Ferret Within: A Kim Possible Fan Fiction

[Beast Boy Modified]

I
Beneath the lumps of decaying bricks that made up a wall of a behemothic household, under the scarcely lighted study, behind the guise of the largely populated pockets of a antique shelf, lies a funnel with two dusted cylinders leading downwards into a large shadowy space of what seemed like nothing. However, if one were to be patient enough and remain in the darkness before minutes passes by his life, the dimly lighted bulbs from the place of study above would shine through the entering of the linear pipe system he just slided within to enter this mass of darkness, and thus, the little but sufficient light would reveal what the pitch black area really is for decades and centuries; an uncleaned basement filled with cruddy computer panels, a large monitor seemingly unused for ages, a stack of stairs rotating upwards to a platform above, and in an unfilled corner among all the gadgets and gizmo imitating an underground secret lair, one could see, through the illumination of the pale light from the opening a yard away behind him, three sets of copper-brown cloth, non-spandex outfits with a hood resembling the head of a ferret on the top of each of them, hanging on a silver metal clothes stand each. The left one being the largest size, a slender medium sized replicate was hung to that one, both having the signet of a yellow, ferret head, with a dirt-brown mask covering the eyes, crafted on the front of each suit. Next to the smaller costume much suited for females, one could see a miniature get-up similar to the other bulkier copies, apart from the absence of pants and the addition of a cape.

These were instruments used in histories past, used by one of the greatest crime fighter of all... fictitious crusaders. His glory life of policing the city was over. His everyday activities includes buying eggs and bacon from the Middleton Mall every dawn, jogging down trails of sidewalk lining throughout the streets of the city, and sitting in a linen-made armchair, reminiscing the good old days of filming the classic action-packed series which he once starred in. The story began with the series being canceled decades ago with the absence of acknowledgment from the main star of the cast, Timothy North. Yes, the series was named, "The Fearless Ferret."

A few years ago, however, the has-been had been told by a young, female teenage heroine, Kim Possible, that the show he imagined to be running had been taken off-air and not a single soul had informed him before. After receiving what was once a shocking piece of information, Mr North decided to retire from his acting career, living the good life of an aging old man... that is, until the first day of the twelfth month of the two thousand and seventh year, when Christmas Day is arriving in a little town known to the folks living in it as Middleton.

Outside the comfort of the warm, cozy mansion, mass amount of droplets of rain washes upon the roofs of houses and the like, yet a bipedal, red-eyed crocodile stands upon a tiled platform on the side of the Middleton clock tower, a significant land mark of the city. Within the jaws of the seemingly cold-blooded animal, under the little amount of moonlight, another set of jaws can be seen, a pair of human ones.

"Yes, the Massacre Alligator has broken out of that incompetent cage the furry rodent and his midget partner has put me in," said the being who is no neither crocodile nor alligator but a criminalistic man with past records of break-ins of power plants, which were stopped by the acts of the Fearless Ferret and his beastly partner, Wonder Weasel. "Now, I shall drain the energy of this city once more! And nothing could stop me now! Not especially after my last... accident."

As the villainous man in the water-proofed outfit cackled upon his wondrous plan, he reminiscented about his last encounter with the Fearless Ferret. That was years ago, just few days before the series was canceled. Apparently, another victim of the untold cancellation.

In the depths of the concrete jungle, a power plant with workers in yellow radioactive outfits were still functioning despite having dawn arriving a couple of hours. Two uniformed security guards patrols the outskirts of the building, pacing back and forth behind a steel fence. Nevertheless, they would never expect a man behind the scaly leather of an alligator attempting to infiltrate the plant. The Massacre Alligator, like all super villains who does not use the organ beneath their skulls, jumps in front of one of the lazing guards who did not expect much action in another average morning. The mustached guard stop in his loafing steps, surprise by the sight of the growling menace. His shivering hand move towards the radio attached to his waist, but before he could even come close to grabbing it or even pressing the button which allows his transmission to pass through to other radios channeled to this one, the villain with the lame title hurriedly grabs one of the glass flasks attached to the utility belt tied around his suit and throws it on the stony ground, just before the confused law enforcer. The leafy liquid contained inside was spilled over the shards of glass. And in just tiny parts of a second, a green smoke immediately rises out of the solution, confusing the man in blues even more than he was. A while later, he expects himself to turn into some horrendous creature like the Massacre Alligator, but he finds his skin remaining pink as it was, his face intact and his two legs being unbroken or changed. However, the owner of the once intact flask disappeared. The man knocks his black cap downwards in realization of his stupidity; he was simply distracted. After a few more moments of self-blaming, the guard immediately grabbed out his radio, pressing the button and send out the warning.

"All units, all units, a man in an alligator outfit has possibly entered the power plant. Be on the look out for, I repeat, a man in an alligator suit."

[Beast Boy Modified]

II
Among the little amount of people burning their midnight oil, Timothy North, the once Fearless Ferret, was one of these wakeful people. As he sits by his armchair, with his left index finger and thumb grabbing onto the handle of an antique china cup containing hot chocolate and between the other thumb and index, the saucer the cup was placed on has its side firmly attached within the two fingers. As he enjoys the warmth of the fireplace and the lovely classical music playing from an old radio sitting atop a side table that seems to be bought decades ago, the instrumental rhythem is interrupted by a bulletin abruptly appearing, surprising the conducting Timothy.

"This just in, a man in an alligator suit was seen outside a power plant by one of the security officers and is now assumed to be in the building," a broadcaster announces over the radio just an hour before sunrise, sending this piece of information to the night owls who have yet to put on their pajamas and nightdresses in the midst of the night.

After his last fictitious encounter with the Massacre Alligator, North knew about the capabilities of his once, arch nemesis. He knew about the genius of the scaled villain... in an animal suit, and the ability to transverse nuclear waste to energy he could consume to send a chill of adrenaline through the human body inside the leathery piece of skin. Despite being an old bumbling fool in the past, he is conscious enough to know that he does not have the strength nor power to stop one of his greatest enemies of all; he will have to call in reinforcements, and he knows just the right man for the job.

Setting the fragile saucer on a coffee table in front of his diagonally aligned chair, North puts out the flame in the fireplace using the remains of his beverage, before placing the china atop the saucer. Timothy grabs his fur coat off a yew hanger, put it on his body without putting his arms through the sleeves, he rushes into his study. Upon entering a few seconds later, he approaches a statue depicting a masked head of a ferret sitting on a display table. Tim lifts up the head to reveal a red button with a yellow halo-like shape surrounding the pusher. He removes his palm from the hollow cover in the guise of a head and presses down against the dial, causing the occupied bookshelf behind him to shift itself towards the right, revealing the two metal bars aligning down the funnel that leads to the gloomy underground lair the story began with. He slides down one of the dusted bars, still having the physique to perform a simple stunt as that. When he reaches the ground below, he quickly walk towards the computer panel and punches in a few buttons, despite the absence of even the tiniest amount of glow.

In another part of Middleton, sleeping among the sleepless denizens is a young boy clutching onto his blanket like a miner hugging his gold bars while saliva washes down his lips like a slow stream of river. Within the peaceful household, a beam of glittery moonlight shines through the dense amount of crashing waters and through a window above the bedroom his bed was placed in, revealing a pink rodent that has resided on the middle portion of the cloth that the boy so preciously holds onto, until a beeping noise wakes the furless critter up, causing its heavy lids to be forced open, as its tiny claws rubs across them. With a yawn that reveals its two large front teeth dwarfing its mouth, the rodent known to the boy, his female couple and many other hair homo sapiens as Rufus, catches up with its surroundings while its owner, known to geniuses, super heroines and geeks of the like as Ron Stoppable, continues to snore loudly with no knowledge of his buzzing gizmo beneath the cabinet to the right of his head. The naked mole rat scrambled across the cottoned blanket and leaps onto the wooden platform. It places its stubby yet useful arms on the upper drawer and tries to force it opened in order to reach the mechanism that is making all the noise.

The commotion finally awakes the slumbering goof. "Huh, wha, what?!" he exclaims, thrashing his arms in the air due to his assumption that he is being attack by alien kung fu monkeys. Obviously, the boy is still trying to get over his phobia of that specific family of primates. Literally a second later, he turns his head and his baggy eyes towards Rufus, who was pointing its chalky claw towards the drawer urgently, as the two consecutive nails that forms its claw moves in a linear direction of back and forth towards the purple cabinet. "Rufus? You know I hate charades. Though I can't figure why I like crosswords then."

Rufus smacks his hairless face with its other claw in distress. It tries to send its message to his owner again by stomping atop the cabinet and pointing towards the drawer.

"Okay, wait, stomping... freaking out... it's grandma Anna!"

Rufus gives up. It tries to force open the drawer by itself with both sets of its claws; it recognizes the repeating tune coming from the drawer as it comes out of the gadget of Ron's girlfriend repeatedly and oftenly.

"Huh?" Ron inquires in the act of finally realizing that a noise not too noticeable by the slow is voluming beneath the wooden shells of his cabinet. He reached for the handle of the drawer and tugged on it, revealing a vibrating Kimmunicator, a blue communicating device made by a ten year old super genius, among the useless garbage Ron keeps in his drawer.

"Yo, whazzap Wade?" he asks, assuming the caller to be the inventor of the device, Wade Load, among other hundreds of gadgets and gizmo he had invented.

However, breathing in some fresh air through his yawn, Ron regains enough consciousness to realize that a wrinkled old man with much hair for a man his age is on the screen of the mechanism, instead of the black, young boy with the fuzzy hair. The elderly seems to be displaying an expression of urgency.

"What in the world?! Mr North?! How did you reach my communicator?!" he exclaims, widening his once oppressive lids.

"There is little time for explanation, Ferret," explained the man in the brown furred jacket. "Get to my lair now and I'll explain the rest later!"

After Timothy's brief and uninformative message, the screen blackens. Though North's intentions are not clear, Ron thinks that he is needed once again as his alter ego, the Fearless Ferret. He pulls out a yellow tee from the closet facing the end of his bed and puts on a pair of violet shorts and white slippers. He remember to bring his umbrella filled with pictures of duckies along, as needles of rain and flashes of lighting behind a window above his bed tells him that a thunderstorm is occurring outside. He stuffs Rufus inside one of the pockets of his pants, then sneaks out of his bedroom, tip-toe down the stack of stairs without having to past his parents place of sleep due to it being located between his room and the stairs.

He continues his silent movement through the living room and moves on to kitchen, where his back-door is located. With hopes of preventing his parents from being waken, he turns the knob of the door and heads into the pouring weather. Ron runs towards his yard, with no worries of his parents hearing his splashing footsteps in the crashing storm. He hops on the moped he parks by his red mailbox, starts the engine and drives his way to Timothy's mansion, where he once had to perform social services that involves bring "sunshine" to the life of the past superhero, despite Ron not knowing he was one back then.

Meanwhile, the alarm set off by the bumbling guard from before spreads through the households surrounding the power plant, awaking a few citizens up who alerts the Police about "the loud noise coming from the nuclear waste-dump."

Inside the "dump," Massacre Alligator is enjoying himself as he fills his mouth, through the mouth of the animal suit, with tankards of green, slimy radio-active waste which he feeds on to gain that sensation that runs through his body like the effects of ecstasy on a human being, other than the deadly effects of it.

Ron's scooter slowly rides its way towards North's mansion. He could not possibly borrow Kim's ride in the peak of the morning. After transversing the empty road for fifteen minutes or so, though he could have arrived earlier by running, he parks his ride by the road before approaching the unchanged mansion; unchanged since his last arrival. Once again, he make his way to shelter from the rain as fast as he could. He got under the porch of the mansion and knocks on the wooden filthied door, and turns his back against it to retract his colorful umbrella.

Behind the unsuspecting teenage male, the creaky, heavy door swings wide open. A pitch of darkness covers the contents behind the opening, till a flash of lighting reveals the silhouette of a humanoid. The sudden change of temperature send chills down the back of Stoppable. He lays his unbrella down on the wooden panels of the flooring and gradually rotates his body towards the empty vortex. As he try to work out the faint image aligning the opening that was once covered by a door, another flash of lighting shows North staring at Ron in the expressive of grimness and stringency. Ron lets out a yell, sending a surprised North tumbling backwards into his room, nearly crashing his ancient skeleton structure into millions of pieces, if Ron were not to have grab his arm in time.

When he gets back to his feet, he questions, "Why did you yell like that?"

Ron gives an embarrassed smile, his cheeks as red as the autumn leaves. "He he, sorry, Mr North, I thought you were some spectral phantom or something."

"Never mind," replies the confused old fogey. He turns around and leads the young sidekick into his household. "Come in quickly, time is of our essence."

"Wow, have you been watching the classics, Mr North?"

[Beast Boy Modified]

III
Upon entering, Ron covers his nose with his left hand before a sneeze concaves beneath the palm.

"Sorry, sir, I-I-I'm allergic to dust."
"Yes, I haven't been doing a lot of cleaning lately."
"Maybe I should ask Kim to help you out with that. She loves to clean."
"The Ferret Girl...? I-I-I mean that swinging from grab-holds and villain kicking teenage female you always hang out with? Hmm... maybe I could use some extra help..."
"Oh, my apologies, Mr North, but Kim, ho, you won't get her to become Ferret Girl. Nooooooo, not in a bazillion years. She's got her own title and a motto, too, already, period. But, I'm willing to reprise my role as..."
"How did you know about the reason I asks you here?"
"Well, it's not as if you would ask me here for a tea-party or something."
"True."

As the two characters converse with each other, North represses the button hidden underneath the stone head, shifting the bookcase and once again, revealing the funnel that leads to the lair that requires an invention known as the light bulb.

"Why don't we just use the stairs?"
"You will have to practice using the bars if you are to be the next Ferret."
"Oh, c'mon, what could be more difficult than sliding down some thin, metally cylinder?"
"You do know "metally" is not a word, right?"
"I oftenly invent my own vocabularies."
"Hmm..."

Timothy then slides down the "metally cylinder" before Ron tries to do it... with great failure. As he slides down, he lifts up his legs and have him butt cheeks facing downwards, causing them to crash upon the flooring below.

"OUCH! My butt! My butt slammed against the ground! OH MY GOD! I'm goner get butt-cramp for the rest of my life!"
"Calm yourself down, Ferret Boy, Massacre Alligator will not wait for your butt to recover."

As the two proceed towards the computer panel, Ron continues to rubs his butt. North then punches in a few buttons on the panel as before. The blackened screen above the panel suddenly shines an image of the nuclear waste-consuming man in his croc-suit.

"Who's the fish?"
"He was my arch foe in the show, the Massacre Alligator, capable of creating poisons and acids in bottles of flasks attached to his utility belt."
"A croc with a utility belt? Doesn't seem like he would have much use for it."
"But yes, that's the trick. Alligators were thought to be slow, bumbling creatures but little amount of people know just how fast the ancient animal could be, and how cunning they are."
"Eh, I could guise myself as a log, too."
"But could you make poisons that could destroy half the world?"
"Point taken. So I assume he suffers the same condition you had... erm, no offense."
"None taken but yes, he did. His name's Yutani Crave. He was an ex-JFK saboteur till that nuclear accident he had."
"Sounds radio-active. Woo, did he get like, wall-crawling powers and like, transform into some green, rampaging giant with poor vocabularies?!"
"You read too much comics, kid."
"Marshal Comics rules!"

As Ron continues to brag about his love of comics, and nachos, North walks over to the three sets of suits, leaving the photo of his reptilian nemesis behind.

"Here it is..."
"The Fearless Ferret outfit! And the Ferret Girl costume, too! Oh man, Kim's losing big time. She doesn't know what's she missing! And there it is! The Wonder Weasel cape, mask and chest-plate!"
"Actually, it is just a top without the pants."

"Ugh'o boy!" Rufus exclaims as it climbs out of the pocket, overhearing the whole conversation.

Ron rubs his palms together, ready to try don the outfit once again after years of absence.

"Ho man, I'm 'cite! Can I try it on now, please?!"
"Be my guest. In fact, we need to make haste... I mean you need to make haste. Who knows what terror Yutani has spreaded through the town?"

In the other part of the town, a hyperactive Crave gallops across the plant, continuing to stuff his face with green slimy liquid.

Back in the old, dusted mansion, Ron puts the hood over his head, covering his face with one of a masked ferret. "Boo ya."

"To the Ferret Mobile!" North exclaims, pointing towards the stairs while he stands in his place.

"Don't worry Mr North, the New Ferret will search out the crimes of that feisty gator!"

"Sigh... the new Ferret..." Timothy lowers his head in sorrow as Ron runs up the stack of stairs, before stopping to give a final advice.

"It's okay, Mr North. No matter what, you'll always be my Fearless Ferret."

With an exchange of smiles, Ron exits the underground chamber through a door at the end of the stairs.