Post by RaceFanX on Nov 26, 2010 2:30:19 GMT -5
Ladies and Gentledogs...START YOUR ENGINES! It's time to throw on your helmet and fasten your four-point harness because it's time to cut to the chase. Hold on, the fate of humanity rests on stopping Epsilon and his crew's car...by any means neccessary...
A typical street corner in London. On one side of the street was a Burger King with a small shop selling London souvenirs on the other. It was a slow day. The lights changed from red to green...AND then the silence was shattered as a black Porsche 911 Turbo with tinted windows pulled into the oncoming lane to shoot past the traffic.
Nearly hitting a man in the crosswalk, the black sportscar shot through the intersection pushing 70 MPH. A speed limit sign on the other side cleared showed the limit was 30. Within seconds of the maniac in the Porsche a bright yellow Chevrolet Camaro and police Subaru Impreza with its lights flashing pulled similar moves.
None of these cars had human drivers, at the wheel of all three speeding vehicles were teams of puppy dogs. In the Porsche was Epsilon and his crew, heck bent on meeting up with Sigma and launching their attack on the England-Germany "friendly" football match at the stadium. In the Camaro was Lucky and his crew just as heck bent on stopping them. In the "Scooby," street slang for the Subaru, was another team of dalmatians headed up by Doc with Sparky on the wheel and Slayer pushing the pedal all the way to metal.
"Eh Epsilon," said Iota standing on the dashboard of the 911. "We got company," she added motioning to the two cars behind them.
"No doubt those meddling dalmatians," said a ticked Epsilon. "Those spotty jerks are harded to get rid of than H.I.V."
"You want me to lose them," said Zeta as he yanked the wheel on the slick black sportscar.
"No, stick to our route," said Epsilon pointing at the car's caliberated GPS system. "Omega give this thing all it's got. No way those mutts will keep up once we hit the motorway."
"What ever it takes we've got to stop that Porsche," said Lucky as he steered the Camaro to avoid running into the back of a slow moving red Alfa Romeo MiTo. "Keep that pedal all the way down Rolly!"
"Got it Luck," replied the chubby pup, throwing all his weight against the accelerator."
"Stop light ahead just went red!," shouted Spot standing on the dash spotting as she had when they chased those crocks with a red pickup in Grutley.
"We gotta run it," said Lucky. "We can't let them get away."
All three cars shot toward the redlight now approaching 80 MPH. Even with the Impreza's siren blaring the first car to see a green light, a teal G-Whiz electric city car, started to drive through the intersection. The Porsche and the gaining Camaro split the little eco-car...the Impreza wasn't so lucky and nailed the right front of G-Whiz. The pups inside was thrown slightly forward but the Impreza was incredibly able to continue, albeit adding a 360 degree spin for style, as the G-Whiz shredded to pieces in the impact. In the pile of parts that seconds earlier were his car the completely uninjured G-Whiz driver sat stunned holding what remained of his steering wheel.
"Good thing I wore my seat belt," said the driver.
"Holy sh*t," said Sparky. "As everybody okay?"
"We're fine," said Clayton amongst the passengers.
"Shaken but not stirred," said Owle.
"Keep your mind off that wreck and focus on catching Epsilon," said Doc. "If he launches his attack heaven knows how many people at that game could get hurt."
What none of the pups knew was that while they were unhurt the Impreza wasn't. The left front wheel had been damaged in the impact and was in the beginning phases of coming apart. Meanwhile in the backseat Patriot noticed a small plastic bag labeled evidence. Oddly curious he opened it and removed the contents...shocked to find a chrome-plated Walther P99 handgun and a manuel for it.
Choas wasn't just on the roads. In a police station alarms were sounding as London's finest sprang into action.
"Attention all units, attention all units," came the voice of the female radio operator. "We have a Cobra 11 in progress. Repeat, this is an Alarm for Cobra 11 scenario. Multiple suspects, vehicles involved are black Porsche 9-1-1, yellow American muscle car and stolen police pursuit vehicle."
"Typical Roozer," said one constable. "Only he would manage to get the pursuit special nicked."
"What bonehead give that fool the pursuit car," said their leader, a rather old school Detective Chief Inspector with a name badge reading Dean Bunt.
"I did sir," said another constable. "He was on fast response call earlier to confiscate an illegal handgun."
"Where's the gun?," replied Bunt.
"Still in the car," said the constable timidly. "hehehe"
"Oh for the love of pete, those bastards are now possibly armed!" Bunt was ticked. "That's it, we're going out there and stopping this B-S now."
"Protocal says we have a set of 13 health and safety criteria we need approval for before we can pursue the..."
"Screw protocal," said Bunt angerily. "Fire up the Astras! Get London 1 up! Let's move it people! We've got an international football match going on and I'll be d**ned if some blokes are going to **** up my town during it!"
Within about two minutes three police Vauxhall Astras, the lead car with DCI Bunt at the wheel, and a police Volvo C70 station wagon came roaring out of station's underground garage with a course to intercept the chase. On the roof their helicopter London 1, a Eurocopter EC145, fired up and took off.
At game things were just as fast paced as an English player got a breakaway. The German defender in pursuit couldn't catch him and with a swish kick the English player launched the ball toward the goal which he nipped by the German goalie. The stadium erupted in cheers, including some from the Dearlys, as England took the lead 1-0. Union Jacks and English flags waved in triumph but it was still just the first half.
In the royal box Queen Elizabeth II and Prince Charles both applauded their boys taking the lead before sitting down. As play resumed she asked an odd question of her son.
"Charles, be a good boy and get me a beer from the concession stand will you," said the Queen. "I don't really care what brand."
"What?," replied the heir to the throne confused. "We've got like ten servants here for that. Why are you asking me? Plus I thought you prefered Gin and Dubonnet?"
"This is a football match and at a football match in this country people usually drink beer," replied the Queen. "One sounds oddly good right now. And I don't need the servants to do it because I'm a mother who brought her able-bodied son to the game...besides none of the servants are kicking around given their mother's title to Camila."
"Leave my wife out of this thank you," replied the Prince annoyed.
"I will if you get the beverage," she replied.
"Alright I'll get it," replied Charles, it was kind of hard to argue with the designated monarch of no less than 15 countires. "Sheesh."
As he stood up to get it the Prince's iPod slid out his pocket and clicked on playing a quick snipe of "Purple Rain" before he managed to shut it off. He left the iPod sitting face up in his chair and went to get the drink.
Back on the steets, Omega hopped off the gas and onto the brakes at the same instance Epsilon himself grabbed the Porsche's handbrake. The black turbo 911 went into a leftward drift and as the wolfhound hopped back on the gas the car sped down the enterance ramp to a highway, or motorway as the Brits call them, positioned next to an overpass over the busy road.
With a yank of the Camaro's handbrake by Roxy and Patch the 2010 Transformers-edition yellow musclecar made the same move before roaring down the ramp.
The Camaro cut off a British Racing Green Jaguar XJ that was also attempting a turn on the ramp causing the Jag to spin out and creating an obstacle for the Impreza.
"Oh boy," said Sparky. "Hang on for this one."
Sparky aimed the police car for the guardrail on the overpass and busted the Rice Burner right through it. The Subaru dropped onto the road below, remaining in the chase but not until after a hard impact. While the car's flashing blue lights still worked the impact silenced its siren and noticably damaged the car's front bumper. It also didn't do any good for the damaged left front wheel which was starting to get closer and closer to coming apart. In the backseat Patriot was trying to read the manuel for the gun.
"I really wish Desert Eagle still hung out with us right now," said Patriot trying to figure out how to use the weapon without killing himself or any of the other non-Skayninians. He'd never used a gun before, didn't even know if bullets would actually hurt those alien mutts, but against a threat this big he'd break any rule he had to stop it...
Due to circumstances beyond my control an accident has caused me to lose most of progress on this fic beyond this part. I still know how it goes and you will still eventually get it but not tonight because of the late hour I write at. I'm sorry to cut the chase short for now but there's more metal-cruching action coming. Still I hope you enjoyed this part.
A typical street corner in London. On one side of the street was a Burger King with a small shop selling London souvenirs on the other. It was a slow day. The lights changed from red to green...AND then the silence was shattered as a black Porsche 911 Turbo with tinted windows pulled into the oncoming lane to shoot past the traffic.
Nearly hitting a man in the crosswalk, the black sportscar shot through the intersection pushing 70 MPH. A speed limit sign on the other side cleared showed the limit was 30. Within seconds of the maniac in the Porsche a bright yellow Chevrolet Camaro and police Subaru Impreza with its lights flashing pulled similar moves.
None of these cars had human drivers, at the wheel of all three speeding vehicles were teams of puppy dogs. In the Porsche was Epsilon and his crew, heck bent on meeting up with Sigma and launching their attack on the England-Germany "friendly" football match at the stadium. In the Camaro was Lucky and his crew just as heck bent on stopping them. In the "Scooby," street slang for the Subaru, was another team of dalmatians headed up by Doc with Sparky on the wheel and Slayer pushing the pedal all the way to metal.
"Eh Epsilon," said Iota standing on the dashboard of the 911. "We got company," she added motioning to the two cars behind them.
"No doubt those meddling dalmatians," said a ticked Epsilon. "Those spotty jerks are harded to get rid of than H.I.V."
"You want me to lose them," said Zeta as he yanked the wheel on the slick black sportscar.
"No, stick to our route," said Epsilon pointing at the car's caliberated GPS system. "Omega give this thing all it's got. No way those mutts will keep up once we hit the motorway."
"What ever it takes we've got to stop that Porsche," said Lucky as he steered the Camaro to avoid running into the back of a slow moving red Alfa Romeo MiTo. "Keep that pedal all the way down Rolly!"
"Got it Luck," replied the chubby pup, throwing all his weight against the accelerator."
"Stop light ahead just went red!," shouted Spot standing on the dash spotting as she had when they chased those crocks with a red pickup in Grutley.
"We gotta run it," said Lucky. "We can't let them get away."
All three cars shot toward the redlight now approaching 80 MPH. Even with the Impreza's siren blaring the first car to see a green light, a teal G-Whiz electric city car, started to drive through the intersection. The Porsche and the gaining Camaro split the little eco-car...the Impreza wasn't so lucky and nailed the right front of G-Whiz. The pups inside was thrown slightly forward but the Impreza was incredibly able to continue, albeit adding a 360 degree spin for style, as the G-Whiz shredded to pieces in the impact. In the pile of parts that seconds earlier were his car the completely uninjured G-Whiz driver sat stunned holding what remained of his steering wheel.
"Good thing I wore my seat belt," said the driver.
"Holy sh*t," said Sparky. "As everybody okay?"
"We're fine," said Clayton amongst the passengers.
"Shaken but not stirred," said Owle.
"Keep your mind off that wreck and focus on catching Epsilon," said Doc. "If he launches his attack heaven knows how many people at that game could get hurt."
What none of the pups knew was that while they were unhurt the Impreza wasn't. The left front wheel had been damaged in the impact and was in the beginning phases of coming apart. Meanwhile in the backseat Patriot noticed a small plastic bag labeled evidence. Oddly curious he opened it and removed the contents...shocked to find a chrome-plated Walther P99 handgun and a manuel for it.
Choas wasn't just on the roads. In a police station alarms were sounding as London's finest sprang into action.
"Attention all units, attention all units," came the voice of the female radio operator. "We have a Cobra 11 in progress. Repeat, this is an Alarm for Cobra 11 scenario. Multiple suspects, vehicles involved are black Porsche 9-1-1, yellow American muscle car and stolen police pursuit vehicle."
"Typical Roozer," said one constable. "Only he would manage to get the pursuit special nicked."
"What bonehead give that fool the pursuit car," said their leader, a rather old school Detective Chief Inspector with a name badge reading Dean Bunt.
"I did sir," said another constable. "He was on fast response call earlier to confiscate an illegal handgun."
"Where's the gun?," replied Bunt.
"Still in the car," said the constable timidly. "hehehe"
"Oh for the love of pete, those bastards are now possibly armed!" Bunt was ticked. "That's it, we're going out there and stopping this B-S now."
"Protocal says we have a set of 13 health and safety criteria we need approval for before we can pursue the..."
"Screw protocal," said Bunt angerily. "Fire up the Astras! Get London 1 up! Let's move it people! We've got an international football match going on and I'll be d**ned if some blokes are going to **** up my town during it!"
Within about two minutes three police Vauxhall Astras, the lead car with DCI Bunt at the wheel, and a police Volvo C70 station wagon came roaring out of station's underground garage with a course to intercept the chase. On the roof their helicopter London 1, a Eurocopter EC145, fired up and took off.
At game things were just as fast paced as an English player got a breakaway. The German defender in pursuit couldn't catch him and with a swish kick the English player launched the ball toward the goal which he nipped by the German goalie. The stadium erupted in cheers, including some from the Dearlys, as England took the lead 1-0. Union Jacks and English flags waved in triumph but it was still just the first half.
In the royal box Queen Elizabeth II and Prince Charles both applauded their boys taking the lead before sitting down. As play resumed she asked an odd question of her son.
"Charles, be a good boy and get me a beer from the concession stand will you," said the Queen. "I don't really care what brand."
"What?," replied the heir to the throne confused. "We've got like ten servants here for that. Why are you asking me? Plus I thought you prefered Gin and Dubonnet?"
"This is a football match and at a football match in this country people usually drink beer," replied the Queen. "One sounds oddly good right now. And I don't need the servants to do it because I'm a mother who brought her able-bodied son to the game...besides none of the servants are kicking around given their mother's title to Camila."
"Leave my wife out of this thank you," replied the Prince annoyed.
"I will if you get the beverage," she replied.
"Alright I'll get it," replied Charles, it was kind of hard to argue with the designated monarch of no less than 15 countires. "Sheesh."
As he stood up to get it the Prince's iPod slid out his pocket and clicked on playing a quick snipe of "Purple Rain" before he managed to shut it off. He left the iPod sitting face up in his chair and went to get the drink.
Back on the steets, Omega hopped off the gas and onto the brakes at the same instance Epsilon himself grabbed the Porsche's handbrake. The black turbo 911 went into a leftward drift and as the wolfhound hopped back on the gas the car sped down the enterance ramp to a highway, or motorway as the Brits call them, positioned next to an overpass over the busy road.
With a yank of the Camaro's handbrake by Roxy and Patch the 2010 Transformers-edition yellow musclecar made the same move before roaring down the ramp.
The Camaro cut off a British Racing Green Jaguar XJ that was also attempting a turn on the ramp causing the Jag to spin out and creating an obstacle for the Impreza.
"Oh boy," said Sparky. "Hang on for this one."
Sparky aimed the police car for the guardrail on the overpass and busted the Rice Burner right through it. The Subaru dropped onto the road below, remaining in the chase but not until after a hard impact. While the car's flashing blue lights still worked the impact silenced its siren and noticably damaged the car's front bumper. It also didn't do any good for the damaged left front wheel which was starting to get closer and closer to coming apart. In the backseat Patriot was trying to read the manuel for the gun.
"I really wish Desert Eagle still hung out with us right now," said Patriot trying to figure out how to use the weapon without killing himself or any of the other non-Skayninians. He'd never used a gun before, didn't even know if bullets would actually hurt those alien mutts, but against a threat this big he'd break any rule he had to stop it...
Due to circumstances beyond my control an accident has caused me to lose most of progress on this fic beyond this part. I still know how it goes and you will still eventually get it but not tonight because of the late hour I write at. I'm sorry to cut the chase short for now but there's more metal-cruching action coming. Still I hope you enjoyed this part.