Post by RaceFanX on Mar 29, 2009 0:49:28 GMT -5
We contuine to build toward the climax
"Alright, everybody strapped in? Okay! And now for the most famous words in all of motorsports...Gentledog, Start Your Engine!"
The 640 Cubic Inch Ford engine roars to life. The ground is literally shaking. Then it emerges...
A giant blue 1988 Ford F-150 Monster Truck races out of the garage! The truck is ten feet tall and riding on 66 inch tall tires! On the doors is painted the words "Canine Crusher" in stacked white letters with a paw print painted between the words. The truck plows into the parted out Pontiac 6000 in the driveway and crushes it flat instantly, catching a little air as it does, and races off to catch up to Epsilon.
The truck darts down the driveway of the garage, the chrome of its rollbar located directly behind the cab and the toolbox welded in place under it shine in the Saturday sun. The pups are strapped into benches located on either side of the truck's bed. Inside the cabin, Patriot has indeed had it gutted. There's no dash, no radio, no AC just a few gauges and a good view over the hood at the blower's protruding thru it. Two seats, heavily raised from the normal position so they can see, sit in an interior more like a NASCAR racer than a standard pickup truck's. Patriot made a custom steering wheel better sized for him. On the back of the truck above the normal Ford tailgate markings he has painted a smashed Chevrolet logo with the words "The Heartbeat of America STOPS HERE!" above it.
Patriot has his right paw on the steering wheel and his left on a toggle switch mounted on the top of the truck's driver's door. He yanks the wheel and flips the toggle, all four wheels on the truck turn in unison as he enters a regular road. The Mexican driver of a blue Renault car with a vanity plate reading "Johny" swerves out of the way as the monster races up the road.
"The toggle switch controls the hydraulics for the rear steering, if ya build a monster truck you need rear steering!," said Patriot proudly.
"That's nice, I guess! Why is the engine so loud?!" asked Doc, both pups having the yell to hear each other over the engine's roar.
"No muffler, would hurt horsepower!" replied Patriot.
"Dare I ask what the milage is?!" asked Doc.
"It doesn't matter, it doesn't run on gas. I needed something with more kick, specifically blown-injected alcohol!" replied the red, white and blue pup.
"Alcohol? Where'd you get..." Doc suddenly remembered something from earilier. "The moonshine? This thing runs on moonshine!"
"You got it. Remove the sugar and that stuff is basically Ethanol, although the stuff I made has a bit more than 85 octane. Don't try and drink it!" replied Patriot.
"How fast will this thing go?!" asked Doc. Patriot mashed the gas pedal to the floor.
" 'Bout 55 miles per hour, maybe 60-70 going downhill with a good wind pushing. The tires will take about 80 but we're too heavy because of the steel truck body," replied Patriot. Doc had a concerned look on his face.
"If the truck isn't fast enough to get a highway speeding ticket, how the heck or we going to catch up to Epsilon?!" asked Doc.
"We won't, not on the roads. But we got an advantage he doesn't, extreme off-road capability. I'm going to turn off at the old Troughton place and cut across the farmer's fields. There not even planted yet so they should be no sweat. We can go as the crow flies in this thing. He may beat us there but we won't be far behind!," replied Patriot, confident in his machine's ability.
"The Troughton place? I ran thru there on my way back to the farm. U is there testing gadgets. Can we stop briefly, I've got to pickup my Sonic Screwdriver from him!" said Doc.
"You're what? Is that anything like a oil filter wrench?" asked Patriot.
"I'll explain it to you later," said Doc. "But if he got it working, it could be vital," he added.
"Alright. But make it quicker than Joe Nemechek on pole day!," said Patriot. Doc had no idea what that meant but he would be dang fast.
The truck reached the turnoff and turned off the road into an unplanted dirt field. With a blast of the accelerator by Patriot, the Canine Crusher raced across it, flinging dirt behind it.
For Epsilon, the trip was going smoothly. The Chevy Avalanche had raced thru the town, albeit running a silver Toyota Corolla with New Zealand plates saying "Drake" off the road in the process, and was now making great time toward their distination. The truck was now barrelling down the road at 80 MPH+
"Left now!" shouted Epsilon to the steering patch. Ranger spiked the brakes and the Chevy slide sidewise, tires squelling and smoking, in an almost 90 degree turn. The truck stopped pointed straight down another road as a 1990 Chevy Caprice with Missouri plates reading "Kenny" jams on the breaks and slides into a ditch to avoid a t-bone crash with the Avalanche, its driver thankfully unharmed.
"Floor it now!" shouted Epsilon. Doing a mild burnout, the Avalance accelerated quickly down the road. The road side at the corner reads "West Trotter's Lane," they were getting close.
Back with the Canine Crusher, Patriot had indeed briefly stopped it. The group had thankfully come across U and Doc had recovered his toy screwdriver that U modified. Doc darted up a drop down ladder into the cab and retook the passenger's seat after pulling the ladder up. Patriot mashed the gas and the Crusher again took off, hitting a small hill and catching a little air before slamming back to Earth.
"Incredible luck U was right along the route testing that pepper spray yarn ball. And ," said Doc. "And he got my screwdriver working," he added.
Doc held up the screwdriver to the pups in the back, who he had informed earilier of the stop. It now featured three colored buttons on one side.
"The blue button activates the stuff to unlock, U says it will work on 90 percent of the world's locks. The white button handles a sonic weapon and he says the red button is a missle launcher but I don't really believe him!," said Doc proudly of his tool. The pups in the back just stared at each confused as the engine contuined to roar.
"Can you hear what he said!" asked Lucky.
"No" replied Clayton.
"Drive," the theme from the 80s show "Hardcastle and McCormick" plays over a montage of clips as both trucks race toward the DeVilCo1 dish, the Avalanche on the road and the monster F-150 off it. It's quick cuts between the flat out speed of the Chevy and conquering off-road action of the Ford. The song ends with the Chevy slamming thru a chain link fence onto the property of DeVilCo1. The truck narrowly misses crashing into a small, unoccupied security building at the gate.
The DeVilCo1 Satellite Dish is absolutely massive. The solid, shiny white dish towards 30 stories into the air, resting on two ten story tall support towers with a maze of white catwalks running between them. The diameter of its dish was longer than two tractor-trailers. It's no wonder this is the dish Epsilon choose, it's broadcast and receiving power must be almost unlimited.
Still Epsilon's arrival had not gone unnoticed. Two security guards on the property had been finishing an early dinner of McDonald's Big Mac hamburgers, french fries and Coca-Cola inside their security vehicle, a white Toyota RAV4 SUV with blue and yellow security markings and an orange version of a police lightbar. The rent-a-cops sprang into action, leaving the RAV4 parked under the dish as the rushed toard the Avalanche on foot with their tasers drawn (DeVilCo was too cheap a company to issue their guards real guns). The guards ran toward the driver's side of the vehicle, not noticing Epsilon getting out of the passenger's side. Epsilon simply looked at the guards and began to blink...
With the human opposition out of the way Epsilon proceeded ahead with his plans, first having the strong pups haul his supplies up to the highest level catwalk then sending them back down to ground level to guard against any "interference" that may arrive. Techno located a computer in the guard building and had already hacked it and accessed the internet.
"I'm online," said Techno into a security guard issue walkie-talkie. On top Epsilon held the other walkie-talkie, pausing from wiring up the amplifier to relay an order.
"Good, now hack the communications satellites. Set them to target," commanded Epsilon.
Techno hit a bunch of computer keyes in rapid succession.
In space, many of the world's communication satellites began to move. Across the world, cell phone calls dropped, internet connections failed, TV screens were reduced to static. For the first time, the humans of the world began to suspect something was wrong but other than using landlands to call their cell phone and cable providers no one took any real action. No one realized the problem was more than a local issue and none of them realized the danger they were in.
"Set the targets. We'll knock out the humans capable of causing military action first. Target all of the world's capitals," ordered Epsilon. Suddenly the roar of a giant engine began to echo thru the DeVilCo1 property. Epsilon looked up from his work toward a dust cloud streaking across a farmer's field. It's source, a giant blue monster truck aout a mile away but coming in hot and fast. The truck crested a hill and raced down it at 65 MPH.
"Well, well look who decided to crash the party," said Epsilon to himself. "I must give them credit, the bravery of idiots is bravery none the less," he added.
The Canine Crusher arrived at DeVilCo1 with a BANG as Patriot crashed the big Ford thru the chain link fence at full speed. He spiked the brakes but the truck was slow to respond to them as it slammed into and crushed the unoccupied RAV4 security SUV. Patriot shut the engine down.
"Nice parking Patriot," said Doc jokingly as the truck's ladders came down and the pups sprang into action. "Got a fire extinguisher by any chance," asked Cadpig from the truck bed.
"Just this little racing one runt dog," replied Patriot as he pulled one from under the truck's gauges and tossed it to her.
"Thank you," replied Cadpig as hurried down the truck's rear ladder.
Patch, Duke, Raiden and Ranger were quick to respond but the pups were just as quick to fight back. Immediately they split up to fight their friends. Roxy, Nuke, Slayer, Slyvia the Wolf and Puffy immediately tackled Patch as Lucky, Two-Tone Sparky and Clayton did the same to Duke. Silkie, Drake, Oddy and Rolly easily pinned down Raiden. Ranger tried to attack Cadpig as she reached the ground from the truck only for her to spray him with the extinguisher and free him. She quickly did the same to her brothers wrestled to ground.
Techno was now the only one still under mind control. His purpose done, he was simply watching the computer and waiting for the order from Epsilon to move the satellites to zap more of the Earth.
Leaf saw the building and ran toward it as fast as he could.
"Dut dut da da," said Leaf to himself as he hummed the old theme to "Hockey Night in Canada."
The guard building had one window which had been left open to let in a breeze. Suddenly Leaf launched thru it and landed a flying hockey-style check on Techno. The hit knocked him away from the computer and onto the floor.
"(makes hockey buzzer sound) Two minutes in the penalty box for trying to destroy humanity," said Leaf in a smug tone. After opening the door Cadpig rushed in and used the last of the little extinguisher's foam to free the hacker.
Epsilon had become too entangled with assembling the amp to realize what was occuring below. He was almost ready as he plugged two large cables into each side of it. One led into a panel on the dish, the other to device that looked like a modified pair of swimming googles. He was almost ready.
The only way up the satellite to the catwalk Epsilon was on was a staircase in one of the support towers, naturally Epsilon had made sure the door to the staircase was locked behind him with the lock located at a human height below a small window. Doc looked at the locked door with a smile on his face.
"Alright lock, let's see you withstand my new screwdriver. Allons-y!" said Doc as he pointed it at the door and pressed the blue button. To his surprise, the screwdriver did not unlock the door. Instead the tip of it popped open and a spring loaded set of three skeleton keys and two screwdriver heads (flat and phillips) slide out.
"What's this then?," asked Doc confused as several of the other pups walked up. "Okay, this should still work. Somebody give me a boost," he requested.
"You got it Doc," said Clayton.
"We're ready to lend a paw," added Slyvia as she and Clayton give him the boost he needed. He jammed one of the skeleton keys into the lock and turned. It worked, grabbing his toy he leapt onto the door's handle and pulled down. It opened and Doc akwardly fell onto the tower's floor. Suddenly a gust a wind came down the staircase and blew the door shut again before any of the others could get in. Like those in some older hotels, the door automatically locked when it shut. Doc was on his own.
"Hang on guys, I'll stop Epsilon," said Doc as he ran up the stairs.
The others were trapped outside, with all of them trying to figure out how to open it again.
Silkie and Rolly ran back to the Ford truck and up the stairs into the truck's bed, immediately going for the chrome toolbox.
"Maybe he's got some lock-picking or drilling equipment in here," said Silkie. The pair opened the case to find it's only contents to be a sturdy metal chain.
"That'll work," said Rolly.
"Huh?," replied Silkie.
"I have a plan...I've been waiting a long time to say that," said Rolly proudly. "Patriot, get this thing fired up again!" he shouted.
Doc was making a desperate dash up the stairs, each step intercut with footage of innocent people worldwide enjoying their Saturday. As Doc reached the 9th story, he paused then leapt up and knocked loose a fire axe from an "In case of fire" case. He slowly made his way up the final story, so as not to clue in Epsilon on his presence. The border collie was just finishing his amp.
"DONE! Break up the water dishes and Milk Bones, it's doggy time human race!" said Epsilon proudly. Doc pulled out pointed his little toy screwdriver at Epsilon. He pointed the opposite side toward him and pressed the white button. Again all that happened was the end popped open, this time revealing a dog whistle. Well, that would do. Epsilon pulled the goggled cable to face and strapped it on.
"Let's get canine," said Epsilon. He began to close his eyes when suddenly he was paralized by an ear splitting sound. Doc blew into the whistle with all his might, fighting off its painful sound as he then ran in. He quit whistling and sliced the cable connecting the amp to the satellite with the fire axe before Epsilon. One half of the sliced cable slid over the side of the catwalk as Doc placed his toy back into his scarf. Epsilon angrily removed the goggles.
"What have you done you fool! We were seconds away from a canine-run planet. Do you know how many homeless dogs in shelters you just sentenced to death!," said Epsilon.
"Get down Shep, you're guilt trips aren't going to work on me. Humans may not be a perfect species but they deserve a right to exist. You had a good run but your villianous scheme is foiled," said Doc proudly.
"Not by a long shot Doc Boy," Epsilon walked over the case everything was carried up in and pulled out a replacement cable. "If it's worth doing, it's worth building in redundancy," he proclaimed.
"I'll cut that one too," said Doc.
"No you won't Doc, I have a new plan. You're too dangerous for me to leave alive. First I'm going to kill you for opposing me, then I'm going to plug in this new cable, destroy humanity and brainwash every dog new and old to rule this planet," said Epsilon proudly. He put the wire down and slowly began to walk over to Doc.
Doc began to feel a little scared. He dropped the axe onto the catwalk and just stared as Epsilon walked up to him. Doc was not exactly the biggest fan of physical violence, still sometimes it had its place. If this was going to be a one-on-one fight to the death he had better win it.
As soon as Epsilon was in paw's reach, Doc punched him right in the jaw with all his might. It stunned Epsilon but didn't knock him out as he sprang back to his feet and tackled Doc. Doc's head hung over the side of the catwalk, it's safety railings were at human height, only a five inch lip on the sides of its floor kept things from just sliding off.
Doc kicked Epsilon in the groin and got back to his feet. The others below could only watch from the ground as their friend fought for the fate of Earth 10 stories in the air. Fighting with all his might the dalmatian actually seemed to be holding his own, if not winning, against the stronger border collie. Doc gave Epsilon a hard head-butt that forced him down onto the catwalk floor. Doc moved in, hoping for a knock out as no matter how evil Epsilon was he didn't really want to take another's life. He moved in for the finish when unexpectedly Epsilon sprang back to his feet and punched Doc hard in the throat.
The hit caught Doc off guard and he stumbled backward, clipping the lip on the side of the catwalk floor AND TUMBLING BACKWARD OVER THE SIDE!!!
Epsilon had a smile on his face as he walked over to the side to his enemy's demise only to look down and find Doc looking right back up at him. He grabbed the hanging cable he cut earlier. Doc slowly began to climb back up. Suddenly he looked up and saw a horrific sight, Epsilon had picked up his fire axe and was ready to cut the wire.
"You could have had it all Spotty if you'd just worked with me instead of against me. Goodbye Doc," said Epsilon. He swung the axe downward. Everything seemed slow motion as the axe cut thru the cable like a hot knife thru butter. The expression on Doc's face recalled that of Hans Gruber in "Die Hard" as he looked up at Epsilon while beginning his fall towards Earth.
How could this be...he...lost?
"Alright, everybody strapped in? Okay! And now for the most famous words in all of motorsports...Gentledog, Start Your Engine!"
The 640 Cubic Inch Ford engine roars to life. The ground is literally shaking. Then it emerges...
A giant blue 1988 Ford F-150 Monster Truck races out of the garage! The truck is ten feet tall and riding on 66 inch tall tires! On the doors is painted the words "Canine Crusher" in stacked white letters with a paw print painted between the words. The truck plows into the parted out Pontiac 6000 in the driveway and crushes it flat instantly, catching a little air as it does, and races off to catch up to Epsilon.
The truck darts down the driveway of the garage, the chrome of its rollbar located directly behind the cab and the toolbox welded in place under it shine in the Saturday sun. The pups are strapped into benches located on either side of the truck's bed. Inside the cabin, Patriot has indeed had it gutted. There's no dash, no radio, no AC just a few gauges and a good view over the hood at the blower's protruding thru it. Two seats, heavily raised from the normal position so they can see, sit in an interior more like a NASCAR racer than a standard pickup truck's. Patriot made a custom steering wheel better sized for him. On the back of the truck above the normal Ford tailgate markings he has painted a smashed Chevrolet logo with the words "The Heartbeat of America STOPS HERE!" above it.
Patriot has his right paw on the steering wheel and his left on a toggle switch mounted on the top of the truck's driver's door. He yanks the wheel and flips the toggle, all four wheels on the truck turn in unison as he enters a regular road. The Mexican driver of a blue Renault car with a vanity plate reading "Johny" swerves out of the way as the monster races up the road.
"The toggle switch controls the hydraulics for the rear steering, if ya build a monster truck you need rear steering!," said Patriot proudly.
"That's nice, I guess! Why is the engine so loud?!" asked Doc, both pups having the yell to hear each other over the engine's roar.
"No muffler, would hurt horsepower!" replied Patriot.
"Dare I ask what the milage is?!" asked Doc.
"It doesn't matter, it doesn't run on gas. I needed something with more kick, specifically blown-injected alcohol!" replied the red, white and blue pup.
"Alcohol? Where'd you get..." Doc suddenly remembered something from earilier. "The moonshine? This thing runs on moonshine!"
"You got it. Remove the sugar and that stuff is basically Ethanol, although the stuff I made has a bit more than 85 octane. Don't try and drink it!" replied Patriot.
"How fast will this thing go?!" asked Doc. Patriot mashed the gas pedal to the floor.
" 'Bout 55 miles per hour, maybe 60-70 going downhill with a good wind pushing. The tires will take about 80 but we're too heavy because of the steel truck body," replied Patriot. Doc had a concerned look on his face.
"If the truck isn't fast enough to get a highway speeding ticket, how the heck or we going to catch up to Epsilon?!" asked Doc.
"We won't, not on the roads. But we got an advantage he doesn't, extreme off-road capability. I'm going to turn off at the old Troughton place and cut across the farmer's fields. There not even planted yet so they should be no sweat. We can go as the crow flies in this thing. He may beat us there but we won't be far behind!," replied Patriot, confident in his machine's ability.
"The Troughton place? I ran thru there on my way back to the farm. U is there testing gadgets. Can we stop briefly, I've got to pickup my Sonic Screwdriver from him!" said Doc.
"You're what? Is that anything like a oil filter wrench?" asked Patriot.
"I'll explain it to you later," said Doc. "But if he got it working, it could be vital," he added.
"Alright. But make it quicker than Joe Nemechek on pole day!," said Patriot. Doc had no idea what that meant but he would be dang fast.
The truck reached the turnoff and turned off the road into an unplanted dirt field. With a blast of the accelerator by Patriot, the Canine Crusher raced across it, flinging dirt behind it.
For Epsilon, the trip was going smoothly. The Chevy Avalanche had raced thru the town, albeit running a silver Toyota Corolla with New Zealand plates saying "Drake" off the road in the process, and was now making great time toward their distination. The truck was now barrelling down the road at 80 MPH+
"Left now!" shouted Epsilon to the steering patch. Ranger spiked the brakes and the Chevy slide sidewise, tires squelling and smoking, in an almost 90 degree turn. The truck stopped pointed straight down another road as a 1990 Chevy Caprice with Missouri plates reading "Kenny" jams on the breaks and slides into a ditch to avoid a t-bone crash with the Avalanche, its driver thankfully unharmed.
"Floor it now!" shouted Epsilon. Doing a mild burnout, the Avalance accelerated quickly down the road. The road side at the corner reads "West Trotter's Lane," they were getting close.
Back with the Canine Crusher, Patriot had indeed briefly stopped it. The group had thankfully come across U and Doc had recovered his toy screwdriver that U modified. Doc darted up a drop down ladder into the cab and retook the passenger's seat after pulling the ladder up. Patriot mashed the gas and the Crusher again took off, hitting a small hill and catching a little air before slamming back to Earth.
"Incredible luck U was right along the route testing that pepper spray yarn ball. And ," said Doc. "And he got my screwdriver working," he added.
Doc held up the screwdriver to the pups in the back, who he had informed earilier of the stop. It now featured three colored buttons on one side.
"The blue button activates the stuff to unlock, U says it will work on 90 percent of the world's locks. The white button handles a sonic weapon and he says the red button is a missle launcher but I don't really believe him!," said Doc proudly of his tool. The pups in the back just stared at each confused as the engine contuined to roar.
"Can you hear what he said!" asked Lucky.
"No" replied Clayton.
"Drive," the theme from the 80s show "Hardcastle and McCormick" plays over a montage of clips as both trucks race toward the DeVilCo1 dish, the Avalanche on the road and the monster F-150 off it. It's quick cuts between the flat out speed of the Chevy and conquering off-road action of the Ford. The song ends with the Chevy slamming thru a chain link fence onto the property of DeVilCo1. The truck narrowly misses crashing into a small, unoccupied security building at the gate.
The DeVilCo1 Satellite Dish is absolutely massive. The solid, shiny white dish towards 30 stories into the air, resting on two ten story tall support towers with a maze of white catwalks running between them. The diameter of its dish was longer than two tractor-trailers. It's no wonder this is the dish Epsilon choose, it's broadcast and receiving power must be almost unlimited.
Still Epsilon's arrival had not gone unnoticed. Two security guards on the property had been finishing an early dinner of McDonald's Big Mac hamburgers, french fries and Coca-Cola inside their security vehicle, a white Toyota RAV4 SUV with blue and yellow security markings and an orange version of a police lightbar. The rent-a-cops sprang into action, leaving the RAV4 parked under the dish as the rushed toard the Avalanche on foot with their tasers drawn (DeVilCo was too cheap a company to issue their guards real guns). The guards ran toward the driver's side of the vehicle, not noticing Epsilon getting out of the passenger's side. Epsilon simply looked at the guards and began to blink...
With the human opposition out of the way Epsilon proceeded ahead with his plans, first having the strong pups haul his supplies up to the highest level catwalk then sending them back down to ground level to guard against any "interference" that may arrive. Techno located a computer in the guard building and had already hacked it and accessed the internet.
"I'm online," said Techno into a security guard issue walkie-talkie. On top Epsilon held the other walkie-talkie, pausing from wiring up the amplifier to relay an order.
"Good, now hack the communications satellites. Set them to target," commanded Epsilon.
Techno hit a bunch of computer keyes in rapid succession.
In space, many of the world's communication satellites began to move. Across the world, cell phone calls dropped, internet connections failed, TV screens were reduced to static. For the first time, the humans of the world began to suspect something was wrong but other than using landlands to call their cell phone and cable providers no one took any real action. No one realized the problem was more than a local issue and none of them realized the danger they were in.
"Set the targets. We'll knock out the humans capable of causing military action first. Target all of the world's capitals," ordered Epsilon. Suddenly the roar of a giant engine began to echo thru the DeVilCo1 property. Epsilon looked up from his work toward a dust cloud streaking across a farmer's field. It's source, a giant blue monster truck aout a mile away but coming in hot and fast. The truck crested a hill and raced down it at 65 MPH.
"Well, well look who decided to crash the party," said Epsilon to himself. "I must give them credit, the bravery of idiots is bravery none the less," he added.
The Canine Crusher arrived at DeVilCo1 with a BANG as Patriot crashed the big Ford thru the chain link fence at full speed. He spiked the brakes but the truck was slow to respond to them as it slammed into and crushed the unoccupied RAV4 security SUV. Patriot shut the engine down.
"Nice parking Patriot," said Doc jokingly as the truck's ladders came down and the pups sprang into action. "Got a fire extinguisher by any chance," asked Cadpig from the truck bed.
"Just this little racing one runt dog," replied Patriot as he pulled one from under the truck's gauges and tossed it to her.
"Thank you," replied Cadpig as hurried down the truck's rear ladder.
Patch, Duke, Raiden and Ranger were quick to respond but the pups were just as quick to fight back. Immediately they split up to fight their friends. Roxy, Nuke, Slayer, Slyvia the Wolf and Puffy immediately tackled Patch as Lucky, Two-Tone Sparky and Clayton did the same to Duke. Silkie, Drake, Oddy and Rolly easily pinned down Raiden. Ranger tried to attack Cadpig as she reached the ground from the truck only for her to spray him with the extinguisher and free him. She quickly did the same to her brothers wrestled to ground.
Techno was now the only one still under mind control. His purpose done, he was simply watching the computer and waiting for the order from Epsilon to move the satellites to zap more of the Earth.
Leaf saw the building and ran toward it as fast as he could.
"Dut dut da da," said Leaf to himself as he hummed the old theme to "Hockey Night in Canada."
The guard building had one window which had been left open to let in a breeze. Suddenly Leaf launched thru it and landed a flying hockey-style check on Techno. The hit knocked him away from the computer and onto the floor.
"(makes hockey buzzer sound) Two minutes in the penalty box for trying to destroy humanity," said Leaf in a smug tone. After opening the door Cadpig rushed in and used the last of the little extinguisher's foam to free the hacker.
Epsilon had become too entangled with assembling the amp to realize what was occuring below. He was almost ready as he plugged two large cables into each side of it. One led into a panel on the dish, the other to device that looked like a modified pair of swimming googles. He was almost ready.
The only way up the satellite to the catwalk Epsilon was on was a staircase in one of the support towers, naturally Epsilon had made sure the door to the staircase was locked behind him with the lock located at a human height below a small window. Doc looked at the locked door with a smile on his face.
"Alright lock, let's see you withstand my new screwdriver. Allons-y!" said Doc as he pointed it at the door and pressed the blue button. To his surprise, the screwdriver did not unlock the door. Instead the tip of it popped open and a spring loaded set of three skeleton keys and two screwdriver heads (flat and phillips) slide out.
"What's this then?," asked Doc confused as several of the other pups walked up. "Okay, this should still work. Somebody give me a boost," he requested.
"You got it Doc," said Clayton.
"We're ready to lend a paw," added Slyvia as she and Clayton give him the boost he needed. He jammed one of the skeleton keys into the lock and turned. It worked, grabbing his toy he leapt onto the door's handle and pulled down. It opened and Doc akwardly fell onto the tower's floor. Suddenly a gust a wind came down the staircase and blew the door shut again before any of the others could get in. Like those in some older hotels, the door automatically locked when it shut. Doc was on his own.
"Hang on guys, I'll stop Epsilon," said Doc as he ran up the stairs.
The others were trapped outside, with all of them trying to figure out how to open it again.
Silkie and Rolly ran back to the Ford truck and up the stairs into the truck's bed, immediately going for the chrome toolbox.
"Maybe he's got some lock-picking or drilling equipment in here," said Silkie. The pair opened the case to find it's only contents to be a sturdy metal chain.
"That'll work," said Rolly.
"Huh?," replied Silkie.
"I have a plan...I've been waiting a long time to say that," said Rolly proudly. "Patriot, get this thing fired up again!" he shouted.
Doc was making a desperate dash up the stairs, each step intercut with footage of innocent people worldwide enjoying their Saturday. As Doc reached the 9th story, he paused then leapt up and knocked loose a fire axe from an "In case of fire" case. He slowly made his way up the final story, so as not to clue in Epsilon on his presence. The border collie was just finishing his amp.
"DONE! Break up the water dishes and Milk Bones, it's doggy time human race!" said Epsilon proudly. Doc pulled out pointed his little toy screwdriver at Epsilon. He pointed the opposite side toward him and pressed the white button. Again all that happened was the end popped open, this time revealing a dog whistle. Well, that would do. Epsilon pulled the goggled cable to face and strapped it on.
"Let's get canine," said Epsilon. He began to close his eyes when suddenly he was paralized by an ear splitting sound. Doc blew into the whistle with all his might, fighting off its painful sound as he then ran in. He quit whistling and sliced the cable connecting the amp to the satellite with the fire axe before Epsilon. One half of the sliced cable slid over the side of the catwalk as Doc placed his toy back into his scarf. Epsilon angrily removed the goggles.
"What have you done you fool! We were seconds away from a canine-run planet. Do you know how many homeless dogs in shelters you just sentenced to death!," said Epsilon.
"Get down Shep, you're guilt trips aren't going to work on me. Humans may not be a perfect species but they deserve a right to exist. You had a good run but your villianous scheme is foiled," said Doc proudly.
"Not by a long shot Doc Boy," Epsilon walked over the case everything was carried up in and pulled out a replacement cable. "If it's worth doing, it's worth building in redundancy," he proclaimed.
"I'll cut that one too," said Doc.
"No you won't Doc, I have a new plan. You're too dangerous for me to leave alive. First I'm going to kill you for opposing me, then I'm going to plug in this new cable, destroy humanity and brainwash every dog new and old to rule this planet," said Epsilon proudly. He put the wire down and slowly began to walk over to Doc.
Doc began to feel a little scared. He dropped the axe onto the catwalk and just stared as Epsilon walked up to him. Doc was not exactly the biggest fan of physical violence, still sometimes it had its place. If this was going to be a one-on-one fight to the death he had better win it.
As soon as Epsilon was in paw's reach, Doc punched him right in the jaw with all his might. It stunned Epsilon but didn't knock him out as he sprang back to his feet and tackled Doc. Doc's head hung over the side of the catwalk, it's safety railings were at human height, only a five inch lip on the sides of its floor kept things from just sliding off.
Doc kicked Epsilon in the groin and got back to his feet. The others below could only watch from the ground as their friend fought for the fate of Earth 10 stories in the air. Fighting with all his might the dalmatian actually seemed to be holding his own, if not winning, against the stronger border collie. Doc gave Epsilon a hard head-butt that forced him down onto the catwalk floor. Doc moved in, hoping for a knock out as no matter how evil Epsilon was he didn't really want to take another's life. He moved in for the finish when unexpectedly Epsilon sprang back to his feet and punched Doc hard in the throat.
The hit caught Doc off guard and he stumbled backward, clipping the lip on the side of the catwalk floor AND TUMBLING BACKWARD OVER THE SIDE!!!
Epsilon had a smile on his face as he walked over to the side to his enemy's demise only to look down and find Doc looking right back up at him. He grabbed the hanging cable he cut earlier. Doc slowly began to climb back up. Suddenly he looked up and saw a horrific sight, Epsilon had picked up his fire axe and was ready to cut the wire.
"You could have had it all Spotty if you'd just worked with me instead of against me. Goodbye Doc," said Epsilon. He swung the axe downward. Everything seemed slow motion as the axe cut thru the cable like a hot knife thru butter. The expression on Doc's face recalled that of Hans Gruber in "Die Hard" as he looked up at Epsilon while beginning his fall towards Earth.
How could this be...he...lost?