of the tangled pile and tied him up in the middle of the stage.

“Ron, are you ready?” Kim called as she grabbed the microphone.

“Need to borrow this, dude,” Ron said as he snatched a camera from the operator next to the stage. He quickly joined Kim and framed her up for a close-up.

“Go, K.P.”

“Hi, in case you didn’t know who I am, I’m Kim Possible. Tonight’s little demonstration was for all those out there who think building a lair and trying to take over the world is a spanking idea, guess again...,” Kim spoke with a firm tone.

“Okay, that was great, Kim, but can we try that again with a little more anger,” Ron instructed. Kim huffed a bit before responding.

“Ron, this is live TV There is no ‘try that again’.”

“Oh, great! Why didn’t you mention that before?”

“I did mention that be... nevermind. Anyway, the take over the world thing? So yesterday’s clearance rack. But if you’re still not convinced, I’m sure we can arrange for you to think about it in a nice comfy prison cell...”

------------

The flickering light of a television provided the only light on the mildew stained walls of the lair. Sitting in near darkness on the sofa, a blue faced man scowled as he watched the TV. His arms were folded as he clutched the remote with a death grip.

“Why didn’t anybody tell me that when I turned evil?” Dr. Drakken growled.

------------

“I’m sure we can arrange for you to think about it in a nice comfy prison cell...”

Mr. Simmons watched Kim’s rant before he flipped the screen off with a furrowed brow. His assistants quietly talked amongst themselves before one became brave enough to speak to him.

“Um, Mr. Simmons, ratings for Lairs are at an all time low and most of the sponsors have pulled out.”

“Hmm, going to have to find something to replace it. Ideas?”

“How about a show with celebrities pranking other celebrities?”

“A reality series where college students are forced to live in a nursing home?”

“Retired athletes trading places with house wives?”

“No, no, and no,” Mr. Simmons said cutting the brainstorming off. “We need something real, but with edge.” Silence followed as all tried to find that special spark.

“Kim Possible rated positively from our post show research,” one assistant finally pepped up.

“How positive?”

------------

Another beautiful summer day was coming to a close as two teenagers on a blue scooter approached a familiar spot on the shore of Lake Middleton. Coming to a stop, Kim and Ron swung themselves off and tossed their helmets on the handle bars. Hand-in-hand, they walked towards the shoreline.

“Guess all the super villain wannabes got the message,” Ron beamed.

“Wade said we haven’t gotten a hit to the site all day,” Kim replied with relief in her voice.

“Sure is nice to get back to relaxation and marination.”

“Agree with you there,” Kim said as she came to a stop and faced Ron. “Now I seem to remember me and you standing somewhere like this, but don’t recall exactly what we where doing.”

“Hmm, was I leaning towards you like this?” Ron asked as he closed the gap between himself and Kim.

“I think so, but maybe I was a bit closer...” Kim said as she moved to match her words and closed her eyes.

“And were we...,” Ron started to say as he had almost made it to Kim’s lips. His narrowing eyes fluttered open as they noticed something quite out of place. “...being followed and recorded by a TV crew?”

Kim’s eyes jerked opened and she spun around to confront what Ron had been talking about. Cameras poked from several different bushes and trees. A smallish looking man in a black hat and sporting and eyepiece around his neck stepped forward.

“Sorry to surprise you. Don’t mind us, you won’t even know we’re hear after awhile,” he said in a soothing hushed voice.

Shock, confusion, and anger tensed every muscle in Kim’s neck as she tried to figure out exactly what was going on. Ron remained just confused but somewhat impressed by the amount of attention they were receiving.

“Who are you and what is this all about?” Kim spat out. The man before them seemed ready for this response as he began to explain.

“I’m the director of a new show called Teen Heroes: Behind the Action, and you two our pilot episode! What do you think about that?”

Kim didn’t know what to think other than a desire to rage against this invasion of their privacy. But before she could unleash another tirade on camera, Ron spoke.

“Okay, before we go any farther,” he said seriously. “Let’s get one thing straight...

Neither Kim nor the director could figure out where Ron was going on this tangent, but he didn’t keep them waiting long.

“The name is Ron Stoppable. R-O-N S-T-O-P-P-A-B-L-E.”

Kim was left shaking her head. Her arms were crossed in resignation that normal for her, was anything but normal. Her offensive against the world of amateur villainy had succeeded brilliantly as she had got the attention she had wanted--maybe a little too much attention. I hate unintended consequences, Kim fumed as she watched Ron supervise the director writing his name down one careful letter at a time.

------------