Ignoring Ranma's panicking motions inside the tank, Jim only stared at her hard. "What, again? I thought you used your last nuke last year."
Dr. Nesbit waved his accusation off with a snort. "Pfft, do you know how easy it is to get plutonium? All you need to do is just ask the ants; they have a very open lending policy."
"Doesn't matter now," Jim reminded. "The ants won't have anybody to loan the stuff to if the city's destroyed."
"All right, so get the JLM to deal with it."
"They're on vacation." The mad doctor blinked at that.
"... Okay, so the Offenders?"
"Psychological trauma," he replied. "And don't even ask about the other teams; most of them were plowed when Doom's Diana came through, you know exactly what happened to Mongoose Guy, and Weasel Boy and Mighty Yak are missing."
Nesbit frowned. "Hm. That's not good. And I really don't feel like using my orbital laser to blast it."
Jim scuttled up to her. "Why not just deactivate it? You do have a control unit on it, right?"
"Pft, who ever does that?" she responded mockingly. "That's what we're supposed to have super heroes for." Nesbit walked up to a console that showed the missle blasting straight for the heart of the city. "So how are we going to stop it..." she mused, not particularly worried.
The frantic movements of the "guest" caught the two scientists attention. Ranma stopped when he saw the two exchange glances. "Glugh?"
"Hey, you're the one who decided to hop through that dimensional rip, so you have to pay rent," the very very mad doctor responded over the headset that he was currently wearing, along with the tight black outfit that made the temporally misplaced martial artist think of a wetsuit.
"What the hell? I was sleepin', dammit!" he shouted back, trying to ignore the fact that he was racing to a nuclear rocket, while riding a rocket of his own on the way over there.
"Just shut it, hairless monkey. You're almost there, anyways," she replied. "Get ready to detach the rocket," she commanded.
Seconds later, Ranma was plummeting. "What if I miss?" the boy shouted on the headset.
"Then there's something wrong with you." Any remark he would have made was cut short as he did a combination landing on the damn rocket/getting hit by the damn rocket manuever.
Years later, he was still wondering how he managed to hold on.
Seconds later, Ranma found himself hanging for dear life of the rocket. "Kid! Hey, if you feel like surviving, you might want to listen to what I'm saying."
"You go to hellllll..." Ranma whispered under his breath, trying to get used to the sensation of flying to his doom.
"I heard that," was her icy remark. "Now, find the panel that will let you disarm the nuke."
Ranma growled. "Hey, how the heck do I tell where... it..." he trailed off, staring at a square that had the words "Hey, moron, here's where you disarm the bomb!"
"That wasn't so tough, moron. Now, open it, and rip out the red wire," Nesbit's amused voice called out. Grumbling, the boy struggled against g-forces and all that, and popped open the latch. Peeking inside, he could only moan.
"They're all blue!"
Silence answered him, at least for a few seconds. "Oh, right. I forgot I did that; it was in case a hero or something needed to disarm the nuke as it was plummeting, or something like that." Her voice did not sound at all apologetic, therefore Ranma was not comforted. "Pull the blue wire that's two deep, and three from the top."
Rolling his eyes, Ranma reached up to find the correct wire...
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(Posted Wed, 13 Oct 2004 13:37)
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らんま1/2 © Rumiko Takahashi
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