You completely owe us dinner

Listen up.

It was the middle of the desert near Battery City, California. And this young Killjoy, by the name of Fun Ghoul, was ready for anything the world had to throw at him. A determined soul, so long as he had a few friends, and a reason to go on. Today was part 6 of his reason. Mission 6: Steal a BL/ind H-airpoint plane, and make his way over to Japan. Now, I know what most of you are thinking; A kids gotta be crazy to try and pull this one off. Well, maybe Ghoul was a little crazy. But you gotta be a little crazy to survive in the wild wild west. And let me tell you; Ghoul was a crazy little Freedom Fighter. So long as he had his reason waitin' for him all those seas apart. Ghoul was a freedom Fighter, let me tell you that.

   The sun pressed down on a mid-day desert floor for the Freedom Fighters, a new day and a new mission. He kept his hands on the handle and his eye on the prize, proudly and loudly cutting through the desert sand with no mercy on good ol' Lab Rat. He kept his focus as his lifted his hand to his face, and spoke loudly over the roaring of the engine,
  
"This is Fun Ghoul, checking in at zone 1, 8.887 miles till passage."

A slight pause, and a fuzzing sound of the walkie talkie,
  
"In, Ghoul. This is Kobra at zone 7! Better high tail it outta there fast! Got some Dracs on our tails!"

"We aren't letting the dracs get to us now, are we?"

Ghoul said this rather smugly.

"Not yet, Ghoul. Whats your co ordinance?"

Once again, he glanced down at the radar,

"5.3473 miles till passage! I'll be there soon, tell the guys to stay in position!"

"Over!"

There was a sound of urgency in his voice, as if it were a command more then anything.    

"Keep hideing. I'm almost there."

   See, this was the honest-to-god first mission all the guys had agreed on letting Ghoul go on by himself. Ghoul wasn't the most careful soul, and often did things like pushing over ray gun powder, or spoiling food, (Which happened to be the only food they had at the time,) and there was even one incident with Jet Star's guitar being left in a van that was stolen, and- well, you get the picture. Ghoul wasn't very careful, and thus, was very missions weren't his strong point.
   
He pressed on to the gas harder then he had originally planned, causeing the motor cycle to speed so fast that if one mistake was made, then Ghoul would be dusted on the site.(If not, shaked up a good bit.) And mission 6? Utterly Exterminated.

He mumbled,

"C'mon Lab, keep going…"

Barely realizing, but he was talking to himself. He was so close. There was no way he was losing now, no way. Not to some stupid Dracs, he wasn't.

"C'mon…"

Stretching out the last word, as if it was gonna make him go faster.

1.1222 miles to go.

His nerves were so much on edge that he felt like he was going to explode, head first. The music was playing in the back of his head and the epic guitar solo with it. He was blazing through the zones with no apology, and no one to make up for it. As if it even mattered.

And no one, especially not the dracs, were gonna stop him now.

Once again, he checked the co ordinance system, and held his breath as he watched the green number count down his last mile. 0.783 miles.

He narrowed his eyes. The distance was passing like eons, as was the time.

0.604 Miles.

0.380 Miles.

0.198 Miles.

He had it in his grasp.

"Kobra, do you read? I've got the key, and the exit is in-"

  That was when it happened.

He wasn't really sure of what had happened exactly, but all he knew is that he was down, and Lab was down, and he was in a shit. A sense of panic arised in Ghouls eyes, and it appeared to him that Kobra was proved right: Dracs.
   Ghoul landed on the ground and rolled forward with a thud, and Lab with this horrible sound that a motor cycle would make when it crashed. It wasn't like ghoul much time to process anything either; being on the ground wounded, and such. Unfortunately, it didn't take him long to get back to his bearings and look up to see what had hit him. He was grasping his head as he looked up, however, he then saw that he didn't have anytime to be in pain. He was out numbered by three Dracs; just standing there, as if they weren't even looking for a challenge. Just standing there looking at him, with their ugly masked faces.
  
Boy was he in a shit.

He was simply frozen in his anger at coming so close, so close to finishing his first mission. Only .198 miles left, and the world decided that he just couldn't have that.

Just great.

    However, there was nothing he could be mad about that would help him now. And as one of the ugly masked creatures pulled a fully loaded ray gun out of their pocket, he noticed that as well.
    
He sat there looking in dismay at what was happening. More panic made his back stiff up to the bone, and he couldn't run away if he tried. (Or could try.) The draculoids were about 20 feet tall it seemed, and frank was that same little scared boy curled up on the floor with no where to run. The same as he'd always been. That was the way he's lived, and it'd be the way he died. He sat there waiting for the blow to come, not wanting to see the gun light up before-
    
Then there was that familiar sound that Ghoul had gotten so used to. The ray gun had fired. Ghoul knew he was dead, he just knew it, he was dead on his first mission and he was going to show up and god's unaproveing feet, begging for mercy and….. Wait….
  If he was dead…. Then why did he hear that gun fire? And why didn't he feel anything? He had always imagined death being quite painful… Now he was certainly having a panic attack, but…..

    He looked up to see smoke rising from the one Draculoid with the ray gun. It was on the ground…. With smoke coming out of it…. And he wasn't dead... There was no time to put things together, as another warning fire sped past his ear, dusting another one of the Dracs down. What ever it was… was trying to save him?

   Ghoul turned around reluctantly, still afraid that any minuet now another drac was going to come up in front of him and… **Gulps** finish him off. But, as he turned around, who was his knight in shining armor, holding his ray gun with no mercy?

"Thought we weren't letting the Dracs get to us, Ghoul?"

Jet Star!

He stood in the sun proudly and strong with no apology. His ray gun smoking in the excitement of a freshly dusted Draculoid. His stood in a super hero stance, 'Super Ray, here to save the day!'

   He fired his ray gun again, only so much that it flew right past the only standing enemy, and went running for his life. Ghoul always knew those Dracs were suckers for these type of things!

   He put the Ray Gun down,

"Need some help?"

He was pretty thoughtless at this point. Being in the rush of your life and almost being killed all in the same hour was a pretty strange feeling. He wasn't completely sure how to act after this.
    So he got up awkwardly, ignored the pain in his leg, and knew of nothing better to do but give a painful smile. He knew that meant, 'Yes, PLEASE!' But it was a nicer way over all.

"Nnno, I think I'm…. No, I think I'm good."

He was obviously hurt, limping as he stood. Jet caught onto this too. The sun was so bright, the both of them were squinting.
He scoffed,

"Looks like Lab got pretty totaled."

This made ghoul very nervous, only making his words harder to spit out.

"Yeah, um-"

"We can fix it up back at the camp site."

A sweet sigh of almost-relief.
Jet looked at frank again, and kept his eyes on him as he pulled a walkie talkie out of his belt,

"Hey guys, we're gonna need the car over here."

Fuzz.

"Copy! On our way."

Jet just looked at ghoul, with a smile of, 'Boy did you screw up this time.'

He said with his pride flowing out of his body,
"You know you owe us dinner now, right?"

Wouldn't be the first time, freedom fighters.